Page 17 of Rescuing Rosie
‘Hi, Madison,’ he said as the star caught her breath, her chest heaving magnificently. ‘It’s amazing to meet you. I voted for you onTempt Me– you were robbed.’ His accent was cheeky-Manchester, and his deep brown eyes held a glint of mischief. ‘When you’ve got your breath back, we’ll sort you some boots.’
‘Dale?’ Madison looked up at him through her eyelashes. ‘Seriously?’
‘My co-owner’s surname is Hill, so ’ow could we not?’
Veronica snorted. So shedidhave a sense of humour.
His eyes moved to Rosie. ‘And who are you?’
‘Rosie,’ she said, attempting not to sound breathless in the face of his overwhelming hotness. ‘I’m covering Madison’s Lake District visit for a magazine. And this is Veronica.’
‘Vybe’s publicist,’ said Veronica, looking round at the racks of outdoor gear in sensible shades of dull. ‘We’re shaking up this market; introducing colour and style while maintaining ourreputation for top-quality activewear. I should talk to you about that. Anyway, Rosie needs boots too.’
‘Oh, I should be fine,’ said Rosie, smiling at Dale. ‘The hotel manager said Doc Martens are okay for low-level walks.’ Her black ones should have dried out by tomorrow.
‘Depends. How low is low?’ asked Dale.
‘Low Ridge Fell?’ said Rosie, trying to remember. ‘Lock Ridge …’
‘Loughrigg?’ said Dale, just as a voice behind Rosie said, ‘Those boots arenotokay,’ and she turned to see the man from the stream, leaning against the shop counter, his dog at his side.
Oh god.
‘Meet Mr Hill,’ said Dale with a grin. ‘He takes safetyveryseriously.’
Rose felt herself colouring. ‘I didn’t mean theseactualboots,’ she said, looking down at her floral Docs. ‘My other ones are black.’ And then she realised how stupid that sounded.Fuck’s sake, Rosie. When faced with judgemental men, please, please engage brain before speaking.
Dale looked at her feet too. ‘Those are wicked boots, so you wouldn’t want to spoil them. Let’s get you both sorted with something a bit sturdier. Come take a seat, ladies.’ He looked over at his colleague. ‘Ant – can you assist Rosie?’
Roooh-seh. She loved how these men of the north pronounced her name.
Mr Hill’s gaze rose from Rosie’s Docs to her face; his own remained expressionless. ‘Sure,’ he said, coming over.
‘Wait – what?’ said Rosie, registering Dale’s words. ‘Ant Hill?’
Dale chuckled. ‘It’s been his nickname since school. It fits, too. He works dead ’ard, does our Ant.’
Madison sat down and took off her trainers. She lifted a shapely leg and wiggled her toes at Dale. ‘Size five; Veronica’s in charge of style.’
‘Like I said on the phone,’ said Veronica, ‘she needs to look the part. A serious boot. It’ll be a nice touch with the silvery leggings.’
Dale went over to a stack of boxes sitting ready on the counter.
Rosie sat down next to Madison and began unlacing her Docs. ‘I’m a five too,’ she said to Mr Hill. Ant.
‘We’ll measure you to make sure,’ he said, pulling up a stool.
He doesn’t even trust me to know my own shoe size.
Ant’s accent was softer than Dale’s, his voice quieter. He was tall and long-limbed, and while he didn’t have Dale’s movie-star looks, in a moss-coloured fleece and jeans, he was at least less intimidating than when he’d loomed out of the woods in hooded, head-to-toe black.
He slid out a measuring device from a cavity in the stool.
‘Oh my gosh!’ said Rosie. ‘I haven’t seen one of these since Mum took me to Clarks for T-bars!’ She slipped off her left boot.
Oh dear.Rosie had forgotten she was wearing her Moomin socks. They were sky blue, and featured the children’s book characters floating around on pink clouds. She glanced up at Ant’s face, but his expression hadn’t changed.
As she removed her other boot, he said, ‘You’ll need proper walking socks too.’
