Page 77 of The Secret House of Honey and Hope

“Sorry,” I say, unwinding my arm from around his neck. “I didn’t mean to strangle you.”

He just holds me close and rubs his stubbly cheek against mine, making me tingle.

“Is there such a thing as stored snogging? When you’ve wanted to kiss someone for a so long it all comes out like this?” I whisper.

“You really like this analogy,” he says against my cheek.

“Or stored romance when you wait two months before you ask someone for her phone number?”

He gives me a wicked grin. But he doesn’t actually say anything, and…wait a minute!

That joke about no girlfriend on any rock with human life. He hasn’t actually said he hopes to have a girlfriend here.

And he most definitely doesn’t seem in a hurry to ask for my phone number now. I wait. And there’s a tiny moment of hesitation before he looks down.

There’s a loose rock, and little blue flowers growing around it. He bends down and picks one, then straightening, he brushes the hair away from my cheek and tucks the flower behind my ear. “You know, we’re going to owe Gabriel and Pierre a bottle of something. They saw this coming.”

“Saw what coming?” I ask, trying for a casual, slightly amused tone.

His hand goes up to the bridge of his nose, then realises he doesn’t have his glasses and he turns to look around. “I have no possible hope of finding my glasses up there. He glances at the slope of brambles above.

I follow his gaze. “How did you get here?”

He looks back at me. “I heard you screaming and followed the direction of the sound. How didyouget here?”

I scoff. “You think I know? I fell down an underground stream.” I point to the opening in the earth where the water comes out.

He stares up at this, then back at the pond.

I can almost read his mind. “You think that this is the hidden water? What your house is named after?”

“Exactly. TheL’eau Cachéeof the inscription?” He scans the clearing thoughtfully. “If you follow the stings and pricks you find the hidden water. Which means…” He looks around again. “Oh, of all the times to lose my glasses.”

“How much can you see without them.”

“I can see everything, it’s just a bit fuzzy and I miss small details. So, if there are any more signs or inscriptions, I’ll have to rely on you to find them.” Then he takes my hand. “Come on, let’s see if we can find this secret way off the island.

He has to tug my hand because I don’t move immediately. Part of me is tempted to resist. To make him stop and answer all my almost-questions from before. But he surprises me. He stops and comes back to face me.

“Elodie,” he says, voice softening. “Lovely Elodie.” He leans closer to press a feather light kiss on my temple. “I would love to ask you for your phone number. And…”

My heart thumps painfully in my chest. “But you’re not going to?”

“I want to.” He brushes a finger down my face. “You have no idea how much, but I’m not sure I’m worth the upheaval to your life. You see.” Again, he reaches up to touch his glasses and his fingers land on his straight nose. “You see I’m leaving as soon as I finish this project. The cottages will be up soon, then the gardens. Six weeks at most. I don’t want to cause you so much trouble for a short six weeks’ holiday fling.”

“What trouble, what upheaval are you talking about?”

“Tro—“ then he stops himself. “With your grandfather.”

I am completely baffled. “Grandad?"

“If he doesn’t like this.” He waves a finger between the two of us. “If he doesn’t like me dating you.”

An incredulous laugh bursts out of me, half relief, half incredulity. “If he doesn’t like you, he doesn’t have to date you.”

He chuckles quickly but his eyes are still troubled. “Tell him about us and see what he thinks.”

“Hal?” I move closer so our faces are inches apart. “It doesn’t matter what he, or anyone, thinks. All that gossip. I’ve been wanting to tell you that it’s all nonsense to me. I don’t care if your grandfather danced in the streets wearing nothing but a Hitler moustache.”

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