Page 51 of The Great British Bachelor Chase

As if she wasn’t still branded there from last time around.

Yeah, after it all ended—after I royally fucked things up—I did plenty to try and forget her, but that’s the thing about Jolene, she’s one of a kind. I’ve been with other women, sure, even tried to fancy myself in love a couple of times, but even then, memories of those nights with Jolene would creep back into my mind—at the most inconvenient moments, too.

Lying in bed with another woman, wondering if it could ever be the way it was with her. As passionate, as tender.

Asfree.

I chalked it up to youth, in the end. Isn’t everything about love sweeter the first time around? When it’s new, and unexplored, and you’re going out of your damn mind every night to lose yourself in their arms. Of course it couldn’t be that way forever. You get older, wiser, more jaded. The rush is dulled, the sweetness fades away.

Horseshit.

I have to stifle a wry laugh now, toweling off—and already hard as a rock, craving to feel Jolene’s body clench for me again.

Age has nothing to do with it. Turns out, that was just a lie I told myself to keep from going crazy with missing her. Because there was nothing dulled last night with Jolene. Nothing old or jaded, or faded in that bed.

It was a fucking miracle, better than even the very best of my memories. I don’t know what it means for us just yet—if there even is an ‘us’.

But I do know that I wantmore.

When I step backinto the bedroom, Jolene is still asleep, burrowing facedown in the pillows now, so I quickly dress, and leave a scribbled note, then head out on a mission. Because even though I’d happily post up here in bed with her for the rest of the day—make that,week—I can’t forget the reason for our trip. Or the half-dozen missed calls from the studio on my phone.

The clock is ticking, and we’re still miles out from finding our missing Darcy.

Luckily, there’s more life to the village on a Monday morning. It’s still clouded over and spitting rain, but the barmaid helps me call for that tow, and soon, Derek is delivering the mud-splattered Volkswagen to outside the pub—looking surprisingly perky for a man who was three sheets to the wind last night.

“Engine’s working fine,” he reports, handing me back the keys. “Shouldn’t give you any trouble, as long as you don’t go diving into any more ditches.”

“I’m not planning on it. Cheers.” I exhale in relief and tip the man generously.

“Oh, I couldn’t,” he protests—and then immediately folds the bills into his wallet.

“Know anywhere we can get some breakfast before we get on the road?” I ask. Jolene gets grumpy on an empty stomach, and Christ knows, I could use some coffee, too.

“Try the bakery, just around the corner,” Derek suggests, so I take a quick stroll and pick up some bacon sarnies and a couple of sticky buns too, for good measure. By the time I bound up the stairs at the pub, balancing two Styrofoam coffee cups, I’m fortified, revved up, and ready to go another ten rounds—

“Oh. Hey. Good morning.”

Jolene’s up, already dressed in jeans and a hoodie, pulling her damp hair back into a messy bun.

“Morning,” I smile at the sight of her. “I didn’t want to wake you. You were snoring like a steam train,” I add, moving closer for a good morning kiss.

But Jolene grabs her backpack and flashes me a bright, distant smile. “Good news from Reeve and Hazel!” she announces, putting distance between us. “Our rumor that Hugo has the flu took off like wildfire, so they’re all none the wiser down in Sussex. Did you sort our wheels?”

I pause, thrown by the sudden shift in mood. “It’s waiting for us downstairs. Could use a wash, but it’s no worse for wear.”

“Great!” Jolene beams again, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Well, we should get going. Hugo’s got a major head-start, but with any luck, he’s been holed up with his mystery woman in Glasgow, and hasn’t come up for air.”

She grabs the last of her things and stuffs them into her bag. “Ready?” she asks, still smiling that damn impersonal smile. Then I see a flicker of apprehension in her eyes.

Something guarded.

Something like regret.

Fuck.

“About last night…” I begin slowly, beginning to get a very bad feeling.

Jolene trills a laugh. “Oh, I know. Wild, right? But it was probably inevitable. Stuck in close quarters, all that history… Talk about a blast from the past! We really couldn’t help it, with the romance of the rain and all…”

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