My Lonely Valentine by Jackie Keswick

Author:Jackie Keswick [Keswick, Jackie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jackie Keswick
Published: 2021-02-21T00:00:00+00:00

Three months later

Spring Bank Holiday weekend came with the traditional threat of grey skies and heavy rain. As if the weather gods were really that petty and picked out the nastiest weather when most of the population had time to go out and enjoy themselves.

Zara and I had finished work late on Thursday evening and were treating ourselves to an extra-long weekend. We’d worked our socks off during the last six weeks, landing two large accounts, and completing a major campaign for Tony’s company. A few days away from phones and computers would be heavenly.

I would see Reno, too, unless something had gone seriously awry in finance land.

We’d been taking the slowest of slow steps, getting reacquainted and restarting our friendship before going any further, but we’d made progress. Texts and phone calls had grown into dinner dates, often followed by a leisurely stroll along the river. We’d been to a rugby match and the theatre, and Reno had dragged me along to help him choose a new suit. On May Day, we’d finally shared our second first kiss. A mix of past and present, it had been a midnight kiss as the original one, exchanged in the spot by the river where we’d given ourselves a second chance.

Work had kept our meetings short after that, but when I’d seen the weather forecast for this weekend, I’d decided that it would be great if we spent the whole Bank Holiday together at my place.

Reno had agreed to my proposal with flattering promptness. And I’d given myself an extra day off, so I could spend the morning at the market and have dinner ready when Reno arrived after work.

It would be the first time he came to my flat. By some sort of unspoken agreement, we’d stuck to dates in public places. But while we laughed and chatted and argued over everything and nothing, it had become increasingly difficult for me to keep my hands off him. Especially after that kiss.

I’m still grateful it had been ridiculously late—or early—and a Tuesday night. Or we might have got in trouble with the law. We’d sped well past heated and into public indecency territory before we’d recollected where we were.

Saying goodbye and walking away from Reno had never been so difficult.

Even now, the memory of the two of us plastered together from knee to neck, and the feel of his hands under my jacket, clutching at my back, could derail every sensible thought I had in my head. It was time we did something more than kiss.

It was grey, but not yet raining when I hit Borough Market. The place was busy with shoppers and tourists in town for the weekend, but even the jostling and queueing did nothing to dent my good mood. I’d not had time to do any real cooking in a while, and I was looking forward to trying out two of the recipes from Jerez y Jamón.

I already had the ingredients to make Ajablanco and now bought tuna steaks to braise in sherry.

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