Autumn Blockbuster 2024 by Marie Ferrarella Kate Hardy Susan Carlisle and Naima Simone

Author:Marie Ferrarella, Kate Hardy, Susan Carlisle and Naima Simone
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises
Published: 2024-02-15T12:54:28+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE NEXT DAY, Alice was already waiting by the entrance to the gardens when Hugo got there, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw her.

‘Hi.’ He’d said goodbye to her with a kiss, yesterday. Could he say hello with a kiss, too? He was so out of touch with dating, and he didn’t want to get this wrong. It was ridiculous to feel this nervous and awkward; he was thirty-two, not fifteen. But he had a feeling that Alice could really matter to him, and he didn’t want to make a mistake that could take all the possibilities away.

She blushed. ‘Hi.’

Her voice was slightly breathy and shy, and that decided him. He kissed her cheek. ‘Thank you for coming.’

‘I really thought we’d be heading to see a dome or a staircase,’ she said, and he loved the slightly cheeky, teasing look in her eyes.

He smiled and took her hand. ‘The staircase I want to show you next isn’t open at weekends. Maybe Wednesday lunchtime?’

‘That works for me,’ she said. ‘So why did you pick here?’

‘I used to come here with Rosemary when I was small. I haven’t been for a few years,’ he said, ‘but I wanted to take a look at the glasshouses.’

‘Is that what you meant by mainly a date?’ she asked. ‘Are you in the running to restore the glasshouses or something and you wanted to check them out?’

‘Possibly, but that’s not what I had in mind,’ he said. ‘Let’s go for a wander.’

She handed him a ticket, pre-empting any arguments over who was going to pay for their admission. ‘Seeing as I got here before you,’ she said, ‘and you took me to dinner last night, our admission’s on me.’

‘It’s my idea, so it’s my bill,’ he protested.

‘No. We’re sharing,’ she said firmly.

He sighed. ‘Alice, I’ve apologised for ever thinking you were a gold-digger. I know you’re not like that.’

‘Good. But let’s not fight,’ she said, and tucked her arm into the crook of his.

Strolling round the gardens with her was a delight. She pointed out her favourite flowers, and several different species of butterflies; but, more than that, Hugo just liked being with her. He didn’t have to pretend, with her; he could just be himself. She knew about Emma, and she hadn’t judged him or told him what he should be doing. Not having to fake being a normal, functioning human being was so refreshing; and, in a weird way, taking that pressure off meant that he could actually function normally and focus on things he usually didn’t have the energy to notice because he was too busy trying to get through the day.

When they stopped at the cafe for brunch of coffee and a bacon sandwich, he said, ‘I want to run something by you.’

‘Is this the non-date part?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’ He paused. ‘I’ve been looking at your figures for the butterfly house.’

She went very still. ‘Uh-huh.’

‘Tomorrow I’ll instruct Philip Hemingford to fulfil my great-aunt’s will.’ He smiled. ‘Though you’ve probably already guessed that.

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