Focus. Liam Rourke didn’t flee, he fought, and he would do that now. Would remain calm and still, wouldn’t let Ava so much as suspect the sheer stupidity of his emotions. Yet he couldn’t keep his brows from lowering into a frown at his own idiocy. How could he even contemplate a relationship with Ava? A vulnerable woman caught up in grief and complexity. The last thing she needed was man who had no idea how to navigate the shoals of a relationship. Come to that it was the last thing he needed. His relationship with Jess had been a mistake from start to finish. His mistakes had compounded, one after another and ended in tragedy. Never again would he take that risk.
‘Here we go.’ Ava tilted her phone and he pulled himself to the present. ‘These are the sort of selfies I take—because they’re fun.’ She scrolled down and he saw images of Ava with a pretty dark-haired woman. They were both beaming at the camera and the other woman was making a gesture over Ava’s head. In another they were posing, dressed in pyjamas, a big bowl of popcorn next to them.
‘That’s Emily,’ she explained. ‘She’s my best mate. This is the sort of thing I’m looking for—a fun photo. So you need to stop channelling your grumpy-old-man mindset and give this a try.’
‘Grumpy old man?’ Belatedly aware that his face was now set in a scowl, though not for the reasons Ava believed, Liam tried to change his expression to relaxed.
‘Yes,’ Ava said firmly. ‘Though actually perhaps that is an insult to grumpy old men. Come on, Liam. Selfies are part of our world and it’s time we got some evidence that you know how to have fun.’
‘I do know how to have fun.’ Was that a hint of gritted teeth he could hear in his voice?
‘Prove it.’ The challenge in her voice was unmistakeable. ‘When was the last time you had fun? And work-related events don’t count.’
Dammit. Liam racked his brains, and didn’t like the answer that kept coming up no matter how much he ransacked his memory banks. Last time he could remember having fun was with Ava, laughing, talking and then, of course, those two kisses. But before that... He was coming up blank. ‘This is a daft conversation.’
‘In other words you can’t come up with anything. Can you?’
‘I am having a temporary memory blank.’ For Pete’s sake—his brain didn’t even seem capable of making up anything fun.
Ava glanced sideways at him; a mischievous smile played on her lips. ‘Then let’s start now. I’ll race you to the waves. Last one there pays a forfeit.’
Before he could even factor in the challenge she was off and running and he wasted further seconds caught flat-footed watching her as she sprinted forward, hair streaming behind her.
Quickly he started after, marvelled at her speed on the sand that seemed to slow him down, and Ava got to the cerulean sea with a couple of seconds to spare, turned to watch him, laughter in her eyes and on her lips as he reached her. ‘I win,’ she crowed and he gave a sudden laugh.
‘So what’s my forfeit?’
For an instant her gaze snagged on his lips and he knew what she wanted to suggest, could see it in her eyes, in the unintended provocative tilt of her body towards him, the instinctive step forward and then she shook her head, a small decisive admonition to herself.
‘A funny face. You need to pull a funny face.’
That made him pause as he thought about it. ‘What sort of funny face?’
‘Any sort. Like this.’ She stuck out her tongue and put her hands to the side of her face and wiggled her fingers.
‘Fine.’ Feeling like a complete idiot, he copied her actions, was rewarded by her spontaneous peal of laughter. He stepped forward into the water, felt the cold swish of the waves as they covered his toes. Without thinking he held out his hand and she took it, and together they stepped forward until the water reached their knees.
He turned to her, looked down at their clasped hands and their previous conversation unrolled before him. Following his gaze, she too stared down and for a moment it all felt too intimate, too close, and then before it could morph into awkwardness Ava smiled.
‘It’s OK. Let’s not overthink it. Let’s use this as the perfect photo opportunity.’ Gently she dropped his hand and moved closer to him. ‘You need to put your arm round my waist.’ But now all he could think about was her closeness, how right it felt, and the panic resurged; his brain felt fuzzed by the conflict of emotion inside him. A desire to hold her close, a yearning to kiss her buffeted the knowledge that this was all wrong. A mirage.
Carefully, gingerly, he did as she said; his heart hammered his ribcage, and nerves and anticipation tightened a band across his chest as her arm slipped round his waist. His pulse pounded as her corn-blonde hair tickled his nose and a series of images flashed through his brain. All of Ava, in the shop, laughing as she raced over the sand, her expression when they’d kissed, her response, the sensations. Everything fused into an intensity of reactions and as she looked up at him, he smiled, just as the camera clicked.
He didn’t want to move, wanted to gaze on her upturned face, lean down and taste those lips, lips that enticed and tempted. The instant froze in time; it seemed to stretch and pull to urge him to act. He blinked, tried to break the spell and now she dropped her arm from his waist. Stepped back slightly shakily and shook her head so her hair hid her expression. Turned slightly away to study the photograph.
‘Look. It’s pretty good.’
Ava was right. It was good; any observer would see what they were supposed to see. A relaxed couple smiling each other. A qualm struck Liam—his smile was genuine, whilst Ava’s had obviously been her model’s pose, an illusory rictus. The knowledge felt stupidly bleak and he forced a lightness to his voice.
‘Not bad. I’ve got the hang of this. Maybe I should sign up with an agency.’
‘They’d snap you up,’ she agreed, matching his tone, though her expression was still partly obscured. ‘A few more and I think we’re good to go.’
‘Excellent. I’m not sure about you but I am hungry. There’s an amazing pasta place in town if you fancy it?’
> ‘Sounds good.’
* * *