In Over His Head

Chapter 25

Cressida waved from her spot on the patio at the Oyster Shed, and Kevin forded past all the tables to slide in along the bench. She'd gotten them a seat behind some giant potted palms and banana trees, slightly shaded in the noon-day sun.

"Hello darling," she exclaimed.

He kissed her cheeks before sitting down. "Hello yourself, Cressy, how are you? You look radiant. Good news?"

"Lovely, lovely. I'm excited about getting over to Canada. I'm going to go back-country canoe camping in some place called Algonquin Park, can you believe it?" she exclaimed.

"I can," he replied, amused by how animated she was, her hands flailing as her smile widened.

"I have to get myself up to someplace called Huntsville. Some outfitter has a tour, I happened across it on an ad, and I figured why not? It looks reclusive and exciting! Maybe I'll see a bear, or a moose!"

"Before or after the wedding and your photo shoot?" Kevin asked. "Tempting fate again?"

"Oh after all that, of course. Can't mar the merchandise!" Cressida laughed, gesturing at her face. The waiter at that point came and took their drinks order as Kevin lounged back on the seat. He took in the scene around him, the burble of conversation. The tension of the past few days, and the stuffy meeting room from this morning dissolved away as a slight breeze ruffled his hair. It was a gorgeous day to relax on a patio.

Cressida shivered, and he swivelled to her. She was in a light blouse with a thin scarf, leggings, and chunky boots. No overcoat. He frowned.

"Cold?"

"I was an utter twat this morning and left my jacket at home when I set out because I was late once again because confirmation came in about the canoe trip, and I flounced out leaving it in the foyer. I should know better, but here I am," she blurted out in one breath, then laughed and shrugged with a smile.

"There's nothing in that gigantic bag? Unlike you to not have sixteen layers of cloth to pile on," he teased, shrugged off his suit coat and lifted his arm. "Come on. If someone takes a snap, let the tongues wag, yeah?"

"Your mother would be ecstatic. Are you sure? There'll be shots on the front of the Tatler tomorrow with our luck," Cressida said hesitantly.

"I don't care what my mother thinks," he said peevishly. "Or the Tatler. Fucking vultures. It's all lies, so it doesn't matter."

"Yes you do. That's the reason why you and that sassy sommelier of yours aren't together, and your mother hounds me about you every chance she gets."

He blinked as she quirked an eyebrow. He'd never ever said anything about her to any friend, let alone her. Obviously, the rumour mill was stronger than he anticipated, or someone on staff had let slip something to the wrong person.

"I'm sorry, pardon?" he managed.

"Oh please. Whenever I see the two of you together, you're both looking at one another like this—" and she made a pining, comically sad face, and then tapped Kevin's chest with a well-manicured fingernail. "It's not hard to connect the dots. You were cozy in France last fall according to all those pictures that flew 'round the web, and she's the red-head in all those pictures from Italy, isn't she?"

It was suddenly hot in the sunshine despite the breeze, and Kevin pulled on his tie, loosening his collar. "It's complicated," he groused, and gestured out with his arm. "Now, are you cold or not?"

"I'm always cold when I'm prepping for a shoot, you know that, Kev," she said and slid over. He draped his coat over her shoulders, stretching his arm around her on the back of the bench. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, a teasing look across her face, and pulled the coat around her further. In any other circumstances, he would be thrilled to have such a beautiful woman under his arm at a trendy bar, but all he could think about was how she didn't have freckles like Sharla did, sprinkled across her nose like fairy dust.