Page 86 of The Last Kiss

“What are you actually scared of ma petite?”

“What if she doesn’t like me?” What if she can see straight through me? Can see I’m broken. Knows that in a few days I’m going to walk away from this place and maybe never see you again? What if she knows you might love me, for some crazy reason I don’t yet understand, and she knows I’m going to break your heart the way I’m breaking my own?

“She’s not going to hate you.” His face falls. “Listen, Julianna, I need to tell you something.”

My stomach lurches. “What?”

We are interrupted by the peering of dark-blue eyes around the door frame at the end of the hallway. Eyes exactly the same colour as Henri’s.

I face him, open mouthed. “Please don’t…”

Laughing, he clutches my face in his hands and pecks a kiss on my mouth. “Simone,” he beckons the slender child forward once he’s pulled away. “This is Julia, my friend.” The girl, maybe ten I reckon, nods her dark-haired head. “And this is Simone, my niece.”

She talks in rapid French.

“Anglais, Simone.” He stops her.

“Pardonne, Uncle.” She swaps to spotless English. “Grand-mère wants to know when you are ready.”

Henri clicks his tongue; those lips I want to kiss all day long pressing into a firm line briefly before he smiles. “Right now. On time, as she likes.”

Oh crap. She’s going to know instantly the reason we are short on time is because we’ve been screwing like bunnies all afternoon.

His fingers clutch mine again and give a gentle squeeze and we turn, now a party of three, towards the main dining area.

I gasp as we walk outside, feeling Henri’s gaze landing on me. I don’t have any words, or any reaction at all, because I’ve never seen anything like this. Millions of tiny, warm-hued lights are wrapped around the wooden structure of the terrace’s frame. Crisscrossing above our heads, they create a canopy of twinkling stars below those already lighting the sky. “Oh, my goodness, Henri, this is magical.”

“Odile designed it.” Simone turns. “She’s very clever at things like this.”

“She is.” I smile at them both. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

“Come, let me introduce you.”

He leads me, not letting go of my fingers no matter how hard I’m trying to slide them from his grip, towards a circular table in the middle of the restaurant. It’s a power position. From this spot you can see everything, and everyone can see you.

I don’t know what I’m expecting, but maybe given the size of Henri, the last thing is a sparrow-sized woman, her features sharp and quick, dark-slate gaze flitting straight to where our hands touch.

“Henri, tu es en retard. Trop occupé dans la grange j'entends.”

I have no idea what she says, but Henri drops his face down and smirks a little.

“Apologies,” she switches to English. “I said, you are late, but I hear you’ve been busy in the barn.”

Oh. My. God.

“My apologies. We had trouble locating shoes suitable for your beautiful restaurant. Your home is beautiful.” Jesus, I nearly curtsey. Henri holds me up straight and squeezes my hand one last time before dropping it and striding for his mother’s side.

“Maman, you shouldn’t believe all the rumours the staff spread around.”

Her quick gaze flicks back over to me. “Usually when they involve you, Henri, they are true.”

He narrows his gaze but keeps his smile firmly in place. “Maman, I would like to introduce you to Julianna Brown. Julia, this is Aline Carré, my mother. Ignore her tongue, she has too much time on her hands.” He gives her an affectionate shoulder squeeze.

“It is because I’m a widow that I have far too much time on my hands. I only have my Henri here to care for me in my old age.”

From across the table, I see their friend Odile, shoe saviour, roll her eyes slightly. Ah. I see.

“I’m sorry for the loss of your husband.”