Page 26 of Never Date a Celebrity

“Hey.” Amy was beaming when they pulled apart, and good Lord, her smile really was the best sight. “Wow, look at you. You look like the best tour guide I’ve ever had.”

And just like that, Imogen relaxed. All that panic for nothing. The second Amy smiled at her and said hello, everything felt easy again. “Thanks. But I thought you said I wasn’t your tour guide,” she said playfully.

Amy threaded her arm through Imogen’s, and in unspoken agreement, they started to stroll slowly along the path together. “Oh, you’re right, I did say that.” She proceeded to look thoughtful. “What word did I use again?”

“I think you went with friend.” Imogen was fishing, and she knew it.

“Ah yes. How boring.”

Imogen gave her a sideways look. “Boring? You think being friends with me would be boring?”

“Generally, no.” Amy grinned and nudged into her gently. “But I think, for me, having you as only a friend sounds relatively boring. Especially when you show up to meet me looking like that.”

“Like what?”

Amy’s gaze dragged over her slowly. “Like that. All adventurey and appealing.”

“Oh, I see.” Imogen tried to remain serious even though she was dying to smile. Dying to. Amy was openly flirting with her, and it was everything. “So, what did you have in mind if being my friend is out of the question?”

Amy tilted her head. “Dare I use the word date? Or is that too presumptuous?”

There it was. The confirmation that Imogen had been waiting for—hoping for. She made an attempt to play it cool. “I mean, I suppose it’s more flattering than tour guide.”

Amy laughed. “Well, I do like to flatter. Especially women I’ve been thinking about for days.”

“Stop that. You have not thought about me for days.” This woman was too good to be true.

“Only I have. And now it’s out there in the open and I can breathe easier. Now, which way are we going?”

Imogen studied Amy’s attire. Black leggings and a light pink, black, and white fitted fleece. The outfit looked adorably outdoorsy, and particularly fantastic on Amy. The white running shoes, however, might not be quite so white by the end of their date. That’s right, date. “I’d planned a bit of a hike. Are you up for it?”

“Absolutely.” Amy followed Imogen’s gaze down to her feet. “Are these no good? They’re the comfiest shoes I have over here with me. I can walk for miles in them.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine, but they might get a bit dirty.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I like the idea of getting dirty with you.” Amy shot her a devious grin and Imogen’s heart just about stopped. This blatant flirting was unexpected, in the very best way. “What?” Amy then asked innocently.

“You’re trouble and you know it, that’s what,” Imogen said, and Amy laughed again because she clearly did know. Imogen squeezed her arm which was still interlocked with hers and guided her in the direction of their walk. “Come on, trouble. This way.” She led them to a narrow lane just off the main road and she walked ahead to swing open the gate for them.

“Are we allowed in here?” Amy asked as she walked through it regardless.

“Yeah, some of the land belongs to folk from around here, but they’re fine with people using their lanes to get around. The gates are there to keep animals in rather than to keep people out.” Imogen adjusted the bag straps on her shoulders and fell into step beside Amy once she pulled the gate shut behind them. Their footsteps crunched along the stony path. “The main roads don’t go where I’m taking you.”

“That sounds both intriguing and a touch unnerving at the same time.”

“Unnerving?”

“Well, if you’re a serial killer, then I’m blindly following you to what sounds like the perfect spot for you to kill me. Far away from civilisation.”

“Yet you don’t look too worried about it.”

Amy shrugged. “If you are a serial killer, you seem like a nice one. You might spare me.”

“Or how else would I lure you in?” Imogen said straight-faced. Amy blankly stared at her until Imogen broke and started to laugh. “Relax. The killing life isn’t for me. I’m not a big fan of blood for one thing.”

“Ah. That would put a wrench in the works I’d imagine,” Amy said. “In that case, I’m very excited to see where you have planned for me.”

Imogen led them along the path that cut through some of the fields. Watching Amy light up over every animal they passed did ridiculous things to Imogen. When they reached one of the fields that had horses, Imogen stopped and opened up her bag. “When I walk this way, I usually feed them. The owner told me that they go mad for apples.” She pulled out three, one for each horse. “Do you want to do the honours?”