She twisted her neck and saw what he was looking at. An occupational hazard of being a wheelchair user in a crowded pub was the likelihood of finding yourself on the receiving end of other people’s spilled drinks. This evening, someone had carelessly deposited two splashes of red wine close to the neckline of her new primrose-yellow dress. They’d either not noticed or been too embarrassed to point it out.
‘Oh great,’ Hallie sighed. ‘I only bought this last week.’
‘Luckily you bumped into the right person. Come with me.’ The man with the dark blue eyes and the devastating smile added, ‘Trust me, I’m an expert.’
She’d been four minutes without supplementary oxygen and the effects were just beginning to make themselves felt, but she could cope without it for a bit longer. She followed him down to the end of the corridor and out into the pub garden, beyond the marquee.
‘Sit,’ said the man when they reached an unoccupied table and chairs at the far end of the garden. ‘I’m Ross, by the way.’
‘Ross. Hi, I’m—’
‘Beautiful.’ He pulled a face, shook his head and said, ‘Oh God, I can’t believe I actually said that; there’s no hope for me. I was just thinking it and the word accidentally popped out. I’m so sorry, please don’t run away.’
‘I’m Hallie.’ She couldn’t help smiling, because it was so screamingly obvious what Ross was like: forward, unshy, seriously attractive and wildly flirtatious. Just the glint of mischief in his eyes was enough to give it away; he was looking at her as if she were the only girl in the world. This was a naughty boy who loved to overstep the mark and knew he could almost always get away with it.
‘Hallie. Nice to meet you. Now, turn your shoulder towards me and let’s sort this out.’ Taking a clean handkerchief from his pocket, he dipped it into the smaller of the two glasses he’d carried out with him.
‘Lemonade?’
He shook his head. ‘Soda water. Trust me, it’s better than anything else. The carbon dioxide helps to break up the stain.’
She looked around. ‘Whose drink was it meant to be?’
‘Don’t worry, they’re both for me. I was late getting here. Marilyn’s son invited me . . . we’ve known each other for years. I haven’t even seen him yet.’
Hallie indicated the lit-up marquee. ‘He’s in there with his friends.’
‘That’s OK, I’ll catch up with them later. I’d much rather stay out here and talk to you.’ He was leaning towards her now, patting the soda water into the material with his clean handkerchief, holding it away from her skin and patiently working at the stain left by the red wine. ‘If you keep it damp, you’ll have more chance of getting the rest out when you get home.’
‘Well, you’re either a world stain expert or incredibly clumsy,’ said Hallie. ‘So which is it?’
Ross laughed. ‘That’s for you to find out. Looks like you need to get to know me a little better. You have incredible eyes.’
‘Clumsy with drinks but smooth with the compliments.’ Maybe even too smooth, but Hallie was smiling too; when someone was gazing into your eyes like that, it was kind of hard to look away.
‘I wish. I can be clumsy with compliments too. I once got nervous and told a girl that she had fantastic long teeth and white legs.’ He shrugged self-deprecatingly. ‘Funny how I’m still single.’
Everyone in the pub was now leaping up and down, dancing and bellowing along to Gloria Gaynor’s ‘I Will Survive’. It was one of Marilyn’s favourite songs. Hallie had always found it hard to sing those lyrics; it felt like tempting fate.
‘Are you wishing you could join in?’ Ross observed her listening to the music. ‘It’s fine, if you’re desperate to get away from me. I’ll understand.’
But he was joking; had any girl ever been desperate to get away from him? When you were that good-looking, it simply didn’t happen.
As if she could physically get up and dance at the moment anyway; the effects of doing without the extra oxygen were really making themselves known now.
Still, just ignore it. Mind over matter.
‘I’m happy to stay here.’ Hallie found herself gazing at his mouth; it was possibly one of the most beautiful mouths she’d ever seen.
‘I’m so happy you’re happy,’ said Ross. ‘In fact I’m so very happy you’re happy. Can we stay out here all night and get to know each other? Would that be OK with you? Shall we hide away down here at the end of the garden and really get to know each other? Aarrgh.’ He clapped his hand to his head in comical despair. ‘See what I mean? It just happened again . . . that sounds so bad. I mean in the gentlemanly, non-physical, just-asking-questions sense, I promise.’