We clung to each other and moved with a ferocity we’d never had before, until he collapsed, spent and breathing hard, his face in the groove between my neck and my shoulder. I held him close to me and stroked his hair.

Whatever this was, this feeling, I wasn’t sure I was ready for it.

*

I was fidgeting. I fidget when I’m anxious, mostly with my hands, and at that moment I was interlocking and unlocking my fingers in quick succession. I glanced across at James, who was driving with the same ease and confidence I’d seen before. In the midst of everything I felt, I lusted after the confident, sexy man who made driving in London traffic—there is always traffic in London, even on a Saturday morning—look easy.

My phone bleeped from my lap. Cat. I had just texted her to let her know we were on our way.

I want to meet him.

What? No! No way! James meeting Cat was not part of the plan. I was barely able to admit I had feelings for him. I was not ready for him to meet the family.

No.

Her reply was so quick I was surprised she could type that fast.

I know you know your no is bollocks. I’m meeting him.

I’m going to kill my sister.

NO! I’m not ready.

I lifted my thumb to my mouth and nibbled on the nail.

When am I going to meet him then? At the wedding???!!!

Grrr! I was not in the mood for Cat to prolong her proposal joke by playing the “future brother-in-law” card.

No wedding. UR not meeting him. That’s final.

I don’t usually go for abbreviations in texts, but I had to type fast to get Cat to back down. Not only was I not ready for James to meet Cat, but I wanted to say goodbye in private, not with my little sister ogling us. Surely, she could figure that out! My phone bleeped again.

See you out front!

Yep. I was definitely going to kill my little sister. Maybe I could convince James to run her over with his fancy car. “Everything okay?” James asked, glancing over at me. I hid the screen of my phone with my hand, just in case reading tiny type with a mere sideways glance was amongst his hidden talents.

“Uh huh. Just texting Cat about our plans for the day.” That sounded breezy, right?

“So, what’s in store then?” Crap, I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Lying was hard.

“Oh, she wants to go shopping, but I’m thinking of the National Gallery. I love that place.” Or, maybe lying wasn’t that hard.

“You’ll get to see sunflowers,” he said. I didn’t get it.

“Sunflowers?”

“Van Gogh. Sunflowers is my favourite painting in the National Gallery,” he replied.

I caught up. “Oh, yes, it’s mine too!” That part wasn’t even a lie. I love that painting—or rather, that series of paintings. I’d seen two of them in person—at the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam and the one in London.