‘I’d offer you a glass of the new Blanc de Noir I’ve been tasting,’ I said, handing him his drink, ‘but you’re driving and I’m trying to cut back.’

He shot me a worried look. ‘Should you be drinking at all?’

‘I’m joking,’ I laughed. ‘I’ve become an excellent spitter; I haven’t swallowed for ages.’

He chewed his lip trying not to laugh. ‘Good to know.’

‘I’m ignoring that comment.’ I reached into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of sparkling wine. ‘But I would like you to take this home with you to try. It’s the 2016 Classic Cuvée that Sidney worked on with Clare and Matt; it’s the nicest fizz I’ve ever tasted.’

Jensen grinned. ‘And to think you used to say you knew nothing about wine.’

‘A lot has changed since then. If you’d have told me how protective I’d become of this vineyard and the grapes and all the people here, well, I wouldn’t have believed you. But now I’m a complete convert; I want to tell the world how fantastic Butterworth Wines are.’

He laughed softly and looked down at his feet. ‘You don’t make things easy for me, do you?’

My pulse raced. ‘What do you mean?’

I stood beside him, leaning against the fridge, close enough to feel the heat from his skin.

‘Outside you asked me a question. The truth is …’ He sipped his water and set his glass down. ‘If I could stay longer this evening I would; I’d really like to whisk you off somewhere for dinner and get to know you a bit better.’

I glanced down at my tummy. ‘You’ve seen bits of me that have never been seen before.’

His gaze softened. ‘That was amazing. I thought it would look like a little blob, but it was all there. A proper little person.’

My stomach swooped as I remembered my baby bouncing about looking like it was having a lovely time. ‘It is.’

He turned to face me. ‘Lottie, you being pregnant did throw me for two reasons. Firstly, because I’m worried enough about Gran here on her own and what might happen if I’m not around, but now I’ve got two of you to worry about.’

‘Betsy and I are fine. We hardly ever climb trees or practise our knife-throwing these days,’ I said, unable to resist teasing him, but secretly flattered that he cared.

‘Don’t joke, I’m serious.’ He had a crease between his eyebrows that appeared when he was worried; it was there now.

‘Sorry,’ I said, meaning it. ‘But I promise you we won’t do anything stupid.’