The situation was made all the more ridiculous because almost as soon as she got into the car, she had to get back out again while Archer tucked it into the tight space of the carport. She waited on the gravel, her heart and her mind racing.

It was one thing to have a crush on a gorgeous celebrity, but in the short time she’d known him, Archer had revealed himself as so much more.

“Shall we get back to the fair?” she heard herself say as he climbed out of the car. He didn’t answer, instead striding towards her and stopping only a foot away. His eyes searched hers, almost as if he were asking if she felt it too. She had no idea who moved first, but as his head dipped towards hers, her arms reached up around his neck and she felt the firmness of his hands on the small of her back. Then his mouth was on hers in a kiss so fervent, so all consuming, that her mind started shouting, This is the best kiss of your life!

Chapter 13

Jules

“Oh, my god. Seriously, that is good.”

“I told ya. They do the best coffee here. Chloe and I joke about getting a drone so we can call in our order, then fly the drone down to pick up our coffees.”

Jules laughed. “It’s not even a two-minute walk.”

“Yeah, but sometimes you want to have your coffee and lounge about in your PJs.”

“That’s fair.”

They were at Cargo, a restaurant shaped like a boat that jutted out over the water, with both port and starboard made up of wide floor-to-ceiling windows. Ash had taken the seat that looked back at the kitchen so Jules could have the view.

Jules took another sip—a flat white, it was called. Who knew such a thing even existed? In Boulder it was all “caramel mocha lattes with whipped and a pump of vanilla”. You couldn’t even taste the coffee. This was a whole new level—the best coffee she’d ever had. “You do realise that you’ve ruined me for life, right? With the coffee and the view.”

“The view yes—it’s Docklands. I love it. But the coffee? Come on. You’ve travelled. Didn’t you go to Italy a few years back with Chloe and Lucy?”

“Yeah, and the coffee was good. I mean, hello, Italy. But I stuck to espressos and they’re crazy strong—like, stand-your-spoon-up-in-it strong. Anyway, I’ve always thought of coffee as just a caffeine-delivery device. I’ve never thought of it as … as this.”

“Yeah, well, if I’m spending a thousand dollars a year on something, it’s gonna be good.”

“A thousand …? Oh, yeah, I guess that’s right. Four bucks a day.”

“Yep.”

Jules savoured the coffee and took in the view. In the middle of the harbour was a long pier with what looked like converted warehouses—bars and function venues, by the look of them. Across the water on the other side of the harbour were more buildings—a mix of businesses and residences, and each distinct. Some were mostly glass tinted in blue or brown, and one building had brightly coloured accents as though a child had decorated it. On their left was the marina, and Jules spied a family of ducks paddling among the boats in the murky water. It reminded her of Vancouver, and she adored Vancouver.