Sushi for Beginners - Marian Keyes [162]
But Lisa was filled with skittish optimism. It wouldn’t dare rain. ‘No, let’s go.’ And off they set.
The too-bright rays of the sun filtering through the swollen clouds had the effect of making everything look almost super-real. Stray clumps of grass were lit to a green so bright it was nearly hallucinogenic. The grey stone of the pier bounced a purple colour back at her. Any fool could tell it was about to piss down, but Lisa was determined that it wouldn’t.
So this was walking, she thought, as they strode along. Well, it wasn’t so bad. The air smelt funny, though.
‘Fresh.’ Jack cleared the matter up for her. ‘See that there,’ he pointed proudly to a boat. ‘That’s mine.’
‘That one?’ All excited, Lisa gestured at a sleek, shiny-white gin palace.
‘No, that one.’
‘Oh.’ It was only then that Lisa noticed the tatty craft beside it. She’d thought it was a piece of driftwood. ‘Fabulous!’ she managed. Well, he liked it, why not pretend? Blimey, she thought, I must like him.
Before they were halfway down the pier, the rain started with delicate patters. Lisa had dressed for many eventualities, but rain wasn’t one of them. Goose-pimples puckered her bare arms.
‘Here, put this on.’ Jack was shrugging off his hip-length leather jacket.
‘I couldn’t.’ Of course she could – and would – but it couldn’t hurt to be fluffy-coy.
‘You can.’ Already he was arranging the crackly jacket on her shoulders, the heat from his body wrapping itself around her. She slipped her arms into the still-warm sleeves, the cuffs covering her hands, the shoulders swamping her. The jacket was miles too big and it felt good.
‘We’d better go back,’ he said, and as the rain began to pelt down they started running. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to hold hands. ‘You’ll never come here with me again,’ he gasped as they sprinted.
‘Too right.’ She flashed him a grin, savouring the dry warmth of his palm and his big-man’s fingers laced into hers.
When they reached the car, Jack was soaked. His hair was shiny-black and plastered to his skull and his drenched shirt was semi-transparent and stuck to him, tantalizingly showing a covering of chest-hair. She wasn’t much drier.
‘Christ!’ With a screech of outraged laughter he surveyed himself.
Spilling over with good humour, Lisa panted, Open the car fast!’
She ran round to the passenger side, expecting him to wrench the key into the lock, but then she glanced up at him…
Afterwards, when she thought about it, she couldn’t be sure which one of them had made the first move. Did he? Or did she? All she knew was they were suddenly swinging into each other and she found herself up against the hardness of his front, his wet thighs against hers. His face was spattered with drops and his hair had gone into little points which were dripping into his dark eyes. And he lowered his mouth to hers.
Lisa was aware of many things: the salty smell of a rain-soaked sea, the cool drops on her face, the warmth of his mouth and the fish-leap in her knickers. Pretty sexy stuff. She felt like something from a Calvin Klein ad.
The kiss wasn’t a lengthy one, coming to an end before it really got going. Quality rather than quantity. Gently unpeeling his lips from her yielding ones, Jack guided her to the car and whispered, ‘In you get.’
They drove back into town and went to a café-bar where she dried her hair under the hand-drier. Then she fixed her make-up and went back out to the bar, smiling widely. Over a glass of wine and a pint, they talked in low, comfortable tones, mostly gossipy chat about the people at work.
‘Tell me, is Marcus Valentine going out with our very own Ashling?’ Jack asked.
‘Mmmm. And what do you reckon to Kelvin and Trix?’
‘Don’t tell me they’re an item!’ Jack looked quite shaken at the thought. ‘I thought she was going out with a – what does she call him? – a fish-mongrel?’
‘She is, but I just have a feeling she and Kelvin might end