Just for the Rush. Jane Lark

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СКАЧАТЬ even though I’d slept for hours. I hadn’t slept well for days. I’d been too messed up over everything going on with Rick.

      The services sign was up ahead, and then the white bar signs counted down to the turning. Jack flipped the indicator on and turned on to the slip road.

      There were only about a dozen cars parked in there. I guess most people were not in a motorway services at nearly midnight on… I didn’t say the word, not even to myself, he was right, we should treat this like a normal day.

      After he parked up, he looked at me. ‘Pull the hood of your parka up, then you won’t have to look at any of that festive shit. I’m wrapping my scarf around my head.’

      I laughed.

      ‘We’re going in, doing what we need to do, then we’ll grab a coffee from Burger King. They’re right by the door and they’ll be quick, and we can drink it out here.’

      ‘Don’t you want a longer break from the car?’

      ‘No. I’d rather not put up with that fucking merry music playing.’

      He pulled a beanie hat out of his pocket, slid it on and pulled it down to his eyebrows. Then he reached over the back, through the gap between the seats, and grabbed a scarf, folded it double and wrapped it around his neck, then pulled one half through the other. Finally, he settled both his beanie and his scarf so they covered his ears and nearly covered his eyes. ‘I’m ready.’

      I flicked my hood up. ‘Come on, then.’ I opened the door when he did.

      It was cold outside. I’d swear it was colder than London had been. I shoved my hands into my pockets as I shivered, walking towards the services. He caught up with me and his arm came around my shoulders. It felt nice.

      We walked up to the door like that, with me leaning against him.

      As soon as we walked in, though, we realised his plan wasn’t going to work, there was a metal grill barring access to Burger King – they’d already closed up and gone home.

      Wizzard’s, ‘I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day’, played out.

      ‘Shit,’ he said under his breath.

      ‘I fancy a change of seat for a bit, anyway, a hard chair in the café will wake me up.’

      ‘Alright, I’ll brave the good cheer for you. But I need the toilet first.’

      ‘So do I. I’ll meet you in the café.’

      ‘Okay.’

      We parted ways.

      When I came out he was standing at the entrance to the café, with his hands in the pockets of his jacket, looking stupid with his hat pulled down and his scarf pulled up, but of course his striking blue eyes against his dark lashes and brows, and the bone structure of his cheeks were still visible. I’d bet, even half covered up like that, the women in here thought he was the best-looking man who’d been through here for days. The women in the café were watching him.

      ‘You owe me big time for making me stand here listening to this merry fucking music.’

      The merry music, was now ‘Last Christmas’ by Wham.

      ‘Can we get something to eat? I’m starving.’

      ‘Sure, go on then. I’d be mean to make you wait another hour.’

      I picked up a tuna-melt for the server to heat up. ‘Are you having something?’

      He took a look at what was left in the chiller and chose a pasta salad. Then he shouted over to the girls who were waiting on our order. ‘I’ll have a cappuccino but with three shots, and a skinny, vanilla latte…’ He glanced at me with an eyebrow lift to check that’s what I wanted. I nodded.

      When he got to the till he took out his wallet. While he looked out his card, he said, ‘Can you put that sign down for a minute please. I don’t want to see it. Not everyone is happy about that shit.’

      The girl made an odd face, then knocked it over. I guess the customer was always right.

      He held his card over the machine so it paid on the contactless connection.

      ‘We’ll bring the tuna-melt over, Ha—’

      ‘Don’t you dare say it.’

      ‘Who are you? Scrooge.’

      Jack threw the woman a glare.

      She flipped up her sign.

      I laughed and grasped his arm, pulling him away before he decided to make it a full-on argument.

      He picked up a plastic fork to eat the pasta with, and napkins and sugar. I’d never seen him take sugar before, but then he didn’t usually drink cappuccino either.

      I took a sip from my latte, watching him as he opened his salad and took a forkful. I liked his hands. He was right, I had watched him a lot at work, but it wasn’t just his face I watched, and his hands were fascinating. I think he actually had his fingernails manicured; they were always perfectly shaped, with no cuticle. He had hands he could model with, his fingers were long and slender, and yet they looked as masculine as the rest of him.

      I glanced up. ‘Can I have one of the serviettes?’

      He smiled at me, ‘Sure, knock yourself out.’

      I took one then leant down to get my handbag; I’d put it by my feet. I couldn’t find a pen, but I had a black eyeliner. I took the lid off and then I wrote on the white serviette.

      When I finished, I slid it across the table. ‘Just to make things official.’

       Dear Jack

       I’m giving you my notice. I don’t want to work for you any more. As of right now, you are not my boss. You’re my lover.

       Yours sincerely

       Ivy Cooper

      He looked up and laughed. Then he folded the serviette and slipped it into his inside pocket. ‘I’m keeping that as evidence that you said yes to me. I might even have it framed and put up in my office.’

      ‘Don’t you dare.’

      He gave me a grin as the woman brought my tuna-melt over.

       Chapter 3

      We’d come off the motorway about thirty minutes ago, and since then the roads had been gradually getting narrower and darker. The place looked like Middle Earth, the little of it I could see in the headlights.

      I’d never been this far north before. I hadn’t known what to expect, but it hadn’t been gnarly woods, broad glass-like lakes and tall hills hemming us in on every side as Jack drove СКАЧАТЬ