Bride Required. Alison Fraser

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      Baxter mentally raised another eyebrow. ‘You’ve obviously not heard the expression, “beggars can’t be choosers”.’

      He didn’t expect her reaction; she rounded on him furiously. ‘I am not a beggar! I’m a busker. There is a difference!’

      ‘Okay! Okay!’ he pacified in quick order. ‘I didn’t mean anything by it.’

      Her eyes still flashed with anger. Expressive eyes, blue and wide, and revealing a passionate nature behind the cool exterior. He studied her face properly for the first time and was surprised to discover it was more than passingly pretty.

      Dee didn’t like the way he was looking at her. In fact, she was contemplating telling him to stuff his money when Rick turned up with the teas.

      ‘You want work Saturday afternoon?’ he asked as he laid them down.

      ‘Yeah, okay,’ Dee shrugged, and Rick departed with a satisfied nod.

      ‘You work here?’

      ‘Sometimes, when Rick needs someone to wash dishes.’

      ‘So we’re on your home territory?’ he pursued.

      ‘Sort of…I live in a squat nearby.’ She didn’t go into specifics.

      Baxter added, ‘On your own?’

      Her eyes narrowed. ‘Is it relevant?’

      They had returned to the suspicious phase of their relationship.

      Baxter sighed. ‘To me personally, no, but for this…job I have in mind, it’s best that you’re unattached.’

      ‘Then I’m unattached,’ she revealed, then added on impulse, ‘What about you? Have you a significant other?’

      The question took Baxter by surprise. He half smiled at the cheek of her, before saying, ‘I don’t think that’s any of your business.’

      ‘I’ll take that as a yes.’ She helped herself to four sugars before she noticed his appalled stare. ‘Got to get your calories any way you can.’

      ‘With most women it’s the other way round,’ he commented dryly.

      She pulled a face, then quipped, ‘Maybe I should write a book, passing on tips. The no home, no hips diet. Live rough and watch the pounds fall off.’

      Baxter laughed, although it wasn’t really funny. Perhaps he had compassion fatigue. He’d spent much of the last decade in the Third World, where hunger meant death.

      Pity stirred in him as he watched her drink down her tea with great thirst. ‘What’s the food like in this place?’

      She gave a short laugh. ‘Great, if you’re into greasy-spoon cuisine and want a cholesterol level in double figures.’

      ‘I see what you mean.’ Baxter scanned a menu that boasted endless variations of something and chips. ‘Still, I’ll risk it if you will…my treat.’

      Dee’s pride told her to turn down charity, but her stomach was speaking a different language. ‘I suppose I could keep you company.’

      ‘Gracious of you,’ he drawled at her offhand acceptance, then signalled to the owner.

      He came over and asked without much interest, ‘Problem, is there?’

      ‘No, we’d like to order some food,’ Baxter told him.

      Rick looked put out, then said in a resigned tone, ‘Yeah, okay.’

      ‘Dee?’ Baxter invited her to order first.

      She hesitated, then decided that if she was going to take charity she might as well go the whole distance. ‘Sausage, bacon, tomato, fried bread, egg and chips.’

      Baxter just stopped himself raising a brow at this list and muttered, ‘Twice.’

      ‘Yeah, okay,’ Rick said once more, sighing at the effort it was going to cost him to cook it.

      ‘Cheery sort of fellow,’ Baxter remarked when he was out of earshot.

      Dee wasn’t a great fan of Rick either, but she felt the need to defend him. ‘His wife left him recently. He’s still cut up about it. Cleaned out their bank account, too.’

      ‘That’s women for you,’ Baxter joked, forgetting she was one for a moment.

      Dee realised it and flipped back, ‘Well, if it is, you don’t have to worry.’

      ‘Sorry?’

      ‘About women.’

      ‘Not being married, no,’ he agreed.

      ‘Nor likely to be either,’ she added a little tartly.

      Baxter assumed he was being insulted, but chose to laugh instead. ‘You think I’m so ineligible?’

      Dee frowned. ‘Well, naturally, I assumed…unless, of course, you’re bisexual.’

      ‘Bisexual?’ He looked at her as if she were mad.

      ‘Okay, okay, just a suggestion.’ She held her hands up, taking it back. ‘Is that some sort of insult if you’re gay?’

      ‘Gay?’ he echoed again.

      ‘Lord, is that the wrong term, too?’ Dee was beginning to wish she’d talked about the weather instead. ‘I thought homosexuals didn’t mind being called that.’

      He seemed to finally catch up with the conversation. ‘Who told you I was homosexual?’

      ‘You did, earlier. Remember?’

      ‘Vaguely.’

      ‘Don’t worry,’ she assured him. ‘I won’t go advertising it.’

      He seemed about to say something. Dee had the strong impression he was going to deny it. She hoped he wouldn’t. She was beginning to like him, but she couldn’t stand liars.

      In the end, however, he said without much conviction, ‘That’s good to hear.’

      ‘I won’t, honestly,’ Dee stressed. ‘And it’s not as if it’s obvious. I mean you look very masculine, really.’

      ‘Should I take that as a compliment?’ he asked in ironic tones.

      ‘No.’

      ‘I thought not.’

      Dee pulled a slight face and wished he would stop trying to put her on the spot.

      They lapsed into silence as Rick came to set the table in front of them.

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