Grace was relieved and disappointed at the same time. And she couldn’t get to sleep for ages, tossing and turning and thinking about the situation. She was horribly aware how easy it would be to fall for Roland Devereux. But this wasn’t real, and besides she’d only just come out of a long relationship. She needed to stand on her own two feet for a bit, not just fall for the first man to smile at her.
This was a temporary arrangement. She should just enjoy it for what it was and not be stupid enough to want more.
* * *
The next morning, Grace spent her entire journey to work looking up something unusual to do with Roland. Finally she found the perfect thing. She texted him swiftly.
Meet you at seven at Docklands. We’re going by Tube. Dress code casual. Do you mind maybe eating a bit late?
It took him a while to reply.
Is fine. What are we doing?
She felt brave enough to text back, Wait and see.
Intrigued, he texted back. Bring it on.
She met him back at the house, but managed to keep him guessing about what they were doing until they were standing in the queue for the pop-up rooftop cinema.
‘We’re seeing Back to the Future?’ He smiled. ‘Considering what Hugh told me about Bella’s first meeting with his family, I should consider myself lucky this isn’t The Sound of Music.’
‘I love that film, but no.’ She smiled at him. ‘Though you very nearly got Jaws.’
He laughed. ‘I wouldn’t have minded. Actually, I really like the idea of a rooftop cinema.’ He eyed the sky. ‘Though I hope those are threatening clouds rather than actual rainclouds.’
‘They give out ponchos if it’s wet,’ she said. ‘I checked the website.’
He brushed his mouth lightly against hers. ‘That doesn’t surprise me. You’re good at organising things and you pay attention to detail.’
The compliment warmed her all through; and the kiss made her shivery at the knees. She was going to have to be so careful and keep reminding herself that she and Roland weren’t really dating. This was simply a practice run for him.
There was a bar selling film-themed cocktails—including a James Bond martini, the White Russian from The Big Lebowski, and a Cosmopolitan from Sex and the City.
‘It’s my bill, tonight,’ she said firmly. ‘Have whatever you like.’
Roland glanced down the list of non-alcoholic cocktails. ‘A Shirley Temple for me, please,’ he said.
She joined him; they had a brief argument over whether sweet or salted popcorn was better, and ended up sharing a tub of each.
The film was as feel-good and fun as she remembered it. And when Michael J. Fox hitched a ride on his skateboard, she nudged Roland and whispered, ‘I can’t ever imagine you on a skateboard.’
‘No, but I can play the guitar badly enough to make Hugh and Tarq cry—does that count?’ he whispered back.
She smiled. ‘Just.’
And then the butterflies in her stomach started stampeding as Roland took her hand and laced his fingers through hers. Was this still a practice run? Or did he mean it? He held her hand through the whole film, and she still hadn’t worked it out when the first raindrops spattered down.
The ushers swiftly handed out ponchos to the audience, who passed them along the rows of chairs. Grace couldn’t help laughing when the ponchos that reached them were pink.
‘Hey. I’m comfortable enough with my masculinity to wear pink,’ Roland said, and helped her with her poncho before putting on his own.
‘Uh-huh.’ She was still smiling.
He looked at her. ‘What?’
‘You, looking all pretty in pink. I should so grab a picture of that for Hugh and Tarquin,’ she said with a grin.
In response he kissed her until she was breathless.
And her concentration was totally shot to pieces.
After the film, they went for a burger. ‘I’m afraid this isn’t going to be anywhere near up to the standard of last night’s food,’ Grace said ruefully.
‘You’re comparing apples and pears,’ Roland pointed out, ‘and I’m as happy with a burger as I am with gourmet food.’
She scoffed. ‘You don’t seriously expect me to believe that.’
‘I eat out sometimes for work,’ he said, ‘or when Hugh and Tarq drag me out for our regular catch-up and suggest we go for a curry or a burger. But most of the time for me it’s a ready meal at home or a takeaway because I don’t really have the time or the inclination to cook.’ He looked at her. ‘But that meal you cooked me—it was very obvious that you cook on a regular basis.’