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He opens the back doors of the van and lifts out a toolbox that he sets down at his feet. He leans back in to reach for something else, and I can’t help but admire the way his black multi-pocketed trousers stretch across his arse.

My steps slow this time, for two reasons: to take the time to admire this guy as he pulls more tools from his van, setting them at his feet before reaching in again. He even straps a tool belt to his waist. I also hope that by the time he’s got everything he needs, I’m positioned appropriately to offer help to take them inside and get a proper look. I might even be able to talk to him about the plans for the building. I stop to admire some brightly coloured pansies in a planter outside a shop, keeping one eye on him. He can’t plan to carry all of this in one go, surely?

He finally closes the doors of the van and locks it with a click of his key fob.This is my chance.I move forward, ready to offer my assistance, when he turns towards me.

No.

It can’t be.

This has to be all in my mind.

I’ve conjured him from all that late night staring at his phone number.

I reach up to rub my eyes, suddenly understanding why it’s the go-to reaction for cartoon characters who can’t quite believewhat they’re seeing. It doesn’t change anything. I don’t know what to do.

But my mouth, the body organ that gets me into the most trouble, does. And I shout, “Cam,” to get his attention.

Chapter seven

Cam

Iwill not take more than one trip. As I pulled each item out from the van, it had become a challenge. I can’t leave any of these expensive tools out on the street while I carry some of them in. So it all needs to be in one. But I can’t help cursing myself as I lock the van and look at the pile at my feet. There’s no way. I contemplate pulling my phone out to call one of the guys inside to help me. But that feels like admitting I’m not as strong as they all think. So, fuck that. I will do this even if it kills me. I start by gathering up the power drill case and my toolbox in one hand, wedging another item in the crook of that arm. And contemplate the pile that’s left. Maybe I should chuck something back in the van and come back?

“Cam.” I jolt at the cry of my name, standing up straight to take in the sight before me.

Pixie?

It can’t be.

A grin splits my face at the sight of her. It may be a shock to see her, but it most definitely isn’t a bad one.

“Pixie.” Her moniker comes out in a low rasp. The shock of seeing her stealing my ability to speak.

Her brows are high, and her mouth is open in an adorable O shape, showing she’s just as shocked as I am. Her lilac hair tumbles around her face, and I feel the sudden need to be closer to her.

“Let me help.” She rushes forwards, looking down at my hands. I follow her gaze, having completely forgotten I’d been overloading myself with heavy tools. I drop them all beside me and use the momentum of her movement forward and my now free arms to capture her in a bear hug.

“I thought you were dead,” I whisper in her ear, refusing to let her go anytime soon.

“What?” Her laugh is warm against my neck. “Put me down, you big oaf.”

I’ve lifted her clear off the floor, and it’s a wretch to set her back down. I want to keep my hands on her, to be certain she doesn’t run off on me again.

“What the fuck, Cam? What are you doing here? What do you mean, you thought I was dead?”

“I didn’t hear from you. Not even a quick ‘I’m back safe at my hotel’ the night you left.” I try to keep the frustration from my tone, but the blush rising on her cheeks must mean she can hear it.

“I didn’t say I would,” she tells me, having to lift her chin to look up at me.

“Neither you did.” Her head tilts as she tries to decipher the Scottish term. “But I still hoped I’d hear from you. We had a good night, didn’t we?” I ask her, desperate for confirmation from her lips that the night blew her mind as well as mine.Despite not knowing her name or having any way to make contact, I haven’t been able to forget her.

“We did. I did think about reaching out, but it seemed daft when I was down here and you were all the way up there.”

“You live here?” I ask her, hopefulness perching in my heart like a bird on a gently swaying branch.

“Err, yeah.” She’s got that cagey look on her face, the one she had each time conversation veered too close to the personal on the night I’d spent with her and Saff.

“What are you doing here? You’re a long way from home.”