Page 17 of Hit For Six (Balls and Banter #1)

As he stepped closer, the background sound seemed to overpower everything in their surroundings so it was just the two of them.

No river to the East, no iconic Palladian-style bridge to the North, no buzz and splish-splash of traffic to the West, no ‘leisure, pleasure and polite society’ gardens to the South.

Suddenly their previously risky encounters and their different classes didn’t matter either.

Everything that stood between them was washed away in the rivulets of rain so they were woman and man.

Two beating hearts wondering what was going to happen next.

Monty’s gaze drifted to Lola’s lips and she became conscious of herself lusting after his Cupid’s bow mouth.

He continued to close the gap. Her heart galloped, his Adam’s apple bobbed.

It would have been so easy for her to shut her eyes and let nature take its course.

She could already sense him tipping her chin with his strong but gentle-looking hand so it was just the right angle for them to pick up where they’d left off, seeing where more of those delicious kisses would take them.

She felt her eyelids grow hooded, the heat pooling in her stomach, but then a group of soaked pedestrians ran past them, knocking straight into Monty and shattering the illusion.

‘Sorry!’ A couple of them cried over their shoulders, leaving a trail of nervous giggles behind them.

Lola opened her eyes just in time to dodge Monty’s stumble. He righted himself against the wall, putting out a hand so he didn’t topple over it and into the water below. The very same hand that Lola had yet to experience touching her body, and now likely never would. She let out a small sigh.

‘Just a tad embarrassing,’ he grimaced. ‘Not that I’m not well-versed in all things cringe tonight. Apart from the kiss. I rather enjoyed that part. If it isn’t… erm… ungentlemanly of me to say so.’

Lola bit her lip, not knowing how to reply.

‘C-can I see you again? Somewhere a little less busy and drier?’ Monty tried another tack, leaving Lola stunned and momentarily speechless. ‘Actually, that was supposed to be my second question. I haven’t even asked you if you’re alright?’

Lola screwed up her features. Hopefully it would make her look less attractive and encourage her mascara to run further down her face. What planet did Monty live on?

‘That… wasn’t exactly a first date and yes, I’ll survive.

Us women always do. But no.’ She laughed at the absurdity of his suggestion and then felt even more reproachable.

He looked so wounded. ‘I mean… that would be a terrible idea. I think we should never ever have anything to do with one another again. Look at all the chaos we’ve created. ’

It wasn’t strictly true. She’d saved someone from getting knocked unconscious on Friday.

But the long and the short of it was… had Monty not hit that stupid six and had she not insisted on catching it, letting Julian’s head get even bigger instead, then a catastrophic chain of events would never have been set in motion.

No matter how much she examined the details of the last few days under a microscope, the result would always be the same.

Not really. Harry didn’t have to insist on the daft corporate Friday afternoons out, Monty could have pursued a different sport, Julian could have stayed the fuck in the sister company and behaved himself, and as for you, Madam…

you could have followed your heart straight out of uni to the West End and inched your way up the rungs of theatre management instead of settling for a second best job where you are undervalued, underpaid and overlooked.

And then there are all the poor trees you’re helping to fell in the process, fighting a losing battle for the sake of nostalgia when eco-conscious humans are sending one another those cute animated Jacquie Lawson ecards.

All of which means you know exactly what you should be doing with your life right now.

‘I don’t believe that,’ Monty cut through Lola’s irksome inner voice and she tried not to show her relief.

‘Excuse me?’

‘I think we have an undeniable chemistry and it would be a crime not to–’

‘Please don’t even think about finishing that sentence.

There’s only one way it will end and it will come back to haunt the pair of us for ever.

’ Lola took a deep breath. ‘Listen, I’m flattered at the attention but you’re wearing cocktail goggles.

We’re from alternate universes with not a thing in common. The novelty would soon wear off.’

She would just have to recapture the sights, sounds and feelings of this crazy evening instead.

And if that failed, at least she knew that she could forever evoke the memory of this snapshot in time, smiling a secret smile every time she walked past this spot.

She turned to walk away, but then Monty blurted:

‘I work at Beau-re-mi… the company that made your dress.’

Lola’s heart sank. She slowly turned back to face him, slapping her forehead. And if that little piece of body language had the bonus effect of smudging her eyeliner, all the better!

‘This gets worse and worse.’ She shook her head in a make-it-make-sense style. ‘What I’m supposed to do with that nugget of info? And I don’t understand. How can you be a top cricketer and have a day job?’

Monty laughed. ‘I hate to break it to you but T20 cricket is not quite the same as premiership football. We’ve got to have a plan B. Some of us even need a plan Z.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

He was totally stalling her escape by throwing these little gems into the conversation, his luscious blue eyes twinkling in delight that he’d managed to keep the dialogue afloat. Frustratingly, it was working and Lola was too fascinated to move.

‘It means that for the past eight years I’ve been cajoled into working for the family business.

’ Lola’s eyebrows reached dizzying heights at this news.

His family owned Beau-re-mi? They must be blimming minted!

‘Let me walk you home and I’ll bore you to tears with the details.

’ Absolutely not. It might be raining but she refused to be thunderstruck.

‘There’s no need. I’m getting the bus,’ she said, surprising herself. ‘Which stops right outside my house. It’s still light. We’re not living in the 1800s. I don’t need a chaperone.’

She hated turning ice maiden but what choice did she have?

Especially after her self-imposed rules in the wake of Orlando.

The novelty of dating a working class woman would soon wear off.

She couldn’t compete with the kind of girls on Monty’s radar.

Any fantasy she had about spending future moments with this man needed to be thwarted immediately.

She was plain old Lola Smith. Besides, how could a romance possibly blossom on the back of so much embarrassment. She’d never live it down.

‘As long as you’re sure.’ He ran a hand through his hair taking her right back to that jumbotron at the game when she’d first feasted her eyes on him.

He looked incredibly sexy when he did this.

It gave her a very good insight into Monty Beauchamp-Carmichael stepping out of the shower with nothing but a very loose towel around his hips.

But somehow he looked vulnerable, too. ‘I’m going to be honest with you,’ he continued.

‘Even if we hadn’t shared that heartstopper of a kiss, I don’t give a damn about anything tonight except getting you home in one piece.

Especially not my idiot of a teammate, who I will do everything in my power to kick out of the Beasts.

Let me walk you to the bus stop at least? ’

‘Fine.’ Lola held her free hand up in surrender.

‘But I’m not going to break, it’s not far, I’m still not sharing my umbrella as that would take us right back into forced proximity territory, and I really – like truly, totally and utterly– don’t get why you are being so nice to me when all of the evidence points to the fact that you should be doing the complete opposite.

Oh, and for the record,’ Lola came up briefly for air, ‘what happened tonight was an adrenalin-fueled reaction. That’s all.

I don’t know why I’m telling you because we’ll never meet again but I have a mild case of SPD.

’ Monty looked blank. ‘Sensory Processing Disorder,’ Lola filled in the gaps.

‘I’m terrified of the dark. The kiss helped to ground me.

Thanks.’ There. Hopefully her reply was convincingly perfunctory.

‘You’re… very welcome. But let me explain myself, too.

Maybe I feel a little bit responsible for…

stuff. I might not have personally designed the dress but my actions seriously inconvenienced you last Friday.

And I also think you need to remember that there are some deeply unhappy individuals out there who will project their bullshit onto you/me/us to deflect from their painful truths. People like Tim. Don’t let them win.’

Lola looked up at the umbrella covering her head as if searching for a comeback.

Had he worked out what Julian had done? No, that was impossible.

Only a woman would do the math. She continued to stare at the dark canopy of her umbrella, oblivious to Monty’s discomfort in the downpour.

She was a bitch. The guy was soaked. It was a wonder his clothes were still attached to him.

But he could style it out. Meanwhile, there was no getting around the fact that they were two different people.

It would be foolish to think they could bend the rules.

She’d had a taste of what it would be like to call him hers on a seductively regular basis, should she be society enough. That would have to do.

‘The bus stop is around the corner. I need to go.’

Lola never took public transport around the city. Bath was compact and she preferred to walk. She knew there was a stop for a glut of bus lines around the corner outside the Guildhall, though, so she led Monty on a pointless trek, still refusing to relinquish sole use of her umbrella.

‘Great,’ he responded cheerfully as if it was a beautiful sunny day, picking up his pace behind her. ‘I’ll wait with you.’

Part of Lola really was flattered that he’d go to such lengths given his sodden state but the other part of her was pissed off.

Now she’d have to waste money on a ticket to who knew where and all she wanted to do was bury herself in her duvet, bearing in mind she had the thrill of the office to contend with tomorrow.

Fortunately, she and Monty only had to make smalltalk for a couple of minutes before a bus arrived emblazoned with the word ‘University’.

Another thing that would just have to do.

‘This is me!’ she exclaimed a little too brightly.

‘See you around, then… unless…’

‘See you around,’ Lola replied affirmatively but it took everything in her power not to look back and reel off her number to Monty.

She got on the bus and paid for a single fare to the university.

She would hop off after a couple of stops and walk the extra distance home.

It was no big deal. As long as she didn’t bump into Monty again.

Hmm, that was a point. Bath was teeming with luxury apartments and gorgeous townhouses in all directions.

Who knew if he’d go through with the cricket meal now the weather had turned.

Maybe she’d go to the end of the line, then, before she jumped off into a fittingly muddy puddle and finished the day in style.

There was only one free seat as Lola sauntered down the aisle.

Typically it was on Monty’s side of the road, where he stood martyr-like on the pavement getting further drenched.

Why was she wiping down the misty glass with her cardigan cuff, pressing her hand against the window so she could wave goodbye to him?

Had she suddenly discovered she was in possession of manners?

Monty raised his hand back, his face crestfallen as the bus pulled away.

Lola couldn’t bear being deceitful when she knew his intentions were good and tears pricked at her eyes, but he couldn’t possibly know where she lived.

He was the sort to own an impressive portfolio of homes already, and here she was renting a room in a tiny flat courtesy of a cat sitting deal.

Her plod along life was a joke in comparison to his high-flying careers and successes.

She didn’t need to feel like even more of a charity case.

Orlando had snubbed her repeatedly and she still felt battered and bruised, especially since he’d been so rude about her parents.

Maybe her fate had been mapped out from birth?

She mulled this over as the bus crossed the river, doubling back on her original route.

The name Lola derived from the Spanish name Dolores.

It meant sorrow. She had no idea why her parents had chosen it.

It was hardly the most inspiring of futures for a baby girl.

She supposed they were trying to be unique.

Gail and Greg were bread and butter English names.

Her mum had probably wanted to spice things up when she wrote out the Christmas cards.

But after hunting high and low, Lola had discovered that her name did have a modern day meaning, too.

She’d no idea who’d been given carte blanche to change it– likely another disgruntled Lola– but nowadays it also signified a strong, independent woman who rose above life’s challenges.

Which was extremely judicious and just about the only thing keeping her going right now.

What did the name Monty mean? Mountain, Lola guessed. What about if he went by Montgomery? Sensing that he probably did, given his plummy accent, Lola pulled her phone out of her bag and began to google.

Oh, oh , no: Man power.