Page 14 of Love Affair in London (Once Again #12)

T hey ordered lattes at the Costa Coffee next to the hotel, and Piper wouldn’t let him pay.

She owed him so much more than a Sunday roast and a single latte.

But there’d been something so satisfying about introducing him to roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.

She was sure it was how Hazel had felt the first time she’d made the roast for Piper and her parents.

It was how Piper felt when she’d introduced Roger to Yorkshire pudding.

And yet, this felt even more special, perhaps because of what Jared had done for her.

There’d been that panicky feeling when she’d realized her phone was gone, a sick sensation reaching right down to her core.

Then Jared had saved her.

They sat outside on the patio, watching barges and boats sail easily beneath the bridge.

It was amazing how comfortable she felt with Jared.

Even as they sat in silence, just taking in the sight as a massive naval ship floated down the Thames.

A blast of sound echoed across the water, then a shorter one.

On the bridge, the traffic lights changed and barriers came down before the spires on each side of the bridge.

They watched as the two leaves of the bridge rose.

She cried out giddily, “Oh my God, look at that, we get to see the bridge going up.”

It was a sight to behold. When the bridge was open, the ship steamed through, sailors lining each side of the boat, wearing what looked like dress uniforms, and saluting as they passed. “I wonder if there’s some sort of naval base nearby.”

“It’s probably going to the HMS Belfast, which is moored just past the bridge. The Belfast is actually a floating museum.”

She twisted to stare at him. “How on earth did you know that?”

He just shrugged, his lips slightly curved. “Useless bits of information we keep inside our brains.” He tapped his temple.

“I certainly don’t have that kind of information lurking anywhere in my head.”

When the ship was through, the bridge folded down between the two towers, and all the tourists and vehicles flowed across once more.

“I wonder how often they open the bridge like that?” she mused.

Again, Jared shrugged. “At least a couple of times a day.”

She looked at him again. “More bits of information floating around?”

“I’m an engineer. I like to look up facts like that when I’m visiting a new place.”

“I’m glad we got to see it.” She’d certainly taken enough pictures of it. She’d go through her photos later and pick out the best.

The day was waning, but she was slow to let him go. “Would you like to take a stroll around the Tower of London? I’ve got tour tickets for tomorrow—” The Tower in the morning, Greenwich in the afternoon. “—but it might be fun to see what it’s like from the outside.”

She hadn’t known she was holding her breath until he said, “Sure,” and she felt it sigh out of her.

Being late in the day, the sidewalks were much less crowded. Up on the high street, the tower walls were lower, and they could see down into the moat. Rather than filled with water, the moat had been turned into a garden, with pathways and benches.

“The flowers are beautiful, and the landscaping is lovely.” She filled her phone with more photos.

A few people strolled along the paths of the manicured garden.

Though other parts were abundant with wildflowers, red, yellow, and orange poppies, white daisies, purple flowers she didn’t know the name of.

“Isn’t this where they had all the red poppies to commemorate those who died in the First World War? ”

“They were ceramic poppies, almost 900,000 of them, one for each soldier who died in the war.”

“I saw pictures. It was amazing.” They stood for a moment, thinking of the magnitude, both of the lives lost and the effort put into commemorating them.

“Will you visit the Tower while you’re here?” she asked.

Jared nodded. “I came in a few days early so I could do some sightseeing.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if he wanted to come with her tomorrow.

After all, she had the extra ticket that should have been Roger’s.

But that would be too forward. Not that she minded being forward, but she didn’t want to put him in the position of having to say yes when he really wanted to say no.

Or even worse, giving her a flat-out rejection.

At fifty-five years old, she was used to rejection, but she didn’t want it from him.

“The gift shop is probably still open,” she said. “Do you want to look?”

They strolled around the Tower’s perimeter, taking pictures of the animal sculptures near the entrance.

Though the tours were closed for the day, the gift shop was packed.

They found teacups commemorating King Charles’s coronation, some for Queen Elizabeth’s Platinum Jubilee, marking her seventieth reigning year. She was still a popular British figure.

They trailed through tables of piggy banks made in the shapes of everything from double-decker buses and British bobbies to red telephone boxes and the King’s guard with their tall bear caps.

Everything Americans thought symbolized the British.

T-shirts, sweatshirts, jackets, sweatpants, and sun hats filled a corner of the gift shop, all emblazoned with London or the Tower of London or the Union Jack flag.

Another corner abounded with toys, stuffed animals, puzzles, and Lego sets of the Tower of London.

And, of course, shelves and shelves of mugs.

“There’s only just so many mugs a person can have,” she mused.

“You could always get rid of one,” Jared suggested, “and replace it with a London mug.”

She frowned at him. “Then I’d have to get rid of something I love.”

“How many mugs do you have?”

“Too many,” she said on a moan, not wanting to admit she had over forty. Who needed forty mugs when they lived alone?

He picked up a ball cap off a nearby stand, London printed over a Union Jack. “My son will love this. He always wants something from wherever I go, and he loves ball caps.”

His thoughtfulness warmed her. “What will you get your daughter?”

“I’m not sure I’ll find it here.”

“What does she like? I’ll help you look.”

“She likes tiles. Or coasters. She has a mosaic wall where she puts all the tiles I get.”

“That’s pretty cool.” She started the search.

“We’ve been collecting them since she was a kid.”

Piper stopped, turning to look at him. “Her mosaic must be huge. She’s glued them all to the wall in her room?”

He shook his head in what might have been disgust but was more likely fondness.

“We let her put them all over the wall. They aren’t grouted in, just glued.

If my ex-wife ever sells the house, I’m sure the realtor will insist they all come down.

But Scarlett has a story for each one. Even if it’s something I brought home.

I like to make up a story about wherever I’ve visited. ”

She couldn’t say why it amazed her. Maybe because his tale showed how much he loved his kids and was always thinking about them. “What story will you tell Scarlett about the tile from the Tower of London?” she asked, eager to hear what he’d say.

His smile stretched wide. “I’ll tell her how I played the white knight and rescued a damsel in distress who’d lost her phone. Scarlett will totally get it.”

She guffawed, drawing the look of a mother pushing a stroller. But she loved that he made the story all about her. “Then I definitely have to help you find a tile for your daughter.”

She hadn’t seen any yet, but then she hadn’t been looking for coasters or tiles. “You go that way—” She pointed. “And I’ll go this way.” She backed up. “We’ll meet in the middle and see who finds something first.”

She cheated and went to the front desk, asking the clerk, who waved a hand to a far corner. “Over there.” Then he rushed back to the next customer in line before too much grumbling ensued.

The large tiles were more like trivets, with a picture of the Tower of London glazed into the surface. She didn’t hear Jared approach, not with all the noise in the gift shop, but she smelled his slightly spicy aftershave and felt the heat of his body next to hers.

She held up the tile. “Will this work?”

“It’s perfect. I’ve gotten trivets before.” He put his hand up, his arm hovering for a moment across her back as if he wanted to put his arm around her. Instead, he dropped it, saying, “Thanks for finding it.”

She bit her lip. “I cheated and asked where they were.”

He grinned in return. “I’m just like a man, never asking for directions.”

They laughed together, their heads dipping closer, his breath brushing her cheek. Oh yes, this man was dangerous. But then, she liked a bit of danger.

They made their way back to the hotel with his purchases. She hadn’t gotten a mug, but then she didn’t need another souvenir. But she liked what Scarlett was doing with her wall.

“Would you mind if I copied your daughter’s idea for the tiles? I could put them on a step in my garden and eventually grout them in when I have enough.”

He hip-bumped her. It might have been intentional, or it might have been an accident as they walked. But she enjoyed the camaraderie.

“Now there’s the story I can tell Scarlett,” he said. “That her tile wall inspired a woman I met to make a tile step in her garden. She’ll love being an inspiration.”

They crossed the road, heading back down the side street that led to the hotel, and Piper cried out, “There’s the Tesco. I saw it earlier and forgot all about it when I lost my phone. I need to get my champagne.”

“I’m sure you can get a glass of champagne at the hotel.”

She wagged her finger in front of his nose. “Oh no. I packed plastic champagne flutes, plus bitters and sugar cubes.”

“Why didn’t you bring your own champagne?”

She rolled her eyes, then looked both directions on the street, because she couldn’t remember for a moment which way the cars would come from.

As she crossed, Jared a few steps behind, she said over her shoulder, “That would be far too much champagne to pack in my bags. And the bottles might break.” On the opposite side, she walked backwards for a few seconds.

“And I’m an accountant. I can’t bear to pay ten pounds for a glass of champagne when I can get a bottle for the same price. ”

She heard him laughing as she turned and didn’t care, sure he was laughing with her rather than at her.

The grocery store was fairly small, but it had several bottles of champagne.

She picked the cheapest. When he eyed her, she had to explain.

“With a champagne cocktail, the better the champagne is, the worse the cocktail tastes. Besides, it’s a waste of good champagne.

I swear it,” she said when he gave her a skeptical sideways look.

“Cheaper is actually better in this instance.”

Despite giving her the side-eye, he was smiling. “Whatever you say.”

Before getting in line to pay, she took Jared down the other aisles, popping a few more things into the basket. It was England, so naturally she couldn’t resist shortbread cookies and Licorice Allsorts.

Back on the street, Piper decided to be bold. “I had my bags packed when my friend canceled. So I have two champagne flutes. Would you like to join me?”

He didn’t immediately say anything. Her anticipation was so great, she thought she might turn blue before she’d be able to take another breath as she waited for his answer.