Part 20 (1/2)

'Not the sweater, one of those necks with droopy excess skin.' I tug at my own.

'You're lying!' Sasha tries to peek in the mirror but I snap it closed.

'To be honest I could only see the table leg,' I confess. 'Shall we go in?'

'You first!'

I've never seen Sasha so jittery over a man so I do the decent thing and lead the way.

In the millisecond before he senses our presence we take in his unkempt mane, his tanned, scarred hands and lived-life face. It's too soon for me to say whether he's ruggedly s.e.xy or just needs a good wash and brush up; either way he's the kind of man who could withstand anything the elements might throw at him. And I'll bet you anything he has powerful thighs. Whatever that means.

Sasha emits a sound that other women will immediately recognize as code for gorgeous. I can't wait to hear what noise he makes when he sees her!

'Sasha?' he looks up at me expectantly, onyx-green eyes sparkling.

'No, I'm Lara, this is Sasha.' I give my beautiful friend a flourish. And for the first time in my life I see a man's face fall at the sight of her.

'You're ...' he tails off, then shakes his head and throws his cup into the sink. 'I'll be outside when you're ready to start working.'

Turning on a mud-caked heel, he stomps out the door.

'I guess he's not a morning person,' I gawp after him.

'Did you see the way he looked at me?' Sasha is crushed. 'It was like he despised me!'

She's right but why on earth would that be true?

'Nooo!' I say opening the fridge. 'He probably didn't want to make it too obvious that he fancied you so he, um ...'

'Ran away?'

'Exactly.' I put the milk and b.u.t.ter on the table. 'Toast?'

Sasha's over by the kitchen window watching Ty crash around the yard. 'He looks in a foul temper.'

'Maybe he's just hungover. Or worried that you're out of his league. You've had that before.'

'Does he strike you as the kind of person who would think like that?'

I open my mouth then close it. No would be the answer.

'Look, don't worry about it. I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation maybe he's like Oliver and freaks at the sight of long hair!'

She swiftly winds her skein of gold into a twist at the base of her neck.

'There we go sorted!' I throw her an orange.

As she goes to catch it, her hair comes tumbling back down.

Judging by Ty's mood, he won't be the type to tolerate slacking or phone-call breaks so I quickly dial Elliot while we're munching our way through our slices of sourdough.

He answers straight away but sounds groggy.

'Are you all right?' I ask, instantly fretting.

'I don't feel too bright. I think it's the fresh air. Everything smells like those pine air-fresheners. It reminds me of my dad's car and how carsick I used to get.'

I can't help but grin. There's no one quite like Elliot. It's so good to hear his voice.

'So, what's it like, Yo-semite?' I ask giving it the homeboy inflection.

'I'm sleeping in a tent. I have to keep my food in this padlocked metal dumpster so the bears can't get to it and last night I did a strange dance with a racc.o.o.n.'

'You danced with a racc.o.o.n?'

'Well it wasn't exactly the Pulp Fiction two fingers across the eyes move ...'

I laugh, imagining it all the same. 'What happened?'

'I'd got up in the night to get a can of c.o.ke from the vending machine outside the convenience store; it was pretty dark and I was wis.h.i.+ng I'd brought my torch when I sensed movement at the top of the stairs...'

'Da-da-daaa!'

Elliot describes how he looked up and found a racc.o.o.n stood up on his hind legs, staring back at him. He wasn't quite sure of the road rules who was supposed to back up? so he decided it should be him and took a step backwards. The racc.o.o.n moved his little foot forwards. He took another step, so did the racc.o.o.n.

'When we were both back on the tarmac we moved slowly round in a circle, never taking our eyes off each other!'

'That's amazing!' I chuckle. 'Are you two friends now?'

'No, he just ran off into the night, haven't seen him since he doesn't call, he doesn't write ...' Elliot gives his most pitiful sigh. 'It's just me, alone in the wilderness.'

'But it's beautiful there isn't it?'

'The trees are green. The rocks are big. What else is there to say?' Elliot mutters, clearly bored.

'What have they got planned for you?'

'They want me to do a bear walk.'

'You didn't get naked enough at La Jolla?' I tease.

'Not bare! B-E-A oh forget it.'

'No go on, tell me!' I prompt.

'It's just this thing for the visitors, a guide takes a group of visitors on this walk through the meadow and gives them a little chat about the local bears and their habits.'

Before I can comment, Elliot asks, 'When do you get here?'

'My flight's not until early evening tomorrow. I was thinking of stopping off to surprise Zo before I go to the airport.'