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‘Riiiiight.’ Rick laughed. ‘For a minute I thought you were trying to ask me on a date or something crazy like that.’

‘That really would be crazy. As if someone like you would ever date someone like me. Ridiculous.’ Angela shook her head.

‘What do you mean by that?’ Rick gave her the oddest look.

‘Well, I met Yvette, so I know what your type is. And believe me when I say I don’t think I could be any more different if I tried.’

‘Maybe true. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing.’ He watched her with an odd look on his face, which did something even odder to her stomach. For a moment, she couldn’t have looked away from his gaze even if she’d wanted to — not that she was sure she did. What on earth . . . ? Then, as quickly as the moment arrived, it was gone.

‘What about Mallow?’

‘She’s been doing a lot better at being left. And sooner or later you’re going to have to be more than a few hundred yards away. She seems happy enough here, and if she’s going to complain, maybe better here than in your flat.’

‘That’s true.’ He chuckled. ‘She’s already made herself known to my neighbours. I hadn’t realised how bad the soundproofing was until taking her home.’ He hesitated. ‘But what if she gets upset?’

‘We can set up some foraging toys for her to keep her busy, plus it’s not until this evening, when she should be settling down for the night.’

‘I can set the computer up as a monitor too, if you don’t mind me linking it to my phone.’

‘Not a problem.’ Angela was glad he was warming to the idea.

‘Are you sure me coming along is OK? Wouldn’t it be a bit weird, me inviting myself onto an established team?’

‘Well, for one, you’re not inviting yourself — I’m inviting you. And for two, the team is pretty flexible. It’s whoever is around on the night. You’ll be welcome. We’re meeting about half seven. I’ve got to stop by the doctor’s surgery after we’re done here. You could meet me at the pub?’

‘Yeah, I think I’d like that.’

It wasn’t until he’d said yes that she realised just how pleased she was he’d accepted the invitation.

* * *

Rick hesitated at the door to the pub, suddenly feeling nervous — which was weird, because he was famous for never “feeling the fear!” and jumping headlong into things without a thought. Weird. Beyond getting their likes and stars, he didn’t usually care what people thought about him. He’d learned early on in his career as an influencer, playing Maverick, that there were plenty of haters — people with strong opinions on what he did, who were waiting to troll and criticise him at every opportunity. So he’d just stopped listening or caring.

But when it came to Angela . . . he shook his head and tried to clear the thoughts he didn’t fully understand before heading inside. And it was awesome, like something off a film set, with all old beams, crackling fires in huge hearths, and big, heavy-looking tables that seemed like they’d been in use for longer than he’d been alive. Totally Insta worthy. But, even as he pulled out his phone and hit the quick-launch camera button, he hesitated, unsure whether he actually wanted to be Maverick. He felt totally out of place. He’d just turned to leave, already mentally writing an apology ping to Angela, when a familiar whistle pierced the cosy noise of the pub.

‘Rick, we’re over here.’ Angela waved to him from a table in the corner, and for a few moments the noise seemed to fade from around him. He couldn’t remember how to get his feet to work — he did a double take. Her hair, which was usually pinned or tied up with numerous scarves and clips, cascaded down her neck and shoulders in a cloud of soft curls, and she’d left her usual tie-dye fleeces at home and wore the most beautiful long jumper or dress thing he’d ever seen. It was fluffy and grey — a colour he’d usually reserve for the most sombre of suits and occasions, and even then under complaint — which faded from the softest pearly colour at her shoulders to almost black at her knees. Looking at it on her, he’d never liked grey so much.

Knowing Angela, he guessed it had probably come from a charity shop, or been given to her, but he couldn’t help thinking she wore it better than Yvette did some of her most expensive couture outfits. He immediately squashed the thought. He didn’t want to be thinking of his ex tonight, and Angela definitely deserved better than to be compared. Even if it was no competition. She was sweet, funny, kind and driven, and quite literally — as of that moment — stunning.

Oh shit . . . the thought ricocheted around his brain. Did he have a thing for Angela? That would not be a smart move.

‘What are you waiting for? You’ve already had an invitation — I’m not gold-plating one for you!’ He laughed as she stood and waved at him again. ‘Come on.’

He made it halfway across the bar before realising she wasn’t using her crutches, and that he couldn’t see them nearby. ‘Given your sticks the night off? Or have you been pulling a fast one this whole time?’ He couldn’t resist teasing her, even though he knew it was probably one of his dumbest ideas.

‘Yeah, I’m lazy really. Just wanted some strapping hunk to do all my heavy lifting for a while.’ Her eyes sparkled when she grinned at him. ‘But apparently he wasn’t available, so I got you instead.’

And she was teasing him back. This was dangerous territory. ‘Seriously though, if you’re off the crutches, do I get time off for good behaviour?’

‘Well, maybe if you can actually behave and stop teaching my fox to do tricks for your videos . . .’

Oops, he hadn’t realised she knew about that. He’d been careful to be discreet with his filming — not because he thought Angela would mind, but because he didn’t want to be seen as slacking off. She’d admitted to having seen some of his videos, but he’d not uploaded any of Ruby’s tricks for nearly a week. Maybe she really was following him online. He grinned at the thought.

‘Just for the record,’ a blonde woman with green eyes — so bright they had to be contacts — waved a finger at Angela, ‘you are not officially “off the crutches”. You are supposed to be slowly rehabilitating your leg with the walking brace.’ Now that it had been brought up, Rick let his eyes wander lower, and took in the brace that wrapped around Angela’s calf and knee, disappearing up her leg and beneath her dress.

The bright green eyes turned to him. ‘And you, mister, had better be sure she’s not overdoing things. Especially as it’s your fault she’s in this situation in the first place.’

Rick gulped hard, guilt flushing through him.