Read Online Millie's Game Plan by Rosie Dean - Free Book Online Page A

hands were visibly trembling as I opened the folder. ‘Chilly, isn’t it?’ I said with an exaggerated shiver as the sun glinted on the photographic paper.
    I’d picked the best shots, included the groups and shuffled the ones of Victor somewhere into the middle. I passed them to Arabella, who shared them with him. They swapped comments, Arabella coohing appreciatively over the infants of my creativity.
    He handed them back to me. ‘They’re great. And your friend says you’re a beginner?’ He gave me a really twinkly smile – and a sigh whistled through my heart. As he came alongside I could feel his body heat as our orbits overlapped.
    ‘Yes. Wanted to do it for years. I’m really enjoying it.’ I still sounded like a twelve year old.
    ‘Seems you have a talent for it.’
    I pulled a smile.
    ‘So, what are you going to do with the pictures?’ he asked.
    ‘I’m working towards an exhibition.’
    He nodded appreciatively. ‘All the local teams would be thrilled to see themselves mounted and hanging in a gallery.’ I smothered an inappropriate giggle. ‘ Mounted as in framed ,’ he added, knowingly.
    ‘Could there be another way?’ I said, and we both laughed.
    I swear my body was drifting towards his – like two lilies on a pond.
    ‘So, Millie. Are you a fan of cricket or are we just specimens for your portfolio?’
    ‘Well…yes…it sounds brutal but you’re just specimens. I might do a study in village life…maybe contrast it with gritty, urban culture,’ I added recklessly. ‘You know, snap some OAPs picking up their pensions in Winchester…’
    He grinned. ‘Well, if it’s village life you want, it’s here in all its glory. Speaking of which, shall we go in and have some tea?’
    I was so thrilled, you’d think he’d proposed a real date. Still, the signs were promising. As we headed towards the pavilion, I asked, ‘Have you lived in Marshalhampton all your life?’
    ‘No. Just since January.’ He stood back to allow me through the door before him.
    ‘Do you like it?’
    He nodded slowly. ‘It has a certain charm.’ Then he gave me that knockout smile. ‘And the people are very friendly.’
    ‘We Hampshire folk are nothing if not friendly,’ I said, trotting out an old saying of Dad’s. It gave me a warm feeling to hear it – like I was somehow introducing them.
    He offered his hand to me. ‘My name’s Josh.’
    ‘Josh?’ I squeaked, converting my surprise by adding, ‘Hi,’ and shook hands for longer than was necessary. So, Victor had to be his surname.
    The display of food was fantastic; plates piled high with samosas and kebabs, sitting next to trays of scones laden with jam and cream. Across the room, Sacha was in confab with the guy who’d followed her in. She was doing a real Sacha number on him, standing inside his bubble, smiling and nodding with clear focus on his every word. Was I doing that? Maybe I should show Josh more attention.
    ‘So, how long have you been playing cricket? From what I saw last week, you’re the star of the team.’
    ‘Never really played it before I came here.’
    ‘How amazing.’ Was that the best I could do? I began fiddling with my hair – a dead give-away that I fancied him. I stuffed my hand into my jacket pocket.
    He shrugged. ‘Blessed with good hand-eye co-ordination, I guess.’ He was smiling in the most encouraging way. Lucky old me. Was it my imagination or had the temperature just shot up? With a jolt, I realised I was standing against the tea urn and stepped away, bringing me closer to Josh.
    ‘Careful,’ he said, touching my arm and igniting some other heat in me. The impulse to wrap myself round him was so palpable, I stuffed both hands into my pockets.
    ‘So, Josh, what kind of job relocated you to Marshalhampton, or do you work somewhere really exciting – like Andover?’
    He smiled. ‘I work in Marshalhampton and London.’
    ‘Doing what?’
    He inclined his head towards me and lowered his voice. I love