Bonjour Cherie Read Free Page B

it.’ I shook my head, smiling. ‘Aussie humour.’
    â€˜Yeah, it’s like why we might call a big guy Tiny, or a redhead Bluey.’
    â€˜Clever.’
    â€˜I thought so.’
    We drove along in almost amicable silence for a while. Then Zach said, ‘So, Beth, what’s your interest in French, other than Mr André?’
    My back stiffened. I was quickly in the Antarctic zone again. ‘I happen to have an interest in French culture, nothing to do with the instructor.’
    He chuckled and then said, ‘Okay.’
    How did he do it? How did he make me so angry with so few words? ‘I’m going to France,’ I shot back at him.
    â€˜When?’
    â€˜When I have enough saved. Not that it’s any of your business.’
    â€˜None at all. Just asking.’
    I sensed rather than saw (no way was I looking at him) his grin in the darkness.
    What was I thinking to even imagine I could be one-tenth attracted to the Neanderthal beside me? With relief, I realised we had pulled into the parking lot where my small car stood in lonely isolation.
    Zach was out and had the bonnet of both vehicles up and the leads attached almost before I had time to get myself behind the wheel of my car. Perhaps he was just as anxious to get rid of me as I was him.
    â€˜Start her up,’ he said. My little car spluttered into life. I almost kissed the steering wheel.
    After he’d detached the leads and put the bonnets down on both vehicles, he came over to me. I rolled the window down reluctantly.
    â€˜Do you want me to follow you back to make sure everything is okay?’ he asked.
    Hell, no. ‘I’ll be fine. Thanks for your help,’ I said, remembering my manners.
    â€˜No worries.’ He bent down closer, no mean feat for a guy over six foot and a car as low off the ground as mine. Then, his lips, warm and firm, brushed mine.
    Before I had time to protest, he said, ‘See you in French class, chérie .’ And with a wink, he returned to his ute.

Chapter Three
    â€˜ Monsieur LeBlanc … André, how lovely to see you.’ I beamed at him from the register as if he were a long lost friend I hadn’t seen in years, instead of four days ago. I pushed through his items – seedless green grapes (the expensive ones), brie cheese (of course) and rice crackers (99.9% fat free). I imagined myself sharing this with him over a bottle of mature red.
    â€˜How are you, Beth?’ He remembered to use my first name. At last we were getting somewhere.
    â€˜Oh, just fine. I checked on those websites you gave me and I’ve been practicing away,’ I babbled.
    â€˜Good, good.’ He stood there waiting patiently. What for? Perhaps he wanted to ask me out for a drink, but was too shy to ask. I had nothing planned tonight. I could easily go. I mentally scanned the items in my closet, wondering what I should wear.
    â€˜Beth?’ He spoke hesitatingly.
    â€˜Yes,’ I answered, trying to look encouraging.
    â€˜How much do I owe?’
    Flustered, I looked at the cash register. ‘$12.65 please.’
    He gave me a twenty and I handed him the change. Our fingers almost touched. ‘Well, see you in French class,’ I said lamely.
    He gave me a warm smile and nodded, then disappeared out the door with his plastic bag, obviously meant to be shared with someone else. I sighed and turned to the next customer. Zach. Of course.
    â€˜Hi,’ I said, dropping my usual ‘How are you today?’ greeting to customers. I scanned his items—two tins of dog food (on special), a T-bone steak (of course) and a can of Coke (not diet). No doubt who he’d be sharing his dinner with tonight, I thought, the mental image of Dave popping into my head. I almost smiled.
    â€˜How’s the car running?’ he asked.
    â€˜Fine. That’s $14.50 please.’
    He handed me a twenty. I gave him the change and this time our fingers definitely