Killian wasn't sure how long they spent on the cliff ledge, just enjoying the scenery and each other's company. They didn't speak much while they were there, each losing themselves in their own thoughts and projects as inspiration finally struck, but he found his time with Emma much more productive than he'd first imagined it to be. Her gentle humming and the occasional tap of her pencil against her notepad were soothing instead of irritating. He discovered that it was quite nice knowing someone else was going through the same creative struggles he was, even if she hadn't been entirely open about what it was she was scratching down on the page.
Emma didn't seem to feel the urge to fill their silences with inane conversation, and she wasn't as inquisitive as his friends and family always were. Instead of asking, "How's it coming?" or, "What are you working on?" she would simply offer him a small smile whenever she lifted her head and caught his eye. One that said she understood his pain. She would then move her gaze over to the mountains and start humming softly to herself again.
Perhaps the most annoying part of his morning was that damned song that seemed to vibrate on the air around them. Whatever it was, Killian had never heard it before, and every time he asked Emma for more details about it, she would dodge his question in some way, giving him a smartass remark about how she didn't know what it was called. The tune she hummed was soft and beautiful, but the fact that he didn't have a name for it was driving him mad. He'd briefly considered recording her so that he could try and find a way to Google the song when he was back at his rented home, but that felt a little too creepy given how little he knew of her. So instead, Killian swallowed back his frustration and resolved to find a way to get the title from his new friend before he left the country.
After finally jotting down the last of the notes to round out the timeline for the next chapter of his memoirs, Killian lifted his head to find Emma stretched out across the ground just a few feet away from him, watching the clouds move across the sky.
"Are you finished?" he asked, slipping his notepad and pen back into his bag to pull out a small bottle of water instead.
"Yep. Finally worked past the bridge that I was struggling with."
"Bridge?" he questioned. "Are you writing poetry?"
"I guess you could call it that," she mused, keeping her eyes focused on the sky.
Killian allowed a long moment of silence to settle between them, hoping that he'd get some more answers from her, but instead, all that came was another question.
"Did you finish plotting out your memoirs?"
"Mem… memoirs?" he spluttered out, "Ho… how did you know I was working on my memoirs?" He racked his mind to try and recall all of their previous conversations, but Killian couldn't ever remember talking about what he was writing when Emma was around.
"You mumble while you work," she chuckled, finally turning her head to face him. "Has nobody ever told you that before?"
"Uh… no. I um… I don't tend to write with other people around me," he explained. "At least, not people I know. They're usually more of a distraction than anything else."
"I get that," she told him, and Killian could tell that she really did – but she didn't elaborate on her point any further.
He turned his head away from the mysterious woman at his side and continued scanning the scenery around them. It seemed to have changed in the time since they'd arrived. As the sun rose higher in the sky, different cracks and caves in the mountains were illuminated, showing spaces that had previously been hidden in the darkness. Killian pulled his camera out of his bag and took a few more shots of the horizon, hoping that at least one of them would turn out to be good enough for his office walls before he tucked it away once more.
"So, uh… how long were you planning to spend here today?" he asked, as he finally slipped his phone out of his pocket to check the time. It had been almost five hours since Emma had made her presence known back at the café, and yet, it had felt like barely one had passed since he'd stumbled out of that forest.
Emma rolled her head around on her shoulders and squinted her eyes open to stare up at him. It was the kind of stare that made him feel as though she was seeing right down to his bones. The kind of stare that made him fidget with unease.
"I guess we should probably start heading back down now," she said, after what felt like an eternity. "It must be closing in on lunchtime."
"We could always grab something to eat at the café," he suggested.
Emma gave him another long, searching look before she pushed herself gracefully up to her feet and then reached back to brush off the dirt and leaves that had clung to the denim shorts she was wearing.
The harsh sound of a throat being cleared made Killian jump in place as he wrenched his eyes away from her toned backside and up to meet her knowing gaze.
"Sorry," he mumbled, staring down at the leaves scattered around his feet. He knew his cheeks must be flaming bright red. He'd just been caught staring at a woman's ass, and he barely even knew her. "I uh… I guess I'm hungrier than I thought."
"Yeah," she drawled, "I guess you are." She waited for him to raise his head and meet her eyes; waited for him to see the humor dancing behind them before she spoke again. "I was saying that I have something I need to do when we get back down to the village, so I can't make lunch, I'm afraid. And then I suggested that maybe we could do dinner instead, but apparently, my arse was too distracting to get an answer from you."
"I'm so sorry," he said again, "I honestly don't know what came over me. I don't normally stare at random women's asses when they turn their backs on me."
"So, I'm just a random woman, am I?" she challenged, fitting her hands to her hips.
"No! God, no!" he rushed out, "I didn't mean –"
But he was abruptly cut off by a sharp bark of laughter, and Killian found his shoulders relaxing at the sound of it.
"You are far too easy to mess with," she chuckled, bending down to pick up her bag and loop it around her shoulders. She may have also added a little wiggle of her backside as she did, but Killian turned away from it as soon as he noticed. That way, he wouldn't get caught staring at her again.
"So, dinner?" she asked, nodding her head at the little trail to get them moving once more. "I can even dress my arse in something cute if you'd like?"
Killian was grateful that the darkness of the forest covered his blush because he was sure that it would only have caused Emma to laugh harder. "Am I ever gonna live this down?" he asked instead.
"Not any time soon," she promised before taking the lead to guide them both back down the mountain.
Killian made sure to stick close behind her as they walked. The ground wasn't exactly treacherous, but it wasn't an easy hike either. The last thing he wanted was for Emma to fall and hurt herself, so he kept within touching distance for most of their descent.
For her part, Emma remained almost silent during the journey back down the mountain. Occasionally, she would begin humming that tune to herself, a tune that was becoming more and more familiar to Killian with every passing minute, but neither of them felt the need to talk. It was nice. The silence was a soothing balm to the red-hot embarrassment Killian had felt only moments earlier, and he realized with a start that things with Emma were oddly easy. The last time he'd been that embarrassed was when his best friend of twenty-five years, August Booth, had accidentally revealed to his mother what kind of pornography Killian preferred. He couldn't ever remember feeling so comfortable around someone who had embarrassed him so thoroughly before. It had taken him months to venture back into a room with August and his mother after the porn incident, but with Emma, no matter how much that embarrassment stung, he knew the moment they said goodbye he would be itching to see her again.
"Still staring at my arse?" she called back over her shoulder as the road suddenly came into view ahead of them. She threw a cheeky wink his way before she turned back to watch where she was stepping, and Killian shook his head fondly.
"Well, it's a nice ass," he told her, hoping that she would interpret his statement for the joke he'd intended it to be.
Her sharp bark of laughter told him that she had.
"Next time we do this, you can take the lead so I can stare at yours for a while," she told him, and as a part of Killian flushed at the idea of her wanting to stare at his ass, another, much larger part, was busy rejoicing at the knowledge that she wanted to do this again.
"It's a deal," he promised, finally stumbling out onto the road to stand beside her, panting a little as he did. The elevation had clearly been steeper than he'd first thought, as he'd taken the last few feet at something that could only be described as an inelegant trot.
Emma held out a half-empty bottle of water in silent offering. Killian hesitated briefly before taking it from her with a soft thanks and downing it all in two large gulps. When he was finished, he crushed the bottle in his hand, screwed the cap back on, and then slipped it into his bag to recycle when he got back to his small home.
"So, um… dinner tonight?" he asked, just for something to say more than needing clarification of their plans.
"Dinner tonight," Emma agreed. "Say around… eight? That should give me plenty of time to get my work done, and then I can take a shower and meet you at the café."
"That sounds wonderful," he said, and he truly meant it. Killian wasn't entirely sure what it was about Emma that had drawn him in so hard and so fast, but he found that the prospect of spending time with her again was much more appealing to him than the idea of spending the afternoon without her.
"Okay, well, I'm heading this way," she said, hooking her thumb over her shoulder to point in the direction of the path that would eventually lead back to his house. "I can walk with you as far as my place."
"I'd like that." He offered her a wide smile and quickly fell into step beside her as they headed back down the cobbled road that had become so familiar to Killian over the past few days. He wanted to say something else to her before she parted with him for the afternoon, but everything that came to mind just felt stupid and irrelevant, and before he knew it, Emma was slowing her walk at the top of the road where his house was located.
"This is me," she said, gesturing to the road behind her.
"Where?" he asked, and when she raised a brow in shock, he quickly clarified, "Not because I'm trying to stalk you or something creepy like that. I just meant – I uh – I'm renting a place on this street too."
"Seriously?" she asked, with disbelief coloring her tone. "Huh! Well, I guess someone really wanted us to meet this week."
"Yeah, I uh… I guess they did," he agreed, as he brought a hand up to scratch nervously behind his ear.
Killian knew that most of the homes down the road were occupied by residents in the village. Many of the tourists that came to visit Peillon only tended to stay for a day before heading back to Nice. They preferred the lure of the beach over the serenity of the mountains, and of course, all of the restaurants and housekeeping services were an added bonus. He could sort of understand why Nice was more popular. Vacations were supposed to be relaxing. They were times to allow other people to clean up after you instead of doing the same thing you did every other day of the week. However, Killian had always preferred to live like a local whenever he was traveling for leisure purposes. There was something so peaceful about being able to blend in, something so inspiring about discovering places off the beaten track that was just too good to pass up on. And now… now, he thought he might know why.
"So, uh," he muttered, toeing at the ground with his boot, "I guess I'll see you at eight?"
"It's a date," Emma promised, stretching up on her toes to brush a quick kiss to his cheek before she turned on her heels and began striding away from him down the street.
Killian watched her go for a long moment. When he saw her turn up the small garden path to the house that was adjacent to his own, he suddenly found himself understanding everything his mother had once said to him about the sheer power of fate and destiny. Surely it could not have been a mere coincidence that Emma would have chosen to rent that house, in this very tiny French village, at the exact same time of the year that he'd picked for his vacation.
When the door to her home closed behind her, Killian gave his head a little shake to clear it of thoughts of Higher Powers before he finally began the gentle walk towards his own house. As he did, he found himself debating what he preferred more – the feel of Emma's kiss on his cheek or her promise of a date later that evening.
I'm gonna take a break next week from posting because I have a mammoth update for Anamchara to edit now I've finally broken through that wall, but I'll be back the week after with the next chapter.
Thanks for reading and reviewing.