Cosy Nights & Snowball Fights (Little Duck Pond Cafe #36)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

My heart was beating so fast, I felt breathless. And then, as if I was in some strange but beautiful dream, I was moving closer to him, turning my face up to his, my whole being suddenly desperate to know how it would feel if I touched his lips with mine... if he was to kiss me back...

The tension between us was growing. I could see the look of longing in those beautiful green eyes of his as he took a step towards me. The kettle reached boiling point and clicked off.

No!

I pulled away, darting a look at him. ‘The pasta.’ I laughed a little self-consciously.

He pushed a hand through his hair and cleared his throat. Then he smiled. ‘Of course. The pasta.’

My hand was trembling as I poured boiling water into the pan.

What had I been thinking?

It was a moment of madness, that was all. I certainly didn’t need a complication like this – not when I was still trying to come to terms with everything that had happened.

When I turned, Josh was over by the window, looking out across the snowy back garden. ‘The snow always makes me feel like a kid again.’ He turned, smiling, and I felt relieved that my pulling away didn’t seem to have caused any lasting awkwardness. ‘I thoroughly enjoyed our snowball fight.’

I laughed. ‘I might challenge you to another one out there!’ I nodded at the garden.

He chuckled. ‘Lucky for me the pasta’s nearly ready, then. You were a woman without mercy.’

We sat at the little bistro table to eat and I told him about snowy days when I was little.

‘Jackie loved the snow.’

‘Jackie?’

‘My biological mother. I was adopted when I was eleven.’

‘Right.’ He looked at me curiously. ‘So she couldn’t look after you?’

I shook my head, and to get off the subject of why, I smiled and said, ‘She used to love making snowmen – and women. She’d bring out a load of scarves and gloves and glasses – coats and old shoes as well – and we’d spend all day making these fabulous snow people, then we’d dress them up as if they were real and watch them later in the dark from the window to see if they’d come to life!’

The memory had come out of nowhere and I felt a little choked.

There had been good times. Maybe Jackie had tried her best. It was just never good enough because drink was her favourite thing, really. I could never compete with a bottle of whisky. And the trouble was, it didn’t snow very often. Days of making snow people were few and far between...

I swallowed hard and fixed on a smile. ‘More pasta?’

Josh touched his stomach regretfully. ‘Couldn’t eat another thing. That was delicious.’

‘I can’t offer you a drink, I’m afraid. But I treated myself to some salted caramel hot chocolate the other day, if you’d like to try some?’

Josh nodded. ‘Sounds great. Perfect for this snowy weather.’

‘I know.’ I got up and cleared the plates away, and put some milk on to boil. ‘I feel like a big kid as well when it snows.’ I looked out of the window wistfully. ‘It seems wrong to be inside when we could be out there making the most of it.’

He shrugged. ‘We could drink our hot chocolate out there?’

‘Yes?’ I turned, liking the idea.

‘Why not? You’re right. How often do we get snow like this?’

So we got wrapped up and took our hot drinks out into the garden. It was perfectly still. No breeze. Just a fabulous winter wonderland scene that stirred my romantic heart. Josh cleared snow off the wrought-iron garden furniture and I produced towels to drape over, and we sat there, sipping our hot chocolate and gazing up at the stars that studded the clear night sky. We blew ‘smoke’ in the chilled air, competing with each other, which made us both laugh.

At last, I shivered, and Josh suggested we move indoors if I was getting cold.

I sighed. ‘You know what? I’d like to stay out here as long as the snow lasts. I don’t really want to leave it.’

‘We could go for a snowy walk some time. If you like.’

I smiled across at him. ‘That sounds lovely.’

Slowly, we got up, collected the cups and towels, and wandered back indoors. Then we sat on the sofa in front of the log-burner, talking, while we waited for the landlady to arrive.

At one point, I heard a car and got up to check – but it wasn’t her. And when I sat back down on the sofa, I somehow misjudged my landing and ended up sitting a lot closer to Josh. I laughed and turned to him to say something, but I caught his eye and the words just went right out of my head. In the glow of the lamp, his eyes were glittering with such an intensity, I found I couldn’t pull my gaze away. Once more, I was being drawn to him by some invisible force that I felt powerless to resist. Josh shifted purposefully so that our lips were touching, and my heart seemed to explode with feeling, like one of the fountain fireworks I loved when I was little, that fired a myriad of sparkling stars up into the sky.

His mouth was achingly soft . . .

The doorbell rang. And I sprang away from him.

It was the landlady, and the atmosphere turned instantly from intensely romantic to necessarily practical.

After she’d gone (she couldn’t make it work, either), I drove Josh back to Radio Daydream so he could collect his car. When he got out of the passenger seat, he leaned back in, smiled and said, ‘Thanks for the pasta. And the hot chocolate. And the snowy garden. Sorry I couldn’t fix your heating.’

‘Doesn’t matter. Thank you so much for offering,’ I said briskly. ‘See you soon!’ And I turned away and put the car into gear so that he would take the hint and close the door.

‘Right. See you, Laurel.’ Slowly, he shut the passenger door.

I drove away, stirred up by a whole mix of emotions.

Our lips had touched. It wasn’t a kiss exactly. But I’d wanted it to be so much more. If the landlady hadn’t rung the bell...

I couldn’t see Josh any more. It was too dangerous, the way I was feeling. It made me want to run in the opposite direction, just as fast as I could...