Not Just for Christmas

Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One

W ith Erin there, Lewis felt more at home in his cottage than ever before. Cooking together reminded him why he’d fallen in love with the cottage. The domestic scene was exactly what he’d imagined when he’d first viewed the place. It hadn’t occurred to him back then that he’d end up too busy working to appreciate his beautiful home.

When Erin muttered about going back to the hotel after dinner, he pointed out that she hadn’t seen the upstairs of the cottage. She didn’t need much convincing to stay the night after that.

Waking with her sprawled beside him brought an instant smile to his lips and even enticed him to doze for an hour, which wasn’t like him. Usually, he bounced out of bed as soon as he woke.

Leaving Erin fast asleep, he pulled on comfy clothes and went to fire up the coffee machine. Molly opened one eye when he passed her curled up in the hallway downstairs, but didn’t seem at all interested in getting up yet.

With a mug of steaming black coffee, he went to the lounge and settled himself on the couch before opening his laptop. He responded to a few emails and then glanced overhead when a floorboard groaned. The click of a door told him Erin was awake and in the bathroom. He set the laptop aside and rested his head back on the couch, basking in the warm glow of having met someone who he felt so comfortable around.

His forehead creased in a frown, and he contemplated all the moments the previous day when he’d opened his mouth to be completely honest with her and hadn’t found the words.

Despite feeling so comfortable around her, he was holding back.

He was hiding something huge and he knew he needed to find a way to share everything with her. Especially since she’d extended her stay so they could get to know each other better.

If it caused an issue between them, surely it was better to find out sooner rather than later.

Erin’s plans to get up and make coffee were thwarted when she rolled over to find Lewis’s side of the bed empty. The scent of coffee permeated the air as she padded down the stairs.

“Morning,” Lewis said, smiling at her from the couch. At least he didn’t look as though he’d been up too long. He was wearing jogging bottoms and a T-shirt, his hair giving off definite bedhead vibes.

“I wanted to get up before you,” she said, cuddling up beside him.

“Why?”

“So that you could relax and be lazy for once while I made breakfast.”

“I only made coffee, so breakfast is still a possibility.”

“Good. How do you feel about French toast?”

Wrapping his arms around her, he nodded. “Sounds perfect. Especially since I’m fairly sure I have all the ingredients so I won’t need to venture to the shop.”

“Great.” She kissed him lightly and marvelled at how natural it felt, as though it was something they’d been doing for years and not only a few days. When she peeled herself away from him, he scratched the bridge of his nose. “Why do you look so pensive?” she asked.

He shifted his fingers and rubbed at his forehead. “I was just thinking…”

“About something serious, by the look of it.” Curious, she sank back down onto the couch. “Are you okay?”

After pressing his palm into his eye, he broke into a slow smile. “I’m fine. It just occurred to me that I don’t know exactly what you need for French toast. I feel as though it’s one of those things that everyone has their own recipe for.”

“Bread, eggs and milk will suffice,” she said, amused. “Cinnamon would be great if you have some.”

“I reckon I have all of that.” He stood and pulled her up with him. “I’ll have a look. There’s a pot of coffee if you want some.”

“I’d love some.” She helped herself while Lewis rifled through the cupboards for breakfast ingredients. The hot coffee was wonderful but highlighted that it wasn’t warm enough for her to be wandering about in underwear and a T-shirt.

“I really love your kitchen,” she told Lewis as he deposited eggs and milk on the sideboard. “But I’m not convinced about the wisdom of the tiled floor. It’s freezing.”

“I know,” he agreed. “I tend to view it as cold therapy and assume it has similar effects as an ice bath. Certainly wakes me up in the mornings.”

“I wish I had my fluffy socks with me. My feet might turn to ice while I cook breakfast. Maybe I’ll put on a few pairs of your socks. ”

“There’s also a really lovely woollen pair,” he said blithely. “With a sheep pattern and everything.”

“Are you serious?”

“No.” He laughed. “Of course I’m not serious.”

“For a second there, I really thought you still had them.”

“I still have them,” he said. “I just wasn’t seriously thinking that you’d wear them.”

“You kept them?”

“Yeah. Which you’re making me feel weird about. It’s not something I put a lot of thought into. I just shoved them into the back of a cupboard.”

“Can I see them?”

He eyed her with gentle amusement. “It’s a pair of socks.”

“I know! I want to see them.”

“Okay.”

They wandered back up to his bedroom and Erin sat on the bed while Lewis rooted through the wardrobe.

“Here,” he said, flinging them at her.

“They’re nice, ” she said emphatically. The pattern was gorgeous and they were wonderfully thick while also luxuriously soft. Not the scratchy sheep’s wool she’d been expecting. “Is it weird if I wear them?”

“You want to wear my ex-girlfriend’s socks?”

“She didn’t accept the gift, did she? Technically they were never hers.”

He shrugged. “I don’t mind, if you don’t.”

She lifted her foot to put one on and then the other. “I love them,” she declared. “I’m going to be much cosier cooking breakfast now.” She went to pick up her jeans, but stopped when she realised Lewis had gone quiet.

From across the room, he gazed at her intently.

“Oh, no,” she said. “Am I really weird?” She looked down at her feet, now snug in the lovely socks. “Should I take them off?”

Slowly, he crossed the room and took her face in his hands. Then his lips melted against hers and he kissed her with an intensity that she felt all the way to her cosy toes.

“You’re not weird,” he said between kisses. “You’re perfect.”

He walked her backwards until the backs of her legs hit the bed. Then he kept going and they fell onto the bed amid a shriek of laughter.

“You don’t mind delaying breakfast, do you?” Lewis asked with a wicked glint in his eyes.

“Not at all. Just as long as you’re not going to make me take these socks off.”

“Okay, now you’re being weird,” he said playfully. “The socks are coming off.”

“Nope,” she declared, then shrieked again as he tickled her ribs.