Page 41 of The Perfect Blend
I shrieked and shoved him off whilst he laughed and rolled away. I got up and immediately shoved my feet in the slippers, quickly throwing on the robe. He was made of sterner stuff than me, showing off his naked form in such conditions.
“Only fair you warm me up after I got out of the bed for you,” he said, snug as a bug wrapped up in the heavy duvet and quilts.
I stuck my tongue out, because I was mature like that, and said, “Maybe I might have been persuaded to do just that, if you had not stuck your freezing cold feet on me, that was just mean.” To which he, of course, continued laughing.
I turned to look out of the old single pane window. The view was slightly obscured, and when I reached out to touch the glass I discovered ice on the inside. Smiling to myself, I turned away to hustle across the hall and downstairs to use the bathroom.
Coming back a few minutes later I was very chilly, and was delighted to feel warm air when I reopened the bedroom door. A quick glance told me he had lit the bedroom fireplace and plugged in the little space heater that sat in the corner of the room, both doing their best to chase the cold away.
Zach was now sitting up, artfully leaning back against the headboard, hair tousled, looking at me hungrily. I slipped off the slippers and robe at the door and walked on over - the least I could do was bring the man breakfast in bed after how he had treated me last night.
Eventually we rose for actual breakfast, showering and getting dressed before heading to the kitchen. He lit the fire, I put on the kettle and we worked together to make a hearty full English. It would have felt like a let down to just have cereal after such a great night. It was so nice to move round the kitchen, with gentle touches on each other's backs and arms to gently manoeuvre the other out of our way or let them know we were behind them. A kiss on my neck while I was frying the eggs felt sublime. We plated up and ate, having a playful debate over ketchup versus brown sauce - how you could say that red sticky acid was better than the spice and vinegar of brown sauce, I don’t know.
“How come you even have brown sauce if you don’t rate it?” I asked.
“In case you were ever round for breakfast,” he replied, and I laughed and rolled my eyes.
We chatted some more, and I really wanted to linger, but the clock was ticking. I still had to pick Beanie up from Sharon’s and I had my coffee shop to manage, so as much as I wanted to stay, I really had to go. He was travelling back down south tonight to spend Christmas with his sister anyway, but would be back up before the New Year, so we made plans to see each other then. The snow lay deep and thick outside when I opened the door, and the decision was made that I’d leave my little car there to pick up another day and he could drive me home in his 4X4. He reversed around in the snow - why was it so sexy when men reversed with one arm slung over the passenger seat as they turned to look out of the rear window, whilst the other hand deftly controlled the steering wheel? And then we were off, ploughing through the snow like we were on an expedition. When we got to the main road we could tell it hadn’t been gritted, and I was doubly glad we’d gone in his 4X4. My little car did have winter tyres on, but I did not enjoy driving on ice.
A careful drive later and we were at my cafe. I got out of the car and he did too, walking to my door and waiting till I’d unlocked it.
“Well,” he said. “I really enjoyed last night and this morning. I almost feel bad for my sister, because whilst I’ll technically be having Christmas with her, my mind will be back here with you.”
I laughed and felt all warm and fuzzy inside. “Your poor sister, do try your best to stay focused. I can’t wait to see you after Christmas.”
He kissed me, arms wrapping around my waist, my hands against his chest, and I felt like I was on cloud nine.
“See you, then,” he said. “Merry Christmas, Robin.”
“Merry Christmas, Zach.”
I stood at the door and watched him drive away, a fragile but growing hope blooming in my chest.
Chapter Sixteen
Iran inside, changed my clothes and headed out to pick up Beanie. I knocked on the door and Sharon opened it. She took one look at my face and groaned.
“Oh, you didn't!” she said.
“Oh, I did.”
“Oh,noyou didnot.”
“Oh, yes I did.”
“This isn’t a bloody pantomime, Robin. I can’t believe that I can tell you till I’m blue in the face and you’ll still rush head first into a bad decision like it's a game!”
“Come on Sharon, I’ve had a wonderful night, can we just skip this please?” I said, my warm glow from this morning shrivelling slightly in the face of her self assured negativity.
She sighed and opened the door wider for me to step inside.
I gave her a quick squeeze as I went by in search of my dog and her devoted attendants. I found them upstairs in the girls room. Beanie was ensconced inside of a princess pop up play tent, tiara on, a trio of fairies doting on her.
“Oh lovely,” I said. “Is she the princess?”
The children said hello and James came over to give me a hug, green fairy wings slightly askew.
“She isn’t a princess,” he said earnestly, his serious, big brown eyes staring into mine. He was killing me with his cuteness. I frantically tried to take a mental picture of this moment before he was all grown up. “Beanie is the fairy queen. You can tell because she is all furry and only furry fairies can be fairy queens.” As a seven year old middle child with two sisters, James knew a lot about fairies, but that was a new one for me.
