She wrinkled her nose. “I think it sounds more like something that grows on a wound than anything relating to twilight.”
I threw my head back, laughing as I held open the door for her. “This is why you’re a writer.”
Sarah threw me a wide grin over her shoulder as she walked out of the restaurant, and I ignored a sharp twinge in my chest at the sight of it and followed her. In a desperate attempt to feel anything but that, I lobbed unusual words to test her and chuckled at her smug success with every one of them.
Nine
SARAH
“Iput the fire on!” Theo shouted from the living room.
The coastal winter chill cut through my knitted cardigan. I grabbed the mugs of hot tea, delighting in the rush of heat up my arms, and hurried from the kitchen into the living room. My thick socks had slipped and were getting dangerously close to tripping me up.
Thankfully, Theo crossed the room to take the mugs, and I smiled at the sight of the flickering flames in the wall inset as I bent down to pull up my socks. “It’s my first time using the fire.”
The bungalow had a gas fireplace mounted inside the wall that was far more modern than the rest of the surroundings.
“It’s bloody hyperborean,” Theo muttered, sniffing the tea.
I smiled. He couldn’t just say it was cold.
He held out one of the mugs to me, and I assumed it was my chamomile. Theo liked peppermint.
I tried not to stare at him as he sipped, his gaze drawn toward the large picture window. It was now November and another two weeks had passed. Theo had been here for three weeks in total. It strangely didn’t feel that long, while at the same time, it felt like he’d been here forever.
We’d fallen into a comfortable routine that I never would’ve imagined in my wildest dreams. We both woke up roughly around the same early hour. We’d have a cup of coffee and something to eat and then take turns showering and readying for the day. If the weather permitted, we’d go for a companionable walk on the beach only to return to write. We’d break for lunch either at home or we’d venture out, and then we’d review the script.
In the evening, Theo would tease me about my lack of television while we watched a movie or TV show together on either one of our laptops.
It felt easy and natural, like we’d been doing this our whole lives.
Conversation didn’t stall, and we talked about nearly everything and nothing. The only thing we didn’t venture into was the past. Theo Cavendish had walls built around his heart that were at least a mile high and constructed of solid ice.
If that bothered me, I ignored it, just as I ignored my growing attraction to him. Before, I’d thought him handsome and I’d had a creative crush on him. Now, I didn’t know what I felt. I just knew it was more. Physically and emotionally.
But I wouldn’t spoil what felt like friendship for the sake of a one-sided infatuation.
Autumn had been mild for this far north. However, this morning we’d woken up to an early November winter. Our cars sat in my driveway, the windshields crusted in ice, and the floorboards were freezing beneath our bare feet. The bungalow had central heating, but I hadn’t switched it up high enough, so the house was taking a while to heat up. Thankfully, we had the fire in the living room.
I searched Theo’s profile, the strong, straight nose, the hard angle of his jaw, the slightly sharp cheekbones and the contrastof all that masculinity against the pout of his mouth. My belly fluttered and I dragged my eyes off him to follow his gaze.
The mountains across Gairloch Loch were snow-dusted, and the icy pale gray of the sky made the loch look like it had a layer of frost over the top. Puffy clouds reflected in the water. The naked trees were touched with frost, the roads and grass and plants too. Not quite as still as ice but glittery and magical. It was beautiful here. I’d never spent much time in Gairloch in winter, but I was never more grateful for the bungalow.
“I was up during the night working on another scene.” Theo wrenched his eyes from the stunning view. “Perhaps you could look at it before you start your chapter?”
Surprised he’d been working through the night, I wanted to ask him why but knew he’d probably just fob me off with a vague, dry answer.
“Sure.” I walked past him to the desk and settled in.
Theo followed, resting his mug of tea next to mine before he dragged his chair over to my desk. Our legs and shoulders brushed as he sat, and a prickle of awareness shivered down my neck.
I must have made some kind of movement because Theo frowned. He was so close I could see the silver striations in his pale gray-blue eyes. His aftershave tickled my senses with its spicy, woodsy masculine scent. “Are you still cold?”
Clasping my mug in my hands, I nodded without looking at him, fighting back the pink that wanted to bloom on my cheeks.Think of cold soup, period cramps, of Harry Renfrew whose tongue felt like an out-of-control slug in your mouth.I sipped at my tea, the thoughts doing the trick.
“The fire should warm up the room soon,” Theo murmured, seeming to shift unconsciously closer to me as he opened his laptop.
So far, our work on the script had gone more seamlessly than I could have hoped. Theo was a bit of a control freak when it came to his writing, but he’d proven a willing listener if I had a difference of opinion. That didn’t mean he didn’t wield sarcasm like a blade, but I was used to him now and didn’t take his personality personally. In fact, I got the impression he quite liked it when I jabbed back.
