Rinsing his plate and Jess’s in the sink, he tidied up the takeaway containers before heading into the hallway. Hovering at the bedroom door, he remembered the awkward underwear encounter the previous night and decided it safest to knock first.
“Are you ready for me to come in?” That sounded ridiculous. He rubbed his forefinger and thumb across his eyebrows and opened the door a crack.
Jess groaned in annoyance. “Of course I am. Iwasasleep.”
“Sorry. I was just cleaning—”
“Shhh, sleeping,” Jess mumbled, rolling over and facing away from him. The room was dark, but the beam of light from the hallway illuminated her smooth bare shoulder, and the dip and rise of her body under the sheets. She was beautiful.
Nate quickly lowered his eyes and hunted in the closet for his pyjama bottoms. Finding them, he returned to the bathroom to get changed and ready for bed. He preferred to sleep in nothing but underwear, but thankfully he’d packed pyjamas in case he was sharing a hotel room. He hadn’t imagined sharing a bed with a gorgeous woman, though.
By the time he returned, Jess’s breathing had deepened into a soft snore. He switched off the hall light and, in the darkness, carefully built a wall of pillows down the middle of the bed, testing to make sure it was sturdy, then slipped between the sheets as silently as possible. He turned his back to the pillow wall and closed his eyes.
A soft wind blew outside and, as he’d now come to expect and appreciate, the quiet, enveloping blackness of the rural area dragged him into a deep, dreamless sleep.
10
THE NEXT MORNING,Jess was up and out the door just as the sun started to rise behind the cottage. Driven by a craving for a hot breakfast and decent coffee, but also a desire to avoid awkward morning conversation, she headed her car towards the Rangiora township in search of an open coffee shop.
In the light of morning, the decision to let Nate share a bed with her seemed far less sensible. Not that he was inappropriate in any way. He was completely the gentleman, stayed on his side without so much as a single pervy look in her direction, much to her surprise. But she didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. Jess had let her walls slip, and now she’d probably pay for it. Even more reason to get the accommodation sorted today. There’d be no repeat bed-sharing performance, that’s for sure.
Jess slowed as she entered High Street, lined with shops, some in beautiful old buildings with balconies and arched, moulded windows. She passed an SPCA shop with racks of secondhand clothes and assorted dinner sets in the window display. Outside a gift store a woman rearranged a rainbow of flowers in buckets. A handful of people milled about, store owners chatting out on the pavement, a mother pushing a pram. No-one in a hurry to be anywhere.
Every time she’d worked in Rangiora, she found herself catching the tranquil vacation feeling. She’d always enjoyed thisplace. This could be it; the place where she settled and found her new life. It felt so right.
Her usual cafe just off High Street was closed, so she parked the car near another busy one, assuming the locals must know something. A full place was usually a sign the food was good.
The upmarket exterior had black and gold lettering and two perfectly shaped topiary shrubs framing the door, but as she entered, she felt relieved she’d thrown on a casual outfit of jeans and a plain navy t-shirt this morning in her rush to leave the cottage. Most of the early morning patrons were dressed as if to spend the day on a farm or head to the gym, which, Jess mused, they probably were.
A group of mums in activewear gathered in a noisy huddle, babies bouncing on their knees. In another corner, three older men in scruffy check shirts mumbled at each other over large plates of beans and eggs, their feet in woolly socks—their abandoned footwear most likely the muddy gumboots she’d passed at the door.
She made her way to the front and browsed the cabinet food, a display of mouth-watering savoury treats and slices. A thick, chocolate fudge slice caught her eye.
“Morena,” the young waitress greeted her in Maori. “Do you know what you want, or would you like to see the menu?” She pointed to a stack of black and gold menus on the counter. “The breakfast special today is Eggs Benedict with Smoked Salmon and Caper Butter Hollandaise.”
Jess’s mouth instantly watering at the mention of smoked salmon, she placed the menu back without looking at the rest. “That sounds amazing. Perfect.”
“How do you like your eggs?”
“Runny, thank you. And a double shot flat white, too, thanks. No sugar. Can I also get the chocolate fudge slice in a takeaway bag?” Jess asked, thinking it a good idea to have a snack handy for later.
The waitress nodded, processed her payment, and handed her a number on a metal stand.
As Jess took a seat in one of the quieter corners, the door swung open and her vacation mood disappeared. She contemplated getting up and leaving, but a grumbling stomach and the thought of salmon with Eggs Benedict kept her rooted in place. Nate ordered at the counter, only seeing her as he turned around to look for a seat. Lowering her eyes, she fished her phone out of her purse to look busy, hoping he took the hint and ignored her. He didn’t.
“The cottage’s instant coffee didn’t appeal this morning?” he said.
Did she note a slight waver in his voice? A nervous actor. That would be a first. “No. Not particularly. I was craving something a little stronger,” she replied.
“This place has the best food. Some of the cast came down for dinner the other day, and it was very impressive. It could compete with any London cafe.”
“That’s high praise.” She reluctantly put her phone face down on the table. Looked like she’d have to engage after all.
Nate stood, clutching his number, and glanced at the chair opposite her awkwardly. “Mind if I join you?”
Seriously? She tried to stop her eyes rolling. This guy and his charm. He never dropped the act, did he? She entertained telling him to bugger off, that she came here to avoid him and was quite annoyed that he’d picked the same place, but she needed himfeeling cooperative later in the day when they were sorting out their accommodation.
She shrugged. “Go ahead.”
