Here’s to a very happy Christmas, wherever you decide to spend it.
With love,
Rose
X
P.S. Seize every opportunity that comes within reach. They are often fleeting, so go with your gut.
‘Oh, Joe. I have the same postscript on my card.’ She turned her tear-laden eyes to face him and found he was welling up too.
‘Should we do as she says? Go with our gut?’
‘Depends on what it’s telling you.’ Lottie swallowed. Her pulse was picking up pace.
Joe leaned forward. ‘Mine’s telling me to do … this.’ He watched her closely as he placed a delicate kiss on her lips. He slowly retreated. ‘What’s yours telling you?’
Lottie reached up and pulled his soft lips back to hers. That was all the answer she hoped he needed.
Chapter Forty-One
New Year’s Day
Lottie was aware of a shaft of light on her eyelids. She blinked herself awake and stretched. She reached out an arm and, realising she was alone, she scooched herself up onto her elbows and looked around her bedroom. Thing was, it wasn’t entirely hers any more. Joe had pretty much moved in. They’d talked non-stop after the family had left, and a lot had healed between them. They’d drawn a line under the past and spent time mapping out their future – or, more accurately, the future of Henbourne Manor. Joe had money from his American ventures, so Lottie had sketched out plans of what they could do. Together they had planned how best to update the building whilst keeping its original features. One new addition was to be an artist’s studio for Lottie. She was going to do some website design, too, which would hopefully fund her passion for painting that was already returning.
The door slowly opened and in trotted Dave, who, on his third attempt, made it onto the bed, wagging his tail furiously in greeting.
‘You’re awake,’ said Joe, following Dave into the room and putting a cup of tea down on her bedside cabinet as he leaned in to kiss her. It was a slow, sultry kiss. ‘Happy New Year.’
‘Are you coming back to bed?’ They’d spent most of New Year’s Eve in there, with a short interlude for food, showers and a dog walk.
‘No, too busy.’
‘On New Year’s Day?’ She couldn’t hide her disappointment. Now they were back together, she wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.
‘I’ve got a shift at the village stores,’ he said, with a wink.
‘Blimey, you got stitched up there,’ she said, reaching for her cuppa.
‘I asked Shirley if it was opening today because we needed more fizz for later.’
‘Rookie mistake,’ said Lottie, shaking her head.
‘It’s okay. She thinks I’m wonderful because her cat’s arthritis is improving. Did you know Mittens was still alive?’
‘Yep. She feeds her sherry and peanut butter.’ Joe gave her a look that said he didn’t know if she was joking or not.
‘It feels like I’m settling back into the village already,’ he said, and the corners of his lips twitched.
She studied Joe. It still felt like a dream that he was back, and even more so that he was hers. She didn’t know what the future held, but she was damn sure she wasn’t going to waste a minute of it. ‘Come back to bed.’ She gave what she hoped was a sexy pout and not the look of a constipated duck.
He sat on the bed, took her tea off her and put it back on the cabinet. ‘Actually, I’ve got a few more minutesbefore I have to go.’ He climbed back into bed. ‘And a bit of feedback – that duck face you pull; it does it for me every time.’
Lottie wasn’t expecting to have everyone back at the manor house so soon, but she felt it was time to scatter Nana’s ashes. It had been delayed because, as usual, the family hadn’t been able to agree on what they should do with them. Up until now the manor hadn’t seemed like an option – Lottie couldn’t have left Nana behind, and the thought of bulldozers marauding over her was unbearable. But now she knew Joe was the new owner of the manor and saw it as his forever home it put a different spin on things. He’d even been the one to suggest that Rose’s ashes were scattered there. So that was how they found themselves all back at Henbourne Manor on a bright but cold New Year’s Day.
It was mid-morning and most of the Collins family were sitting around the kitchen table, eating the breakfast Lottie had prepared. Angie was insisting on calling her crushed avocado on toast ‘brunch’.
‘This is amazing, Lottie. Thank you,’ said Scott, tucking in to the same. ‘Is that a hint of fresh chilli?’
