Cal and Bea walked back to the cottage in silence. The rain had stopped, but the atmosphere was damp and gloomy, both meteorologically and metaphorically. For all of his happy exterior, Cal was struggling to work out where things had gone wrong. It was somewhere around Dorothy mistaking Bea for Elisabetta. But why would that bother her? She was superior to Elisabetta in every way. Plus, this was a short-term thing, so an unborn baby that may or may not be his wouldn’t be a problem. Would it?
Cal gave Bea a towel and told her that a hot cup of tea would be waiting after her shower. He also invited her to take a bath, to warm up fully, but Bea said that a shower would be fine. She was keen not to prolong her stay. That stung. Cal had so been looking forward to cooking her dinner this evening and talking while they ate. He couldn’t let her go back to Edinburgh – it wasn’t time yet – so he decided that when Bea came back downstairs, he would try to convince to stay for a meal. He’d drive her homeafterwards, but she needed to eat, and she may as well do so here.
While Bea was upstairs, Cal busied himself in the kitchen, tidying away the lunch things and sorting out what he needed to get for dinner. It was difficult focusing on the task. The sound of the water running upstairs made him think how much he would love to be in the shower, too. He’d kiss Bea on that luscious rosebud mouth of hers and tell her that it would all be fine and that whatever had upset her, she could talk to him and they could work it out. He’d tenderly stroke her back while the water cascaded from the shower, pull her close and hold her until she knew she was safe. Jeez! What were these strange feelings? Such a heady mix of sexual desire and tenderness.
When Bea appeared at the foot of the stairs, Cal swallowed so hard that his Adam’s apple must be bursting out of his throat like he’d swallowed his heart. She was dressed in nothing more glamourous than tight black leggings and a peach-coloured sweatshirt; her damp hair combed in a side parting and her face make-up free, but he couldn’t look away.
‘Feeling better?’ Cal placed a cup of tea on the coffee table.
‘Warmer, at least.’ Bea smoothed down her hair awkwardly before taking the tea.
‘I’ve put the fire on, so sit by it until your hair dries, otherwise, you’ll get cold again.’ He motioned to the two-seater by the hearth. ‘If I had a hairdryer, I’d offer you one.’
‘Thanks.’ Bea smiled, but it was a fraction of the wattage Cal had become accustomed to.
‘Listen,’ he said, sitting in the chair opposite her and resisting the impulse to lean over the coffee table and take her soft hands in his own. ‘Do you want to talkabout whatever’s upsetting you? If I’ve done something wrong, tell me and I’m sure we can make it right.’
Bea bit a corner of her lip and shook her head gently.
‘I don’t need to talk about it. You haven’t done anything.’ She lifted her tea and her face was obscured by the cup as she sipped.
Cal was unconvinced by Bea’s insistence that all was fine, but what could he do if she wouldn’t divulge her worries? He didn’t want to push it. Best to put her at ease and maybe then she’d feel comfortable enough to open up.
‘If you still want to head back to Edinburgh, I can take you,’ he said. ‘Although, I think you should stay for dinner first?
‘I don’t know.’ For the first time since he’d met her, Cal could see reluctance flickering in Bea’s eyes.’ I think I’ve outstayed my welcome.’
‘Are you serious? You’ve under-stayed your welcome as far as I’m concerned.’
A modicum of darkness lifted from Bea’s features and Cal was encouraged.
‘There’s no pressure to stay for dinner,’ he continued. ‘But you’ve got to eat, and I’ve got a bunch of stuff in and I’m cooking anyway. It’ll save you having to do it when you get back to your flat. What do you think?’
Bea regarded Cal so intently it was like she was reading his thoughts. And she was taking her time, as if reading the entire chapter of a book. The uncertainty was killing him. He desperately wanted her to stay; her presence in his cottage made it a warm comforting home, even at the times when the fire grate was bare.
Eventually she spoke. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I’ll stay for a bite to eat. Thank you.’
‘You’re most welcome.’ The tension in Cal’s chestreleased. He would cook Bea a spectacular dinner and showcase the best that Scotland had to offer in terms of food. Hopefully that would go some way to cheering her up.
Bea sat by the fire and drank her tea while Cal sorted dinner. He glanced at her from time to time. At first, she was staring into the flames but then she chose a book from his shelf and was reading and occasionally chuckling to herself. Eventually, when he decided the mood might be a little brighter, he threw a dishcloth over his shoulder and attempted some humour from the edge of the kitchen.
‘Since you enjoyed your good old Scottish fish and chips, tonight I’m going to continue the theme and cook you some haggis.’
‘You are?’ Bea laid her book on her lap, clearly interested. There was sun peeking through her clouds now, a welcome return of the old spark.
Cal shrugged. ‘I’m kidding. Haggis isn’t the way to a lady’s heart.’ Was that a stupid thing to say? Haggis wasn’t romantic but he wasn’t trying to win her heart. She nearly had his, but he was loathe to intimidate her. Nevertheless, he continued ‘But if you find heated sheep’s guts endearing, I can nip out to the butcher’s and get some.’
To Cal’s relief, Bea laughed.
‘Maybe I’ll have something else from the menu,’ she remarked with a glimmer in her eye. Thankfully, she hadn’t stopped to dwell on the heart comment and seemed to be returning to the old sparky Bea.
‘There will be plenty of local delights to choose from. I want to show you the best of Scotland.’ Cal held Bea’s gaze, hoping to see warmth returning there.
But Bea looked down at her lap and mumbled, ‘Oh, you’ve done more than enough already,’ leading him to wonder if he was gettingthe brush off again.
Cal couldn’t have been more different from Josh. Even in their early days of dating, Josh had never been as enthusiastic as Cal was about pleasing her. He’d never placed a bowl of anything down in front of her with the kind of zeal that Cal did as he served her up her starter, even announcing what it was as if she were a guest in his restaurant.
‘Kilbrannan scallops with capers and a peanut and pistachio puree, Madam,’ he said. He was trying to make up for earlier, despite not knowing what he was making up for. Bea’s heart swelled at the effort he’d made. She had intended to go back to Edinburgh, but the suggestions Cal made – have a shower, sit by the fire, stay for dinner – were so enticing and comforting that she found it harder and harder to keep her resolve. She wanted to stay with him in the comfort of his cottage, know again the cleansing warmth of his shower, the heat by his fire, the nourishment of his cooking, and the protection of his arms. Oh, she longed to be in his arms. She knew she should go back to town. Staying would lead to more hurt, but as the initial blow of Dorothy’s words wore off and Cal’s charm seeped in again, Bea found herself less desperate to leave. She could try to forget about the baby and the associated insecurities for now.
