“How about we start over dinner?” He presses his lips to my forehead. His hand strokes the fur on Mr. Snuggles’ head. “I remember when I won this for you at the seaside.”
A smile lifts my cheeks, thinking back to that day. “Mum said I couldn’t have any more goes on the claw machines.”
He chuckles. “Well, you had spent about twenty quid of your dad’s money trying to win it and probably another twenty of mine, but it was worth it to see your face when it came through the shoot.”
My cheeks heat. He’s unaware of what I’ve done to this teddy, and he certainly hasn’t seen my face light up when I come all over the head he’s stroking. I should really give Mr. Snuggles a wash.
He rises from the bed, his fingers gliding over the chipped dressing table with a faded and peeled teddy bear decoupage design. “Your desk’s seen better days, huh?”
I clutch my bear tighter, resting my chin on its head. “Yeah, I should redo the design.”
“Did you do this?”
“When I was about fifteen. I used napkins and PVA glue and then varnish to seal.” I used to love working in the garage with Dad.
“It’s fantastic. You have a talent.” His finger rubs against the flaking white paint. “Maybe we can fix it up together.”
“I’d like that.”
He scans the rest of the bedroom with a small curve of his lips. “You’ve been here five minutes and your room looks like a bomb went off.”
“I’m still unpacking.” Following his gaze to the bags and boxes on the floor and the clothes on my bed, it’s a little overwhelming.
“Right.” He bobs his head. “I’ll serve up. Finish getting dressed and I’ll see you down there.”
4
SAWYER
Irub the ache in my chest as I walk out of her room. All I wanted to do was pick her up, sit her on my knee, and tell her everything’s gonna be all right.
Her dad should be here to comfort her, but I know he’s had it hard these last few years. Angie was the love of his life and after the accident, he struggled to focus at work with our building and renovation partnership. Luckily, I could take up the slack.
Walking past the deer on the wall, I narrow my eyes and huff. “You could’ve warned me she was here.” I swear the damn thing smirks at me.
Ignoring the deer, I open the oven door and waft the steam out of my face. The garlic bread and aroma from the lasagna fills the room. I’d like to say it’s authentic cuisine, but this is just a ready meal from Tesco. Living alone, it seems pointless going all out cooking a gourmet meal, but now Angelica’s here, I’ll have to up my cooking skills.
Splitting the tray between the two of us and slicing the garlic bread, I place it onto the breakfast bar and sit at the stool in the kitchen with a fork.
Angelica descends the stairs and pads through the space in her flannel pyjamas, her brown and blonde locks practically dry now, hanging in waves over her shoulders.
She smiles as she climbs onto the stool opposite me and picks up a fork. “This is lovely. Thank you.”
“Thank you.”
She lifts her head, her eyebrows pinched. “What for?”
“For being here. This meal wouldn’t be half as good if I was eating alone.” I break off a piece of garlic bread and dip it into the lasagna. “So when did you get the Cruella de Vil look?”
She rolls her eyes. “Cruella is black and white. This is blonde and brunette.” Her fingers tangle in the waves as she runs them through to the ends of her hair. “Don’t you like it?”
I chew on my food while I study the split colour down the centre of her head. She’s always had an alternate style and artistic streak. It suits her. Nodding, I mumble with a mouthful of garlic bread, “It’s growing on me.”
She shuffles in her seat with a hint of a smile playing on her lips and forks some of the lasagna.
“Be careful with that. It’s hot. Make sure you blow on it.”
She giggles. “I’m not a child.”
