Page 34 of A Recipe for Romance in Brambleton

Marc was about to respond, when the moment was interrupted by Noah on his way to the bar.

‘Hey, Lauren. I wondered where my brother had got to.’ He grinned down at them both.

Lauren felt the loss as Marc quickly slid his hand out from under hers and took a sip of his pint. ‘Yeah, I wanted to make sure I bought Lauren that drink I owe her for the cake.’

‘Well, take your time.’ Noah’s eyes gleamed mischievously. ‘Thea’s going strong on the classroom anecdotes from the nativity play, and Annabelle’s cross-questioning her about the Reception class teacher. I’m drowning them both out by focusing on Bella’s musical genius and trying not to notice Jason still making eyes at her every time they duet.’

‘She’s such a great singer,’ Lauren said, anxious for Noah not to continue down the route of teasing his brother. ‘It’s so lovely that she still sings in the local pub.’

‘She’s very fond of Paddy and Jen,’ Noah replied. Lauren saw his gaze flickering from herself to Marc again. ‘I’ll, er, see you later?’

Marc nodded. ‘See you in a bit.’

A quizzical expression crossed Noah’s features before he gave a final smile and headed to the bar. Marc’s eyes followed his brother but then snapped straight back to Lauren.

‘Sorry about that.’ He laughed, and it sounded nervous again. ‘Noah’s got rather… involved in my life since I moved back here. He likes to keep an eye on me.’

‘I get that,’ Lauren said softly. ‘You and the boys have been through a lot.’

‘True, but I don’t want to talk about that. At least not tonight.’ He shook his head. ‘Tonight, I just want to be Marc, with no baggage, sitting in front of Lauren, who I really like, having a pint and a laugh for an hour or so. Does that sound okay?’

Lauren jumped as Marc’s hand found hers on the table again. ‘That sounds more than okay,’ she said softly. This was one social signal she had no trouble interpreting.

30

In the end, Marc didn’t leave Lauren’s table and join his brother and friends; once he started talking to Lauren, he found the conversation flowed as easily as the honeyed notes of the cider they were both drinking. Mindful that he’d need to get back to his boys by ten o’clock, he switched after one pint of Carter’s Gold to the just as palatable Zero version of their cider, and by the time the hands on the pub clock were edging past nine forty-five, he felt a great reluctance to end the evening.

‘This has been lovely,’ he said as he finished his pint, ‘but I promised Thea that Cora would be back home at a reasonable hour, so I’d better make a move.’ He went to stand up, and as he did, his knees knocked against Lauren’s again. ‘Sorry,’ he murmured, his face growing warm.

Lauren stood, too. ‘I’ve really enjoyed talking to you.’ She fumbled with her bag, which she’d stashed under the table. ‘Would you, er, like to do it again, sometime?’

‘I’d like that a lot,’ Marc replied. He moved out of the way so that she could get past him without bashing into the table. As she did so, her body brushed up against him, and a sudden bolt of desire took him by surprise. It had been so long since he’d reacted that way to anyone. He tried to shrug it off. He mustn’t read too much into this, precisely because it had been so long.

‘Er, can I give you a lift home?’

Lauren laughed. ‘You can literally see my house from the pub!’

‘Oh yeah.’ Marc blushed. ‘Can I walk you home, then?’

‘I’d like that.’

They wandered out of the front door, waving goodbye to Noah’s group, and Paddy and Jen, who were still busy behind the bar, and the cold December air contrasted sharply with the warm atmosphere of the pub. Above them the stars that Lower Brambleton was so famous for shone pin-bright in the deep blue night sky. Marc glanced up at the cloudlessly vast expanse above them and let out a low whistle.

‘We certainly didn’t get night skies like this where we used to live. That’s another thing to be thankful for.’

‘It makes up for the dreariness of winter!’ Lauren replied. ‘Sometimes you can’t see the hills for the mist.’ Somerset was renowned for its ‘mizzle’, that odd combination of mist and rain that blanketed the landscape in the cooler months. It could make Lower Brambleton feel even more remote and cut off than it already did, when it descended. But tonight, the sky was clear, and the only mist was their breath as they walked from the pub back to Lauren’s place. Twinkling fairy lights in the shop windows gave the main street a festive glow, and as they drew closer to Lauren’s front door, Marc’s hand brushed hers. This time, there was a definite jolt.

‘Well, this is me,’ Lauren said, and Marc heard the nervous tremor in her voice. ‘Thank you for walking me home.’

‘My pleasure.’ God, it had been so long since he’d done anything like this. The hand that had brushed Lauren’s started to shake. ‘See you again soon?’

‘I’d like that.’ Lauren turned away from him and fumbled in her bag for the key. With a tumbling clink, it fell from her grasp and hit the stone step outside the front door.

‘Bugger,’ Marc heard her mutter.

‘Let me,’ he said quickly, ducking down to pick it up. Unfortunately, just as he did so, Lauren, who was quicker, straightened up, catching his right eye with the top of her head.

‘Oh shit!’ she exclaimed. ‘I’m so sorry! Are you all right?’