Page 60 of A Recipe for Romance in Brambleton

‘Has anyone ever told you that you’re incorrigible?’ Torn between admiration and exasperation, Lauren was amused when she heard Gary calling out ‘frequently’ in the background.

‘Take what you want, but don’t wear your bloody jeans! I’ve barely seen your pins for a decade, and they’re worth showing off tonight.’

‘All right, all right.’ Lauren muttered. Even from the middle of a river, her mother was a formidable force. ‘Thanks, Mum,’ she added grudgingly.

‘Have a good time.’ Myriam’s expression grew serious again. ‘I mean it, Lauren. You’ve spent too much of your life worrying about me, and more recently, making the café a success. Enjoy it – and enjoy spending time with him – and I’ll catch up with you when you’re ready.’

‘I will.’ Lauren smiled. ‘And you enjoy the rest of the cruise.’

‘I can’t believe we’ll be back in a couple of days. It’s sailed past.’

‘Nice one, Mum.’

They said goodbye, and Lauren followed Myriam’s instructions. Inside her mother’s wardrobe, she found a rather gorgeous dress in rose pink, her own favourite colour. While not something she’d have chosen for herself, she had to admit, when she tried it on, it looked great on her. And would certainly make more of an impact than her jeans.

Time was marching on, and so she put the finishing touches on her make-up and then headed back downstairs to make sure everything was switched off. She didn’t like to leave the house with anything left on, and checking the plug sockets, flipping switches and turning off lights always made her feel more in control. Going into the relative unknown, an actual date with Marc, alone, in his home, it would be so easy to allow herself to spiral into uncertainty. She was determined not to do that, though. This was just dinner.

It might not just be dinner. They were two consenting adults… it could end up being more. Oh God. There was all that careful control out of the window. What if it was more? Was she ready for that? It had only been a few days since they’d bumped heads on Christmas Eve! She stopped fiddling with the kitchen switches and took a deep breath. If they chose to get more intimate, that was fine. In her mind’s eye, she saw Myriam’s expression and it was encouraging her to put herself out there. And she wanted to. She fancied Marc rotten, had loved spending time with him, kissing him… would it be so wrong to take that to the next step and find out if they were compatible in bed?

She stopped that train of thought, albeit with difficulty. Marc had made it clear that slow and steady, rather than hot and heavy, was the route they were taking. He wasn’t going to jump on her, and she owed it to him not to do the same. But if things went that way… she wasn’t going to complain.

It was coming up to ten to seven. She’d better get a move on. Zipping up a pair of brown leather boots that looked extremely good with the dress, but were practical enough to walk the ten minutes between the café and the lake house, she popped a bottle of fizz into a bag and, after double-checking the adjoining door to the café was locked, walked back through the building to the residential door of the house. What looked like a small jiffy bag was lying on the doormat. I know the post’s getting later and later, but nearly seven in the evening is ridiculous, she thought. Perhaps it was another of her mother’s sneaky buys.

Picking up the package, she saw her name on the front. She recognised the handwriting, too. Wondering if it was a late Christmas present, she gave a surprised giggle as she opened the top and pulled out a pack of three Durex condoms. There was a note inside that simply read:

I figured any you had would have gone out of date by now. Enjoy! Cathy x

Lauren considered sending her a snarky text in reply but then thought better of it. She decided to take them with her – better to be safe than sorry. All the same, as she shoved the packet in her handbag, along with her phone and house keys, she resolved to have words with Cathy when she saw her next.

49

‘Lauren, hi!’ Marc’s voice, a little more hearty than usual, greeted her as he opened the front door. He leaned forward to kiss her, a slightly awkward gesture, before letting her into the house. Lauren caught the seductive scent of a heady, patchouli-infused aftershave. As he closed the door behind her and turned back around, she noticed the crisp white, new-looking shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, well cut midnight-blue Levi’s and an expression of utter nervousness that made her feel much better about her own butterflies, flapping vigorously in her stomach.

‘You look great,’ he continued, his eyes running over her from head to toe. ‘I, er, don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress before.’

‘Oh, this old thing?’ She laughed. ‘Well, it’s not actually mine. It’s my mum’s.’ Oh, why the hell did I say that?

‘She’s got great taste.’ Marc smiled. He moved closer to her in the hallway. ‘I’m sorry. I’m a bit all over the place.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Do you want to come through, and we can have a drink.’

‘Sounds good.’ She followed Marc to the kitchen, where the under-counter lights cast the room in a cosy glow. Over by the window, the dining table had been set for two and a cream candle burned softly in a jar.

‘Wine? I’ve got options. Or would you prefer some water?’

‘I’ve brought this, too.’ Lauren handed over the bottle of fizz.

‘Lovely – thank you.’ Marc’s nerves were evident as he fumbled the bottle from her grasp, nearly dropping it in the process. ‘I’ll put it in the fridge. I bought a bottle of sparkling, too, if that’s what you’d like.’

‘That would be great.’ Christ, this was awkward. The intimacy they’d begun to develop seemed to have vanished along with the twins. Lauren started to panic; perhaps this had been a bad idea. Maybe they needed Liam and Luca as a buffer between them. Now they weren’t around, what if they didn’t have anything to talk about?

Stop it.

Lauren touched the wooden tabletop to ground herself. Spiralling wasn’t going to help. She was here now. The cool surface of the table helped bring her back to the present, and as Marc crossed the kitchen to join her, she accepted the glass of sparkling wine gratefully. Taking a big glug, she only just stopped herself from coughing on the bubbles.

Marc regarded her with a look that was part amusement, part apprehension. ‘Is it just me,’ he said carefully, ‘or does this all feel a bit weird?’ His eyes, when Lauren met them, were full of gentle humour.

‘Weird!’ She laughed. ‘Really, really weird. And I don’t know why.’

Marc slid a hand across the tabletop, where Lauren’s hand that wasn’t clutching the wine glass was still resting. ‘I think I do.’ His fingertips were warm, and as his palm slid over the top of hers, Lauren felt a rush of heady excitement that nearly dispelled the jangling nerves.