Page 61 of A Recipe for Romance in Brambleton

‘What’s your theory?’

‘That we both might want something, but we’re too damned terrified to admit it?’ Marc shook his head. ‘Ever since you came over to bake the cakes with the boys, I’ve wanted it to be you and me – alone. Now we’re here…’

‘It’s suddenly real, we’re not going to get interrupted by the boys, or your brother, and the thought of that is actually scary?’ Lauren finished for him. Knowing that he felt the same way as her was wonderfully reassuring and she found, to her relief and surprise, that some of the butterflies had started to fly away.

‘Exactly.’

‘We’re a pair of idiots, aren’t we?’ Lauren stood up from the table and before she could think better of it, she moved herself in between Marc’s parted knees, resting a hand on his shoulder, and bringing the other up to his jaw. ‘But this idiot is glad she’s here.’ She leaned down and kissed him, carefully at first, but then more firmly, moving her fingertips from his jaw to the nape of his neck to tangle in his hair.

‘So’s this one,’ Marc murmured. He touched her waist, bringing her down to his lap as they kissed. Kissing a little longer, they were interrupted by the chirping of the oven timer.

Lauren stood up again, and Marc rose, too, wrapping his arms around her as he did. ‘Wow,’ he said, ‘that got rid of a lot of my nerves.’

‘Mine too.’ Lauren gestured to the oven. ‘But I wouldn’t want to spoil dinner.’

Reluctantly, Marc broke away from her and quietened the timer, before pulling a large casserole dish out of the oven. ‘Ready to eat?’

Privately, Lauren wasn’t quite sure how much she’d manage to consume, given the heightened state of her emotions, but the enticing scent of the contents of the casserole dish as Marc removed the lid convinced her she’d be more than happy to have a good go.

‘It’s my signature dish,’ Marc called over his shoulder. ‘The one thing I learned to cook really well while I was in France.’

‘Well, it smells fab.’

They tucked in, and Lauren’s nerves began to settle again. Marc was funny, clever and great company; even more so when he wasn’t worrying about the boys. Lovely as his sons were, it felt special to have his undivided attention. He mentioned that he’d spoken to them earlier, and they were having a great time in London. He was looking forward to speaking to them again tomorrow morning, when they’d no doubt be full of the joys of Minecraft: The Musical.

‘It is nice not to have to worry about them though,’ Marc conceded. ‘I’d almost forgotten what it was like just to have myself to think about.’

‘I know it’s not quite the same, but I’ve felt like that since Mum’s been away, too.’ Lauren placed her knife and fork together – she’d eaten more than she’d thought she could, as Marc’s cassoulet had been delicious. ‘I spent the first couple of days worried sick, and then after that, I started to enjoy being alone.’ She blushed. ‘And spending time with you.’

‘I’ve enjoyed spending time with you, too.’ Marc’s relaxed smile, in the candlelight, sent a shiver down Lauren’s spine. The butterflies of earlier in the evening had been replaced by tingles of anticipation. They had the whole night… they could take their time.

Neither wanted the dessert, but when Marc asked if she fancied a coffee with brandy, Lauren nodded. She wasn’t tired, but she didn’t want to miss a second of this evening.

‘I’ve lit the fire in the living room, if you want coffee there,’ Marc said as he was preparing a cafetière. ‘Go on through if you like.’ He produced a bottle of brandy from inside one of the kitchen cupboards. ‘Some of this in the coffee? It’s Joel’s bottle, but he’d probably thank us for helping him to get rid.’

‘That would be great, thanks.’ Lauren wandered out into the hallway and then into the lounge. The warmth from the fire was lovely, and Marc had only put on a couple of standard lamps in the far corners of the room, casting the space in a cosy, intimate light. She noticed a large sheepskin rug by the fire, which hadn’t been here the last time she’d visited. Settling herself on the sofa, which was a little way away from the fire, she decided she wanted to be a bit closer to it, so when Marc came into the room carrying a tray with two mugs and the coffee a couple of minutes later, it was to find her sitting on the rug, in front of the open fire.

‘Bella and Noah bought me that rug as a housewarming gift when we moved here.’ Marc grinned. ‘But I’ve been too nervous to put it out, with the boys around. Between the slime, chocolate and Haribo, it wouldn’t last five minutes.’ He put the tray down on an occasional table and settled down beside Lauren. ‘It’ll probably have to go back in the cupboard again tomorrow.’

‘Better make the most of it tonight, then.’ Lauren leaned over and kissed Marc, who, unlike during the kisses before dinner, tensed. Pulling back so she could see him again, she saw a look she couldn’t interpret on his face. ‘What is it? Did I do something wrong?’

Marc shook his head furiously. ‘No,’ he replied shakily. ‘It’s not that.’

‘Tell me.’ Lauren, more than ever, needed clarity. She hoped that Marc was going to give it to her, before they went any further. ‘Whatever it is, you can talk to me.’ She reached out and touched his cheek. His jaw went rigid under her touch and she ran her fingers down his face in what she hoped was a soothing gesture. It hit her again that this wasn’t an easy road for either of them to navigate.

50

‘Lauren…’

Marc’s eyes were wide in the dim light from the fire. His mouth looked so inviting, and her heart was beating nineteen to the dozen in response to the hunger in his eyes. A hunger that was belied by his trembling hand, clasped in hers.

‘It’s all right,’ she said softly, bringing one of his hands to her lips and kissing the backs of his fingers. ‘We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.’

‘Christ, Lauren, I want to.’ His voice was gruff and he licked his lips nervously. ‘I’ve been wanting to since our last kiss.’

‘Even with the black eye?’ Lauren joked gently. She slipped a hand out of his, and raised it to his face, brushing her fingertips over the place where her head had collided with his face on Christmas Eve. He closed his eyes, and leaned into her caress, and she felt the warmth of his skin under her palm.

‘It’s been a while,’ he murmured. ‘If I’m being honest, seeing you sitting there on the rug… it made me realise how much I want you.’