Page 64 of A Recipe for Romance in Brambleton

‘I get that. Routines are comforting. I live my entire life by routine. The house move was the most terrifying thing I’ve done in years, because it marked a complete change in habits I’d built up over the past couple of years. But breaking away from that, starting a new life here with the boys, was the best thing I could have done, for me and for them.’ He chuckled. ‘Of course, now we’re establishing all new routines and habits, and when I go back to work in the new year, those will be even more embedded. But I like patterns.’

‘So where do we fit into that – you and me – I mean?’ Lauren ran a hand up Marc’s bare chest and rested it on his shoulder. He felt warm, and sexy, and very much not part of her patterns. But she was enjoying it.

Marc leaned forward and kissed her. ‘You’re the stochastic resonance in my quiet, predictable loop that’s amplifying the frequency of my life.’

‘Come again?’

‘Sorry.’ Marc laughed. ‘I think I’m already getting myself into the headspace for work again. I mean that you’ve disrupted my careful timeline, in the loveliest way, and suddenly I’m feeling things again.’ He shook his head. ‘Christ, that sounds fucking corny.’

‘Oh, I think I can do better.’ Lauren grinned. ‘You’re the gooseberry jam in the layers of my Victoria sponge – you bite down thinking you know what to expect, and then – zing! – you get hit with an unexpected but exciting flavour.’

‘Gooseberry jam, eh? Not Marmite and honey on a crumpet?’

‘Ugh. I think I prefer your – what was it – scholastic relevance?’

‘Not quite.’ Marc’s lips met hers again, sounding out each syllable of the phrase with a kiss.

‘Ah,’ Lauren murmured. ‘Can you say that again?’

He did. And by the time he’d reached the last kiss, they were entwined on the rug, and ready for a second round.

‘I love it when you talk nerdy,’ Lauren said.

‘That’s good, because there’ll be a lot more of that when I’m back at work.’ Marc ran a hand down over her breast, sweeping the curve of her waist and then up between her thighs. ‘And I love it when you talk baking. But I was only joking about the Marmite and honey.’

‘Glad to hear it.’ Lauren arched her back as Marc’s fingers found her most pleasurable centre. She didn’t need any more words after that, nerdy, baking or otherwise.

52

In the end, Lauren did stay the night at the lake house. With Myriam away, and a sudden carpe diem sense of adventure running through her veins, she snuggled up with Marc in his bed and was soon sound asleep. She’d felt, when they’d gone upstairs long after midnight, that she wanted to stay awake all night, to see the sun rising in the side window of Marc’s room, until its red glow turned the lake a glorious burnt orange, but they’d both crashed out, exhausted.

The next morning, Lauren jolted awake, and it took her a few seconds to realise where she was. The familiar sense of guilt washed over her about being away from home, laced with a momentary panic, until she remembered that Myriam was safe and well.

‘Hey,’ Marc murmured, stirring beside her. ‘Are you okay?’

Lauren turned to him, willing her racing heart to slow down. ‘Sorry about that. I forgot where I was for a sec.’

‘I forgive you.’ Marc’s playful smile wasn’t helping to slow down her pulse – rather the reverse, in fact. He leaned down and planted a feather-soft kiss on her lips. She responded equally gently, but soon their temperatures were rising again.

Marc pulled away, laughing. ‘Tea?’

‘That would be lovely.’ Lauren leaned back against the pillows and watched as he pulled on a pair of boxers and walked across the room. Alone, she glanced around, smiling to see a photograph of the twins in a box frame on the wall. They must have been toddlers when it was taken. They looked so happy, so carefree.

Lauren swung her feet out from the bed and grabbed Marc’s white shirt, which he’d gathered up with the rest of their things before they’d come upstairs in the small hours. She decided to use the loo before Marc came back with her cuppa. Padding out into the hallway, which had only been lit by the dimmest of plugged-in night light bulbs last night, she quickly used the bathroom. As she passed the twins’ room on her way back, she noticed another framed photograph on the wall, just inside the door. A small image, just eight inches by six, it hung above the light switch.

Tessa.

Lauren drew closer and looked more carefully. She’d been surprised that there hadn’t been any photographs up in the living room, or in the hallway, of the family, but then Marc had mentioned the amount of redecorating he wanted to do, so perhaps they hadn’t been put on the wall yet. The boys had obviously wanted one in their room, though, which had already been painted. A warm ray of winter light shone on the image, encased in a white frame, and Lauren saw a beautiful woman, with lustrous long dark hair, caught in what looked to be laughter, staring back out from the shot. The smile reached her clear blue eyes, and the simple green sundress she wore was immensely flattering. She was leaning back against the wall of what looked like a fort, with the calm sea and blue sky in the background. A holiday snap?

What a loss to this family she must have been.

Lauren swallowed hard and shook her head. She mustn’t be jealous. She couldn’t be jealous of a woman who’d passed away. Marc was moving on, and she should trust that. All the same, a train of thought now overtook her – what if Tessa hadn’t died? What if Marc and the boys hadn’t moved back to the UK? What if she was just a casual ‘getting back on the horse’ affair, and Marc was going to move on from her as quickly as they’d got together?

‘Hey,’ Marc’s voice behind her made her jump guiltily. ‘Everything all right?’

Lauren turned around quickly, almost knocking the tea mugs out of his hands. ‘Sorry. I was on my way back from the loo.’ She blushed. ‘The boys’ room looks really nice,’ she continued hastily. ‘You’ve done a great job redecorating it.’

Marc smiled carefully. ‘They seem to like it.’ Lauren saw his gaze flickering from her to the framed photo. ‘They wanted her to be there when they turned out the light,’ he said gruffly. He looked back at Lauren. ‘They miss her.’