Page 65 of A Recipe for Romance in Brambleton

Lauren nodded. ‘They must.’ As Lauren watched, Marc seemed to shrug off the weight of the conversation, as if he’d been practising. ‘But let’s drink some tea, shall we? I’m getting chilly, standing in the hallway.’ He turned away from the boys’ room and walked back to the master bedroom.

‘Yeah, let’s.’ Forcing a smile, Lauren followed. She was determined not to overthink this. She and Marc had spent the night together – it didn’t mean they were going to spend the rest of their lives like that. One step at a time, she told herself as she re-entered Marc’s room. Something else flickered through her mind, too, a piece of advice that her mother had drummed into her after her accident: if you want to know something, just ask politely. Most of the time, people will answer you. And if they don’t, they have good reasons why not.

They snuggled back down into bed, and Lauren gratefully took her large mug of tea.

‘I hope it’s up to your standards.’ Marc grinned at her, their prior conversation seemingly finished. ‘I’m aware I’m serving tea to a professional!’

‘Well, a self-taught one.’ Lauren smiled. ‘But it’s lovely – thank you.’

They sipped their tea in silence for a few moments, and Lauren leaned back against the pillows. She still couldn’t quite get a nagging sense of uncertainty out of her mind. She battled with herself; one part of her brain wanted to ask Marc where he thought this was going, but the other part was entreating her to enjoy the moment, not spoil it with talk of ‘what next?’

The sun was now streaming through the glass, warming the room and casting the lake in a sparkling light. Marc’s room was dual-aspect, allowing him to see both the sunrise and the daylight as it progressed across the sky. Lauren’s heart flipped as she saw the sun gilding the grey streaks in Marc’s hair; in that moment, she realised that she didn’t want this to be a one-off. She wanted to wake up next to him again and again. Last night had been funny, and lovely, and sexy, but most of all it had felt like she’d found someone who might get her, and all of her quirks. She took a deep breath.

‘About last night…’

53

Marc’s mug of tea paused halfway to his lips. He put it back down again on the bedside table. Turning towards Lauren, he saw how seriously she was regarding him.

‘Is everything okay?’

Lauren’s silence unnerved him. Was she getting cold feet? A sudden, sick feeling of disappointment and guilt threatened to overwhelm him. Struggling to swallow them down, he reached out a hand to take one of hers.

‘Talk to me, Lauren. We were so great at talking last night. I don’t want that to stop.’

Lauren’s eyes dropped from his to the duvet, but he didn’t try to catch her gaze again. He’d realised, early on, that sometimes she found eye contact difficult. Trying to be patient, he gave her hand a squeeze. ‘Honestly, whatever you have to say to me… it’s all right. I’m a big boy. I can take it!’ He hoped she’d catch the attempt at levity in his tone.

‘Last night was wonderful,’ she murmured, her eyes still on the patterned duvet cover.

‘It was.’ Marc knew there was more, though. The sunlight on his back warmed him, but his gut was beginning to churn. ‘But…’

Lauren’s hand jumped in his, and as he watched her, she took a deep breath and raised her eyes to meet his. ‘This is a lot for me, Marc. I don’t do… this.’ She gestured around the room.

‘Shame,’ Marc said, injecting a note of lightness into his tone that he hoped would be reassuring. ‘Because you’re very good at it.’

Lauren shook her head. ‘I’m serious. I can count the number of people I’ve slept with on the fingers of one hand, and I wouldn’t need my thumb!’ She gave a nervous giggle.

‘I’m hardly Cassanova myself,’ Marc replied gently. ‘And you’re right. This is a lot. But it’s a lot in a good way.’ He leaned over and drew her into his arms.

‘Sorry,’ she muttered into his shoulder. ‘I’m fine, really.’ Giving a laugh, she added, ‘Just embarrassed.’

‘Why?’ Marc began to stroke her silky, light brown hair away from her neck. ‘You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about.’

‘I’m glad you think so.’ She fell silent again. ‘I know you and I have both got a lot going on, that’s all. I don’t want to put any pressure on you with my stuff. You’ve got enough of your own.’

‘Is this about Tessa? Or Myriam?’ Marc asked carefully. When he’d seen Lauren looking at the boys’ picture of their mother, he’d felt so many things. Things that were hard to define. She nodded against him.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m going to be very honest with you, Marc, because you deserve that.’ Lauren moved away from him, and he immediately felt colder.

‘Go on.’

‘It’s so hard…’ She clenched her fingers again.

Swallowing down frustration, Marc let her speak.

‘I-I think I might want to do this again. And I think I might want to do this a lot. And spend more time with you, and the boys, and get to know you better.’

Marc almost sagged in relief. ‘That’s great,’ he said. ‘So why were you so afraid of telling me that?’