It Takes Tea to Tango by Melissa Crosby

Author:Melissa Crosby
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romantic comedy, romcom, chick lit, contemporary romance, small town romance, clean romance, rural romance, vet romance, humorous fiction, funny romance books, new zealand romance, filipino authors, new zealand authors, nz fiction, divorce romance fiction, divorce fiction for women, small town romance series
Publisher: iHeart Press
Published: 2022-03-11T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

When I woke the next morning, the only thing I wanted to do was to waste the day in bed with Tom. I turned my head slowly so as not to wake him, and was surprised to see that he was already out of bed.

According to the digital clock on the bedside table, it was nine thirty-four. I sat up and jumped out of bed to find Tom. (When I say I jumped out of bed, I meant, of course, that I stretched and pushed myself out as quickly as I could without hurting myself. As I sat on the edge of the bed, I pointed my toes and wriggled them to loosen them up. Only when my muscles were no longer rigid did I get dressed and brush my teeth.)

* * *

Everyone was gathered in the kitchen when I went down. It was a large room with all the amenities you didn’t know you needed, including a huge butcher’s block. Hanging above it, from the ceiling, were several copper pots and pans. It was both rustic and charming at the same time.

“Ah!” Tom exclaimed. As soon as he saw me, he got up and took me into an embrace—which, of course, I happily fell into. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

I smiled up at him. “You didn’t wake me,” I said (though not in an accusatory tone).

“You looked so peaceful. I didn’t have the heart to.” He pulled out a chair for me. “Breakfast?”

“Toast and coffee, please,” I said, at which point I caught Aimee staring at me.

“Did you have a good night, Mum?”

I decided to ignore Aimee’s knowing eyebrows. “I did, thank you,” she said. And then, addressing the others, I asked, “Did everyone sleep well?”

“It would have been perfect,”—Susan said as she tore a piece off a golden croissant and popped it into her mouth—“had it not been for Alan who was snoring like a wildebeest in labor.”

Tom chuckled as he set a cup of coffee down in front of me.

Alan rested his elbows on the table; hands steepled. “Have you actually heard what a wildebeest in labor sounds like?”

“Well, no.” Susan frowned. “But I imagine it sounds just like your snores, darling.”

The Hoares have always, in my eyes, had a good relationship. Sure, they had their little squabbles. But what couple didn’t?

“What’s on the agenda today, kids?” Darren asked. “Some horse trekking, perhaps? I heard there are good tracks around these parts. Chloe can give us tips. She’s a very skilled rider.”

I raised my eyebrows and smiled. “I’m sure she is.”

It was at that point that Aimee had expertly steered the conversation to their wedding plans. There was talk about having it in Rainbow Valley (maybe), whether anyone had told Grandad that his little Aimee was getting married (yes), the number of guests (not a lot), and if there might be a chance that we could all pitch in for the wedding (of course).

At about eleven, the conversation had shifted to food and what we should have for lunch.

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