Rosaline Palmer Takes the Cake: Winner Bakes All by Alexis Hall

Author:Alexis Hall [Hall, Alexis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780349429922
Published: 2021-05-17T18:30:00+00:00

It took less than twenty minutes in the end, and that included getting the bed back into position as carefully and quietly as possible. And then they were standing awkwardly in the front hall, Harry holding a mug in one hand and his toolbox in the other.

“Well,” he said. “Better be leaving you to it.”

That just felt bad. Hi, drive for an hour at no notice, fix my house, refuse payment and then fuck off immediately. Although maybe he wanted to go. Maybe he had a hot date to get back to. Or, if nothing else, a self-saucing pudding. “You . . . you don’t have to. If you wanted to hang around and have another cup of tea or something.”

They eyed each other uncertainly. Then he shrugged. “Up to you, mate. Don’t want to wear out my welcome.”

“No, please. It’s fine.”

“Yeah, but”—his feet shuffled against the threadbare carpet—“it’s late and you’ve probably got stuff in the morning.”

“Well, I don’t want to make you stay if you’ve got to rush off. But you’ve come a long way and done me a favour, so I don’t want to chuck you out.”

He frowned. “Mate. You don’t owe me nothing. I said I’d give you a hand if you needed it and I have. I’m happy to stay if you fancy a natter, but just ’cos I like you and you’re pretty—which I know I shouldn’t be saying—don’t mean you gotta give me the time of day for a plug socket.”

“Um,” she said.

Truthfully, she wasn’t sure how to take this. She’d been raised with a very strong sense of social obligation, and the idea of being given a choice about it was on the edge of disorienting. Besides, she did sort of . . . actually want Harry to stick around for a bit, although she wasn’t overinclined to dwell on the why of it, and having to tell him “Yes, I do want you to stay” felt a lot more revealing than just assuming he had to.

Also, he thought she was pretty.

Which he’d mentioned before. But felt different now.

“Um,” she said again. “It would be nice if you . . . wanted to stay? For a natter?”

He plopped his toolbox back on the floor and followed her through to the kitchen. “All right then.”

Thankfully the room was in a reasonable condition—its diminutive size coupled with the edge of fussiness she’d inherited from her father meant Rosaline was a tidy-as-she-went kind of baker, and although the elements of an abandoned pudding were still readily visible, they were arrayed neatly towards the back of the work surface. On top of which, fridge door aside, it was a relatively Amelie-free zone.

“My hospitality’s a bit limited, for obvious reasons.” The freezer had continued to melt and she hastily remopped, since while she was sure Harry had been sincere about not wanting anything from her, he’d probably have been a bit upset at winding up with a nasty fall and a twisted ankle. “There’s more tea. And .

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