Escape to Christmas Cottage: A cosy Christmas romantic comedy about letting go of the past by CJ Morrow

Author:CJ Morrow [Morrow, CJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tamarillas Press
Published: 2020-09-29T16:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

‘Morning.’ His smile greets me as I open my eyes. We’re in bed, his bed and the dawn is just breaking.

‘You haven’t been watching me sleep, have you?’

He grins his response.

‘Because if you have that’s both creepy and a cliché.’

‘That’s me,’ he says, with a smirk. ‘Creepy and a cliché. Fancy a cuppa?’

‘If you insist.’

‘I do.’ He leans over and kisses me on the nose. Not, I notice on the mouth, maybe my garlic breath is worse than his.

I take his absence as the opportunity to slink into his bathroom where I left my toothbrush last night, and hurriedly remint my mouth. I’m safely back in bed and propped up on pillows ready for my tea when he returns with a tray.

‘And toast too. Lovely. You’re spoiling me.’

‘You’re worth it.’

‘Okay, enough of the cheese.’

‘Ah, no cheese, we’ve eaten it all.’

‘Shut up.’ I laugh, because I can’t help it and for once in a long time I’m actually happy, especially if I don’t think too much about real life and the inevitable let down that will follow this little fantasy.

‘It’s New Year’s Eve.’

‘Yes, already. How quickly that has come around.’

‘Are you still planning on going home tomorrow?’ His stares into my eyes over his mug of tea.

‘Yes, that’s all I booked for.’

‘Yes, but I booked until Sunday. When do you have to go back to work?’

‘Monday.’

‘Why don’t you stay. We’re having fun.’ He grins. Boyish and sheepish and so bloody sexy, all at once.

‘With you?’ I say before taking a big bite of buttery toast. The hot butter dribbles down my chin and I cuff it with the back of my hand. How elegant. He dashes off to the bathroom and returns with a wodge of toilet paper for me to wipe my hands and face.

‘Thank you,’ I mumble into my toast.

‘You’re welcome.’ He climbs into bed beside me and starts to eat his own toast. ‘Seriously, why don’t you stay? The weather’s not so bitterly cold now, we can go for long walks on the beach, lunches in the pub, trips to the garage mini-mart… and still find time for ourselves.’ Exactly what we’ve been doing so far and I am not complaining.

‘Eat your toast and drink your tea,’ I say, but I’m definitely considering it. Why not? What’s waiting for me at home? A splendid, empty prison.

‘Give it some thought. Promise me you will.’ He looks so sad; I think he’s joking.

‘Okay.’

‘You’ll stay?’ His eyes light up.

‘No. I’ll give it some thought.’

I hear him sigh before he takes a gulp of tea.

‘Is madam going to lounge around in the bath for hours this morning?’ he asks with a grin when we’ve finished our tea and toast.

‘Maybe.’

‘When you’re done do you fancy a walk to the beach?’

‘I suppose so.’

‘Don’t sound so enthusiastic.’ He looks crestfallen; serves him right for bossing me about. I almost like it. I’d forgotten what it feels like to be part of someone else’s plans.

‘I might just have a shower today.’ I climb out of bed and skip off to my own bathroom.

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