The Mistletoe Kiss by Ruby Moone

Author:Ruby Moone [Moone, Ruby]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2017-11-25T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

“I’m going to look at a recipe book,” Christy announced over porridge. Lawrence glanced up. He seemed to be bouncing back somewhat. Regaining something of his enthusiasm. It had been desperately hard to watch him so saddened, so low.

“Dare I ask why?”

Christy’s grin was like sunshine. “I am going to make cakes. I am going to use some of the money you gave me for the enterprise to buy tea, coffee, and chocolate, and something to make biscuits and cakes with so with every drink I can offer a small cake or a biscuit.”

“Very well,” Lawrence said, trying very hard to keep his face straight. Christie’s blue eyes shone with that unquenchable enthusiasm, and his hair, still clean, just shone.

“You think I am silly, don’t you,” Christy said, looking at him warily and Lawrence was immediately contrite, and aware that he had probably been staring at him.

“Of course not,” he said, schooling his features into a frown. “I think it is a capital plan.”

Christy looked as though he might say something, but then he just smiled. It spread across his face slowly, eventually warming his eyes, and for a second, Lawrence wondered at what he saw there in those blue orbs. Christy looked away before Lawrence could determine it. Shaking his head, he got to his feet. His leg was aching abominably. It gave way and he grabbed the table. Christy was beside him immediately and held his arm tightly. He was grateful for the support but angry at needing it. He shook him off.

“Are you in pain?” Christy said, hovering.

Lawrence shook his head. “It’s just a little weak in the cold.”

“Can I do anything to help?”

Lawrence turned and Christy was closer than he realised. He froze. He could feel the warmth from Christy’s skin. Could see the texture of his lips. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.

Christy’s gaze roamed over Lawrence’s face and settled on his mouth.

Lawrence swallowed as his skin broke out in gooseflesh.

“I’ll help you find a book,” he said. Christy jumped, and they moved apart.

* * * *

Mr. Fenton was looking over his shoulder at the recipe for ginger cake. Christy tried to breathe normally but ever since that moment in the back room where they had stared at each other for agonisingly long moments Christy had been on edge. On edge and almost unbearably aroused. It was awful. He was certain that at any moment Mr. Fenton would see and be horrified.

“Perhaps you should ask your mother,” Mr. Fenton said as he scanned the instructions and pulled a doubtful face. “It seems like a lot of mess.”

Christy laughed but it sounded a little wild. “She explained to me how to make cakes and biscuits.”

“Perhaps I could pay her to make them?” Mr. Fenton said. Christy turned to look at him. He was frowning now, thinking.

“Pay her?”

“Why not?”

“Well, I don’t know that March would let her. And I’m not too sure it is a good idea to bring you or the shop to March’s notice.” Christy felt uneasy at the thought.

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