Anna woke to the smell of frying bacon. She lay in bed, blinking up at the ceiling, her mind a tumult of half-remembered, rather erotic dreams in which Colin had had a starring role. Why hadn’t he kissed her last night? For a second she’d thought he’d at least been thinking about it, unless she’d read the situation entirely wrong. The possibility she had was enough to make her close her eyes, cringing.
Well, there was nothing she could it about it now. Slipping out of bed, Anna yanked on a fleece and a pair of jeans, ran a comb through her hair and brushed her teeth before heading downstairs.
The kitchen looked transformed. Anna pretended to stumble back in shock, one hand clutching her chest. “Am I in the same house?”
“All right, all right,” Colin called good-naturedly.
He was dressed in a faded, gray t-shirt and even more faded jeans, and both pieces of clothing showed his powerful frame to perfection. Anna had the urge to run a hand along his stomach to see if his abs were as taut and sculpted as they looked.
“I figured I ought to clean up, considering.”
“Considering?”
“I have a houseguest.”
“Where did you put all the stuff?” she asked as she perched on a stool. The island and table were both completely clear, their wooden surfaces freshly scrubbed.
“In my study upstairs. Don’t open that door on pain of death.”
“I consider myself warned.”
“Coffee?”
“Yes, please. Can I help?”
“Nope.” He handed her a ceramic mug of coffee and Anna wrapped her hands around it as she watched Colin fry bacon and eggs. She felt rather remarkably happy. “I haven’t asked you if you like bacon and eggs,” he remarked as he slid two fried eggs onto a plate. “There’s toast if you don’t.”
“I love bacon and eggs.” She assured him. “Makes a change from the usual bowl of cereal standing at the sink.”
“I thought we could go for a walk today, if you wanted?” Colin said when they were both seated with their fry-ups. “I know you’ve seen a bit of the village, but there’s a nice stroll along the Lea if you’re interested.”
“That sounds lovely,” Anna answered hesitantly. “But I feel as if I’m commandeering your entire holiday...”
“I don’t mind.” Colin looked down at his plate as he toyed with a forkful of egg. “I’m enjoying it.”
Her heart flip-flopped just as it had last night. It felt as if Colin had made a bigger admission than perhaps he’d meant. Or maybe that was just more of her wishful thinking.
“So am I,” Anna said, and they shared a quick smile, complicit before they finished their breakfast.
After breakfast they did the washing up together, developing a bit of banter over greasy plates and soap suds, and then Anna went to get dressed for their walk, meeting Colin a few minutes later at the front door with Millie frisking around their heels.
It was a glorious day, cold and brisk, the stark branches of trees thrust up against a pale blue sky and wintry sunlight making everything glitter.
Colin led her through his garden, a wild tangle of bushes with one half-finished raised flowerbed, a stack of two by fours propped up next to it, damp and starting to rot.
“The garden is a work in progress as well?” She surmised and he grimaced in acknowledgement.
He was a funny sort of perfectionist, Anna mused as they turned down a narrow footpath that ran along the Lea River, which at this point was little more than a burbling creek with steep sides covered in now-bare blackberry brambles. With his messy house and careless ways, Colin didn’t seem like a perfectionist, not the way Mark had been, so fussy and fastidious, running a finger along furniture for dust, pursing his lips in disapproval all too often. But perhaps Colin wasn’t actually a perfectionist. Perhaps what really happened with his projects was that he simply lost interest. The thought was almost enough to steal the glow from the day, until Colin pointed out a couple of ducks swimming in the river, and Millie began to bark madly. Anna decided to stop overanalyzing everything and let this one day speak for itself.
They walked along the river for half an hour, through what was in spring, Colin told her, a lovely bluebell wood, and then over a quaint wooden footbridge and across a tufty meadow tipped with frost before they came out at the top of the village, by the primary school.
“You know, I always thought the Cotswolds were quite tony,” Anna remarked as they walked past some very normal-looking terraced houses. “You know, all electric gates and designer shops and organic farms.”
“Well, there’s plenty of that.” Colin acknowledged with a bit of a grimace. “But there’s plenty of locals as well, who were here long before the Londoners decided to swan out here and turn everything in to their Country Life fantasy of rural living.”
“But you’re not bitter or anything, are you?” Anna teased.
“How can I be, when they all want kitchen extensions?” Colin answered with a grin. “They keep me in business, those snobby Londoners.”
“So really you should be thanking them.”
“I suppose I should.”
They walked across the school playing field to the top of the high street, and Anna breathed in the cold, clear air, pausing to enjoy the view of the narrow street with its terraced shops sloping down to meadows of varying shades of green that stretched on to the blue horizon.
“Tomorrow’s Christmas.” She mused as she caught sight of the lights strung along the street lamps.
“So you’ve said. Are you regretting being on your own for Christmas?”
“I’m not on my own.” She shot him a quick smile, and his look of pleased gratification sent warmth stealing through her.
“True, but the whole mum and dad bit. The stockings, the presents...?”
“Wait, I’m not getting presents?”
He laughed then, and so did she, something loosening and lightening inside her.
“I like hearing you laugh.” They’d stopped at the top of the high street, before the shops and houses began, meadow on one side and the playing field on the other. It felt as if the whole world was holding its breath.
“I like laughing,” Anna admitted.
“It seems as if you hadn’t done much of it recently,” Colin said quietly and after a second’s startled pause Anna nodded.
“Life’s been kind of hard, as you can imagine.” She gazed out at the street, the tumbledown buildings of golden stone, the crooked sign on the pub, the charming yet authentic quaintness of it all. She couldn’t look at Colin, not when she felt stripped bare emotionally. “For the first time I can see ahead to a point when perhaps it won’t be quite so hard, and that feels amazing.”
“I’m glad.” His voice was low and heartfelt and even though it was dangerous she turned to look at him anyway.
Her heart stumbled and tripped at the intent look in Colin’s eyes, the soft smile on his face. Affection and desire together, so heartfelt and sincere, there was no denying it this time. No denying anything.
Anna moved first, but Colin met her halfway, their mouths bumping together with clumsy gentleness, the cold press of their lips sparking something inside Anna’s soul. She grabbed a fistful of his coat to anchor herself and her mouth opened and that awkward first brush of the lips suddenly turned into something far more insistent... and far more dangerous.
Colin slid his hands down to her hips and pulled her towards him. He was a man who knew what he was doing. A man who was as strong and capable in this as he was in everything else. She tilted her head back and they kept kissing; she forgot to breathe. She felt as if she didn’t need to breathe; all she needed was this. Him. Kissing her, forever.
A car sped by, and the sound of it had them breaking apart, both of them looking startled and vaguely guilty. Now what?
“I...” Anna began, and then found she couldn’t finish. Her lips were buzzing.
“Let’s walk,” Colin said.
Grateful for the distraction, she nodded and they started down the street. She barely took in the shops decked out in festive wreaths and lights, the sound of bells jingling as doors opened and closed. Her mind was spinning, spinning, wondering how she was going to navigate this new level of—what?
If they’d stopped the kiss at that first sweet press, they could have explained it away. A little lapse, a temporary slip, the spirit of the holiday, blah, blah, blah. But, no. Anna had grabbed him, opened her mouth, made it into more. And there was no explaining away that blissful moment of hungry, unabashed passion. Just remembering it made her blush, squirm, and smile all at once. She didn’t dare even look at Colin.
At the village green, she stopped and glanced at the impressive Norman church on the opposite side with its squat, square tower.
“What about going to the carol service this evening?” she asked.
“Sure. The one near midnight is candlelit, has a nice feel. Quieter.”
Which was clearly code for no kids. She imagined the noisy, happy press of children at the five o’clock family service and shot Colin a quick, grateful smile without meeting his eyes. “That sounds good.”
For some reason as they started walking back to Colin’s house, a gray, glum feeling settled over her like a fog. It was Christmas. And while she’d thought she’d wanted to get away from it all, she found now that she was missing the festive spirit a little bit. Not the presents, precisely, but the trappings... decorations, Christmas carols, eggnog, and shortbread. That happy, bubbly feeling that only holidays could promise.
“So you don’t decorate for Christmas, I gather?” she asked Colin as they stepped into the hallway.
He glanced back at her, shrugging off his beaten-up waxed jacket. “How can you tell?” His easy smile faltered as he took in her undoubtedly glum expression. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Anna felt silly for being down about it.
She’d chosen this, after all, and Colin had already given more of his company and consideration than she’d any right to ask for or expect. And that kiss had been the present she could have asked for. And yet she still felt like something was missing. She wanted a little bit of the real Christmas spirit. “I suppose I’m just missing all the Christmas stuff a bit. Like a tree.”
“A tree?” Colin raised his eyebrows. “We can manage a tree.”
Hope lit up like a candle inside her, emerged in a shy smile. “We can?”
“Sure. I can cut down a tree in the garden and plonk it in a bucket of dirt. I’ve even got a box of ornaments down in the cellar, but they’re all the naff ones my sisters didn’t want.”
Anna wrinkled her nose at the word. “Naff?”
“You know, the pinecones covered in glitter that I made when I was six. The crocheted Santa Claus Emma made in art class. Talk about looking like a crazed serial killer.”
Anna laughed. “Those are the kinds of ornaments I love.” The kind she’d never have, because she wouldn’t ever have the children to make them. But this time, instead of letting that thought settle on her like a cloud, she pushed it away, choosing the sunshine. “Then why don’t we have a tree?”
“All right, then.” Within minutes they’d trooped out into the back garden, which stretched farther than Anna had realized, across the river, and into a small wood. He found a spruce that was big enough to be a decent tree without overtaking the room and started to saw. A short while later the tree was in the sitting room, which was as unfinished as the rest of the house, although Anna could imagine how it might look done up, with its big stone fireplace and the beams running along the ceiling. Right now it held a huge, battered, and overstuffed sofa, a scuffed coffee table, and, surprisingly, a piano.
“Do you play?” Anna asked and Colin shook his head.
“No, I’ve always wanted to learn but I never got around to it. My dad played, though. He could hear a song and play it, anything, just like that. My mum was going to get rid of the piano when she moved to Portugal and I offered to take it.” He glanced at the dusty instrument, a faraway look in his eyes. “One day I’ll learn.”
“Yes,” Anna agreed. “You will.”
Colin went down to the cellar to retrieve the promised box of ornaments, and before too long Anna was helping him unpack them, laughing until her sides ached at the scary look on the Santa’s face, just as Colin had promised.
While she was putting the finishing touches on the tree Colin warmed up some soup, and they ate with their bowls on their laps in front of the fire he’d built, admiring their beautiful if rather makeshift tree.
The gloom Anna had been feeling had dissipated entirely, and a new contentment had taken its place.
“This is a much better Christmas than I ever envisioned having,” she said after they’d finished their lunch.
“Me too, actually.” The ensuing lull in the conversation suddenly felt tense, expectant. Anna gazed into the fire, pretending to be mesmerized by the flames, even as her body started to tingle and she wondered if Colin was going to say anything—
“We haven’t talked about that kiss.” His voice was low, sure, and yet with a question in it.
Anna took a deep breath. “No,” she agreed. “We haven’t.”
“Do you want to talk about it now?”
“Umm... well...”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
She thought she heard a smile in his voice, and felt a mingled rush of relief and disappointment. Colin rose to take their soup bowls, and Anna watched him go, wondering if she’d wanted to talk about that kiss after all.