Drip.
She drew back the curtains and watched as a single teardrop of water slid down an icicle hanging from the lintel outside, and hit the sill below.
Drip.
That was it. That was the sound that had woken her, that had made it so impossible to get back to sleep. It was the thaw. It was the snow and ice receding. It was her and Rufus...leaving. She settled on the windowsill, pulling the blanket tight around her, tucking herself in, right up to her neck as she leant against the side wall of the window seat and followed the slow but inevitable progress of each drop of ice melt from the icicle to the ledge below. She looked out over the driveway and the lane. It looked no different than it had yesterday, but she knew that was deceiving. The temperature had risen, probably by just a degree or two, and that tiny, barely perceptible change would be all it took to melt the intimacy that had grown between her and Rufus in the four days that they had been here.
She jumped as the curtain jerked back behind her, and she found Rufus, rubbing at his hair with the heel of one hand, the other finding the nape of her neck, absentmindedly winding into a curl there as he leaned towards the window pane, his breath misting the glass.
‘It’s thawing,’ he said, his hand stilling on the back of her neck. ‘The ice is melting. The snow soon too.’
She leant into his hand, rested the side of her head against him as he stood even closer. They watched the window, the icicle beyond it as the sky lightened. The sun crept over the horizon, sending streaks of pink and red and purple across the sky. Jess wasn’t sure when Rufus had slipped onto the seat beside her, when his arms had sneaked around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. All she knew was that by the time the sun was fully up, her fingers and toes were ice, the dripping had stopped, and she never wanted to move.
‘How long, do you think?’ she asked at last.
‘Until the road is clear?’
She nodded, suddenly finding it hard to speak.
‘Tomorrow. The day after at the latest.’
‘We should make the most of being here, then. Together...’
She tried to make her voice light. Playful. T
ried to make it sound as if this was just what they’d said it would be all along. Just something fun. Something they would both walk away from without a backward glance when they left this place. Rufus kissed the top of her head. And now she was watching the snow melt, making no effort to move, and wondering what she had done. Why her heart hurt at the thought of this beautiful landscape looking lush and green in the spring.
‘What do you want to do today?’ Rufus asked, his voice a rough murmur in her ear. Involuntarily, her arms tightened around his, locking them together.
‘This,’ she said. ‘Or drawing the curtains and pretending the sun isn’t up yet.’ She held her breath, not sure how Rufus would react to that. The first time she had so much as hinted that she wasn’t going to be just walking away from this as if nothing had happened. He found her hand under the blanket and brought it to his lips.
‘You’re cold,’ he said, his voice gruff as he stood, holding out a hand to pull her up. ‘Let’s eat,’ he said, his face inscrutable. ‘We’ll make a plan when you’re warm.’
* * *
Jess wrapped her hands around her mug and grinned as Rufus served her avocado and poached eggs on toast.
She could get used to this.
Or...not. She reined in her imagination, her smile faltering. There were a million places she could get avocado on toast. She didn’t need Rufus for that. She didn’t need him for anything. He was a nice added bonus to this delicious breakfast, that was all. She had to keep reminding herself of that.
‘What does your Boxing Day usually like?’ she asked.
‘Mum and Dad used to force us outdoors and the habit’s stuck. The last few years we’ve gone ice skating at the rink by the church.’
‘That sounds amazing. I’d love to go skating. I don’t suppose you have a convenient frozen lake kicking around the place somewhere?’
He frowned, and then grinned mischievously. ‘No frozen lake. But leave it with me. I have an idea.’
She grinned, finding his enthusiasm infectious. If this was to be her last day here, then she wasn’t going to spend it brooding. She was going to spend it counting the times she could bring a smile to his mouth and he to hers.
‘I will actually explode if you keep feeding me like this,’ she said, leaning back, leaving half a slice of toast on her plate.
‘Well, I have an idea if you want to work it off,’ he said, and she hit his arm affectionately.
‘Get your mind out of the gutter.’
‘Get your mind out of the gutter, lass,’ he countered, smiling. ‘That’s not what I meant. Wait here. Don’t leave the kitchen.’