‘Yes. I hope Edie’s new beginning is a good one.’
‘She seems to think it will be.’ The touch of Kate’s lips echoed through his memory, leaving him trembling.
The thought that he’d decided never to love anyone again suddenly made him feel like a traitor. As if he’d turned his back on all the people who’d taught him how to love, telling them that love meant nothing.
‘Would you like to go for coffee—something to eat, maybe?’ Kate could be depended on to want something to eat.
‘I’d like to, but...’ She twisted her mouth in an expression of regret. ‘I’ve got to get back to the surgery. I’m working this evening.’
‘Too bad. Another time, maybe.’
She thought about it for a moment. ‘How about the weekend? I’m pretty busy this week, as one of the other vets at the practice is on holiday and so everyone’s filling in for her. It would be nice to do it some time when I don’t have to rush away.’
Ethan smiled. Kate wanted to take time with him. He wanted that too. ‘Why don’t you come over on Friday evening and I’ll cook? Sam’s going over to my parents’. He and my dad have a project they’re working on together. So I can cook something a bit different.’
The menu wasn’t really the issue. Maybe being alone with him would be, but Kate only hesitated for a moment.
‘So we won’t be having bangers and mash?’
‘I was thinking maybe not.’
‘Hmm. Shame. What time shall I come?’
* * *
One of the disadvantages of knowing Ethan was that Kate had become obsessed by her own wardrobe. It was no longer something that just got opened once or twice a day, for long enough to pull out something which more or less matched and was appropriate for the weather. It had to be sorted through and studied carefully.
She puffed out a breath. She’d taken three perfectly good summer dresses out and hung them over the tops of the doors. One would be just as good as the other.
She held the red one up against her, looking in the mirror. A bit short. She didn’t want to look as if she was trying to seduce him. When she did the same with the green one, it was a bit long. Kate made a face at herself.
‘They’re just knees, for goodness’ sakes. He’s seen lots of different knees before. He’s a doctor.’
Kate puffed out another breath. The dark-blue one. It fell just above the knee, slimline and a wrap-around at the front. Before she could change her mind again, she put the other two dresses back into the wardrobe and banged the door shut. Her car was playing up and she had decided that, rather than have it conk out on her again, it was best to take it straight to the garage. If she was going to wash her hair and blow dry it into something approximating a style before the taxi arrived to take her to Ethan’s house, then she’d better get moving.
* * *
Ethan had thought carefully about the menu for that evening. A couple of free-range steaks, done with peppercorn sauce and a salad. Nothing too fancy, but at least he could indulge his penchant for a medium-rare steak without Sam wrinkling his nose and telling him that his dinner was bleeding.
He made the salad and scrubbed some potatoes, taking the meat out of the fridge so that it went into the pan at room temperature. Then he set up the table in the conservatory, laying it carefully. A couple of candles didn’t seem too far over the top.
Kate arrived at eight, blowing every rational thought from his head. She stood on the doorstep, wearing a blue dress, her hair tamed into a mass of curls at the back of her head. Ethan felt as if he was a teenager on a first date.
‘Can I come in?’ She was clearly unwilling to squeeze past him as he stood motionless, blocking the doorway.
‘Uh...yes, of course.’ Ethan remembered his manners and showed her through to the conservatory. A bottle of wine stood ready, and he poured a glass for her and a glass of sparkling water for himself.
He shooed her from the kitchen when she tried to help with cooking the steaks, reckoning that a steady hand was probably wise when dealing with a hot pan. He served the dinner, eating almost nothing in favour of watching her. It seemed that Kate, too, was on her best behaviour.
But dessert changed all that. When he set the two glass dishes on the table, she let out a little scream.
‘Ethan!’
‘I made it myself.’
‘Home-made tiramisu! We can’t possibly eat this here.’ An impish smile spread across her face.