Page 47 of The Promise of Home

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‘Thanks for tonight—’

‘I’d love a cup of coffee,’ he said, almost simultaneously, and this time when their eyes met they burst out laughing.

‘I’m not very good at this,’ she said with a shake of her head.

‘You’re better than you think you are.’ His hand captured hers and she relaxed a little. ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

That surprised her, prompting her to ask, ‘What makes you think you will?’

‘Because I saw the way you reacted at the beach earlier when I said I’d be leaving soon, and at the risk of sounding conceited and reading the situation totally wrong, you looked disappointed.’

That was the thing about people their age. No BS. He might be nineteen years older but her tolerance for bullshit had lowered around the time she hit forty and it hadn’t improved. She liked it usually—unlike now, when it put her on the spot.

‘I’ve always been easy to read,’ she said with a shrug. But he wasn’t buying her cool act, his steady gaze never leaving her face as he tried to figure her out. ‘And you’re right, I was disappointed. But we’ve been on two dates and hardly know each other, so I have no right to be.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with falling for someone quickly.’

This time, he raised her hand to his mouth and brushed featherlight kisses across her knuckles, making her throb with longing. If he could do that to her with a few butterfly kisses, imagine how good the rest would be …

But she couldn’t turn off her logic just yet, no matter how badly she wanted to drag him out of the car and do him on the bonnet. ‘Just to clarify. When you asked to come in for coffee, are you after a caffeine fix?’

His slow, easy smile with a hint of wickedness ratcheted up the heat between them. ‘That depends.’

‘On?’

‘Whether you want to keep me up all night.’

They laughed again and Heidi marvelled at the ease between them, as if theywerediscussing sharing a cuppa and not him staying the night. She could hedge and second-guess this decision all she liked but it wouldn’t change facts. If she sent him away now, she’d be the one up all night and not in a good way, chastising herself for making a huge mistake.

So before she could change her mind, she said, ‘I’d love you to come in for coffee.’

Two hours later, Heidi sat at her kitchen table cradling a cup of hot chocolate, watching the marshmallows bobbing on the top. She needed the distraction, because if she kept staring at Jem whipping up scrambled eggs, he’d think she was a weirdo. It wasn’t her fault. She’d never had a man cook for her before and it was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.

‘Heidi?’

She glanced up, unable to keep a smug grin from spreading across her face as she caught sight of him wearing her oldest robe, a pale blue chenille that barely tied in the middle on him. That’s what the best sex of her life did to a woman. Not that it had been easy. It took Jem longer to get an erection and maintain it, but it hadn’t mattered, because he’d pleasured her in ways she’d never thought possible.

‘Yeah?’

‘Do you have fresh chillies?’

‘No, but there’s a jar of chilli flakes in the cupboard to the right above your head.’

‘Got it.’ He winked and turned back to his scrambled eggs, leaving her time to ponder their connection.

Sleeping with Jem had been nothing like her hook-ups with younger men on Happy. Those encounters had been quick and satisfying, but not one had left her with this afterglow, like she’d had an hour-long soak in a warm bath. Every inch of her body, from the tips of her toes to the top of her head, prickled with an awareness she’d never experienced before. It might have something to do with Jem kissing every one of those inches and she’d returned the favour, surprised by her boldness when she usually let the man take the lead in the bedroom. It had been empowering and sexy at the same time.

‘Done,’ he said, switching off the stove and shovelling scrambled eggs onto slices of buttered toast on two plates. ‘I guarantee these will be the best eggs you’ve ever had.’

‘I like a man who boasts about his prowess,’ she deadpanned as he placed a plate in front of her and pulled up a chair alongside her.

‘I’ll keep that in mind.’ He winked and she smiled, loving their easy banter, a small part of her resentful she’d had to reach fifty to meet a man like this.

Would her life have been different if she’d married someone like Jem rather than Bert? A ludicrous thought, as Bert had been her choice at the time. And while Bert had been a good man, she knew that life decisions made in her late teens would’ve changed if she’d waited another decade at least to get married.

‘Everything okay?’

She blinked, dispelling the questions plaguing her, and nodded. ‘Just thinking how lovely it is to have someone cook for me.’


Tags: Nicola Marsh Romance