Page 34 of A Very Crumbleton Christmas
Now… he was Jack. Not Jack Jones – film star. Just Jack. The funny guy who made ridiculous speeches when he got flustered, and fake-proposed with large, plastic rings. He was Jack, who let her borrow his bathtub and made sure she didn’t just eat Pringles for tea. He was Jack – who went swimming with the snowflakes and smelled like a combination of cinnamon and saltwater.
Blowing out a long breath, Caroline tried to shake some sense into herself as she knelt down on the hearthrug. She’d quickly make sure that the fire was safe for the night, and then she’d head upstairs to her fancy-pants borrowed bed and go to sleep. With any luck, that would put a stop to all these dreamy hopes that seemed to be floating around in her head. She was under no illusions - there was only one place they could lead… disappointment.
But… well… she wasn’t ready to turn in just yet. She was wired, and giddy, and ridiculously happy. She’d just spent the perfect evening with a lovely man… and she wasn’t quite ready for the dream to come to an end. By the time the morning came, this would all be over. As soon as the snow melted, she’d have to head home.
‘And then I might never see him again,’ she sighed, glancing down at her plastic engagement ring, still glimmering on her finger where he’d placed it.
Caroline swallowed as a wave of emotion rushed through her, and she let out a little sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob.
‘Pull yourself together, woman!’ she muttered, rolling her eyes at herself, even as she gave a great sniff.
Besides – shewouldsee him again, wouldn’t she?! Because, against all odds, Jack had said yes to her insane request. He was going to swoop in and save the day and turn on the Crumbleton Christmas lights. Or… turn thembackon, she should say.
With a broad grin, Caroline opened the door of the wood burner. Instead of putting it to bed for the night, she added a large log from the stack on the hearth. She was going to make herself comfortable and re-live every single second of the best day she’d had in… hell, the best day she’deverhad!
Settling into the corner of the motheaten, cosy sofa, Caroline tucked her feet up underneath herself and let the warmth of the beautiful room wash over her. Then, realising that she didn’t have to curl up into a tight ball like she did at home, she stretched her legs out luxuriously and snuggled even further into the cushions.
Turning to stare up at the ceiling, she watched as the fire threw swirling shadows across the plaster rose. She let out a long, happy sigh. The tide must be coming in beyond the windows because the sound of the waves seemed to be getting closer. The house was blissfully still, and the crackling fire was singing her a lullaby…
Caroline woke with a start. She was lying under a heavy duvet that smelled… different. Turning over, she nearly hit the floor.
‘What the…?!’ she gasped, wrestling with a couple of cushions that had just tried to follow her.
Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and peered around, trying to get her bearings.
Of course. She was at Jack’s house… and she was still on his sofa.
‘What a waste of a four-poster!’ she yawned, cuddling the fluffy duvet to her chest.
The fire was still crackling away… but judging by the fact that daylight was creeping in around the edges of the curtains, she’d been asleep for hours.
If she was being honest, it was the best sleep she’d had in years – which was ridiculous, considering it had been on a tatty old sofa rather than between the Egyptian cotton sheets that had been waiting for her upstairs. Even so, her dreams had been full of glimmering plastic jewels, warm smiles, reading glasses, and the scent of saltwater and cinnamon.
As though she was still searching for the scent, Caroline sniffed the air. It was heavy with pine and…
‘Coffee!’ she whispered. Staring around for the source of the deliciousness, she spotted a steaming mug on a little table just out of reach.
Jack had clearly been in while she’d been asleep - maybe more than once, judging by the lovely warm duvet, the still-steaming cup of coffee and the merry, dancing flames inside the wood burner.
Please tell me I wasn’t snoring the house down?!
Caroline grabbed the cup of coffee and took a restorative sip. She sniffed the air again. It wasn’t just coffee and the scent of the Christmas tree that tickled her nose. She could smell something wonderful… something that might mean… breakfast?
Jack Jones - celebrity… early bird… chef?
Scrambling to her feet, Caroline made her way over towards the window, clutching the coffee cup to her chest like a comfort blanket. Opening the heavy curtains just a crack, she peered out. At some point during the night, it had stopped snowing. The tide had reclaimed the beach and there was no sign of its snowy blanket from the night before.
Well… that had to be a good sign, didn’t it? Either that or a really bad one. It depended on how you looked at it. On one hand, it meant that she had a good chance of getting back to Crumbleton if the roads had cleared as fast as the beach had, but on the other hand…
Caroline let out a long sigh. She couldn’t help a little twinge of disappointment that it looked like this fantasy of hers was almost over.
If the roadswereclear, there was nothing to keep her there.
Well… that being the case, she’d better go and find Jack to say thank you and goodbye.
Patting her hair with her free hand, Caroline gave her eyes a quick wipe on her cuff. It was about as much as she could do, considering she didn’t have a mirror, a brush… or a makeup bag come to that!
‘Right… time to return to reality, I guess,’ she murmured.
