Page 44 of A Chef's Kiss for Christmas
Suddenly, he was right in front of her, staring down at her with hunger in his eyes, which she’d swear had nothing to do with the food.
“I was thinking along the lines of affectionate touches.” He ran his fingers down her upper armin a way that made her breath catch. “Your friends are watching,” he said, right before he gave her a lingering kiss.
When he picked up his orange juice, she fought to get her butterflies under control, then followed him across the room. He was right that her friends were watching. When they all whipped their gazes away and fell quiet, it was clear they’d been talking about them, too.
For once, Anna didn’t mind being the subject of their conversations.
After a lively brunch, Anna and Warren fell into a comfortable silence for the drive back to Chipping Campden.
Staring out of the window, watching the rolling fields slip by, Anna reflected on how much easier the party had been with Warren there. And how much she’d enjoyed it.
“What have you got planned for this week?” he asked when they were almost back at Chipping Campden.
“I have another Christmas market next weekend,” she said. “And the online shop has been getting a steady stream of orders, so I’ll need to work on replenishing my stock – making more wreaths and candles. Oh, and I have a thing tomorrow evening…” Her stomach plummeted at the thought of the event which she’d spent the last few weeks wishing she hadn’t agreed to.
“A thing?” Warren asked, lifting an eyebrow as he slowed at the traffic lights.
She gave a small shake of her head. “A wreath-making workshop.”
“Like the one you did at the hotel last year.” He frowned. “You’re doing it again this year, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Although I wish I hadn’t agreed to it. The one tomorrow is a private party at someone’s house. It’s the woman’ssixtieth birthday, and she thought wreath-making would be fun to do with her friends. When she emailed me about it a month ago, it seemed like a good idea.”
“And it doesn’t any more?”
“No. I hate doing this stuff.”
“I thought it went really well when you did it at the hotel last year?”
“It was fine in the end, but public speaking really isn’t my thing, even when it’s a small group.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“I’ll be a nervous wreck.” Her stomach already felt queasy and would likely stay that way for the next thirty-six hours until it was over and done with. “I always think it’s unfair that Carla got all the confidence, and I got none. I’d like to be brave like her – she’s not scared of anything.”
Warren pulled the car away again, joining a queue of traffic. “I wouldn’t describe Carla as brave. Cocky and self-assured maybe, but not brave.”
“I think being cocky and self-assured makes her brave.”
He shook his head. “If nothing scares you, there’s no need to be brave. But I happen to know that Carla isn’t the least bit brave. If something scares her, she doesn’t do it.”
“Maybe,” she conceded. “I just don’t think there’s much that scares Carla.” She chewed her lip as she pondered it, but couldn’t come up with anything.
Warren grinned. “She’s scared of driving on the motorway.”
“That’s true. But I’m not sure that really has a huge impact on her life.”
“Apart from that one time it took her a week to drive to London on A roads.”
Anna laughed loudly. “It wasn’t a week.”
“Perhaps not, but it took her way longer than it needed to. She also recently called me at ten o’clock at night, freaking out about a spider in her bathroom.”
“She’s terrified of spiders,” Anna said, nodding.
“My point is that if something scares her, she avoids it. You do things even though they scare you. I think that makes you the brave one.”
She shook her head. “I’d still like to have her confidence.”
