Page 38 of Winter at Wishington Bay
‘So, doesn’t your house feel like a home?’ Smooth, Soph. Almost seamless. Thankfully Nate complied with my obvious wish to change the subject.
‘No. Not really. It’s very on trend, apparently, not that I’d know. But it certainly doesn’t have that sense of warmth that this place has, or Holly and Gabe’s. I felt that the moment I walked in there. It was really nice.’
‘Better than a soulless hotel room after all then?’ I removed the pad and winked. At least I tried to wink but, thanks to my sore eye, it came out a lot more lecherous than I intended. ‘Ouch.’
‘Probably best not to try winking for a bit.’ Nate said, gently laying a hand on my shoulder to get me to sit back as he placed a fresh damp cotton pad on my eye.
‘It was a bit sore.’
‘And a little terrifying.’
‘Thanks.’
‘You’re welcome.’
I smiled and closed my other eye for a moment, breathing in the woody scent of his aftershave.
‘You don’t have to help with the tree, you know.’ I opened the other eye again. His expression was back to that unreadable one he’d had the first time I’d met him. ‘I mean, it’s very kind of you but I know you’ve got a deadline and stuff, and Flora is ever so good at talking people into doing things they might not want to do and then they realise when it’s all a bit late that they’ve agreed—’
‘I’d like to,’ he interrupted, thankfully, as by now I was aware I’d begun to ramble but was struggling to find a way to stop the torrent.
‘Oh.’
‘If that’s OK with you?’
‘Yes!’ Oops. Bit too enthusiastic. ‘I mean, of course. That’d be lovely. So long as you’re sure.’
‘Yeah, it’d be nice I think.’
I stole a glance at him and definitely agreed it would be nice.
‘I think this is OK now,’ I said, lifting the cotton pad. ‘We can head back down now if you like. Unless you’d like a coffee or something first?’
‘That’d be great. But show me where things are and let me do it.’
‘I’m fine, really. Stop fussing,’ I smiled at him.
He conceded but I could see the hint of reluctance. ‘Not that I don’t appreciate it,’ I said, gently. Which was true. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had someone showing concern like this and I had to admit it felt nice. No point getting used to it though.
I pushed myself up and headed to the kitchen. ‘What would you like?’
‘Whatever’s going.’
I pulled a couple of mugs out of the cupboard, plopped some coffee powder into them and flicked the kettle on to boil.
‘There might be some biscuits hiding in here somewhere,’ I said, opening a couple of cupboards before spying a packet lurking on the top shelf. ‘Can you reach those?’ I asked, as Nate easily snagged them.
‘Yep,’ he said, handing them to me.
We took the coffee and biscuits through to the lounge and sat back on the sofa.
‘How’s the book going?’
‘Good, I think. I need to thank you for giving me a kick in the pants about getting out and about more. Since I stopped moping, I’ve actually been more productive.’
‘I never said you were moping. I know you’ve been through the mill. I’m not entirely unfeeling, you know.’
‘No, I know. I didn’t mean it like that. But I am appreciative.’
