Page 70 of Jingle Bells in June
Laughing, we both reach for the door handle at the sametime, and his warm hand closes around mine and stays there. Locking eyes again,we move in unison, bridging the gap between us, and then we’re kissing –achingly gentle kisses at first, which only increases the burning longinginside me. Then he pulls me hard against him, telling me without words that hispowerful desire is a match for mine.
His hands are caressing my waist... thehollow at the base of my back... and my hands move over thefine fabric of his shirt, caressing the hard muscles of his chest. And then ourkisses deepen. I wind my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, loving thefeel of his body pressed against me as all the pent-up passion and emotionbetween us explodes in this ecstatic embrace, and my head spins away to thestars in ecstasy...
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FIVE
‘There’s a prize for whoever spots it first.’
‘A prize?’ Smiling, I glance over at Aidan as we get out ofthe car and start making our way over to the gallery. ‘What’s the prize?’
He takes my hand and kisses it, grinning wickedly at me. ‘Iwas going to say a night with me. But that won’t work if I win, will it?’
I laugh. ‘A night with you is old hat, anyway. Not much of aprize.’
‘Hey, you.’ He slaps my bottom and I shriek, and he pulls meagainst him, his arms tightly around me. We stand there, in the middle of thecar park, laughing into each other’s eyes – until someone toots their horn sowe have to move.
‘Has this place got a café?’ he asks as we enter thebuilding.
‘They do, actually. Why are you so obsessed with cake?’
‘Hardly surprising when your girlfriend works in a placelike the Little Duck Pond Café.’
‘I like that.’ I smile at him.
‘What?’
‘When you call me your girlfriend.’
‘You’d have been my girlfriend a lot sooner if you’d told methe truth right from the start.’
‘But would I, though?’ I frown at him. ‘If I’d mentioned itright at the start, you’d have been angry and that would have been that. Youwouldn’t have got to know me. So you wouldn’t have found out what a lovely andwell-intentioned person I actually am.’
‘And modest?’ Grinning, he moves closer, nuzzling my neck,and a quiver of longing flits through me.
I still can’t believe that Aidan and I are finally together.It seems nothing short of a miracle, considering everything that’s happened.But one thing’s for sure. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.
There’s only one thing that would make things perfect – hearingfrom Rachel and Poppy. Even a text, telling me they’re both fine, would set mymind at rest and stop me worrying. For a little while, at least. But as Aidansays, there’s nothing I can do, short of combing every street in Aberdeen inthe hope of tracking them down – so I need to trust that they’re fine and thatone day, when I’m least expecting it, I’ll hear from them again.
It’s hard, though. This morning, I received a letter in thepost with what I thought was Rachel’s handwriting on the envelope. My heart wasbeating so fast as I opened it. But it wasn’t from her and Poppy at all. It wasa receipt from the gift shop owner in Brighton, and I felt savagelydisappointed.
‘Café first?’ suggests Aidan.
I shake my head. ‘Crockery hunt first. And whoever spots itfirst buys the cake!’
‘Fair enough. Right, the challenge is on.’ He leaves my sideand takes the stairs up to the first floor, two at a time, waving back at me.And smiling, I follow him up there.
The gallery, situated a few miles from Sunnybrook in abeautiful country setting, is full of beautiful paintings and prints, andquirky gifts made by locals artists.
Reaching the first floor, I find what I’m looking for almostimmediately, and I beckon Aidan over with a triumphant smile.
He walks over and I point. ‘Here it is. I think that meansyou’re buying the cake.’
‘Wow.’ He shakes his head, gazing in admiration at the gleamingblue and white ceramic plates and bowls, mugs and toast racks. ‘They lookamazing.’
‘I like the way they’re displayed, with that light behindthem catching the glaze,’ I murmur. ‘Do you like the name?’ I point at thelittle card.
‘The Kirby Collection.’ He grins. ‘I’m flattered. I’ve neverhad anything named after me.’
As we head for the café, Aidan takes my hand, squeezes itand says, ‘I have a feeling you’re going to need a bigger studio, kiddo. Youcan’t keep working out of a garden shed if the business keeps expanding.’
