by Kate Hardy
‘Okay. Thanks again for today,’ he said.
‘My pleasure.’
‘Seriously—you saved my bacon and you make Sienna happy. It’s good to see her laughing.’
‘She’d be like this with Cindy.’ Sophie paused and looked him straight in the eye. ‘And with her grandparents.’
Not his own parents. He couldn’t imagine them dancing or singing. ‘Fran’s parents live quite a way away.’
‘And you have guest rooms,’ she pointed out. ‘They could stay for the weekend. Or midweek. Whatever works for you all.
‘I...’ He sighed. He knew she saw right through him and she’d counter any excuse she made. ‘You’re right. It’s an excuse. But every time I look at Fran’s mother, I see Fran.’
‘And it hurts? I get that,’ she said. ‘But there has to be a point where the good memories start to take over. When you start to remember Fran with smiles instead of tears. Would she have wanted you and Sienna to be miserable for the rest of your lives?’
‘No,’ he admitted.
‘Then think about it. Sienna needs more than just you and Cindy in her life,’ she said gently. ‘And, take it from me, it’s lovely to see your parents playing with the generation below yours, singing the same songs you remember them singing to you and telling the same terrible jokes.’
‘What if you don’t remember your parents singing to you and telling you jokes?’ The words came out before he could stop them.
She reached up to stroke his face. ‘That’s when you get to teach them how to do it. How to loosen up and have fun.’
Even Fran hadn’t been able to make him loosen up totally, so Jamie knew he didn’t have a chance in hell of making his parents loosen up. Even now, despite heading towards the age when they really ought to retire and enjoy their lives, they were still focused on work and the business, and he was really glad he’d struck out on his own rather than agreeing to take over from them—because he was pretty sure neither of them intended to retire. ‘Maybe,’ he said, trying to be diplomatic.
But her hand was still against his face. His skin tingled where she touched him. How could he resist twisting his head slightly so he could press a kiss into her palm?
Her dark eyes widened—with shock or desire? he wondered.
He wanted to kiss her properly.
But it was too soon. Instead, he took her hand and folded her fingers over the place where he’d kissed her. ‘Goodnight, Sophie. See you tomorrow,’ he said.
‘Tomorrow,’ she said. Was it his imagination, or was her voice slightly husky?
* * *
Sophie was glad she was driving, because it meant she had to concentrate on the way to her brother and sister-in-law’s instead of letting herself dream about Jamie Wallis and brooding over the way he’d kissed her palm. She managed to sidestep all mentions of Jamie when she was sitting in their living room, drinking tea and enjoying their company. But all too soon she was back in her flat and the pictures in her head wouldn’t go away.
What would it be like if Jamie kissed her properly? Kissed her like a lover?
She shivered. This was a bad idea. He was vulnerable; he was still hurting over his wife’s death to the point where he had trouble spending time with anyone who reminded him of Fran. And even though she knew that Jamie wouldn’t lie to her and cheat on her, the way Dan and Joe had, she still thought anything more than a professional relationship between them would be a disaster.
The problem was, when he’d kissed her palm, she’d almost stepped forward and kissed his mouth.
Jamie Wallis was gorgeous with a capital G.
And she really would have to keep reminding herself that he was off limits.
* * *
Over the next few days Sophie and Sienna started making things to prepare for Christmas. An advent calendar with pockets for little gifts, which Sophie planned to pick up at the same time that her sister-in-law bought gifts for her own advent calendars for Hattie and Sam; home-made decorations for the Christmas tree, painting yogurt pots with metallic paint and sprinkling glitter on them and making a hanging loop from a tinsel pipe cleaner; and a home-made photo frame made from macaroni stuck onto cardboard and covered with spray paint.
Jamie discovered ‘stained glass windows’ on various windows around the house, made from black sugar paper with shapes cut out and coloured tissue paper stuck over the gaps to create the ‘stained glass’. And there was a painting of a Christmas tree made out of handprints, and an angel with wings made out of handprints—all things that he knew Fran would’ve enjoyed doing with their daughter. Things he wouldn’t even know how to start doing.
And every day his daughter came more and more out of her shell, laughing and smiling and responding to Sophie’s warmth.
He really wasn’t sure whether he was more charmed or terrified by it. But everything in his house felt different. Better.
How could Sophie have changed everything so much in three short weeks?
And where did they go from here?
* * *
On Saturday afternoon, Sophie and Jamie took Sienna to the Natural History Museum.
‘I can remember coming here with my parents when I was tiny,’ Sophie said. ‘My brothers were dinosaur-mad. They loved it here. Whenever Mum asked us where we wanted to go for an afternoon out, Matt and Will always wanted to come here.’
‘What about you?’ he asked.
‘Oh, me, too. My favourite was the triceratops because of its frilly neck. And we all nagged and nagged to go to Lyme Regis on holiday, in case we found a dinosaur on the beach.’
‘Did you really find a dinosaur?’ Sienna asked, her eyes wide.
‘No, but we did find some fossils.’ She smiled. ‘I still have the first ammonite I ever found.’
‘What’s a nammo...?’ Sienna stumbled over the name.
‘An ammonite was a sea creature with a spiral shell, a bit like a snail’s shell but bigger,’ Sophie explained. ‘I can show you one here.’
They wandered round the exhibition together, and Sophie came out with a stream of terrible dinosaur jokes. ‘Sienna, what do you call a sleeping dinosaur?’
‘I don’t know,’ Sienna said, playing along.
‘A Stego-snorus!’ Sophie told her with a grin.
And when they got to the scary animatronic Tyrannosaurus Rex and Sienna started to look worried, Sophie squeezed her hand. ‘Which dinosaur had to wear glasses?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Is Daddy going to guess?’
‘Nope,’ Jamie said.
‘You’re going to groan,’ she warned. ‘Wait for it... The Tyrannosaurus Specs!’
But she saved her most terrible one until last. ‘Where does a Triceratops sit?’ When Sienna shook her head, Sophie grinned. ‘On its Tricera-bottom!’
The joke had Sienna giggling like mad, and even Jamie couldn’t help smiling.
‘You can blame my mum for those,’ she said with a grin. ‘She’s the one who taught me them.’
Jamie couldn’t remember his mother—or his father—ever telling a joke, much less the sort that a child would appreciate. He pushed the thought away. He didn’t have to be like his parents. He was pretty sure that his sisters weren’t like their parents—even though he hadn’t seen either of his sisters for months, using the excuse that they lived just too far away. But Sophie had shown him that all he had to do was to be himself.
In one of the exhibition rooms, they found themselves in a queue where they were slightly squished together, just as it had been last week; and it felt natural to Jamie to slide his arm round Sophie’s shoulder and hold her close, protecting her from the squash. She didn’t pull away, and even when the queue thinned out again her fingers ended up curling round his.
Maybe this was the way forward. B
aby steps negotiated quietly, instead of big declarations.
When Sienna had had her fill of the museum, they found a family-friendly restaurant. ‘It’s my turn to pay, so don’t argue,’ he informed Sophie outside the restaurant.
‘Okay. Thank you.’
And it really felt like a family meal out. He noticed the way Sophie was with his daughter, encouraging her and drawing her out, and Sienna responded to Sophie’s warmth. He was aware that it was the same for him, too; part of him was flustered by his growing feelings for her, but part of him wanted more. Much more.
Back at the house, she made coffee while he settled Sienna in bed, and was curled up on a corner of the sofa, doing something on her phone, when he came downstairs.
‘Hey.’ He sat next to her and took her hand.
She looked wary. ‘I thought we agreed last week that this would be a bad idea.’
‘It is,’ he said. ‘But I can’t stop thinking about you. And I’ve got a feeling it might be the same for you.’ Because otherwise why had they ended up holding hands in the museum, earlier that day?
She blew out a breath. ‘I’m rubbish at relationships, and you’re vulnerable.’
Both statements were true; but both things could be changed. ‘So maybe we should just muddle through this together and see how it works out,’ he said. ‘Humour me.’
‘Humour you, how?’ she asked.
‘Like this,’ he said, and leaned over to brush his mouth against hers. Just once. Not demanding, not threatening, just letting her know how he felt. Leaving the next move to her.
* * *
Sophie couldn’t remember the last time someone had kissed her properly.
She certainly couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her knees feel weak in two seconds flat.
And that kiss, even though it had been sweet and gentle and had left the next move up to her, had made every nerve-end in her lips tingle.
‘We can’t do this,’ she said, resting her palm against his face.
Big mistake. Now her hand was tingling as much as her mouth. And she wanted to slide her hand into his hair and draw his face down to hers. Kiss him back.
‘This is a really bad idea,’ he said, his voice deep and husky and sexy as hell.
His mouth was saying one thing, but his eyes were saying something different. Tempting her to kiss him back, to hold him.
She wasn’t sure which of them moved first, but then somehow she was sitting on his lap, his arms were wrapped round her, her hands were in his hair and his mouth was jammed against hers.
When Jamie broke the kiss, Sophie couldn’t speak. All her words, her protests, her common sense had been driven clean out of her head.
‘This is insane,’ she said at last.
‘Absolutely,’ he agreed, and ran the pad of his thumb along her lower lip.
The next thing she knew, her lips had parted and he was kissing her again. As if he was trying to be sensible but he just couldn’t resist her.
Which was how it felt when she kissed him back. He was irresistible.
‘You... I... This is all too complicated,’ she said.
He stroked her hair. ‘Or maybe it’s simple. Maybe it’s just about you and me.’
‘What about Sienna? What about Plans & Planes? What about...?’ Her words dried up as he caught her lower lip gently between his teeth.
And then she stopped thinking and kissed him again.
‘Sienna doesn’t need to know about this until we’re ready to tell her,’ he said when she broke the kiss. ‘And we’re both sensible enough to keep business and personal separate. Whatever this thing is between us, it has nothing to do with business.’
‘Agreed.’
‘I don’t know where this is going. I don’t know what I can offer you. Part of me is scared because I’m used to being in control of my thoughts and my feelings,’ he admitted. ‘But I like the way you make me feel. And I don’t want that to stop.’
Sophie had thought everything was simple with Joe and with Dan—and it had turned out to be nastily complicated. So maybe Jamie was right about this thing between them and this was the complete opposite: it looked complicated at first glance, but at heart it was simple.
‘So we take this day by day,’ she said. ‘No promises.’
‘Sounds good to me.’ He kissed her again. ‘And nobody else needs to know, until we’ve worked out what we’re doing.’
‘Agreed.’
‘I haven’t felt like this in a very long time,’ he said softly.
‘Me neither.’
‘So we’ll take it slowly,’ he said, and gently set her back off his lap and on the sofa next to him.
Kissing. Holding hands. Sort-of dating.
‘I feel like a teenager,’ she confessed.
‘Me, too.’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘Until Cindy’s back at work, I can’t date you the way I’d like to. I can’t take you dancing, or out to dinner, or any of the more traditional things.’
‘That’s okay. I’ve been enjoying what we do with Sienna.’ She gave him a sidelong glance. ‘And we can do dancing here.’
‘Is that an offer of a slow dance, or what you were doing with her in front of that movie?’
She groaned. ‘Don’t tell me you saw that?’
‘Yup,’ he said with a smile. ‘You both looked happy. As if you were having fun.’
‘We were. Next time, you ought to join us,’ she said.
‘Maybe I will. The next rainy Sunday afternoon.’ He stole another kiss. ‘And when it’s a rainy Sunday night and Sienna’s asleep, then it’s just you and me dancing. To something slow and sweet.’
‘I’ll hold you to that,’ she said. She kissed him again, then stood up. ‘And I need to go.’ While she still could.
* * *
On Sunday morning, Jamie had a project meeting, so Sophie picked Sienna up and took her to the park to meet up with her sister-in-law, niece and nephew.
‘This is my niece Hattie, who’s the same age as you, and her little brother Sam,’ Sophie introduced them. ‘And this is their mum, Mandy.’
‘Hello,’ Sienna said shyly.
‘Let’s go on the swings,’ Hattie said, taking her hand.
Sienna glanced at Sophie for direction, and Sophie smiled and inclined her head.
Hattie immediately started chatting to her, and Sophie followed with Mandy and Sam.
‘She clearly adores you,’ Mandy said, ‘and from the look on her face it’s obvious you adore her.’
‘She’s a lovely little girl,’ Sophie said.
‘Even so. Be careful,’ Mandy warned.
‘I know. He’s off limits. My business partner.’ Sophie had explained the situation to Mandy just after she’d agreed to be Sienna’s temporary nanny. ‘And he’s vulnerable. He was widowed really young, remember.’
‘From what you’ve told me over the last couple of weeks,’ Mandy said thoughtfully, ‘it sounds to me as if you’re falling in love with both him and Sienna.’
Sophie had a nasty feeling that her sister-in-law was right, but shook her head. ‘I’ve learned my lesson after Dan and Joe. I’m not going to lose my heart to anyone ever again.’
‘Just be careful, that’s all,’ Mandy said. ‘I don’t want to see you hurt again.’
‘I promise,’ Sophie said, crossing her fingers surreptitiously behind her back. She certainly wasn’t going to tell Mandy about the hand-holding yesterday and the kissing last night.
The little girls insisted on going on every single piece of equipment in the park, from the swings to the see-saw to the slides and the bouncy chickens on enormous springs. Sophie took pictures on her phone of the little girls on the slide together, and another one of herself and Sienna at the top of the big slide,
holding hands and ready to zoom down to the bottom.
And when they were finally done and Sam was starting to get just a little bit grizzly, they went to the café at the edge of the park for brunch.
‘Pancakes and milkshake for me, please,’ Hattie said before they’d even looked at the menu.
‘And me, please,’ Sienna added.
‘Pancakes!’ Sam beamed at them.
‘Pancakes all round, I think,’ Mandy said with a smile. ‘Sophie, a cappuccino for you?’
‘Yes, please.’ Sophie stood up and patted her shoulder. ‘I’ll go and sort it all out if you don’t mind staying here with the children.’
The café had colour-in menus, and the girls had just finished colouring them in neatly, while Sam scribbled exuberantly over his, when their drinks and a stack of pancakes arrived.
‘I think the girls have just found their new best friend,’ Mandy said quietly to Sophie. ‘If Jamie’s okay with it, maybe Sienna would like to come and play over at our place next weekend.’
‘I’ll check with him and let you know, but I can’t see a problem,’ Sophie said. ‘It’s nice that they get on so well.’
After a second round of milkshakes and coffee, they headed for home.
Sienna was quiet, and Sophie assumed she’d tired herself out at the park and had fallen asleep in the car. But when she glanced at the little girl, she realised that Sienna was crying silently.
‘Sweetie, what’s wrong?’ she asked.
‘I wish I had a mummy like Hattie does,’ Sienna said, sniffing.
‘Oh, darling. I know it’s been hard for you.’ And then Sophie realised she hadn’t even seen a photograph of Fran in the house. She was going to have to tackle Jamie about this, even if it meant wrecking the fragile beginnings of what was happening between them. She could tell Sienna until she was blue in the face that her mother had loved her dearly, but without physical proof—photographs and videos—the little girl’s doubts would remain. ‘But your dad loves you very, very much.’ And he was going to get a lot better at showing it, if Sophie had anything to do with it.
