The True Love Travels Series Box Set

by Poppy Pennington-Smith

  Lottie chuckled. “Bit of an understatement… you barely said a word to me in the whole three years we lived together.”

  Sam looked up and met her eyes, holding her gaze for a little longer than normal.

  Lottie blinked and tried to shrug off the tiny, electric flutter that had darted through her skin.

  “I’m sorry. I was… shy.” Sam shrugged and sipped his drink. “I’m different now. I promise.”

  “Well, I hope so. Because I’m relying on you to save my sanity this weekend.” Lottie sat down beside Sam and tapped her nails on the table, scratching at a water mark she’d been unable to get out.

  “Lottie… I’m thrilled to be here. But… why did you agree to it?”

  Lottie sighed, shook her hair loose from behind her ear, then tucked it back. “Honestly? I have no idea. I think I was hoping it would give me the chance to finally, I don’t know, put Richard behind me? In the past?”

  Sam shuffled in his chair. His long gangly legs were stretched out in front of him and he crossed and re-crossed his ankles. “You still… have feelings for him?”

  Lottie almost spat out her coffee. “Feelings? No! God no.” Sam definitely didn’t know about their breakup; if he did, there was no way he’d think she could harbour anything even close to feelings for Richard. “I guess what I mean is that my confidence took a hit when we broke up. You know how he can be…”

  Sam nodded. “I certainly do.”

  “I thought I’d forgotten it or grown out of it. But when I saw him at Sophie’s party, I just went right back to feeling like twenty-something-year-old Lottie.”

  “So, this weekend you want to show him that you’re all grown up and…”

  “New and improved,” Lottie laughed, “and impervious to his charming put-downs.”

  Sam smiled and put his mug down on the table. “Lottie, I–”

  Lottie frowned. Duke was standing up and half-wagging his tail. Her stomach tensed. “That must be…” Following Duke, she walked slowly to the front door, took a deep breath, and was greeted by Sophie and Richard, both grinning, both dressed as if they were arriving at a ski lodge for the weekend - big hats, big coats, gloves, scarves, and a suitcase each.

  “Lotts!” Sophie hurled herself forwards and offered an enormous hug followed by two air-kisses. “I’m so excited! Is Sam here yet? Where is he?” Leaving her suitcase on the doorstep, Sophie scurried inside and from the living room called, “Oh this is just adorable.”

  Richard tugged off his hat and tucked it under his arm. “Hiya Lottie.”

  “Richard.” She crossed her arms across her chest but stood back. “Come on in.”

  6

  Hovering in the kitchen, Lottie felt like she’d suddenly forgotten how to be a human. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, or how to stand, and her mouth was so dry that when Sophie said, “So, Lotts, what’s the plan?!” she couldn’t even begin to respond.

  Richard was leaning against the doorframe with a look on his face that was almost a smirk but not quite.

  Thankfully, Sam interjected. “Why don’t I show you guys upstairs and then Lottie can give us a run down of the options?”

  Richard nodded, slapped Sam on the back and said, “This is going to be great. Just like old times, hey buddy?”

  “Sure,” said Sam. “Just like old times.”

  Momentarily alone, Lottie gave her body a shake. The way Duke did when he needed to dislodge some anxiousness. She wriggled her shoulders, her arms, and her fingers, then shook her ankles one at a time.

  “You didn’t tell me we were having a dance party.” Sam ducked back into the room and smiled at her.

  Lottie blushed furiously and tucked her hands behind her back. “I was just…”

  “Trying to shake off the unbridled joy you felt when you saw Richard?”

  Lottie laughed. A loud, scattergun laugh that she hadn’t expected. “Oh yes. I just can’t handle the joy.”

  Sam’s eyes sparkled as he laughed back. Then he lowered his voice and said, “It’ll be okay, you know. Things are weird between you two, but Sophie’s your best friend. And I’m…” He paused and blinked quickly. Blink-blink-blink. “I’m your friend too.”

  Lottie put her hand on Sam’s forearm. His sweater was softer than she’d expected it to be. “Thank you.”

  Richard returned before Sophie, ignoring the small gruff noise that Duke made towards him and flopping down into the wooden chair nearest the range cooker. “Soph’s just freshening up.”

  “Sorry you’re in the box room, Richard.” Lottie wasn’t sorry, but she was trying to be polite.

  Richard shrugged. “You know me, Lotts. I’m not fussy about where I lay my head.”

  From beside her, Sam smiled thinly and quipped, “I should think not, some of the grim places you’ve laid your head over the years.”

  Richard laughed. “Too true, Sam. Too true.”

  Feeling a slight tug of relief that she wasn’t the sole focus of Richard’s attention, Lottie waved at the kettle and said, in her best hostess voice, “Coffee?”

  Richard smiled and shook his head. “Coffee? Absolutely not.” Then from somewhere beneath the table he produced a brown paper bag that clinked as he handed it to her.

  Lottie peeked inside. “Gin?”

  “Three different kinds. They’re from this absolutely top-notch little place near my apartment. What kind of tonic have you got?”

  Lottie had planned for this. She’d purchased some gin herself, because it had always been Sophie’s favourite tipple, and had even stretched to the fancy tonic in glass bottles. She opened the fridge and invited Richard to take a look.

  “Nice,” he muttered. “Sam? Can I tempt you?”

  “Sure. Just a small one though.”

  Richard made a pfft sound and rolled his eyes, then nudged Lottie in the ribs. “Your challenge for this evening is to somehow convince Samuel Burrows to lighten up. Not an easy task, I assure you.”

  “Oh I’m sure she’ll manage it.” Sophie’s trill voice drifted in from the hallway. “We’re doing gin? Fabulous.”

  Finally, with everyone crowded together in Lottie’s snug little lounge, drinks in hand, Lottie cleared her throat and said loudly, “So, it’s a little bit different to London around here. Our entertainment options are limited, but this weekend’s more about reconnecting than anything else – isn’t that what you said, Soph?”

  Sophie nodded, glancing at the boys and looking pleased with herself for having suggested this unlikely reunion in the first place.

  “So, I figured we don’t need to do anything too extraordinary. Tonight, I thought we’d just eat dinner and–”

  “Reminisce?” Richard chimed in.

  “Exactly. Tomorrow, I’ll show you some of the countryside and we’ll eat at the pub. Then Sunday–”

  “Sunday’s your birthday!” Sophie squeaked excitedly. “We have to do something fun on your birthday, Lotts.”

  “Well, why don’t we just see how we feel?” Lottie brushed off Sophie’s enthusiasm; she’d never been a big fan of birthdays. Being the centre of attention was Sophie’s forte, not hers.

  Sophie squeezed her knee gently. “Course. Whatever you say. I’m just so glad we’re all together.”

  Lottie returned the gesture, then looked up at the clock. “Right, well why don’t you guys put some music on and get started on your walk down memory lane… and I’ll go make dinner.”

  “What are we having, chef?” Richard took a large sip of gin and looked at her over the top of his glass.

  “Well…” The one thing Lottie was confident about was dinner. She was a good cook; everyone said so. “Sophie, do you remember that Vietnamese cooking class we took last year?”

  Sophie frowned a little then laughed. “Oh God, of course. The guy sitting next to us was a total dish. He gave me his number, I think.”

  “That’s the one.” Lottie vividly remembered that the guy, Chris, had actually turned down Sophie’s number be
cause he was engaged; the class had been a surprise for his Vietnamese fiancée. But she didn’t remind Sophie of it. “Well, I’ve been meaning to try out the spring rolls ever since. So, we’re having fancy Vietnamese spring rolls, pho soup, caramelised pork, and noodles.”

  “That sounds amazing.” Sam moved his hand to his stomach. “My belly’s rumbling just thinking about it. Do you need a hand?”

  “No, no. I’m good. You three make yourselves at home.” Lottie motioned for Sam to stay sitting and, sashaying slightly as she pictured the feast she was about to prepare, returned to the kitchen.

  She had just dropped the spring rolls into a smoking-hot pan of oil when a guffaw of laughter broke out behind her and Richard appeared, brandishing an empty glass and gesturing for a refill.

  “Sounds like you’re having fun in there,” Lottie said as she topped up his drink.

  “I forgot how droll Sam can be. Absolutely has me in stitches.”

  “Mmm. I didn’t really realise he was funny.” Lottie folded her arms in front of her chest and leaned back against the counter.

  “Listen, Lottie…” Richard lowered his voice conspiratorially. His jaw was still ridiculously perfectly formed, and his hair unnaturally well styled. Ten years ago, Lottie had found herself utterly in awe of his good looks; after he’d asked her out, on the first day of their second year at Durham, she’d been convinced that he’d done it as some kind of bet. But now, his movie-star level handsomeness almost seemed to be working in reverse, somehow making him less attractive. “Thanks for agreeing to all of this. Hopefully, we’ll have chance to talk. The two of us?” He was standing uncomfortably close, and Lottie noticed his hand moving as if he was going to touch her on the elbow or the shoulder.

  “I’m not sure we have much to talk about.” The words came out completely and wonderfully unexpectedly, and Lottie had to stop herself from smiling as Richard blinked at her, taken aback.

  For a moment, he just looked at her. And then he leaned back on the table and waved his glass at the room. “It’s a nice place you’ve got here, Lotts. Very you.”

  “Thanks. It was my gran’s.”

  “Ah, of course. Wow, that was a bit of a windfall for you, wasn’t it? Wish I had an elderly relative tucked away waiting to leave me a house.” He laughed and rolled the ice cubes around his glass. As they chinked against one another, Lottie’s entire body tensed and, at her sides, her fists clenched so hard that her fingernails began to dig into her palms.

  “I bought it, actually. From my parents.”

  Richard raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Really.” Lottie wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his remark had bothered her. Not this time.

  “Lottie?”

  “Yes?”

  “I think your pan is on fire.” Richard was smiling, so for a second Lottie didn’t take him seriously. But then her nostrils flared and she smelled the smoke. And by the time she’d turned around the entire pan was in flames.

  “The oil!” Lottie had no idea what to do. Above her, the smoke alarm started screeching. And then Sam and Sophie hurtled into the room shouting above the noise, “What’s going on?”

  “The oil got too hot.” Lottie was reaching for a jug and filling it with water, but then Sam was there and he was grabbing it from her.

  “Not water, Lottie. It’ll make it worse. We just need to choke it out.” Sam looked over his shoulder towards the back door, simultaneously grabbing the pan lid and slamming it down on top of the flames. “Unlock the door,” he said, reaching for the oven gloves and taking hold of the pan’s long silver handle.

  Lottie bolted to the door and pushed it open.

  “Step back.” Sam waved her out of his way, then grabbed the pan and in just a few strides marched it outside and set it down on the paving slabs. The glow of the flames, now contained beneath the glass lid, slowly began to fade.

  Lottie was shaking. “I’m so sorry,” she breathed. “Thank you. If you hadn’t been here…”

  Sam put his arm around her and pulled her close. “It’s alright. These things happen. No one was hurt.”

  “But if I’d thrown water on it…” Lottie shook her head and her hair fell in front of her face. “I should have known – I mean, doesn’t everyone know that?”

  “You panicked. That’s all.” Sam glanced back at the cottage. “No harm’s done.”

  “Except dinner’s ruined.”

  Behind her, Sophie emerged from the kitchen making an exaggerated throat-clearing noise and glaring at the pan. But when she saw Lottie’s face, she wrapped her into a giant hug and chortled, “For goodness sake, Lotts. There are other ways to add drama to the evening.”

  Lottie leaned into her friend and tried to blink away the tears that were threatening to spill over her cheeks at any moment. Beside her, Duke leaned against her leg and nuzzled in, clearly bemused as to why they were all suddenly outside when it was freezing cold and almost raining.

  Always one to see the positives in a situation, Sophie clapped her hands together and said, “You know what, it’s not fair for you to be spending all evening cooking for us anyway. We’ll just order take out. Yes?”

  Sam agreed and took out his phone. “Where’s good nearby, Lottie?”

  Lottie looked towards the garden gate, as if a Chinese Takeaway might have magically appeared at the end of the lane. “Guys, we’re miles away from a take away. No one delivers out here.”

  “No one?” Sophie frowned as if she couldn’t quite believe they were so far away from civilisation.

  “What about shops? Is there somewhere we could buy pizzas or something?”

  “There’s a corner shop in the next village. They do frozen pizzas,” Lottie offered weakly.

  “Great,” Sam reached into his pocket and took out his car key. “I’ve barely had anything to drink. I’ll drive us.”

  Sophie smiled at Lottie and patted her arm. “That’s settled then. Sam saves the day… twice.”

  7

  “I let him get to me,” Lottie said, intertwining her fingers and looking out at the darkness beyond the windows of Sam’s Audi.

  “Richard?”

  “Mmm hmm. He caught me off guard. I was doing so well, but somehow he’s always known exactly what to say to me to make me unravel.”

  Sam’s fingers drummed against the steering wheel. “He’s good at spotting peoples’ weaknesses. I think it’s a defence mechanism.”

  “You’re defending him?” Lottie felt her voice go up in pitch.

  Sam glanced at her. “Haven’t you noticed that he does it when he feels threatened? Insecure? If he feels like he’s top-dog he’s all smiles and jokes, but say something to threaten his ego and…”

  Lottie bit her lower lip. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

  “I’m not excusing it.” Sam looked straight ahead, dimming his headlights as a car sped past them going in the opposite direction.

  “Is that why you and Richard aren’t friends any more? Because you see through him?”

  “I suppose.” Sam changed gear and slowed as they met a sharp bend in the road. “When I first met him, I was this gangly shy teenager who hadn’t even been on a football team before.” Sam shook his head at himself. “To be honest, I couldn’t believe my luck when he took me under his wing. I finally felt like I was one of the cool kids.”

  “He’s very good at making people feel that way.” Lottie fidgeted her hands in her lap.

  “But when you start to outgrow him, he changes… the more confident I felt in myself, the more snide remarks and sarcastic comments I had to put up with. In the end, I couldn’t be bothered with it any more.”

  “And it doesn’t bother you now? When he tries to make you feel… small.” Lottie’s voice shrank as she said the words, and she studied Sam’s face carefully as he responded.

  “No,” he said. “It doesn’t.”

  “Why not?” Lottie had tried so hard not to let him bother her, but som
ehow he still knew exactly how to weed himself under her skin and make her feel… less than him.

  Sam winced a little. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding completely arrogant…”

  “I won’t hold it against you,” Lottie said, smiling.

  “Well, I guess I just know that I don’t have to put other people down to make myself feel good. I have great friends, a successful career, a great apartment, a nice car… I’m totally content with my life. So, there’s nothing he can say really to make me feel otherwise.”

  Lottie sighed and looked away. What Sam was really saying was that his wealth made him able to stand up to Richard. He was more successful than Richard. He had more money than Richard. But Lottie didn’t.

  “You should feel that way too,” Sam said as they pulled up outside the corner shop.

  “Really? Have you seen my car?” Lottie grimaced self-deprecatingly.

  “I have. And, you’re right, it’s barely fit for the scrap heap,” Sam laughed kindly. “But you’re one-hundred times more fulfilled and successful in your career than Richard would ever know how to be. You’ve got more talent in your little finger than he’s got in his entire body. Well, more than any of us have, actually.”

  Lottie was blushing furiously and wishing that the interior lights hadn’t come on when Sam turned the engine off.

  “You’re an amazing artist. And, more than that, what you do actually touches peoples’ lives. There are kids out there who read your books and look at your pictures… and they’ll remember them forever. They’ll grow up and share your books with their own little families. And that is incredible.” Sam stopped talking and blinked quickly, as if he’d surprised himself by saying so much, so passionately.

  Lottie was grinning, but she couldn’t help it. “Thank you, Sam. Thank you for saying that.”

  Sam nodded and rubbed the back of his neck with the palm of his hand. “Right,” he said. “Pizza?”

  “Pizza.”