Page 14 of Just the Beginning

‘Hi, Freya.’ Anya didn’t miss the way he automatically matched her soft tone. ‘Wow, I love your room, and especially the lights. It’s so pretty and cosy.’

‘Green is my favourite colour,’ Freya said as the dancing lights shifted colour and the room transformed into an underwater world.

‘It’s my favourite too,’ Rick replied, pointing to his bottle-green and white checked shirt. ‘Well. I don’t want to interrupt your story, I just wanted to wish you goodnight.’

‘G’night.’ The end of the word was swallowed in a big yawn.

‘Sleep tight,’ Anya said as she gestured for Rick to move back and the pair of them edged out of the room. ‘I’m right here if you need anything.’ She pulled the door almost closed and smiled at Rick.

‘Thanks for that.’

‘No worries.’

Once again she was surprised at how much space he seemed to take up. As though realising he was looming over her, Rick backed away towards the sofa.

‘Dinner will be ready in a few minutes if you’re ready to eat? Sorry it’s not anything fancy, just a pasta bake.’ Anya moved over to the fridge and pulled out the bag of grated cheese. She set it on the counter next to the oven then looked around for her oven gloves. She could’ve sworn she’d just had them…

‘Looking for these?’

She turned to find Rick holding a cushion in one hand and the oven gloves in the other.Way to look like a complete fool, Anya. ‘How on earth did they get over there?’ She remembered putting the pasta in the oven then noticing the sofa was still a mess from where Freya had decided to build a den using the cushions and the throw Anya had draped over the back.

Dropping the cushion, Rick walked over, pausing at the table to pick up the bottle of cordial on his way past. ‘Here.’ He handed her the gloves. ‘Shall I pour us both a drink?’

‘Oh, yes, that would be great. There’s glasses in the cupboard to your left, and if you wouldn’t mind grabbing some cutlery from the drawer in front of you?’

‘Of course not.’

While he did that, Anya opened the oven, leaning back to avoid the blast of fragrant steam.

‘Smells good,’ Rick said as she lifted out the bake and sprinkled the top with cheese.

She smiled at him, then hesitated with her hand in the bag. ‘Enough, or a bit more?’ she asked him.

‘Is there even such a thing as too much cheese?’

How did he always manage to know exactly the right thing to say? She scooped out another large handful and added it to the top of the dish. ‘A man after my own heart.’

9

A man after my own heart. Rick knew it was nothing more than a throwaway phrase used by thousands of people every day, but something about it struck home. Never a truer word spoken in jest was another one of those phrases, though surely Anya could have no idea he’d been nursing a crush on her for more years than was sensible. Of course she couldn’t. There was no way she’d have invited him over if she had so much as a sneaking suspicion of his feelings.

Rick’s hand shook a little and some of the cordial spilled on the counter. He quickly finished filling the glass then looked around for something to mop up the mess. A cloth rested on the corner of the sink and he wiped the counter and the base of the glass before rinsing the cloth under the tap and squeezing it out. ‘I’ll take these over to the table before I make any more mess,’ he said, shooting an apologetic look at Anya as he gathered the glasses and cutlery and beat a quick retreat.

While she busied herself with plates and putting things back in the fridge, Rick grabbed the folder she’d left on the coffee table and pulled out the sheaf of paper he’d tucked insideand pretended to thumb through it. The only reason he was here was to sort out the details of her job. Everything else was just background noise, and as for these supposed feelings for her? What even were they other than the echoes of his lovelorn teenage self? He didn’t know this Anya, not really. She seemed nice enough, but she had enough baggage to fill the hold of a bus. Not that any of it was her fault, but still, her life had been turned upside down in the worst possible way. What she needed was a friend, nothing more.

Personal pep talk over, Rick put the paper back in the folder and set it aside, raising his head to smile as Anya approached with a tray. ‘Here you go.’

‘Looks fantastic, thanks.’ He rested the tray on his lap and waited until Anya had fetched her own and taken a seat in the chair opposite. Picking up the cutlery, he handed a fork and spoon to her then used the fork he’d kept to stir through the delicious-smelling pasta. He took a bite and his stomach gave a little growl of appreciation. ‘This is great.’

Anya gave him a shy smile. ‘It’s nothing really, just whatever I had to hand. My, umm, my budget is a little compromised at the moment.’

‘If this is what you can put together without trying, then I might need some tips. I’ve said I’ll cook dinner for my folks and my brothers later this month.’ He wasn’t a bad cook, just a little lacking in imagination.

‘I’d be happy to go through my recipe books after we’ve eaten. I’m sure we can find something that’ll work. Do you have any particular preferences?’

Rick’s expression turned rueful. ‘I honestly haven’t had time to think about it, it was kind of a spur of the moment suggestion. I’ve been busy lately and felt a bit like I was taking Mum and Dad’s hospitality for granted.’

‘You’re still at home, then?’

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