Page 41 of A Cornish Winter's Kiss

‘I’m not talking about my dad, I’m talking about us.’ Jude was still looking at her, and all the things she’d told herself about not making a move went out of her head. The garlic naan that was supposed to remind her that kissing him again was a stupid idea probably hadn’t even made it to the oven yet.

‘I’m willing to take a risk if you are.’ Emily held her breath, wondering just how quickly she could scoop Gary Barlow up and run out into the night if Jude told her she’d got the wrong end of the stick. But when he moved towards her, she couldn’t have stopped herself from leaning into him if her life had depended on it. This time, nothing interrupted the kiss, and she didn’t want it to stop. Her hands were in his hair, and then suddenly they were moving down to the buttons of his shirt.

‘We don’t have to rush any of this.’ Jude put his hand over hers for a moment, and it crossed her mind that he might be trying to stop things again, until he made it clear how he felt. ‘I mean, I want to.God,I want to, but I want to be sure that you do too.’

‘I couldn’t be more certain, but I think we should stop talking now that we’ve cleared that up.’ There were other things she’d far rather do with her lips, and she pulled his face towards hers again, kissing him in a way that would leave him in no doubt that she meant what she’d said. He was right that there was a risk to what they were doing, but some risks were worth taking and she was certain this was one of them.

18

Jude had woken up early. He wasn’t used to sharing a bed with someone, but opening his eyes to see Emily lying next to him had felt so right, like she was meant to be there. He watched her for a couple of moments, her eyelids flickering slightly as she dreamt about something. He was almost tempted to wake her, to ask what she’d been dreaming about. She’d taught him so much about himself in such a short space of time and now he wanted to know all there was to know about her. It wasn’t a feeling he’d ever experienced before.

Jude didn’t really want to wake her, though. Instead, he slid out from beneath the covers as quietly as he could. Going through to the open-plan living area of the apartment, he smiled at the sight of the two dogs curled up against one another, just as he and Emily had been. The bags from the takeaway delivery were on the kitchen counter. They’d both been ravenous by the time it arrived, and Jude had wondered if it might feel awkward, going back to talking and enjoying a meal together after they’d taken things to the next level.

He’d known there was no use pretending this was just sex, the kind of casual encounter he’d had in the past. With Emily,there were deep feelings tangled up with it too. But it hadn’t made things awkward; it had felt good to extend the intimacy as they went through the rest of the suitcase, with a movie they’d both seen before playing in the background. They’d gone back to bed after that, taking things a bit slower second time around, and it still hadn’t been awkward, even when she’d fallen asleep in his arms. Usually, he couldn’t wait to have his own space back. It felt suffocating for someone else to be around, but he didn’t feel that way about Emily. And he already missed her presence, despite the fact that she was only in the next room. There was no denying it was a massive risk, allowing himself to feel things he’d never felt before, but he was starting to like the sense of not being fully in control. It made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t felt for a very long time.

‘Come on then, you two, let’s go for a quick walk before breakfast.’ Jude had cleaned his teeth and taken a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt out of the tumble dryer so that he could take the dogs out. Not having a proper garden was one of the only downsides of Puffin’s Rest, and it had quickly been established on Gary Barlow’s first visit that the little Border terrier was unwilling to have a wee in the courtyard. It was grass or nothing for him.

Jude was glad he’d put on his heavy coat. The weather had dropped another couple of degrees and there was a bitter wind coming straight off the sea, making the Christmas lights strung between the lampposts around the harbour swing up and over like skipping ropes. The dogs seemed even keener than he was to finish the walk, and within ten minutes they were back inside Puffin’s Rest. He fed them and put the kettle on, before picking up the scrapbook again, turning to the pages towards the back and looking at the mementoes that had been added there. He hadn’t noticed the previous night that one of the learner plates he’d joyfully cut off his car on the day he’d passed his testhad been pasted into the book. He’d been delighted that day, knowing it gave him his ticket to freedom and that he could escape the tension of his so-called family home whenever liked. Most of his friends couldn’t wait to get home from boarding school for the holidays, but the thought had always filled Jude with dread. It seemed impossible to believe that Charles had been sentimental enough to save one of the L-plates, but the only way to find out was to ask him. Picking up his phone, Jude typed out a message to his father.

Just wondering if you’re free for a chat at some point today?

Jude didn’t add any kisses because they didn’t have a demonstrative relationship in person, let alone over text. The reply came back almost immediately.

Of course. Where and when do you want to meet? I’m free all day.

His father’s response had caught him off guard. He’d been planning to call and hadn’t even considered the possibility of Charles suggesting they meet up, but maybe this was a conversation they needed to have face to face.

I’ll drive over to the house if that’s okay? Mid afternoon?

As soon as he pressed send he could see his father was typing a reply.

Okay. See you then.

It was hardly a gushing response, but somehow it still felt significant. It had been surprisingly easy to arrange the meet-up,and his father hadn’t even tried to put him off. So often in the past, Charles would have sent a reply saying how busy he was in a clear attempt to fob off his only son. But not this time, and suddenly the idea that his father might have been the one adding things to the scrapbook didn’t seem quite so ridiculous.

Emily had woken up to the scent of freshly brewed coffee and what smelt like golden syrup. She tidied up her hair as best she could by raking her hands through it, and came out of the bedroom wearing the same clothes she’d discarded the night before.

‘Morning.’ Her voice was croaky, and Jude looked over and smiled. He was standing close to the oven, looking about ten thousand times more attractive than she felt.

‘Morning. Are you hungry? I’m making waffles.’ He laughed at the look of surprise she was sure must have crossed her face. ‘I found a waffle maker in one of the cupboards the day I got here, and I bought all the stuff to make some. Of course I never got around to it, until now.’

‘Sounds great. I just need to clean my teeth.’ Jude had given her a new toothbrush the night before. When she’d teased him about whether he always kept a spare just in case, he’d reassured her he was nowhere near that slick. He’d bought a four-pack of new toothbrushes when he’d booked the trip to Cornwall and had packed them all. She’d been stupidly pleased to hear this wasn’t just his go-to move, and that the night before had been every bit as out of the ordinary for him as it had been for her. Heading to the bathroom now, she just hoped she didn’t look as rough as she suspected she might. There was no mirror inthe bedroom, but the lighting in the bathroom didn’t pull any punches.

‘Everything okay?’ Jude asked as she came back out, already setting down a plate of waffles on the table.

‘Hmm, although I thought for a moment that Rod Stewart had broken into your bathroom when I caught sight of my reflection.’ Emily tried to flatten down the hair on the top of her head. ‘Look at the state of me.’

‘You look great.’ Jude’s mouth twitched. ‘If anything, I’d say it was more David Bowie than Rod Stewart.’

‘You’re not helping!’ She stuck out her tongue, but laughter was bubbling up inside her. It was so nice to feel close enough to Jude for them to be able to joke like this. He might be teasing her, but she didn’t think for a moment there was a genuine dig intended in anything he was saying.

‘Let me get you a coffee to make it up to you.’ As Jude turned back towards the kitchen worktop, a text message flashed up on Emily’s phone. It was from Charlotte.

Sounds like you had a good time last night from what Mum said. Fancy not coming home, you dirty stop out! We’ll be at Mum and Dad’s in time for dinner, and we’re expecting to meet Jude. Hope you’ve been practising for the karaoke and Just Dance. I’m taking you down this year! xxxx

Emily pulled a face, but it had nothing to do with not wanting to see her sister. Her parents had really liked Jude when they’d met him, so she should have known her mother would read far too much into her staying at his place the night before. Emily knew her mum wanted to see her happy, but Pasty had a habit of expecting all of her daughters’ relationships to turn into a happily ever after. Maybe it was because she’d married her firstever boyfriend. Either way, it was no wonder Emily had grown up to believe in fairytale romances too. But this was reality, and it was very early days. She wasn’t even sure she could call this a relationship yet.

‘Is something the matter?’ Jude gave her a questioning look.

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