Page 110 of The Twelve Dates of Christmas
The conversation between them was easy now that he had allayed her fears, and Kate’s mind wandered to an imaginary dinner table where Richard regaled their guests with the funny story of how they got together, against the odds, despite his having to stand Kate up on their first date.
Kate was shoveling in her last spoonful of an unctuously treacly sticky toffee pudding when Richard said:
“Why don’t I come back to yours for a nightcap?”
Kate froze. She tried to play it cool, chewing for longer than she needed to, intimating to him with her face and hands that she’d answer him as soon as she had swallowed. She didn’t know what to do. She hadn’t had sex in a really long time and she didn’t doubt that Richard would be a great lover. And my goodness, she’d like to. But still.
“Maybe not tonight,” she found herself saying. “The house is a mess”—it wasn’t—“and I’ve got a ton of work to do”—she didn’t—“and I’ll be burning the midnight oil as it is!”—she wouldn’t.
Really, mouth!Kate chastised herself.Why would you go and say that? We could have had sex! Actual sex!But her mouth seemed to carry on regardless.
“Would you take a rain check?” she went on. “It’s just tonight’s not a good night.”
Richard smiled. He leaned toward her and lightly kissed her sticky toffee lips.
“Another night, then,” he said. “I can wait.”
Kate smiled and licked her lips involuntarily.Damn you, sensiblemouth!She had a distinct sense she had just passed over the chance for a very splendid night indeed.
She called Laura when she reached the top of the hill, having assured Richard she didn’t need to be walked home. Aside from anything else, she wasn’t sure she could have Richard outside her house and not be tempted to ask him in.
“Well, good,” said Laura. “I think you made the right decision. There’s no need to rush into anything.”
“I’m a grown woman,” said Kate. “I should be able to have sex with someone I like and not worry if it leads to something or it doesn’t. What’s wrong with me?”
“Maybe you’re subconsciously biding your time until you’ve finished all twelve dates, just in case you meet Mr. Right on the last one?” Laura suggested.
Kate was considering this as she turned in to the village square when she spotted Matt and Sarah going into the darkened café.
“Shit!” she hissed down the phone. “It’s Matt and Sarah.”
“Where?” asked Laura.
Kate ducked down behind a holly bush out of sight.
“What are you doing?” asked Laura. “I can hear rustling.”
“I’m hiding,” whispered Kate.
“In a paper bag?”
“In a bush,” Kate hissed.
“We’re not back to that, are we?” asked Laura. “It took years for the hedges of Blexford to stop being Kate-shaped!”
“I don’t want to see him!” said Kate.
“You’re going to bump into him sooner or later,” said Laura. “This is a small village, you can’t avoid him forever.”
Kate took a deep breath, keeping one eye on Matt and Sarahthrough a hole in the bush. The café lights flicked off again and they emerged from the café carrying two shopping bags each and headed toward Matt’s house; clearly Sarah had had enoughspace.
“Actually, I can avoid him forever,” said Kate, still crouched in the snow.
“What do you mean?” said Laura.
“I’m leaving Blexford,” said Kate. “After Christmas.”
There was silence on the line for a few seconds.
