Page 103 of The Cornish Cream Tea Bookshop
Ollie waited for the clapping to subside before she spoke. ‘We are in the process of ordering copies of Bryan Mailer’s – Liam’s – series from second-hand sellers, but it could take some time. We have a few sets of his mysteries downstairs, and I’ve also had some pamphlets printed up. It’s a small selection of his legends, and something for you all to get signed by him tonight: it also gives any of you who aren’t yet a fan, a taster of his brilliant writing. If you could form an orderly queue …’ She raised her voice, having to shout all of a sudden, because the crowd had started murmuring, their applause returning, quiet and patchy to begin with,then once again filling the room, thrumming through the building like the tremors of an earthquake.
She frowned, confused, and looked to Liam for clarification. He squeezed her hand and pointed.
Ollie turned towards the stairs, and her breath caught.
Max was standing there, wearing a soft grey jumper and jeans, his curls and his green eyes and his smile like water to her parched body.
‘Oh my God!’ She rushed over to him, then paused. ‘Max?’
‘Come here,’ he said, and wrapped his arms around her.
‘I didn’t know you were coming.’ She kissed him softly on the lips. ‘I didn’t realise you’d been discharged.’
‘They let me out an hour ago. I wanted to get here earlier.’ He rubbed his cheek, embarrassed as people continued to cheer and clap. ‘I didn’t mean to interrupt.’
‘You’re here,’ she said, squeezing him. ‘You’re OK?’
‘I’m better than OK.’
‘Not one surprise,’ Liam said to the crowd, ‘but two. Max and Ollie are the reason I’m here tonight, so let’s give it up for both of them. Come on, everyone!’
It was Liam who led the next round of applause, while Ollie held Max tightly and rested her head against his chest. He brushed his lips against her hair, and laughed softly into her ear, while the whole of Port Karadow welcomed him home.
‘It’s a Christmas miracle!’ shouted a voice, and when Ollie looked up, Lizzy caught her eye and winked.
Chapter Forty-Three
Ollie woke on Christmas morning and stretched out, finding a warm body at her side: hot skin and dark hair, and delicious stubble for her to kiss.
‘Hey,’ she said, turning over.
‘Happy Christmas,’ Max said, his voice gravelly with sleep.
‘Happy Christmas,’ Ollie whispered, smiling against his lips.
The kissing lasted a long time, and Ollie was debating whether to ask Max if he wanted coffee, or if they should just stay in their duvet cocoon until Henry demanded his breakfast, when Max said, ‘How long do we have to get ready?’ and Ollie remembered that she was not going to have the lonely Christmas she had been imagining. Instead, she was hosting Max, Max’s parents and Liam, and then later, Meredith and Finn, Thea and Ben, Becky and her kids.
‘Shit.’ She flopped back onto the pillow.
Max laughed. ‘I thought this was what you wanted? I thought you were desperate to show off your sparkly garlands and your culinary skills?’
‘OfcourseI am. This is like all my Christmases come at once, and on Christmas Day, too: Christmas stacked upon Christmas. It couldn’t get any better.’
‘So?’ Max asked, drawing the word out.
‘I just want a bit longer here, with you.’ She slid her leg over his. ‘If that’s …’
He cupped her face in his palms and kissed her softly. ‘I’m good. No marathons, triathlons, or Iron Man competitions. Let’s take it slow, OK?’
‘OK. So just kissing, for now—’
‘That’s not what I meant.’ Max trailed his fingers down her neck, his touch teasing as he reached her back, setting her nerve endings alight. When he squeezed her hip, he said, ‘I meant let’s take this slowly, right now.’ He kissed below her ear, ran his lips down the sensitive skin of her throat, and she hummed into him.
‘Slow is better, sometimes,’ she murmured.
‘Yeah.’ He tugged her gently until she was on top of him, the duvet over her shoulders like a cloak. ‘Slow can be perfect.’
It was, Ollie thought, as she bent to kiss his stubbled jaw, a great way to start Christmas morning.
