Page 60 of The Secret Christmas Bookshop
‘Get in there.’ She pointed behind her. ‘Under that massive rainwater shower head with its endless hot water.’
He sighed. ‘There are joggers and a jumper on the bed. I messaged May, who’s out working, and she said I could lend them to you.’
‘Thank you. Now, go. I can hear your teeth chattering.’
Harry glared at her, but there wasn’t much heat in it. She stepped aside and he went into the bathroom and shut the door. The clothes were laid out neatly for her, and shepressed her hand into the soft counterpane, found the mattress firm and unyielding. She swallowed.
It all felt so intimate, drying herself in his room, wearing clothes he’d found for her. She reached for the jumper, then realized she wasn’t alone. Sitting under the window, in a curious little row, were Darkness, Terror, Clifton, and a very fluffy goat, a butter-wouldn’t-melt expression on his adorable little face.
When the bathroom door opened ten minutes later, Sophie was sitting on the edge of Harry’s bed. She hadn’t known where to go, so she’d stayed put. Of course, now, that meant she was faced with him wearing only a towel. It was wrapped firmly around his waist and left a lot on display.
His torso was firm and slender but not ostentatiously muscled, with a slight brush of brown chest hair fading to a happy trail that ran down his stomach. It was mouth-watering, this glimpse of him: bare chested, his damp hair dark, water rivulets sliding down his neck. It did nothing to quash the feelings that had been slowly growing over the last few weeks.
He stood in the bathroom doorway, his gaze trailing from her, sitting on the edge of the bed, to the animals patiently waiting beneath the window.
‘You let a goat in your bedroom,’ Sophie said, mostly so she didn’t instead say something like, ‘Can I lick you?’ or, ‘We’d both be warmer if we got under your duvet without any clothes on.’
‘I didn’tlethim,’ Harry said. ‘But I didn’t want him outside tonight, after his … adventure.’ He walked towards her, seemingly unconcerned about his lack of clothes, and shestood up, panic – and something else – fluttering in her chest. ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked. ‘Are you warm enough? Have you had enough of me and this madhouse yet?’ He reached out and pushed a wave of damp hair off her forehead.
She laughed nervously. ‘That is a lot of questions.’
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I was worried. You didn’t have to go in for Felix: you shouldn’t have had to do any of that. It’s my fault, and I—’
‘Shhhh.’ She pressed two fingers against his lips, the action bringing her closer to him; to his warm, bare skin, the heat radiating off him. ‘The answer to the last one is no.’
‘No?’ he murmured against her fingers.
‘I haven’t had enough of you,’ she said. ‘I was coming here to tell you that, to find out what was going on. To see if we could maybe … work things out.’
‘Work things out?’ His gaze was fixed to hers, and Sophie felt the opposite of numb. The shower and Harry – mostlyHarry – had woken her up, set her alight.
‘For the festival,’ she clarified.
‘For the festival,’ he repeated, stepping closer. ‘That is important.’
‘That’s what I thought. We need to be on the same page for that, at the very least.’ She was tingling all over. He was so close and warm and tantalizing.He was right in front of her.
‘Sophie,’ he whispered.
‘Yes, Harry?’ She held her breath, waiting for what came next.
Chapter Nineteen
The silence stretched between them. Sophie wished, with her whole being, that he would close the gap and lean down, find her lips with his. And yet, part of her was clearly intent on sabotaging the moment.
‘You stopped talking to me,’ she said. ‘You didn’t want to make bunting together any more.’
She saw his surprise. Then his brows dipped, and she didn’t know if it was confusion or irritation.
‘It wasn’t that I didn’twantto make it with you,’ he said. ‘Sophie, I …’
‘What?’ She dropped her fingers. She’d had them on his lips for far too long.
He brought his hands to her shoulders. They were warm through the borrowed jumper, and she sucked in a breath. ‘Can I …?’
‘What?’ she said stupidly, and his eyebrow kicked up. ‘Oh. I mean, yes. Except you didn’t finish the sentence, so I’m not entirely sure what you’re asking, but …’
‘I’d like to kiss you,’ he said patiently. ‘Is that OK?’
