“Are you on honeymoon?” We looked up to see a woman serving us coffee, smiling kindly at us.
“No,” Grace smiled. “This is our second anniversary.”
She nodded, pouring the coffee.
“Yeah,” I added to our fantasy romance story. “We always wanted to come here but something always came up.”
“Well, you’re lucky, we’ll soon be closing down,” she said.
“Why?” Grace asked.
“Ah, long story,” she said, winking at us and going to fetch our pancakes.
Seeing that we were still waiting for an explanation, she gave in.
“I’m selling the place; I’ve had it in the market for some time and I’ll soon close it down.”
“You’ve found a seller?”
“Not exactly.”
“We’ve been looking for a place like this, haven’t we, hon?” I said, looking at Grace. She looked up at me, searching my face to see how far I’d take this joke.
“We have, that’s right,” she said, going along with my story.
“How much are you asking for it?”
The woman, folded her arms, looking at me earnestly, clearly wanting to see how serious I was.
“I had it in the market for thirty thousand dollars. It’s a steal, comes with all the kitchen equipment, the furniture, and the fittings.” She looked around. “It’s a popular place, you wouldn’t think so now, but it’s market day and most of the locals will be in later.” She paused. “Ran the place for twenty years, it’s been my life, but it’s time to go now.”
“I’ll take it,” I said. “I’ll buy it.”
Chapter 19
Grace
We walked down to the town in the late afternoon, hand-in-hand. I don’t know if he took my hand first or if my hand grasped his. We were walking, our hands brushed against each other and then they found each other. My hand slipped into his, our fingers interlaced and locked in our warmth.
I was happier than I’d ever been with anybody, ever before. This was unlike anything I’d experienced before, I thought of the boys I’d dated, and I could not believe that I had thought seriously about them for any length of time. I’d dated Ben for two years? When he couldn’t even make my body sing like Paul had, when I had never craved his body, longed to be with him every second of the day?
I knew that Paul felt this too.
He didn’t talk about it, but it was in the way he looked at me and held me, close to his body, his arms tight as if he never wanted to let me go. It had been his idea to come away on this weekend. He didn’t have to go to such lengths to get me into bed, I was already sleeping with him, and we were spending much time together as it was.
This was about being alone with me, exclusively, spending even more time with me. It was about intimacy and closeness and not just about sex. I just adored the inn he had booked out for our stay, this charming old place with a rambling garden and fireplaces in about every room. It was as romantic a place as I could have imagined, and it was perfect for me. I would have hated a luxury modern hotel with the standard padded headboard and the generic art that you knew they had in all the rooms. There was one of those hotels in the harbor, we’d walked past it on our way to lunch and there was no way we could have had the privacy that we had at the inn. Walking around naked, making love on the rug in front of the fire in the living room, wrapping ourselves in fluffy blankets afterwards and drinking wine.
His phone rang and he stopped to retrieve it from his pocket.
“I have to get this,” he said with a rueful smile., “It’s Alana.”
He answered the call, sounding irritable. “What is it?”
I pointed at the coffee shop and mouthed, “Meet you there.”
“Yes,” he said to me, holding the phone away. “Meet you there.”
I shoved my hands deep into my parka, but I missed his warmth, the feel of being held by him. I marveled at how quickly that had happened, this feeling between us, the knowledge that we belonged together. Despite everything and all my doubts about him, I had come to believe this, that we belonged together.