Reunited at The Altar

He’d sent her those flowers. He’d opened up to her—at least, he’d tried to. He’d said that she made his world a better place; that was how she felt about him, too.

So if he did feel the same way that she did... What then? How was it going to work, given that her life was here and his was in London? It wasn’t a commutable distance. How were they going to compromise?

‘You’re quiet,’ he said, his arms wrapped round her and his mouth against her hair.

‘Wool-gathering,’ she said, not wanting to push the point.

‘I was thinking,’ he said. ‘I know you have to be up early tomorrow, but right now I don’t want you to go home.’

Her stomach suddenly felt as if it were filled with butterflies. ‘You’re asking me to stay the night?’

‘Yes.’ He twisted slightly so he was facing her, and snatched a kiss. ‘I know we said we weren’t going to complicate things, but I want to wake up with you in my arms.’

She wanted that, too.

‘And I’ll drive you back to your place tomorrow morning at whatever time you like.’

‘It’ll be really early. Well before breakfast,’ she warned.

‘I don’t care, as long as you stay,’ he said.

In speed-dating terms, they were practically two months in to their new relationship. And although she knew they’d both held off sleeping together again because they hadn’t wanted sex to get in the way, she was already clear about what she wanted. The fact that he wanted it, too—and he’d talked about waking with her, not about sex—gave her hope.

And how could she resist those beautiful dark eyes? She took a deep breath. ‘Yes.’

‘Good.’ He kissed her, scooped her up at the same time as he got out of the chair they’d been sitting in together, and carried her to his bed.

* * *

Abigail was awake early the next morning. Brad was still asleep and the light was just starting to filter through the curtains. He really was beautiful, she thought as she watched him lying beside her. But more than that, she loved the man he’d become.

They’d find their compromise somehow. Even if it meant that she was the one who had to uproot her life and move to London. Maybe she could open a branch of Scott’s there, while putting a manager in to run the Norfolk side of the business.

She’d miss her parents, Ruby, her friends and her colleagues. She’d miss seeing the sea every day. She’d miss the tiny flint cottage she’d grown to love. Leaving here would be a massive wrench.

But it meant she would be with Brad.

No more loneliness, no more wishing that she’d done something different and managed to save her marriage.

Tomorrow, they’d talk about it and make their decision.

And please let him want the same thing that she did.

She woke him with a kiss. ‘Hey, sleepyhead.’

He was almost instantly awake. ‘I need to drive you home.’

‘I can get a taxi.’

‘I promised you last night I’d take you home, no matter how ridiculously early it is.’ He kissed her. ‘Good morning. I can try sweet-talking the kitchen staff into letting us having some very early breakfast.’

She smiled. ‘It’s fine. I’ll grab something after I’ve had my shower and changed.’

In the end, he drove her home and made her coffee while she showered and dressed, and instead of her usual morning run she made toast and had breakfast with him.

And how nice it was to do something as simple and everyday as having breakfast together. She’d missed that. Missed him making her coffee, missed doing the crossword together on Sunday mornings, missed waking up in his arms.

‘I’m afraid I have to go now, but I’ll be done at the café by ten,’ she said.

‘Sure. I’ll do the washing up while you’re gone.’

‘It’s fine. Leave it. A couple of crumb-filled plates and jammy knives really don’t matter,’ she said, flapping a dismissive hand. ‘But thanks for the offer.’

She let him drop her at the café on his way back to the Bay Tree.

‘I’ll pick you up at the café at ten?’ he asked.

‘See you then,’ she said, kissing him goodbye.