Page 14 of My Summer of Magic Moments

‘Hah, glad it’s summer, that’s all I can say. But I wouldn’t know where to start with lighting a real fire, to be honest.’

‘Well.’ He looked up at her, taking the newspaper and giving a small grin. ‘Watch and learn.’

He started rolling tight batons of paper, loading them into the grate. She liked watching him work – intent on his task with his back to her, broad shoulders, arm muscles working away. She realized she was staring, but hey, he’d asked her to watch! She was rather enjoying observing him doing his fire-lighting man thing. She didn’t mind being looked after in this instance. But all too soon, the cold began seeping into her bones. She left him to his fire lighting and went upstairs, fetching two big towels out of the bathroom and wrapping hers around her. That was a bit better. She handed him one as she got back to the lounge.

‘Thanks.’ He placed it round his shoulders.

‘I’ve got some soup left over. Are you hungry? It will only take a few minutes to heat up, and I made fresh bread this morning. It’s the least I can do … warm us up.’ And what was the most she could do? Out of the blue, she suddenly visualized lots of other naughty things they could do, involving duvets and warm bare skin. Blimey, where had that come from? Her mind hadn’t veered that way in an age, her body even longer.

He lit a match. Flames began to slowly lick at the paper and the stack of sticks in the hearth.

‘So that’s what I could smell from across this way this morning. Homemade bread.’

The fire began crackling around the kindling and paper, its glow already beginning to take the chill off the room. She headed to the kitchen, taking the matches with her, and lit the stove to warm the soup. She cut slices of soft, crusty bread and spread it thickly with butter. Within five minutes, she was bringing it all back in on a tray.

‘Good dry logs,’ he commented.

The fire was now flaming gold and orange, its warmth starting to thaw the room. She handed him a mug of vegetable soup, passed the bread, then sat down beside him cross-legged on the floor, but her jeans were sodden and getting cold, clinging roughly to her legs. Damn, she should have changed them when she was upstairs, but she didn’t want to move away from this lovely fire, the warm mug of soup. She put her mug down and stood up, pausing for a second. Oh, sod it, they were coming off. She wrapped the towel around her waist, then undid the button and zip.

‘Hope you don’t mind, but these jeans are soaking wet still.’

‘Doesn’t worry me.’ He took a gulp of soup, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

She slid the jeans down and off. Ah, that was so much better. She could thaw out properly now. The towel covered her knees at least.

‘Better?’ He was smiling. He seemed surprisingly relaxed. It was as if the real Ed was finally showing through.

‘Better.’ She took back her mug of soup and sipped, beginning to warm both inside and out.

So here she was, sitting in her cottage by a roaring log fire with an undoubtedly attractive man, who was dressed in a towel, jogging shirt and shorts, whilst she had on only pants, bra and a long-sleeved T-shirt under her towel. Weirdly, it felt okay.

He dunked thick chunks of bread into his mug. ‘This is really good.’

‘Thanks.’

‘So you know how to light a fire now?’

‘Yep. You learn something new every day.’

‘Indeed.’ He sipped. ‘You’ll need that life skill in here. It’s a bloody wreck of a place. Don’t know how you’ve lasted so long, to be honest. Had you down for a few days max at the start.’

‘Ah, did you now? I’m made of hardier stuff than that.’

‘Yes, I can tell.’

Was that a hint of admiration in his tone? Bloody hell! What had happened to Mr Grumpy? Had he gone and got a personality transplant over the weekend, or had the rain washed away his ill humour?

As he leaned across to put another log on the fire, his foot brushed hers, sending little electrical pulses through her. She wasn’t wearing any trousers, her sensible head reminded her. Thank God she’d shaved her legs this morning. She’d better go and get some dry clothes on as soon as. She didn’t know quite what had come over her; she wouldn’t normally strip off her trousers in front of a man she scarcely knew. But she was just getting warm again, enjoying his company, and didn’t want to move quite yet. Didn’t want to go upstairs and break the spell.

When he settled back down, his foot lay there touching her own.

‘This is cosy,’ he said, matter of fact.

‘Ah-hah,’ she agreed. A tense feeling came over her. Anticipation?

He held her gaze for a second or two, then smiled. God, he had a lovely smile – nice white teeth, soft lips, a suggestion of manly stubble on his upper lip and chin. Why on earth had he kept that smile hidden? Maybe he had a lot of pressures at work, came here to get away from it all. It took him a while to wind down, obviously, considering how cool he’d been the last few times they’d met.

‘What do you do for a living?’ Claire piped up.