Page 41 of The Cosy Seaside Chocolate Shop

She felt shattered, anxiety having dissolved into fatigue. ‘We’ll save the courtyard for another time.’ And the bottle of prosecco too, she mused. It didn’t seem the right time for bubbly any more. She just wanted to curl up with him on the sofa and have supper on their knees.

‘I do have a bottle of red in my car. I’ll go fetch it, shall I?’

‘Okay, yes, lasagne with a glass of red sounds pretty good.’ Though the way she was feeling so tired suddenly, she feared she might be asleep before they even finished it.

After the meal, they were sat chatting.

‘Hey, I’m sorry that your plans for us to have supper in the courtyard didn’t work out for tonight.’ Max looked genuinely apologetic.

‘Ah, it’s okay. I know you couldn’t help being so late.’ Emma had calmed down by now. She could see how Max was trying to juggle life and work with travelling up to see her.

‘We could always take a glass of wine outside?’ he suggested. ‘Have a few moments out there at least.’

‘We’ll need a fleece on. But yeah, why not.’

‘Or my arms around you?’ He gave a cheeky smile.

‘Now that sounds a good idea.’

‘Come on then.’

They wandered down to the quaint courtyard that held Emma’s latest Chocolate Shop dreams within its walls. There was enough light coming from the kitchen to flood the space nearest the cottage, and a half moon shone above them too. Alfie followed them out eagerly, wagging his tail and sniffing around.

‘You’ve worked really hard on this, haven’t you?’ Max said, taking in all the revamped furniture, the little touches with the plant pots.

‘Yes, this place means so much to me, Max.’

‘I can tell. It’s got that warm friendly feel, with a little bit of magic that spells Emma to me. Your heart and soul really has gone into this.’

‘Aw, that’s so lovely.’

He placed his wine glass down on the table beside them. Emma did the same, anticipating what might come next. And he took her into his arms as he’d promised, tenderly placing his lips against hers, tasting of red wine and Max, with a generous sprinkle of passion and a hint of her future.

There was no Sunday morning lie-in. Emma woke feeling restless and had got up early to sand down the last of the table sets, ready to paint after work. However, on the radio, whilst making herself a coffee to keep her going, she heard that rain was forecast for later. Argh, how was she going to paint a table in the pouring rain? She’d have to get it into the shop somehow, but how was she meant to do that, with a kitchen full of chocolates, and a café full of customers?

Still, she sanded until the grit made her eyes itchy and her back was aching. She must have been at it for nearly an hour-and-a-half before Max appeared.

‘Hey.’

‘Hi.’

‘You look busy.’

‘Yeah. I have loads to do today.’ She could feel her stress levels rising. The shop would be opening again at lunchtime, and there was a long list of things she needed to do first. So much to do, so little time!

‘Coffee?’

‘Yes please.’

When he came back a little later, carrying two mugs, he said, ‘Can I help with anything? I’ve got a few hours this morning, then I’m gonna have to head off again. I have a pile of paperwork to sort out – bills, admin stuff. It’s been mounting up and I’m going to get into trouble if I don’t get on with it.’

‘Oh …’ Emma felt disappointed. Here we go again. ‘But you haven’t even been here twenty-four hours, yet.’

‘I know, babe. But at least I made the effort to come all the way up here to see you.’ He didn’t sound that happy that he had. Emma could feel the magic of last night quickly melting away.

‘Whatever.’ Emma’s response was curt; she had enough on her plate. She’d just crack on with what she needed to do to get this place ready to open tomorrow. If it wasn’t raining, that was. Some grand opening that would be, with two people, probably Bev and Holly, sitting with umbrellas.

The two of them sipped their coffees, unsure of what to say next. Emma bit the inside of her lip. Maybe they weren’t as okay as they had imagined. Their relationship was like a yo-yo at the moment.