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Christmas at the First Sip Coffee Shop

Page 90

by Emma Bennet

She would have managed, she told herself firmly. She would have called Carrie, or Mary, or Ellen, or Jo, or Nat, or Seren, or any of the other lovely people she knew in the town, and she knew that any of them would have immediately dropped everything to help her and drive her to the hospital. But she hadn’t needed to do that because she had someone she knew she could trust and rely on with her already. It never even occurred to her to think that he wouldn’t look after her. And he’d stayed so steady and level-headed throughout the whole ordeal. Making sure she felt safe and getting her where she needed to be. Never letting her see how upset he was in case it made her feel worse. And then, when it was all over and they knew their little plum was fine, all she’d wanted while her body recovered from its fright, was to be with Dylan.

Dylan, who a few months ago she hadn’t even been able to be in the same room with without him annoying her. He could still be really annoying, granted, especially when he was being all smug about being right about something, yet again, but he was also extraordinarily kind and there was no one else she wanted to be with at that time. At any time, really. And to think, if he hadn’t got her pregnant, she never would have realised.

“Will you be all right to go to Michael and Carrie’s tomorrow?” Dylan asked, breaking her thoughts. “I know they’d understand, if we need to cancel.”

The fact that he said ‘we’ like it was a given that he wouldn’t be going if she wasn’t — even though Michael was his oldest and best friend — Lucy knew without him saying that he’d stay with her, even if she claimed she didn’t need him.

“I’ll be fine,” Lucy said. “It’ll be fun. I needed some quiet this afternoon to just . . . calm down, but let’s go tomorrow.”

“Great,” said Dylan, cutting some bread to go with the soup he was heating up. He stretched. His jumper moved up and exposed some of his stomach. Lucy averted her eyes, then snuck a quick peek.

“Why don’t we see exactly how lazy we can be today?” Dylan suggested. “We don’t even need to cook properly, just heat up the lasagne. Extra points if either of us falls asleep at some point.”

“Don’t expect to beat a pregnant woman at that. You don’t stand a chance.”

“That’s completely fine with me,” Dylan smiled.

* * *

True to their plans, they were so lazy, they even shut the curtains, making the flat feel like a safe little haven of candles and Christmas tree lights. They watched television and talked and played card games on the coffee table, as if there was no one else in the world.

“Are you ready for bed?” Dylan asked as it approached 11 p.m. and he spotted Lucy stifling a yawn.

Lucy suddenly felt like there was nothing she wanted more in the world than for Dylan to join her in her bed, and her cheeks flared as it felt like he was reading her mind.

“Um . . . yeah . . . um . . .” she stuttered.

Dylan looked at her strangely. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. All good,” said Lucy, heaving herself up from where she’d been wedged in the corner of the sofa. She was very careful not to meet Dylan’s eyes. Doing so would be to court absolute disaster.

“I didn’t mean . . .” said Dylan as it obviously clicked what she had been thinking. “I just meant I’m tired and ready to go to bed, so I was asking if you were going to as well. To your own bed, at least.”

Lucy couldn’t help laughing at the awkwardness of the situation until she made the mistake of allowing her eyes to lock onto his.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed slowly.

“Actually,” Lucy said, her heart thumping, “would you . . . I mean . . .”

“You want me to come into your bed?” Dylan said gently.

“Yes. Not to . . . you know . . . But . . . I just feel—”

“Of course,” Dylan said simply, saving her the embarrassment of continuing. He took hold of her hand and led her to her bedroom.

Chapter 28

“Wakey wakey!” Dylan called through the bedroom door, waking Lucy up the next morning.

“What time is it?” she groaned.

“It’s nearly nine! Come on!”

Lucy grinned at his childlike enthusiasm.

“I’m coming,” she said. “Get the kettle on.”

“If you’re not out in five minutes, I’m coming to get you,” he threatened, making her laugh.