Chapter Thirteen
‘Perfect timing,’ said Reuben, swinging open the door. He pulled off his cap and ran a hand through his hair, suddenly conscious of what a state he looked.
Jessica smiled at him tentatively and handed him his latte from the drinks holder. ‘I’ve brought you a cinnamon bun too.’
‘How did you know I was in the mood for one?’
‘A hunch,’ she said with a shrug.
‘You’re an angel, Jessie,’ he said with a grin.
‘Oops, sorry, Jessica.’ He didn’t think she would be very amused to know that he had just saved her number on his phone under Jessie.
‘Do you want to come in and have your coffee with me? I could do with taking a break anyway. And it would be nice to have someone to talk to.’ He laughed.
‘I think the birds in the garden are getting bored of my chat.’
‘Sure,’ she said, raising her eyebrows at him.
He held the door open as she brushed past him and made her way into the cottage.
He’d forgotten what a tight space the doorway was and tried to push away the rush of excitement he felt as her hand grazed his.
These were unfamiliar feelings which he wasn’t quite sure what to do with.
He gulped as he tried to regain some composure. ‘Come through to the kitchen.’
‘Should I close my eyes until it’s all finished,’ she said, handing him her coffee while she slipped off her shoes and set down her bag of purchases from the gift shop at the door.
He grinned. ‘It’s up to you. This room is finished, though you can come back and get a proper tour. I’ve thrown dust sheets over everything as I’m still doing some sanding upstairs and it seems to get everywhere.’
‘It looks great,’ she said, looking around the sitting room. ‘Your tree looks perfect in the window there too.’
‘I’ll give you the proper tour of the cottage when the dust sheets are away.
And even show you my Christmas lights,’ he said with a chuckle.
She gave him a look. Had he said that too suggestively?
Did it sound like innuendo? ‘Um, the kitchen is a bit of a mess with all my stuff and more dust sheets but you should see a change. Come on through and have a seat.’ He led the way.
‘It’s so bright,’ she said enthusiastically. ‘What a great space.’ She looked around taking it all in.
‘Here,’ he said, pulling out a chair at the table. ‘Have a seat.’
She sat down and picked up her cup and took a drink.
Reuben was suddenly lost for words as he looked at her.
He realised there was nowhere he would rather be right now other than sitting in this kitchen drinking coffee with Jessica.
It was such a weird sensation. This was Jessie.
Murray’s younger sister. She pulled off her hat and looked at him quizzically, before opening the paper bag containing the buns.
‘These are so good,’ she said, passing one to him.
‘Oh, you might want a plate or a napkin. They’re quite sticky.
’ She took a bite and he had to restrain himself from reaching out to dab away the trail of icing on the side of her mouth.
Realising he was verging on being weird, rude or both, he quickly said the first thing he could think of. ‘You did well to get any. People come from all over for these cinnamon buns. The bakery is famous for them.’ He inwardly groaned at himself. Really? Was that the best he could manage?
‘We were lucky — they were the last two. It’s a great place, isn’t it? Such a good local resource. Is it awful that I don’t even know where my local bakery in Putney is?’
He took a drink of his latte, relieved she had responded. ‘Putney’s a nice spot.’
‘You know it?’ she said surprised.
He nodded and gave a small chuckle of amusement. ‘Yes, believe it or not, I have made it to London a few times. I’ve a good friend who lives in Fulham, and whenever I visit, we tend to walk across the bridge to Putney. There’s a great Spanish restaurant there.’
She dropped her gaze for a moment and bit her lip. ‘You probably know the area better than I do. I can’t remember the last time I went out in my own neighbourhood.’
He tilted his head and looked at her curiously. ‘I’m sure that’s not the case. You’ve lived there for years, haven’t you?’
She exhaled deeply. ‘Yes. But I am embarrassed to say that over the past few years the most of London I’ve seen is the District line and the river path.’ Jessica shrugged. ‘I sometimes run to work.’
‘Where is your office?’
‘Hammersmith bridge.’
He widened his eyes in astonishment. ‘Seriously?’
She nodded. ‘Yes. Why?’
‘I know that area well too. In fact, I was down earlier in the year and had a meeting with a client near there.’ It was strange to think that they had been so physically close yet until now they hadn’t really been on either’s radar for many years.
But then why would they be? He had been a happily married man.
‘I didn’t realise you worked in London too. I thought you were just based up here.’
He nodded. ‘I am, mostly. But this was for a client I’d worked with before.
He’s got a holiday home near Gartocharn and wanted me to take on another renovation project for him, down south.
But when I realised what a huge job it was, and that I would need to be based there for a while, I referred it to one of my friends, someone I knew could be trusted to do it well.
’ He took another sip of his coffee, keen to learn more about her.
‘And how is work with you? It’s employment law, isn’t it? ’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Mm, I used to love it. Especially when I felt like I could help people and make a difference. Not so much lately. I thought I would miss it, you know, being up here. But I don’t.’
He nodded and waited for her to go on.
‘I think I’ve become a bit too cynical.’ She smiled. ‘It looks as though you’ve had a bit of a role change.’ She gestured at his overalls.
Reuben chuckled. ‘Yes, a change from the days I always wore a suit. I decided to take on fewer projects this year so I could focus on the cottage and the renovations. I’ve some other things lined up in the new year though.’
‘And which do you prefer?’
‘Good question,’ he said. ‘Probably the slower pace of life. It’s amazing how therapeutic painting has been.’ He was silent for a moment. ‘It’s the simple things that matter.’
Her gaze held his and in that moment something unspoken seemed to pass between them. He suddenly had an urge to reach over and kiss her. But the moment was broken when his mobile phone, on the table next to him, rang. He glanced at the caller ID. ‘It’s the care home,’ he said. ‘I’d better take it.’
She nodded and stood. ‘I’ll leave you to it. I’d better go anyway.’
He gave her a smile and a nod as he answered the call and watched her slip out of the room. Seconds later, he heard the front door close.