Chapter 21
21
It was almost worth getting really sick once in a while, Laura decided, because of how good it felt to recover.
She could feel a new energy humming in her veins. Things tasted better and smelled amazing. Colours seemed brighter and sounds clearer. The whole world seemed like a shinier place, and it felt so good to be alive it could give you a new perspective on life.
Quite possibly, where she was right now was enhancing the notion of there being a bright side to having been so ill. Apart from the hospital appointment, her first outing of the new year was to come and view Colin’s real estate purchase in Nice and it was more than the beautiful location and architecture that was exciting Laura as they left the apartment block and walked past where she had parked her car to cross the Promenade des Anglaise and admire the closest beach to the property.
For a long moment they stood, side by side, breathing in the smell of salt in the air and taking in the glints of sunshine on seawater that was an amazing shade of turquoise until it turned into the whitest foam as the waves broke onto the pebbled beach.
Everything was so bright. So clear. Maybe that was why Laura suddenly had the feeling that her life was starting to finally fall into place after having been turned upside down and inside out by the discovery that she was pregnant.
She could almost see the process of how her brain was making sense of it all. It was like one of those Venn diagrams she’d learned about at school. Two circles. One of them enclosed her life in Scotland and it held her family and childhood. It was also full of rigid routines like getting up before dawn and going to the gym, the deadlines and pressure of her career in real estate. A strict, healthy diet and all the safe, boring men she had ever dated. Another circle had France as its outline and its interior couldn’t be more different. It was full of impulsive things like riding on the back of a motorbike, the scent of lemons, and lavender fields. It was soft and sensual and… and Noah was there, along with the bittersweet bliss of falling in love.
But – and this was the epiphany – the circles of the Venn diagram overlapped each other and right now she was inside the intersection, with a mix of the familiar and new. She had family here in France, with Ellie and Julien and Theo, but she could now bring her career into the overlap, thanks to this potential joint project with Noah. And when her baby was born, that would become a whole new circle of her life and the single element in the more complicated intersection would be Noah. The father of her baby, a link to France for herself and to a circle still to come that represented the largely unexplored heritage she hadn’t known she possessed.
She was liking this mathematical analogy. Life was all about adding new elements or circles. Maybe the key to happiness was to identify the most important links. The stars of the intersections.
Work.
Family.
The baby.
France.
Noah .
This mix of the different components of her life could be…
… parfait ?
‘Are you hungry?’ Noah’s voice broke into the buzz of finding the prospect of happiness within the overlap of her circles, one that she would still have access to after she went home.
‘Starving,’ she agreed. ‘But I can wait. Could we walk for a while? This is the first time I’ve felt like I could do some exercise since I got sick.’
‘Let’s head for the old town,’ Noah suggested. ‘Walking is what the prom is all about, n’est pas ?’
There were certainly many other people out walking, enjoying the sea air, with the sunshine and palm trees making it feel even less like the middle of winter. There were people walking their dogs and pushing prams or jogging. More than once, Noah cupped Laura’s elbow to bring her closer to his side and protect her from others going much faster on scooters and bicycles and rollerblades.
They talked about renovation ideas for the apartments and the new marketing campaign that could take in a few of the many delights of the capital of the French Riviera, like the beautiful park of the Colline du Chateau and its views from the top of the hill, the historic Place Garibaldi and, perhaps, the pleasure of a food and wine tour of the old town, which was possibly why they ended up at the most famous market in Nice – the Cours Saleya.
In the heart of the old town, the colourful rows of striped awnings formed their own streets in this huge, paved area with tables beneath them offering a breathtaking array of fruit and vegetables and flowers. It was no wonder Laura’s senses felt close to being overwhelmed with the movement and sound of crowds of people, both tourists and locals, doing their grocery shopping and the myriad scents and colours of so many different foods and flowers.
The rainbows of the flower stalls were so bright they made her blink, packed with flowers like ranunculus and dahlias and pots of polyanthus and pansies and…
‘Daffodils,’ Laura exclaimed. ‘But it’s the middle of winter. Aren’t they gorgeous?’
Noah smiled and spoke to the woman at the stall. Moments later, he handed Laura a huge bunch of daffodils wrapped in hessian and tied with a rustic string bow. The flowers had cream petals and buttery yellow trumpets and the smell was glorious. She buried her nose amongst the blooms and inhaled more than the scent of spring. Noah had bought these flowers for her because he could see that she loved them. He had wanted to give her this small pleasure and…
…and it felt like when he’d been looking after her when she was sick.
As if he genuinely cared about her.
As if it wasn’t impossible that he could, one day, fall in love with her?
Did that count as another heightened sense – this ability to feel the warmth of love as an actual physical sensation? The same kind of fizziness that came from the world being extra shiny?
Laura wanted to do something for Noah. But what…?
Another scent caught her nostrils and distracted her as someone walked past them, carrying something wrapped in a paper cone.
‘What is that?’ she asked. ‘It smells delicious.’
‘Socca,’ Noah said. ‘A local speciality. Like pissaladière and salade nicoise.’
‘Oh… Ellie told me about socca. She adores it. I’d love to try some.’
They got the portions of smoky, salty chickpea pancakes wrapped in paper and tore pieces off to eat as they continued walking around the market, and Laura found the combination of heat and smoke, a crispy, salty exterior and the softness inside just as delightful as she’d been told it would be.
At the back of her mind she was still wondering what she could do for Noah. If nothing else, she really wanted to thank him for taking care of her. But they had finished their socca and were heading towards the outer edge of the market before inspiration finally struck.
‘Let me cook for you,’ she said aloud. ‘I could make you dinner.’
‘You can cook?’ Noah lifted an eyebrow. ‘How did I not know this?’
Laura could feel her lips twitch. To her surprise, she was coming to like being teased. It gave her a frisson of something… very pleasant. Because it reminded her of the first time? When they’d both know how much they wanted each other but Noah was pretending otherwise and letting it slowly simmer into something far more delicious.
Ooh… she could feel it now and it was even more powerful than it had been that first time. Tingles of sensation deep in her belly that were as sharp as lemon juice on the tip of your tongue and as decadent as the most wicked dessert. Laura had read about the increased libido that could happen for women in the second trimester of pregnancy but she hadn’t believed it. Wasn’t it a bit weird to want more sex when there was a small human that would actually be in the middle of it all?
It didn’t feel weird right now.
Having sex with the other parent of that small human felt like the most natural thing in the world to do. Something else that she could be quite sure that every one of her senses would be only too happy to embrace in this astonishingly vibrant space of enjoying everything about life after feeling so unwell. The sight of that gorgeous body, completely naked, and the look that would be in his eyes – the one that told her how incredibly beautiful she was. The sound of him murmuring words in French, which was most definitely the language of love. The smell and taste of him. The touch …
Oh, my …
Laura made a huge effort to try and focus on cooking a dinner rather than the simmering sexual tension that was getting quite out of control.
They were passing another beautiful display of fresh produce where vegetables were arranged like a giant flower, with heads of green broccoli and leafy leeks like leaves and stalks around a centre of cauliflowers, with their snowy white florets looking like blossom.
Inspiration struck and provided a distraction from the simmering that was threatening to boil over at any moment.
‘Do you like cauliflower cheese?’ she asked.
‘ C’est quoi? ’
‘Cauliflower.’ Laura pointed at the display. ‘And cheese. Cooked.’
‘Ah…’ Noah nodded. ‘ Le chou-fleur au gratin. Oui. C’est bon .’
‘I can make it really well,’ Laura told him.
‘ Moi aussi ,’ Noah said. ‘ C’est une de mes spécialités .’
Was he teasing her again? Did he want a competition to see who could cook the best cauliflower cheese?
‘With truffles,’ Noah added. ‘Black truffles. And it happens to be the season for those particular truffles right now. We can buy them here.’
Laura bit her lip. Maybe he wasn’t teasing this time.
‘Do you use Dijon mustard?’
‘ Bien s?r . And Emmental cheese. With some Parmesan on the top along with the freshly grated truffle. I also know where to buy cheese here. Shall we go shopping?’
Laura couldn’t help it. She ran her tongue, slowly, over her bottom lip.
‘That does sound… delicious.’
But Noah didn’t seem to be listening. He was staring at her lips as if he could still see the trail of moisture her tongue had left behind, and Laura knew she’d lost the battle to prevent that uncontrolled heat from boiling over. Spears of sensation were escaping the confines of her belly and were reaching all the way to her fingertips and her toes with the speed of light. They were scrambling her brain.
And making her heart sing.
She was, in fact, dancing inside.
‘ Ce soir ,’ Noah murmured, his voice more than a little husky. ‘We shall make this cauliflower cheese of yours this evening, but together. With my truffles. D’accord ?’
Laura had to clear her own throat. She did her best to sound nonchalant. Francaise . She even threw in a subtle, careless shrug and an almost imperceptible purse of her lips.
‘ D’accord…’
* * *
The scent of the daffodils that filled the white jug Laura had found in the crockery cupboard had drifted right through La Maisonette’s kitchen and living area by the time Laura left to make her first visit to Noah’s home in St Paul de Vence later that afternoon.
She wasn’t feeling so nonchalant now. Something closer to the nervous point in a spectrum that ranged from dread to excitement was creating butterflies in her stomach and had, no doubt, been responsible for her taking the time to wash her hair, do her make-up and agonise over her limited choice of clothes before what felt like rather a significant rendezvous to cook a shared dinner. Should she go for her jeans and sloppy jumper and make this casual, or wear the dress she had chosen for Ellie’s wedding? Would it be too obvious that she was thinking about the night Noah had taken her to the Chèvre d’Or and she’d worn that sexy black dress? Would he remember the sound of that zip being undone and the way that silky fabric had simply melted off her body? Had she imagined how mesmerised he’d been by watching her lick her lips at the market?
Was she about to find out?
Noah’s home turned out to be part of an old mansion that had been beautifully converted into bespoke apartments. He met her at the front door of the huge house and Laura knew instantly that she’d made the right choice to go casual. Noah was also wearing jeans, with a black tee shirt, and the brief touch of eye contact made Laura wonder if he, too, was feeling a little nervous about the impulsive plan to make dinner together.
This wasn’t about cauliflower cheese at all, was it?
His apartment turned out to be the whole top floor of the building and it was literally breathtaking for Laura as she walked into a living area that had a curved wall with floor to ceiling glass and a view that was a postcard image of St Paul de Vence. The tall ramparts of the medieval town rose from a green swathe of trees that covered the lower part of the hillside, and the bell tower of the church stood out like a single fat candle offset on a birthday cake made up of a tumble of ancient stone houses in tawny, earthy shades of brown and gold and pale terracotta.
‘Oh, my goodness… this is stunning…’
‘Make yourself at home,’ Noah invited. ‘Please… sit down.’
There was a very comfortable-looking couch with a guitar propped against the end of it but Laura didn’t want to sit down yet. She went to a telescope positioned on a tripod at the central point of the windows, and as soon as Noah showed her how to turn a wheel to adjust the focus, it felt as if Laura could reach out and touch those stone walls of the village – the way Ellie had traced the stone flowers in the cobbled streets when they’d walked in the medieval village for the first time.
‘I can see the horse that’s made completely out of horseshoes,’ she exclaimed. ‘If it wasn’t starting to get dark, I think I’d be able to see the bells in the tower as well.’
‘But it’s so pretty when it’s getting dark, no?’ Noah was still standing beside Laura. ‘I can never decide what part of the day or season of the year is my favourite. There’s always something different to see. I love that a village can have a… what is it – a personnalité – a character all of its own.’
They watched the rose-gold tinge of sunset begin to kiss the stone walls of the ramparts and houses. Lights were coming on in the streets and windows and the village took on the fairy-tale sparkle of night-time and made Laura think of being there as the old year gave way to a new beginning.
And that, inevitably, made her think of the kiss…
The way Noah cleared his throat made her wonder if he was trying to distract himself from the same thought.
‘I have all our ingredients ready,’ he said. ‘Shall we start cooking?’
Laura had never imagined that the process of preparing food could be such an intimate experience. Right from the moment she washed her hands at the kitchen sink and Noah folded them into a soft, dry towel before putting his own hands under the running water. He didn’t simply slice up the cauliflower into small pieces, he divided it carefully into perfect florets to drop into the pot of boiling salted water, and it was hard to focus on her own task of grating cheese when she wanted to keep watching the movement of his hands. The rather funky aroma of the black truffle as it was also grated to go into the butter of the béchamel sauce was new to Laura and she had to wonder how those sulphurous notes could improve the flavour, but Noah seemed to know what he was doing.
She leaned against the kitchen bench, watching him whisking flour into the truffle and butter, then slowly adding milk and cheese and mustard, stirring it constantly with a well-used-looking wooden spoon.
How had she never realised how incredibly sexy it was to watch a man cooking? To stand in his kitchen, knowing that they would be sharing this meal when it was finished?
It was like being cared for when she was sick.
Being nurtured.
It felt remarkably like being loved.
Noah finally lifted the wooden spoon he had been using to stir the sauce and swiped his finger across it. He touched his tongue to his finger, looking up with a thoughtful expression as he considered the taste to find Laura was staring at him. There was just a hint of a smile as he nodded in satisfaction and then he swiped the spoon again and reached towards Laura to offer her a taste and…
…she was completely undone. She parted her lips, closing them again around his finger as she touched it with her tongue, and she knew that this was another tuerie .
Something so good, it was to die for.
And, as amazingly delicious as this sauce was, that wasn’t what she meant.
This time, it was Noah watching her and Laura couldn’t have broken that gaze even if her life had depended on it.
It was Noah who broke it. In complete silence, he poured the cheese sauce over the blanched cauliflower florets that were in a cast-iron baking dish, sprinkled Parmesan, breadcrumbs and more truffle over the top, put the dish into the oven and set a timer.
And then, still without saying a word, he held out both his hands and Laura put hers into them. He drew her closer, so slowly it felt dreamlike. Nothing was being said aloud but everything was being said in that eye contact.
Would it be okay? Is it safe?
Yes… it’s perfectly safe. And it would be more than okay.
Do you want this? As much as I do?
Yes… I think I want it even more…
It was the New Year’s Eve kiss all over again.
Only, this time, when they finally broke apart, they knew it wasn’t finished.
It was only just beginning.
* * *
Noah had not forgotten a single detail about Laura’s body.
The taste of her mouth.
The delicacy of her collarbone, just under that perfect skin, that could lead his fingers and his lips to the hollow at the base of her neck and then down to the exquisite firmness of those perfect breasts.
But while this was astonishingly familiar, given that he’d only taken Laura to bed on that one occasion, it was also completely new.
Her breasts were so much softer and even more luscious.
And that belly…
Oh, mon Dieu…
The roundness of it was the sexiest thing his hands had ever traced. This was yet another version of Laura Gilchrist, and it was definitely the most beautiful so far. Making love to her demanded reverence. Time. A gentleness that spoke of a need to offer protection Noah had never experienced in his sex life. A gentleness he was determined not to break even as the tiny sounds Laura was making were pleading with him to take them both over the edge.
Despite the assurance that this was safe for the baby, Noah had no intention of putting any of his weight on Laura’s belly but, in the end, it seemed an easy, mutual decision for her to turn, press her back against his body and lie in the circle of his arms, and… it was perfect. Not just for protection but to ensure he could take Laura to the release she desperately wanted before he allowed himself the pleasure of ultimate satisfaction.
He had no idea how long they lay like that, without moving, waiting to catch their breath and for their hearts to slow down. He didn’t want to move just yet. He wanted to feel Laura’s skin against his own and her hands beneath his as they rested on that sexy roundness of her belly. It seemed that she felt the same way.
And then he felt it.
A ripple of movement beneath their hands. A soft knock.
‘She’s awake,’ Laura whispered. ‘Did you feel that?’
Noah could still feel it, a prickle of awareness that touched something else that was completely new for him. He had seen this baby on the screen of the scanning machine, but this was the first time he had ever felt an unborn baby.
His baby.
He moved his hand so that it was directly on Laura’s skin, and when he felt another kick it was so much clearer. Because he’d seen that scan, he could visualise the tiny foot on the other side of that layer of skin and muscle. He could even imagine that this baby girl might be yawning at the same time. Or smiling?
He couldn’t identify how it was making him feel, maybe because that was too new as well. But it wasn’t a comfortable feeling and it was too close to being overwhelming.
Noah drew his hand away carefully. He pressed a kiss onto the back of Laura’s shoulder.
‘I can smell our dinner.’
‘Mmm… so can I.’
‘Are you hungry?’
‘Mmm…’
Laura turned her head and the look in her eyes made Noah want to forget about dinner or even checking that the oven had turned itself off and wasn’t going to ruin the food by burning it to a crisp.
The sheer force of the desire to stay here and make love to Laura all over again was almost irresistible. Until he remembered the sensation of feeling their baby move. Holding back what felt like a tsunami of emotion behind that memory was… kind of terrifying.
He rolled away and swung his legs over the side of the bed, reaching for his jeans that were puddled on the floor.
‘Five minutes,’ he said. ‘You will love it, I promise…’