Chapter 38
THIRTY-EIGHT
Kate stared thoughtfully across the kitchen at Sam the next morning as she finished up the icing on the chocolate log. She put the spoon in her mouth and savoured the leftover chocolate, trying not to laugh when Sam caught her and his face opened up into incredulous accusation.
‘That’s full-on gross , Miss Hunter,’ he admonished.
‘Why? I’m done – I’m not putting the spoon back on the log,’ she replied in defence.
He grinned and shook his head. ‘Cora would have you shot on the spot. She was always very particular when it came to kitchen hygiene.’
‘Oh yeah?’ Kate kinked an eyebrow and dipped her finger into the spare chocolate icing. ‘And what would she think of this?’
She shot him a mischievous look and then flicked the chocolate over the counter at him. It hit him square on the nose, and she burst out laughing at the shock on his face.
‘Alright,’ he said, nodding with a grim smile. ‘You asked for it.’ He leaped around the counter, diving for the icing, and Kate shrieked, grabbing the bowl and darting out of the way.
Despite the fact she’d not had much sleep, Kate felt a lot better this morning than she had in a while. She hadn’t walked into Sam’s room the night before, realising as she’d stood there in the dark hallway that the thing she needed to do for herself was not him . Not right then, at least. It had been hard to turn back round, having got so close to giving in. But hard and frustrating as it was, she’d realised she wasn’t prepared to lose her self-respect. Especially not for such a fleeting pleasure as a one-night affair.
No. She knew she needed to do something for herself that would last. Something great. Something worthy. So she’d stayed up long into the night working out exactly what that was and exactly how she was going to get it. And as Christmas morning finally dawned, Kate had the outlines of a plan. A plan of something she could be proud of and that truly excited her.
‘OK, OK, I surrender!’ Sam called, lifting his arms in the air as Kate pelted him mercilessly with leftover sultanas.
‘Really?’ she asked, pausing with a look of suspicion.
Sam thought it over with a tilt of the head and then nodded. ‘Yeah. I could take you, but I’m honestly too tired. Truce?’
‘Absolutely not,’ Kate retorted indignantly. ‘I won fair and square.’
Sam laughed. ‘Fine. Take it. You win.’ He shook his head, and the pair of them set about collecting all the rogue food bullets now scattered around the room.
Kate watched him as they worked in natural sync, a small smile playing across her lips. She’d thought a lot about Sam, too, overnight. About the way he made her feel. Then she’d thought back to her father’s words about the bigger picture, about the fact there was really no such thing. That life’s big picture was really just a collection of moments all strung together. When she looked back over all her memories with Lance across the last few months, she’d been surprised to realise all she could see was stress and unhappiness and restraint. And this was a pattern that went back much further than his surprise proposal. They’d had their good times, but they’d come at a cost Kate hadn’t realised she’d been paying.
She’d realised, as she analysed it all now from this distance, that over time she’d become less and less herself in a bid to become what he wanted her to be. It had been even more sobering to realise that she’d been doing this to herself for much longer than Lance had been around. She’d been trying to live up to everyone else’s expectations of her for far too long. And she had no idea when she’d started sacrificing parts of herself that way, but she knew it was time for her to stop. No matter how terrifying that prospect was.
When her thoughts had then wandered back over her time with Sam – their initial mutual hatred aside – she realised she’d felt happier and more inspired in this time than she had in as long as she could remember. And while she knew it was easy to feel positively about someone new, she also knew that this was different. They hadn’t started off in the rose-tinted phase of most new relationships. They hadn’t even started off on the right foot. They’d suffered the worst of each other’s ugliest side and had been through more together than some people go through in a decade. And yet despite all odds, and their best efforts not to, they’d grown closer and had become a genuine source of happiness in each other’s lives. But this wasn’t something she could allow herself to think about just yet. She had a few more pressing things to deal with right now.
Sam looked sideways at her, and she caught his gaze with a look of question. ‘What’s up?’
‘Listen, about last night,’ he said, his tone a trifle awkward. ‘I don’t want to overstep the mark and ruin anything today, but I just want you to know that whatever I – that – ah …’ He turned to face her but looked away, struggling to find the right words.
Kate’s stomach did a small flip, and she carefully neutralised her expression as she waited, not quite sure if the feelings his words had stirred up inside her were of hope or panic. She couldn’t have this conversation with him, not yet. No matter how much part of her wanted to.
‘I think, er, I think it’s pretty clear that I think a lot of you, Kate,’ Sam continued. ‘I just want you to know that I wouldn’t ever – I wouldn’t – I just – look … I know you’re getting married in just a few days, and I want you to know that?—’
‘Sam.’ Kate couldn’t stop herself reaching out, and they both stared at her hand on his for a moment. ‘Listen.’ She bit her lip, torn as his eyes moved up to meet hers. ‘Things aren’t exactly the way they seem. Or the way they were , perhaps. I don’t know. I, um…’ Kate shook her head. ‘Look, when I get back to London—’ she started carefully, but the rest of her sentence was cut short as a loud knock sounded at the door.
They shared a confused glance, and then Sam stepped back.
‘Are you expecting anyone?’ Kate asked, relieved at the interruption.
Sam shook his head. ‘No.’ He moved away from her reluctantly. ‘I’ll see who it is.’
‘OK.’ Kate turned back to the counter with a deep, calming breath.
Whoever it was, they couldn’t have come at a better time.
She walked to the fridge and pulled out the custard she’d made earlier and took it back to the island with a determinedly bright grin. It was Christmas Day, and that was what she would focus on. Hopefully their guest would stay a while and be the distraction she needed from the words that remained – just about – unspoken between her and Sam.
‘We have enough food for a small army, by the way,’ she called out as she heard Sam open the door. ‘So if whoever it is wants to stay for food, they’re more than welcome, though I’d possibly avoid the custard.’ She grimaced at it.
‘Well, that’s certainly good to hear,’ came a familiar voice. ‘Because after that journey, I’m absolutely starving.’
Kate twirled around with a gasp and dropped the spoon to the floor with a clatter. The lumpy custard splattered up her favourite oversized beige jumper and onto her cheek. But she didn’t notice any of that, because Lance was standing in the doorway, all dressed up in his Armani suit. He smiled at her, and Kate’s heart plummeted. She glanced past him to Sam, trying to gauge his reaction, but it was unreadable. Then Lance walked forward, blocking him from view entirely. He held out a bottle of champagne with a big blue Tiffany’s box.
‘Merry Christmas, darling.’