Chapter Sixteen
It was ten o’clock and Anna thought Maisie was finally, finally looking sleepy.
Not that her daughter was willing to admit it.
She was currently sitting cross legged on one of Dan’s bar stools, taking a sip of milk out of a cocktail glass, little finger raised, like she must have seen women on the television do.
Then swirling the contents with the plastic cocktail stirrer Dan had given her.
The same Dan who had bent over backwards to make sure Maise felt at home since they’d taken over his Victorian terrace in Clapham two hours ago.
To call it simply a terrace was like calling a Rolls Royce a car.
It was beautiful. Carefully restored, immaculately furnished, it made her own home feel shabby and unloved.
Even with her scrumptious and totally awesome purple velvet sofa.
Yet as much as she admired his house, with the stained wood floorboards, the original fireplaces, the state-of-the-art kitchen that gleamed so much she wondered if he ever used it, it seemed more like a show home, than a real home. It lacked a soul, a heart.
Maisie’s giggles bounced off the walls as Dan poured a blue dye into her milk. ‘OMG. That’s wicked.’
Anna smiled to herself. Perhaps all Dan’s house actually lacked was a child.
Feeling a sudden wave of tenderness, of love, she walked up behind Maisie and wrapped her arms around her. ‘You know it’s time to go to bed, don’t you?’
Maisie gave her that winsome, butter-wouldn’t-melt smile. ‘I’ve got to finish my drink.’ She lifted the sky-blue concoction up to her lips, the contents swirling dangerously close to the edge.
‘Looks like the lady’s gone for shaken and stirred,’ Dan murmured, lifting his eyebrow in a fairly decent impression of James Bond.
Anna wasn’t sure if Maisie understood the Bond reference, but she giggled again, clearly enjoying being the focus of the man smiling at her from the other side of the breakfast bar.
‘You know, this bar is happy for customers to take their drinks to their room.’ Briefly Dan’s eyes caught Anna’s over Maisie’s shoulder and as they shared a smile, Anna’s heart jumped into her throat.
God, that mouth, those eyes. The promise that lay in them, if she wasn’t too scared to take him up on it.
‘Can I take it to the green room? The one where I put my bag?’
Dan eased the glass from Maisie’s hands. ‘As chief bartender, handling the drinks is my job. But certainly, I will take it to your room, ma’am.’
He bowed, and Maisie’s laughter filled the air again as she followed him out of the kitchen. Feeling marginally left out, Anna followed them.
‘You’re mad,’ Maisie proclaimed as she scampered behind him up the stairs.
‘Me, mad?’ He looked pointedly at the glass he was holding. ‘I’m not the one drinking blue milk.’
It was fascinating to see this side of him, Anna thought as she watched him carefully place the glass on the bedside table in the back bedroom.
It was clearly Max’s room, or had been, before their relationship had broken down.
There were pictures of cars on the wall, a train set neatly made up in the corner.
She wondered how hard it was for Dan to walk past the room and see it so obviously unused.
‘I’ll leave your mum to show you the bathroom, and where she’ll be sleeping.
’ Anna met his eyes, and silently thanked him for his tact.
Whatever happened tonight — and just the thought of it had the butterflies waking in her stomach — whatever happened, it was important Maisie knew where to find her.
And if she did need her, that she’d find her mum alone in her bed.
After a quick change into her pjs and a tired but valiant effort with the toothbrush, Maisie flopped into the bed. ‘This weekend is amazeballs,’ she said on a yawn.
‘It’s only just started. We’re meeting Dan’s son Max tomorrow, and then we’re all going to see The Lion King.’
‘That’s so sick.’ Maisie’s eyes started to close, though her mouth was smiling. ‘Do you think Max will be as funny as Dan?’
‘I think,’ Anna said carefully, ‘that Max might be a bit shy at first, so we’ll have to be kind and patient with him until he gets to know us.’
Maisie’s eyes blinked open. ‘Like when a new boy starts at school?’
Anna smiled and gave her daughter a tender kiss on the forehead. ‘Exactly like that.’
It took five seconds for Maisie to fall asleep.
It took five minutes for Anna to admit to herself she was still sitting by Maisie’s bed because she was . . . nervous wasn’t the right word. Unsure of going downstairs. When she did, she’d be without the barrier of Maisie, or school, or some other public place.
It would be just her and Dan.
Closing her eyes, she tried to picture Chris, but though she could see his smile, the moss green of his eyes, the image wasn’t as clear as usual and she felt a slither of panic.
Was that normal? Was it okay for her memory of him to begin to fade?
For the vital, powerfully attractive image of Dan Ramsey to seep into its place?
Val was right, Chris would have wanted her to find someone else. For Maisie to have another father figure. Yet she couldn’t shake off the guilt of thinking of another man, when Chris had been the love of her life. Chris had been the one she’d promised herself to.
Feeling unsettled, she walked to the room Dan had set aside for her. Done out in a pastel blue, with a silver-grey bedspread and oak furniture it was fresh and calming. Needing another minute, she pulled out her phone and checked for her messages. There were two, one from Faith and one from Gabby.
Gabby’s read:
Don’t look back, look forward. I hope you and Maisie have a fabulous weekend. And I hope you and the handsome Mr Ramsey get some alone time J
Anna felt ripples of excitement bump against the nerves, pushing the latter aside.
Faith’s read:
Enjoy, enjoy, enjoy, you deserve some fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do . . . and I only say that because it leaves you sooo much scope xxx
A ball of emotion, of love mixed with nostalgia settled in the back of her throat. Her friends had correctly guessed how she’d feel, and tried to give her a gentle push.
The rest was up to her.
* * *
Dan jumped up from the sofa and started to pace. Maisie had looked dead on her feet, so the only logical reason Anna wasn’t back downstairs was because she was having second thoughts.
Damn it, had he pushed her too hard? Should he have waited a few more weeks, let her get to know him more, before inviting her down? He hated to think of her up there stewing, regretting her rash decision to stay with him.
Feeling twitchy, restless, keyed up, he went back into the kitchen.
There he plucked a glass and the whisky bottle out from the drinks cabinet and carried them back to the sitting room, placing them on the coffee table.
Remembering his guest, he went back to grab a wine glass and a bottle of Merlot.
And another whisky glass, because Anna wasn’t like other women he’d entertained. She wasn’t so easy to predict.
He'd just knocked back a mouthful of eighteen-year-old Glenlivet, when Anna stepped back into the room.
His heart damn near leapt out of his chest. Giving himself a second to gather himself, he set the glass back on the table. ‘Is Maisie okay?’
Anna’s smile was just uncertain enough, hesitant enough, to bring his fears into sharp focus. ‘She’s fast asleep. She crashed the moment her head touched the pillow.’
Then what have you been doing since? The words hovered, but he swallowed them back.
Instead, he patted the seat next to him.
‘Come and sit down.’ She sat not too far away that he feared all was lost, but not so close he was reassured.
‘And how about you? Are you okay?’ he asked softly, reaching for her hand.
‘If you say you’re not sure, you’re wondering what you’re doing here, you’re tired and you want to call it a night, I understand.
’ He peered deep into her eyes. ‘I’m not expecting anything from the weekend but your company, Anna.
’ He smiled, hoping to reassure her. ‘Frankly, I’m incredibly grateful you’re here at all.
That I didn’t totally ruin things between us. ’
Her expression relaxed, the beginnings of a smile on her lips. ‘I hope you’re still saying that when Maisie’s spills blue milk all over your bedroom carpet.’
Relief made him laugh out loud. ‘I did think a cocktail glass probably wasn’t the best drinking container to put by her bedside, but she seemed so struck by it.’
Anna’s hand squeezed his. ‘She was. Thank you for making a fuss of her. She was in her element.’
‘Hey, that wasn’t me making a fuss of her, that was me enjoying her.
’ Deciding she didn’t look like she was about to scarper any time soon, he pressed a gentle kiss on her mouth.
‘Now I’d like to enjoy you.’ Anna’s eyebrows rose to her hairline, making him laugh.
‘Before you get any ideas, I mean I’d like to have a drink with you.
’ He nodded down to the bottles. ‘Wine or whisky?’
‘That’s like asking me would I prefer cheese or chocolate. Roses or tulips.’ Her breath came out a long, sweet exhale. ‘How am I supposed to decide?’
He grabbed the wine bottle, unscrewed the cap, and poured her out a healthy measure.
Then did the same with the whisky, topping himself up while he was at it.
‘You’re on holiday. No decisions necessary.
’ He handed her the wine, lining the whisky glass up in front of her for later. ‘Here’s to a good weekend.’
Smiling, she took a sip, then sighed in appreciation. ‘This is nice.’
‘The wine? It’s only an average Merlot.’
Laughing softly, she tucked her feet under her, eyes glittering against the low light of the room. ‘As it happens, I’m an average-Merlot kind of girl. But actually I meant the excitement of being in London with Maisie. Sitting here, in your swanky house.’ She paused, glanced up at him. ‘With you.’
Suddenly he was bathing in the most incredible smile. All soft and warm and full of trust. It caused a squeeze to his chest. ‘I’m glad. You took so long coming back downstairs, I started to worry you were going to bolt.’
‘I never considered bolting.’ She took another sip of wine, peering at him from under her lashes. ‘I did need a few minutes to settle my nerves.’
‘And now?’
She laughed. ‘Now I’m drinking wine, with a whisky chaser already lined up. My nerves have gone.’
He hadn’t needed the words, because he could see her relaxing in front of his eyes.
It made him realise she was stronger than he’d given her credit for.
If she’d wanted to leave, she wouldn’t have hidden upstairs, she’d have faced him and told him so.
‘What about if I tell you I’ve been dying to kiss you all evening?
’ Leaving his glass on the table, he cupped her face in his hands.
‘Will the nerves come back? Because I understand if that happens, but I want to remind you we’re still dipping our toes into the water.
You don’t need to take a swim.’ He smiled into her eyes.
‘Though obviously if you do, it’s only fair to point out that I’ll be eagerly laying out the towels. ’
A laugh whooshed out of her. ‘What is it with you and the water analogies?’ She appeared to carefully consider her next words. ‘I’m not nervous about kissing you. It’s more that I’m nervous about where it may take me. That I’ll feel unfaithful to Chris.’
Jealousy darted through him, unwanted and shameful because he had no right to be jealous of a man she’d met years before him.
A man she’d married, had a daughter with and who’d traumatically died.
On a sigh he drew away, unsure what to say.
Selfishly he didn’t want her thinking of another man, but that was his issue, not hers.
‘Would you like another drink while you decide? Something to snack on while you drink?’
He watched her lean forward and place her empty glass on the table.
Then pick up the whisky and drink it back in one go.
‘What I’d like.’ She started to cough, the burn of the whisky clearly hitting the back of her throat.
‘What I’d like, is to see your bedroom.’ Her eyes started to water and she began to laugh.
‘And that would have sounded so much sexier if I wasn’t dying of whisky inhalation. ’
‘Anna.’ He shook his head, overwhelmed by her.
There was no pretence, no guile. She was refreshing, genuine.
And utterly lovely with it. ‘You couldn’t be any sexier to me now.
’ His eyes roamed over her face, then travelled further down, over the gentle curve of her chest. ‘This request to see my room, is it to admire the décor, or feel the quality of the mattress?’
She swallowed, and though she’d said she wasn’t nervous, he could see she wasn’t entirely comfortable. The thought made him ache, because much as he wanted her in his room, in his bed, he didn’t want her there until she was one hundred per cent sure it was what she wanted.
And selfishly he wanted to be the only man on her mind when that happened.
If that happened.
‘Can we just go up and see what happens?’ Her smile was slightly shaky, but her eyes were direct and unwavering on his.
Such trust, he thought, and in him, despite the playboy rumours she’d heard. Despite how he’d let her down this week. She was bestowing on him the honour of being the first man she’d be intimate with since her husband. And trusting him to look after her.
The weight of that responsibility settled over him but he accepted it gladly, deeply touched.
He was not going to let her down again. Rising to his feet, he held out his hand and tugged her gently to her feet.