12 Days At Silver Bells House by Jennie Jones Page B

back from the cosiness she portrayed in case he suddenly sank onto the Chesterfield, hands behind his head, feet crossed on the arm and asked her to fetch him a beer.
    â€˜Okay.’ She looked up, knives and forks in her hand. ‘I’m not going to mention the glass-cleaner squeegee tool I found in your vanity unit, because of course, it isn’t my bathroom and therefore I’m in no position to ask you to use it after you’ve finished in the shower.’
    Jamie grinned. ‘Ouch,’ he said, and took another step back. ‘I think you just grabbed the landlord by his Bojangles.’
    She laughed. ‘Nice one.’ She’d kept her hair loose tonight. It fell neatly over her shoulders. ‘You’ve got twenty minutes to clean up,’ she told him. ‘And if you’re a really good landlord and use the squeegee tool, there’ll be a cold beer waiting for you.’
    â€˜I’m outta here.’ Jamie held his hands up in defence and left the room before he succumbed and laid himself out flat on the Chesterfield.
    ****
    Even though he’d assembled the lamb casserole and shoved it in the oven yesterday, having it served by Kate this evening made it feel like she’d hunted, shot, skinned and cooked for her man. She’d set the table to perfection. Knives and forks aligned, water glasses and wine glasses to one side of the dinner plates. And a mat for his bottle of beer which dripped condensation.
    â€˜Beautiful, Kate,’ he said, putting his napkin onto the table and pushing his empty plate to one side. ‘Thank you.’
    â€˜There’s fruit for dessert. Would you like some? No cream though.’ She wagged her finger. ‘Just as well. Don’t want us getting fat.’
    â€˜Are you having fruit?’
    She shook her head and put her hands onto her stomach. ‘Couldn’t fit anything else in.’
    Jamie smiled. ‘So what are we doing now? Fancy a game?’
    She pushed her chair away from the table and stood. ‘I’d only beat you.’
    â€˜You mean you’d only cheat and beat me.’
    She laughed. Then sighed. ‘I’m tired.’ She looked away. ‘I don’t know why I’m so tired, Jamie.’
    The use of his name held an appeal. One that had him wanting to put his arms around her and give her a warm sweet hug. She looked rested alright, but there was also an aura of mental exhaustion around her. The same one he’d seen when he first met her in the paddock. Her flapping emotions seemed to have settled down somewhat, but perhaps they’d only turned into something deeper and more expressively meaningful for her.
    â€˜Want to come outside?’ he asked, standing.
    She looked across at him, questioningly. ‘I’d planned on maybe having the fruit salad outside on the patio.’ She sighed and looked away. ‘I think I’ve lost my hunger, Jamie.’
    Jamie knew she didn’t mean for food. He picked up the ice bucket with her wine in it and his bottle of beer and walked to the patio doors. He opened them, letting the night invade the kitchen. ‘Come on, Katie. Let’s go sit under the stars and you can tell me your story.’
    She gave him a wry smile. ‘You want to hear it?’
    He nodded and stepped outside. ‘Come on.’
    She followed him. He held the door open for her. ‘Amazing,’ she said, lowering herself onto one of the sun loungers on the patio, sprawling flat out and staring up at the sky.
    â€˜Isn’t it?’ Jamie answered as he sat on the other lounger. He lowered himself a little more cautiously to a lying position and crossed his feet at the ankles.
    â€˜The ceiling of the country,’ she murmured.
    Jamie had to agree, although he said nothing. The night sky spread above them, an endless summer-blue shadow. Not a cloud in sight, the stars dusting the sky like a gentle snow storm in a glass bowl.
    â€˜So