Page 59 of A Chef's Kiss for Christmas

“Now I definitely need to know.” She propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her interlocked fingers as she looked at him eagerly.

He pulled a face at her, then got to work transferring the stew into the pan. “Edie’s husband, John, was quite an entrepreneur. He converted the garage himself and jumped on the Airbnb bandwagon right from the start.”

He scraped the remnants of the stew out with a spatula, then gave the pot a stir before turning and leaning against the sideboard. “I booked in for one night when I had my interview at the hotel. I didn’t know how long it would take, and I didn’t want to worry about getting back to London if it ended up being a long day. In the end it would have beenfine, but I’d booked and couldn’t cancel at the last minute, so I stayed anyway.”

Glancing at the stew, he folded his arms across his chest. “I was just about to fall asleep when I heard someone shouting for help. I ran over to the house to find John collapsed and Edie hysterical. I waited for the ambulance with them, then drove Edie to the hospital. It turned out John had had a stroke. I ended up staying at the hospital with Edie all night. We hardly spoke, but it bonded us.”

A lump thickened Anna’s throat, and she struggled to speak. “He died?”

“Not that night. He survived the stroke, but never left the hospital. He had a second stroke a week later that killed him.”

Tears pricked at the back of Anna’s eyes, and she couldn’t think of anything to say.

“I kept in touch with Edie. We were talking on the phone every couple of days. When I told her I’d got the job and was moving to the area, she offered for me to live here. She wasn’t keen to continue renting it to strangers without John around.” He inhaled deeply. “I think we both expected it to be more of a short-term thing, but it just works. For both of us.”

Anna touched the corners of her eyes to catch tears. “How come I’ve never heard that story before?”

He turned to stir the stew. “I never told Lewis.”

“Why not?”

“We weren’t friends when I first came here. It felt like a weird thing to say to my new boss… like maybe he’d think I was a bad omen or something.”

It occurred to her once again that Warren really had kept his head down for the first year that he’d worked at the hotel. Maybe it was because she was caught up in her relationship with Hayden, but she really hadn’t known Warren at all back then. He’d only started socialising with them in the last couple of years, when he and Lewis had become closer.

“You could have told him later,” she said gently.

“I could have, but it still feels like a weird story to tell.”

“I think it’s a nice story.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Weirdo!”

“I mean, apart from the fact that Edie’s husband died. That’s not nice, but it seemed like good timing that you were here to help her, and it’s sweet how attached to you Edie is.”

“It’s mutual,” he said flatly as he took bowls from the cupboard.

After putting one portion into a bowl, he gave Anna a stern look. “Make sure the rest doesn’t burn while I take this to Edie.”

“I think I can manage that.” She beamed. “I promise not to get distracted by my phone. I don’t want you shouting at me.”

At the door, he turned back and poked his tongue out. The sparkle in his eyes made her stomach flutter riotously.

Left alone, she inhaled a full breath and fought to calm her swirling emotions.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Having something to do kept Anna’s nerves at bay, and she stirred the thick stew while inhaling the hearty aroma. When it bubbled, she turned the hob off and moved the pan to the back ring. With no sign of Warren returning, her eyes roamed the humble kitchen, then she moved to nosey at the bathroom. It was small – with a toilet, sink, and a cubicle shower. Everything was neat and tidy, but presumably in such a small space you’d need to keep everything well organised.

Closing the bathroom door again, she wandered to the living room and ran her hand along the back of the two-seater couch, which faced the TV unit. The far wall contained floor to ceiling bookshelves, and she angled her head to read the titles. The mix of crime and action novels made her smile. She’d never imagined Warren to be a big reader.

After taking a few steps, she paused at the section of the bookcase dedicated to cookbooks. She supposed it shouldn’t be a surprise given his profession, but there were just so many – from the familiar celebrity chefs, to names she’d never heard of, and books dedicated to speciality cuisine.

The only window in the room looked out onto theneighbouring garden, and she watched a robin hop along the branch of a small bush. Turning towards the door, she listened for Warren, but with everything quiet, her eyes drifted to his bedroom before she wandered back there.

She’d just stuck her head around the door when the sound of Warren’s voice startled her.

“Snooping?” he asked casually.