Page 72 of A Chef's Kiss for Christmas

“It’s fine.” Anna glanced at the bed. “The bed is enormous, and I don’t want to put your mum to any trouble.” Her eyes darted to Warren. “Unless it’s an issue for you,” she said, her stomach tightening at the thought that he’d rather they have separate rooms. “If you’re not comfortable sharing, then ask your mum if there’s another option.”

He hesitated for long enough that Anna felt a pang of disappointment.

“I’m not sure what your brother would think about us sharing a bed,” he finally said.

Her eyebrows twitched together. “Why does it matter what my brother would think?”

“Normally it wouldn’t matter, but your brother is my best friend, so his opinion about it matters.”

“Call Lewis then and ask.” Shaking her head, she turned away from him.

“Is that a joke?” he asked.

“I just think it’s stupid that you think it matters what Lewis thinks.”

“I’ll sleep in a different room,” he said firmly.

Disappointment hit her in a wave, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it as Warren continued speaking.

“I don’t even know how you talked me into this,” he grumbled. “I didn’t want to come. I think that was quite clear. Why the heck didyouwant to come?”

Her heart was going crazy. Any hint of confrontation put her on edge. For the life of her she couldn’t remember why she’d agreed to come. And especially not why she’dwantedto come.

“I don’t know,” she replied so quietly she wasn’t sure her words were even audible.

Part of her expected him to apologise for snapping at her, but when she turned, he was perched on the end of the bed, hunched over, with his elbows resting on his knees. Suddenly, she suspected his bad mood wasn’t anything to do with her and the sleeping arrangements.

When they’d arrived, it hadn’t struck her as particularly odd that his parents hadn’t appeared to say hello, but now it seemed rude. She tried to imagine how she’d feel if it were her parents, but couldn’t quite manage it. Even after a few days of not seeing them, her parents greeted her as though it had been years.

“So this used to be a playroom?” she asked, breaking the silence after a few minutes.

He massaged the back of his neck, looking for a moment as though he might ignore her. “It’s completely different now.”

She nodded slowly, wishing her heart would calmdown since she was starting to feel queasy. “I guess a lack of toys changes the vibe a little.”

A shadow of a smile played on his lips. “It was bigger,” he said, then pointed across the room. “They added a bathroom.”

Gathering her courage, she moved to sit beside him on the bed. “What’s your favourite memory from this house?”

“I don’t know.”

“You must have some good memories. I bet this was an amazing place to play hide and seek.”

“It’s not as good as you’d think,” he said. “We could only play on one floor at a time. If we could hide anywhere in the house, it was too difficult.”

“I didn’t think of that,” she mused.

He stayed silent for a moment. “The garden was my favourite.”

“Yeah?”

“Not even the garden.” He stood and went to the window. “The fields beyond the garden. I used to love jumping over the wall and taking off into the fields. There are woods down in the valley with a stream running through. I’d go off with a net and a bucket and I could spend all day out there seeing what creatures I could find in the stream.”

“That sounds very wholesome.”

He stared out of the window. “It was my favourite thing about my childhood. I had my favourite trees to climb too.”

“Show me,” she said, staring at his profile.