Page 30 of A Copenhagen Snowmance

Chapter Twenty-Two

In spite of the city’s lights, up from the top of Rundet?rnet, Jamie and Anna are gazing at the stars.

Regardless of the eggshelly way they are navigating each other around the house, he was very fast in the uptake for this. All signs now suggest Jamie is someone who constantly says yes to life, which makes more sense to her now she knows his backstory.

Having scaled the spiral walkway to the top – designed for a king who preferred not to get out of his carriage – they’ve been given a tour of the small observatory and each had a look to see the planets visible tonight.

“I’ve been here many times,” says Anna, “but never in with the actual telescope.” And she’d never known her Venus from her Mercury. Nor her Saturn or Jupiter, for that matter.

“And how did we get these tickets?”

“Work,” says Anna. “Tomorrow I get to pay with words.”

“Well, I’m grateful,” Jamie says, stepping back out of the observatory – Europe’s oldest functioning observatory, no less – and onto the observation deck.

Together, they move to the side of the circular walkway, which gives them views across the city and as far as the lights of Sweden, but also down into the nearby apartments, lit and cosy, many with Christmas lights.

Leaning against the safety fencing, Anna watches the inhabitants sitting down for dinner and others settling into cosy sofas with their thick knitted socks or felt slippers, the glow of flickering candles surrounding them.

It gives her a pang of something she doesn’t want to put a name to, and she turns quickly back towards the tower door to block it out.

Only, Jamie is right there in front of her and he’s wearing an expression of concern.

“I’m really sorry,” he says, his eyes a little wild.

“For what?” Anna replies, alarmed. He was grateful just a moment ago.

“This,” he says and then his hands are cupping her face, tilting it upwards as his own descends to meet it, his lips settling onto hers. There’s no nose-bumping in directional confusion, only pure pinpoint accuracy, as though they’re made to fit perfectly.

Anna’s eyes widen in surprise for just a second, then slide shut, mirroring her mental glide into this kiss.

She could be thinking, WTF? or How dare he?

or What is going on, Jamie? But, no. Her entire being simply slips under the surface without a thought for survival, which is something she might consider reflecting on later, but not right now.

Instead, wrapped up in this kiss – and she can’t deny she’s become an equal participant, really she can’t – Anna’s one hand slips to his neck and the other rises to the chain links of the safety fencing behind her, her fingers threading through them.

She’s hanging on for her own safety, but she doubts this is what the authorities had had in mind.

Jamie backs her up a step, but having nowhere to go, the move simply presses her hips to his. It’s a million miles from the tentative, enquiring kiss under the sofa. It’s a kiss that says, I know you said we couldn’t pursue it, but here’s what’s on the table.

She’d like him on a table, truth be told.

The thought of it, the images and the expected feel of it, suddenly fills Anna’s head and her body fills with heat.

His thumb rubs softly along the curve of her jaw, which makes her involuntarily sigh.

His lips stretch into a smile against hers and a low chuckle rumbles in his chest, pressed against her.

Finally, Jamie pulls away, his eyes locked on hers.

He does not appear as breathless as she feels, which is, frankly, disappointing, but to save her pride she puts it down to him having larger lung capacity.

“Again, I’m sorry,” he says, low. And then he briefly crosses his eyes at her, which is comical.

Anna’s jaw flaps in confusion. Was he just swept up in the moment or—

“Hej!” The voice comes from behind Jamie. He gives her a faint smile now, as things become clearer. Smilla stands beaming behind him, wrapped up in numerous layers, just as they are. And with her is … Anders. Who is holding her hand. Anna tilts her head at them. Anders’ face turns pink.

“Yes. So, it’s new. We’re trying it out.” And now Smilla’s face is turning pink, too. Cute, thinks Anna, well versed in this brand of awkwardness now and enjoying someone else having a turn. Jamie simply gives Anders’ shoulder a squeeze.

“I thought it was you,” says Smilla to Jamie, “but I wasn’t sure as your back was turned and then … you know,” she waggles a finger between him and Anna, “and then I knew.”

Anna gives Jamie a bug-eyed look. Their making out has become some kind of signature.

“You know how it is,” Jamie tries. “It’s the stars and the lights.” Smilla and Anders look at him, agog.

“Jamie just gets overwhelmed by the romance of it all,” Anna can’t help but interject. Smilla looks at her, starry-eyed. Jamie looks … less so.

“Right,” says Smilla, “we’re next into the telescope. It was hyggeligt to see you.”

Anna sends them a smile and watches them disappear into the observatory. Her eyes track back to Jamie, who’s watching her with narrowed eyes.

“You just made my working day harder.”

This makes her laugh. “What, for being a swoony romantic? You started this, MacDonald, and that kiss was on you.”

His brows knit but he knows he hasn’t a leg to stand on.

“Besides,” Anna points out, “they were out on an early date. Unless they want to risk you blabbing about it, they’ll not tease you too much for your smoochy ways.”

He takes a step forward and Anna knows for sure he’s about to show her more of his smoochy ways, as punishment.

She places a palm on his chest, and he halts immediately.

He searches her face and she doesn’t need to say it.

Much as she enjoys it, much as it does things to her and makes her want to scale him, these kisses are just for show, just their deal, and she can’t let it become more.

It’s for his own sake, she reminds herself.

Jamie raises his hand above her head, weaving his fingers into the chain link, caging her.

She could easily slide out to the side if she wanted to, but she feels no compulsion to move away at all.

Instead she looks up into his face, trying not to look like she’s drinking it in, waiting for what he wants to say.

“Is it always like this for you? You feel it, right?”

She’s not sure what the best answer is? Honesty should be it, but she doesn’t want to encourage him, not when there’s no future for them. But maaan, those kisses…

“No,” she says, and she sees a muscle twitch in his jaw.

“I mean, no it’s not always like this. And I do feel it.

” She feels better for being truthful, but bad for the shine in his eyes.

“I’m still leaving, though. And as much as you’ve made it better being back here, the city still feels like an estranged relative I’ve just met in the street.

Like you’re initially pleased to see them, then you remember why you shouldn’t be.

I’ve started a new life elsewhere, just as you have here.

So I can’t help but think our timing is off.

Our lifestyle needs are different. And more than anything, I don’t want to mess you about.

I know my heart is still bruised, and I suspect yours is, too, so what good would it do, acting on this? ”

His smile spreads to something rather wolfish. “Well, more of those kisses would be good.”

They would be good. So good. Too good.

“I’ve read a romance or two in my time,” Jamie goes on, “by way of small hotels with lousy Wi-Fi and a less than eclectic in-house library, so I understand the concept of Happy For Now. I feel it’s only fair to state I’m open to that.

” He leans down to breathe into her hair, “So if you change your mind, just let me know…”

Her face flushes. The skin at her ear rises with goosebumps, because the thought of throwing all rules and restraint aside and rolling with this has all sorts of heat pooling in her lower belly. It also has her tongue-tied.

Jamie lets go of the chain link and Anna instantly feels colder for it.

Then he takes hold of her collars and pulls them to, only skimming her with his fingertips, but it’s enough to have an effect and she suspects this is exactly his intention.

He takes a breath to speak. Anna, with a sudden knot of anticipation and trepidation, looks up at him with wide eyes, waiting, desperate to know what he’ll say next, what words might come out of his mouth to blow her off the edge of her sensible thinking.

Because it will, and it will only need to be the lightest of breezes.

“Time to go, Lundholm. I’ve got an early meeting tomorrow,” he says at last.

Oh.

* * *

They walk back up K?bmagergade, past the closed shops, window-shopping at Arnold Busck the bookstore, and still talking about the magic of the stars above the city.

They walk close, hands in pockets, arms almost rubbing, but not quite.

Almost as if it’s the safest option. Anna’s hand twitches to slide between his arm and body, for her to lean in and be close.

She keeps shooting him sideways glances, thinking about her confusion of feelings for him.

There is this pull – that’s the only way she can describe it – but also the push of everything around them; her situation, the city, her break-up with Carl.

And now that her head is getting in there, there’s still the worry about him having lied to her.

She understands why he did it, and he seems genuinely contrite, but it’s still a reminder that people lie, about all sorts of things, and Anna doesn’t know how to work with that.

That said, she can’t deny she’s slightly hoping Smilla will appear again, so she’ll have the excuse.