Page 28 of Here in My Heart (Here Together #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Ade had worried that the near-kiss at the Christmas fair was enough to put Sylvie off forever.

The few messages they’d exchanged since had been courteous and functional, with Sylvie reminding Ade of her travel plans over the holidays.

But the spark between them had been all but extinguished by Paul’s interruption.

And it seemed neither of them were brave enough to relight the flame.

When Sylvie messaged with a surprise invitation to her parents’ house for Christmas Eve, Ade almost didn’t believe it. But Steph had talked her into going, insisting that she didn’t need babysitting, as long as Ade was back for Christmas morning.

Installed in the train carriage, Ade traced the line of her journey along the map and watched the coastline bend and break through the window, until it came to halt in a picturesque, tiny station about an hour down the track.

As promised, Sylvie was waiting when Ade jumped down onto the platform. Against the winter morning, Sylvie’s radiance shone like the sun itself bounced off her. The days they’d been apart shrank in significance, and Ade wondered how she’d ever doubted Sylvie’s sincere invitation.

She hoisted her bag crammed with gifts onto her shoulder; she’d already bought something for Sylvie but had run out for a couple of last-minute purchases for Elda and Charlie’s two young boys.

She’d figured a bottle of wine would suffice for the adult strangers.

She wasn’t used to buying gifts of any kind, especially for people she didn’t know.

Butterflies erupted in her stomach as the idea of meeting new people dawned on her.

That and the closing distance between her and Sylvie.

What should she do? Should they hug? Not knowing whether to pick up from their chemistry-laden confession on Thursday night, she dipped her head, avoiding eye contact.

If she didn’t make the first move, Sylvie would, and Ade could happily follow.

“Happy Christmas Eve.” Sylvie reached for Ade’s bulging rucksack. “Here, let me put that in the car.”

“Sure,” Ade said.

No kiss. No hug. But the warmth of her greeting was more than she’d reserve for just a friend. Its intimacy promised something, even if Ade couldn’t pin it down there and then. “Thank you. For the invitation, too. Thank you.” Smooth .

“I’m glad you came.” Sylvie held her gaze for a moment. “Let’s get going.”

Ade took the passenger seat, glad of a reason to face forward and avoid eye contact while she steadied her heart rate.

She had no idea which route they’d take from here, but for once, the road ahead didn’t cloud her mind.

Ade lingered on the unfinished kiss which hung between them, and she breathed in the frisson of expectation in the air, like either could turn and make it right at any moment.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to message you,” Sylvie said, putting her sunglasses on.

Ade tapped her foot in the well of the car. “I was wondering if I’d done something wrong on Thursday night.”

Sylvie’s flicked her gaze toward her. “Not at all.” She took a deep breath. “It was a mis?—”

“A mistake?” Ade’s fears manifested, and she regretted making the journey just for Sylvie to let her down.

“No. A missed opportunity.” Sylvie smiled. “Relax, Ade. I wanted to kiss you. Badly. I just didn’t want to have to explain myself immediately to my boss. Our timing was off, that’s all.” She looked into Ade’s eyes. “But I’m glad you’re here now. ”

Ade’s muscles eased, and she melted into the seat. “I wanted to kiss you too.” She ran her hands across her hair, pulling at her frustration. Her desire didn’t belong in the past tense. It was here and now.

Their sighs met in the middle. Sylvie rested her hand for a second on Ade’s thigh, but it was back on the steering wheel and gone too quickly. It was like everything practical and logical conspired against their lips meeting.

“Tell me about what I’m walking into,” Ade said. “You know I’m prone to shyness around strangers.”

“I know.” Sylvie nodded. “I don’t want you to feel any pressure to perform or be anything but yourself around these guests. Elda and Charlie are good friends, and their little boys, Elijah and Arlo, are pretty special.”

“Where did you meet?” Ade needed concrete details that she could bolt herself to like an anchor.

“Elda and I worked in Paris together very briefly. She was teaching art and English in my department, but she had to go back to England because she’d fallen in love with Charlie, even though she was kidding herself and everyone else about it.

” Sylvie filled their shared space with her laughter.

“She’ll deny it, but if it wasn’t for me, they’d still be frustrated best friends. ”

“And Charlie? What’s she like?”

“An esteemed barrister in family law. I like her a lot.” Sylvie turned left into a narrow lane. “Elijah is five, and Arlo is three.” She poked Ade’s thigh gently. “You’re going to love them.”

Ade settled enough to enjoy Sylvie’s profile and the softness of her cheek. Her gaze swept down Sylvie’s body. What she’d give to lay her hands on Sylvie, to feel the heat of her body through the fabric of her clothes.

“We’re here,” said Sylvie.

Too soon. Too soon.

Ade’s nerves didn’t ease after the introductions were made. She gripped her spinning ring so hard, she worried it might buckle under her fingertips.

“How’s the French way of life?” Elda asked, setting her wriggly three-year-old down on the tiled floor.

Ade considered her response. “There’s so much paperwork for everything and too many people smoke. Including Sylvie, although she tries to hide it.”

“Guilty as charged.” Sylvie dipped her head, but Ade caught the glint in her eye.

“I’ve been trying to get Sylvie to quit smoking for years,” Elda said. “If you manage it, you’re a better person than I am.”

“That wouldn’t make me a better person, just a more convincing one,” said Ade.

The falseness of Elda and Charlie’s laughter rang with an untruth. Ade resisted the urge to cover her ears with her hands. She caught a frown pass between them, sign of a judgment.

Had she messed up already?

“Help me explain myself,” Ade whispered to Sylvie.

“You’re right: getting me to quit smoking is about encouragement, not taking the moral high ground.” Sylvie pointed at Elda and stuck out her tongue, generating more knowing giggles between them.

Ade orbited the circle of old friends with a familiar envy. “Boys, would you like to play ball outside with me?” She had to escape. The room was so full of knowing looks, Ade couldn’t interpret the conversation that she could actually hear above all the deafening subtext.

“Yes!” Elijah ran out first with his little brother not far behind him.

Ade grinned. The acceptance of little people was far easier to win than grown-ups. She followed them to the cottage garden and a patch of lawn big enough to throw a ball around. “Wait, what’s happening?” Ade stopped in her tracks as the boys kicked a ball to each other.

“Football. ”

“That’s not football, guys. It’s soccer.”

Elijah giggled. “Don’t you know how to play football?”

“Of course.” Ade ground her heel into the soft lawn, determined to make a good impression on at least half of this family. “We just call it something else.” There was no point in getting into it. It didn’t matter anyway; Arlo was now picking winter berries from a tree. “You okay there, buddy?”

“Smell nice,” he said, lifting the tiny spheres to her nose.

Ade couldn’t detect any scent. “Whatever you say, little dude. Don’t eat them though. They won’t taste nice, and they might make your tummy really sick.” Ade did her best vomiting impression.

“Sadly, Arlo’s at the age that if you tell him not to do something, it’s like a green light to try it,” Charlie said as she wandered out.

“Sorry about pretending to vomit.” Ade stepped back. “You guys probably don’t need a copycat of that kind of thing either.”

“They’ve both done far worse, don’t worry. Two boys, two years apart is a recipe for social humiliation of many and varied flavors. We’re immune, in a way.”

Ade stalled her reply while she digested Charlie’s food-based metaphor. British people really did love a long and flowery sentence.

Charlie dropped her sweater in a pile on the grass. “Let’s set up two goals, boys. We’ll have a little match. Me and Arlo against you and Eli.”

Grateful for the respite in conversation, Ade found a plastic pot for one of the makeshift goal posts.

They played for half an hour, kicking softly so that no one lost control of the ball. In the end, Arlo was running in faster and wider loops around the patch of grass.

“He’s getting tired,” Charlie said, stroking her hand through her cropped hair. “He probably needs a refuel and a little rest before all hell breaks loose.”

Ade feared the worst. Her own meltdowns proved that the absence of food, hydration, and rest could spell disaster for anyone around her. She didn’t want to mess with a three-year-old ticking time-bomb.

She wiped her brow.

“Have you worked up a bit of a sweat there with the preschoolers?” Sylvie stood against the open French doors, her hands on her hips.

“A little. It’s harder than it looks.” Ade’s heartbeat spiked again.

“Come on into the den. I’ve made us a drink,” said Sylvie, leading the way into a small living room which they had to themselves.

“I’m not doing well with Elda and Charlie, am I? Is it obvious?” Ade asked.

“You’re fine. Those two are very British. Even if they noticed your nerves, they’d never say anything.” Sylvie stepped forward. “Come here.” She held out her arms, inviting Ade in.

Ade hesitated, not trusting herself with the moment. Every fiber of her being ached for Sylvie to hold her, to feel the warmth of her embrace, and to slow her heartbeat to match her rhythm. She moved closer, conscious of her own limbs and awkwardness.

“Shall I feed the dog, Sylvie?” Elda’s voice carried through the adjoining hallway.

Sylvie’s shoulders dropped with a sigh. “Sorry, I’d better go and sort Henri. He’s only just woken up.”

“Let me.” Despite the spike of another interruption, Ade jumped at the chance to fuss over an animal. “I want to meet him.”

“Come through.” Sylvie took her by the hand, their connection reinstated and pulsing through Ade’s arm.

“Here, boy.” Ade knelt on the floor, allowing Henri to notice her and make his way over.

He took his time, his old bones quivering as he steadied himself.

“Look at you.” As she locked eyes with the canine, a calm took over.

The rush of blood slowed around Ade’s temples, and her endless list of clarifying questions muted.

The pair of them didn’t need a shared language to understand each other’s needs.

She patted his back with a firm stroke worthy of a dog of Henri’s breed and stature.

She may not be great with humans, but she was a real gem with the animal kingdom.

Her regret at not quite connecting with Sylvie’s British friends faded a little as Henri inched closer and laid his head on her shoulder.

Having gained his trust, she stroked his silky ears, and their smoothness brought an immediate quiet to her racing mind.

She lifted herself from the floor and beckoned Henri to follow her. “Here you go,” she said, taking the food bowl from Sylvie. The pull to remain in Sylvie’s family home was stronger than anything. If only she could stay here all night in the simple domesticity and the peace of Sylvie’s embrace.

Closing the door, Ade held out her hand. “Charlie and Elda are settling the boys down,” she said.

Sylvie bit her lip. “And Henri is busy eating his food.”

Ade stepped forward, no longer feeling on the periphery of human experience but right in the middle of her own adventure.

Her skin tingled with the anticipation of the kiss.

Nothing existed except Sylvie, the flutter of her eyelashes, the arch of her brow, the softness of her cheek, and then…

her lips. Ade trembled. A moment passed, and her world shrunk to their lips meeting.

She held her breath, pausing in the beautiful tenderness that she’d dreamed of but never expected.

The promise of a kiss had been kept. And now she’d known its awesomeness, there was no going back, was there?