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Snowflakes at Lavender Bay: A perfectly uplifting 2018 Christmas read from bestseller Sarah Bennett!. Sarah BennettЧитать онлайн книгу.

Snowflakes at Lavender Bay: A perfectly uplifting 2018 Christmas read from bestseller Sarah Bennett! - Sarah  Bennett


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on one hand which was a damn sight less than him, of that she had no doubt. So, he should be better at this than her. She felt him crawl away, felt the loss of his warmth against her side and was suddenly desperate to scramble after him and tumble them both to the floor.

      She didn’t though. Instead, she removed her top and began to fumble around with her bra until she had it the right way round to clip it back on. Her top was halfway over her head when Owen gave a little crow of triumph. ‘Here they are! Now I just need to work out where the hell you are again.’

      Finally dressed, they left the little haven of the beach hut. Libby paused to lock the door and replace the key back in its hiding place before turning to survey the sky. The moon had set, and the first streaks of indigo and pink showed the approaching dawn. She could’ve sworn they’d only been inside for an hour. ‘What time is it?’

      Pale luminescence flashed as Owen turned his wrist to study his watch. ‘About half three, I think.’

      ‘Bloody hell, come on, I’ve got to be up in a few hours.’ She broke into a jog, keeping the dark outline of the promenade to her left. The lampposts had dimmed to pale orange, another sign of how late—or how early—it was.

      When they reached the steps leading up to the prom, Owen grabbed for her hand and tugged her around to face him. Cupping her jaw with his other hand, he feathered a kiss across her lips. ‘I’ll find us somewhere a bit more comfortable for next time.’

      Next time. He said it as naturally as breathing, as though of course they would be seeing each other again. She’d been refusing to think beyond the next few moments, getting dressed, finding their shoes, saying goodbye…only it didn’t sound like he had any intention of saying goodbye. The sex had been good. Ha! Who was she trying to kid? The sex had been blow-the-top-of-your-head-off incredible. He’d certainly seemed to enjoy it as much as she had, so maybe he was on the lookout for a repeat performance. Or maybe he was looking for something more.

      But what could that be, in truth, because even with him getting involved in Sam’s restaurant, didn’t he have a whole other life in London? He would be there, and she would be here. They could hook up for the odd weekend, she supposed, until the restaurant was up and running, but then what? It was too much to think about, and she was too tired right then to think about it. Or maybe just a bit scared of how she would feel if that was really all he wanted. She could always ask him and find out. The words stuck in her throat.

      ‘You’re very quiet all of a sudden.’

      ‘Am I? Sorry, I’m just a bit tired.’ Hating herself for the cop-out, Libby began to make her way up the stairs. ‘Well, my bed is calling to me.’

      ‘Hold on, I’ll walk you back.’ Within two steps he’d caught up with her and taken her hand in his.

      They walked in silence to her front door, where she disentangled her fingers ostensibly to fish her key out of her pocket. She had the door open and one foot inside when he stilled her with a single finger beneath her chin. Hopeless to resist, she allowed him to tilt her face up for the briefest kiss. ‘Goodnight, Pixie.’

      As she crept up the stairs to avoid waking her dad, Libby tried to convince herself it was a good thing that despite his promise of ‘next time’ he hadn’t tried to make arrangements to meet again—and failed miserably.

       Chapter 7

      Back in London, Owen spent most of the next week glued to his desk as he tried to get on top of everything at work. His weekends were usually spent catching up and reviewing the files and reports on all their projects, so his trip to Lavender Bay had put him behind. It didn’t help that his mind strayed to Libby the moment he let his concentration slip. He’d already promised Jack he’d be back for the kid’s beach football match, although now he wasn’t quite sure why he’d volunteered.

      He didn’t know the first thing about kids, but there’d been something about the whole mess which had spoken to something deep inside him. Jack’s nephew, Noah, had been devastated when one of the other boys told him he couldn’t be a part of the fathers and sons football match because he didn’t have a dad. What had seemed to be an act of cruelty had turned out to be a misguided attempt by Michael, the other boy, to not be the only child in their class to miss out on the day. Owen knew well enough what it was like to feel excluded from games and class events. None of his foster parents had shown any interest.

      Owen had also committed to meeting the bank manager with Sam, so he needed to be sure everything was in hand back here at the office to give him the freedom to not only meet those commitments, but also to spend some quality time with Libby.

      By the time Alex came into his office on Friday lunchtime, Owen finally felt like he was getting somewhere. ‘Everything all right?’ he asked as his second-in-command slumped down in the chair beside his desk.

      ‘Yeah, just about. Bit of an emergency on the Vauxhall site. The foreman’s wife went into premature labour, so he had to head to the hospital.’

      Owen set down his pen to pay full attention to what his assistant was saying. ‘Christ, I hope everything’s okay. She’s not due for another month, is she?’

      ‘Two weeks. Johnno wanted to work right up to the last minute.’ Alex rubbed her eyes, then dropped her head back with a sigh. ‘Bob Knox is on that job and he’s got more than enough experience to oversee the rest of the day and get the site cleaned up and secured. We already had an agency guy lined up to cover the paternity leave and they’ve juggled his scheduled to free him up for Monday.’

      He might have known she’d have everything in hand. She’d come to him six years ago, frustrated after two years at a larger firm where more than a few old dinosaurs couldn’t get their head around the idea of a female quantity surveyor. He’d promised to never ask her to make a cup of tea, and she’d promised he’d never regret hiring her. There’d been other candidates for the job, some with more experience, but his gut had told him Alex would be a good fit. And so it had proven.

      From implementing an electronic signing-in system for the sites to help verify submitted timesheets, to championing safety training and even a campaign specifically targeted towards men’s health they’d rolled out to all their sites, barely a month had gone by without Alex knocking at Owen’s door with a suggestion on how to improve the business. All Owen had to do was keep feeding that hunger in her to progress and both Alex and the company had gone from strength to strength. He’d sent her on every course she’d requested and been paid back many times over with her loyalty and effort.

      Three years after she’d started, she’d knocked on his door and confessed to a romance with Nick, a consultant project manager they used to help run some of their bigger projects. Not wanting to lose either of them, he hadn’t been a fan of their relationship, but he’d appreciated her honesty and bitten his lip against voicing any protest. Thankfully, his worries had proven unfounded, and he’d even stood up for Nick as his best man at their wedding the previous summer.

      ‘I’ll give Johnno a ring later and check in with him. If he wants an extra couple of weeks’ leave, I’ll cover the cost.’

      ‘Thanks, Boss. I’ll give the agency the heads-up that we might want to extend the cover.’

      When she continued to sit there but didn’t speak Owen swivelled his chair around to face her. ‘Something else on your mind?’

      Keeping her eyes focused on the ceiling, Alex said, ‘You’re off down to the coast again this weekend.’

      ‘That’s right. I need to finalise the restaurant deal I told you about.’ Tilting back his seat, Owen crossed his feet at the ankles. ‘Is that a problem?’

      Alex shrugged. ‘Not for me to say, is it, Boss?’

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