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"Seems so," Charlotte replied, her pulse quickening. She sauntered toward him. "What do you say we make the most of it?"
"Sounds like an excellent plan," he agreed, as he strode toward her with purposeful grace.
They shared a brief, warm kiss before parting, their foreheads brushing.
“Eat by the fire?”
“Sounds wonderful,” he replied.
Their quiet laughter mingled with the crackle of the fireplace as they settled into the deep cushions of the sitting area, two souls orbiting closer in the intimacy of shared solitude. Charlotte found herself caught in the gravity of Simon's gaze, each flicker of candlelight reflecting in his eyes, weaving a silent conversation only they could understand. They savored their meal in occasional silence, punctuated by contented sighs and the occasional clatter of cutlery.
In the midst of their dinner, the doorbell rang—a delicate chime that seemed oddly intrusive. Charlotte's brows knitted together, a twinge of annoyance threading through her reverie.
"Excuse me for a moment," she said, smoothing her skirt as she rose from her seat.
"Of course," Simon replied, watching her go with a fondness that lingered in the air.
At the front desk, Isla stood, her presence like a cool breeze that threatened to disperse the warm atmosphere Charlotte had so carefully curated.
"Charlotte, I hate to be a bother, but could I trouble you for an extra pillow? And maybe a few more towels?" Isla asked, her voice lilting with an apologetic smile.
"Of course, Isla. I'll bring them to your room shortly," Charlotte assured her, the innkeeper's mask slipping seamlessly over her features.
"Thank you," Isla said, turning away, her silhouette momentarily caught in the glow of the hallway's nightlights.
Charlotte returned to the living room, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Would Isla's interruption derail the evening? She couldn't let it. Not when every second with Simon felt precious—a treasure she wasn't willing to squander.
"Everything okay?" Simon asked, concern etching his brow as Charlotte sat down again.
"Absolutely," she replied, her smile a little too practiced. "Just fulfilling the duties of an innkeeper."
"Your dedication is admirable," he said with a grin that reached his eyes. "But I feel a little possessive of you tonight."
Charlotte nodded, the warmth returning to her cheeks. "Oh? Well, I just need a minute…”
Charlotte excused herself with a grace that belied her racing pulse. She slipped out of the dining room, her feet whispering across the old wooden floorboards of The Crown Inn. The flickering candles cast long, dancing shadows behind her, their light waning just enough to shroud Simon in their warm embrace.
"Here," Charlotte muttered under her breath as she reached for the stack of plush towels and fluffed pillow, her hands steady despite the flutter in her chest. As she ascended the staircase, the wood creaked beneath her steps, a charming yet traitorous sound she had grown to love.
"Charlotte, dear, do you think I could also have a glass of that lovely lemon water you offered earlier?" Isla's voice floated down from the upper landing, as sweet and unexpected as a night-blooming jasmine.
"Of course!" Charlotte called back, her tone effortlessly cheerful. "I'll bring it up with the towels and pillow."
The stairs ended just shy of the corridor where Isla awaited, and Charlotte could hear Simon's voice filter through the air from below—a rich sound that seemed to resonate with the very foundations of the inn. But she couldn’t make out what he’d said. She turned to see him stand, pushing his chair back with the intention of helping, no doubt.
Simon was by her side in moments. " You've been on your feet all evening. I'll grab the drink. Which cupboard?"
"Left side of the sink!" She replied quickly.
"Got it. Don't move. This is my domain now," Simon joked, and she heard the comforting sound of cabinet doors opening and closing.
Charlotte whisked away into the hall, finding Isla leaning against the doorframe of her room, her silhouette draped in the soft fabric of her nightgown, which caught the moonlight and gave her an ethereal glow.
"Here we are, towels fluffy enough for a queen and a pillow fit for a princess," Charlotte said with a flourish as she handed the items over.
"Thank you, my fairy godmother," Isla replied with a playful curtsy that made Charlotte chuckle. "But what about my midnight elixir?"
"Coming right up," Charlotte assured her, turning away just as Simon's footsteps signaled his ascent up the first few stairs.
