“Like?” He raises one eyebrow interested in what my next words will be.
“You.” I stand there, unsure of what has just come out of my mouth.
He stands for a moment then breaks into an almost uncomfortable laughter. “Well, he must have been a very handsome wolf.”
I feel silly. I am not even sure what I was trying to insinuate but since my entire world has been turned upside down, I could believe anything.
“Sorry.” I smile. “I don’t know, I must be cold.” My teeth chatter. Maybe I am delirious? I don’t need to start making up more fairytale stories. But those eyes. And my dreams. The niggle of more hits the back of my brain. But my need for warmth and safety pushes it further back.
“Come on, let’s get you back to the village.” He starts to lead me towards the clearing when I stop.
“You didn’t explain what you were doing out here. And with no coat,” I say, something still not feeling right in the pit of my stomach.
“I was chopping wood. I don’t need a coat.” He pulls my handout of my glove and places it on his chest. “See? Chopping wood works up a sweat.” He smiles and holds my hand in his. His hand feels like a furnace. It sends warmth up my arm and around my body.
“But where’s the wood?” I question.
He tips his head back. “What is this?The Weakest Link? I’ve already taken some back to the house and the cafe. I came out to just do a bit more and that’s when I saw you.” He pulls me in again, his eyes narrowing into mine. “Please don’t come out here alone. If I hadn’t have found you… well, you could have frozen to death. What were you even doing?”
“A walk. You really think it was just a farmer’s dog?” I ask for reassurance.
“Probably. Dave in the next village has an Irish wolfhound and they basically look like wolves. But please, save your walks for the daytime.” He looks for me to agree. I nod. His eyes soften. “Is everything OK?” He looks concerned.
“I just have a lot on my mind.” I want to tell him everything, but my tongue stops me.
“You should have called me. I could have helped ease it.” He gives me a cheeky wink, and I roll my eyes, but in reality, his jokes can be all that I need sometimes. My mind stops jumping to conclusions and I start to relax. Sam pulls me close into him, his arm draped over my shoulder keeping me from the frigid air that surrounds us.
He guides me through the trees until we come out of the other side of the village. Funnily enough if I had just carried on walking I would have come out of the other side. It shows how disorienting the trees can be. Maybe I didn’t actually see anything at all.
We walk to the cafe where he uses the key to open it up. Inside the warmth of the heating hits us with force.
“That’s better,” he exclaims lighting the few candles on thetables and placing the hatchet on the counter.
“Best to not put the lights on, or we’ll end up with late-night customers thinking we’re open.” He flicks the lock on the door and turns to me. His eyes meet mine with the tension that has been building between us.
“Will Gloria mind we’re here?” I ask quietly, hoping that the answer is no and that we have ourselves a private space. Finally.
“No, I come here sometimes when I can’t sleep.” He smiles and heads to the coffee machine.
“Can I use your phone, to let my granny know I’m OK? I stupidly didn’t bring mine.”
“Sure.” He slides over his mobile. Greg would never! His phone was his and would rather die than let me look at it. I now know why of course. But Sam is so open. Not a care in the world if I scroll through his messages.
“I’ve got Aradia’s number in there somewhere. You’ll have to scroll through to find it,” he mentions while pouring two hot coffees into two cups.
I find Aradia’s number and text her to let her know I am staying with Sam and pass the phone back towards him. He leaves it on the counter unbothered whether it’s in his hand or not.
Sam passes me my cup and then helps himself to chocolate cake that is in the display cabinet.
“Gloria isn’t going to be happy you are helping yourself to her stock!” I laugh.
“She knew the risks. Giving keys to me is basically an invitation to me eating whatever I want.” He smirks and pulls out two forks.
“Here.” He hands one over to me. “Try it.”
I dig my fork into the thick layer of ganache and devour it. It is delicious, sumptuous and velvety in my mouth. The chocolate sends a buzz of good feeling around my body.
I stand on the opposite side of the counter to Sam, both using our elbows to lean on. We are a breath away from each other but the counter is keeping us apart. Ironic, right? He forks another piece into his mouth as his gaze meets mine. Sparks pass between us, the kind that speak of unspoken promises and the longing we know we share.
