Page 7 of From LA to London, With Love

Despite telling myself I wasn’t attracted to this guy, my mind had jumped into the gutter very quickly. I gave myself a mental shake. Given how ripped he was, perhaps it wasn’t so unbelievable he was converting a quarter of his house into a gym…I could definitely imagine him bench-pressing hundreds of pounds shirtless, sweat dripping from his brow furrowed in concentration. Oh no. Sophie, get a grip. I hoisted Elliot onto my hip and followed Chris up the wooden staircase.

“Now, if there’s an enchanted wardrobe anywhere in this house, it’ll be here.” Chris grinned as he gestured to a massive ornately carved wooden wardrobe in an empty room overlooking the street. “Taa daa!” He made a big show of opening it, but it only had a few old coat hangers clanking around and smelled of moth balls. Disappointing.

We peered into the other rooms. The bathroom had one of those cool, clawfoot tubs. I imagined myself soaking in it while reading a fast-paced thriller, but that immediately morphed into an image of my buff tour guide squeezing himself into it to have a bubble bath. I suppressed an urge to giggle. He’d be much more at home soaping himself down in the large, modern shower, his biceps rippling…

I hurriedly walked out of the bathroom and went into the next room, a large bedroom overlooking the back garden. Half-unpacked suitcases and piles of clothes were sprawled on the floor. The bedroom gave the impression its inhabitant was only staying for a fleeting visit, one that didn’t warrant going to the trouble of folding clothes into drawers and putting shirts onto hangers. Chris looked slightly embarrassed.

“Sorry about the mess. I’m still putting everything away.” Now it was his turn to hurriedly leave a room. “And that brings us to the end of our tour.”

We walked back down to the front living room.

“While I’m disappointed by the lack of secret passages or portals—perhaps I should rethink my career as a magical house inspector—it’s otherwise just as I imagined it. Absolutely gorgeous.” I could easily picture myself living in this house, sipping coffee on the deck in summer and in front of a burning log fire in winter, filling the larder with delicious jams, chutneys and all the staples, and playing with Elliot in the garden.

Unfortunately, with London property prices the way they were, I could never afford a place like this—unless I won the lottery, or my business plans with Rose and Mia really took off in an unexpected way. My parents were lucky they’d bought their house in Hampstead back in the 1980s, when it was still affordable, before it became one of the most expensive areas in London. Most of their old friends in the neighborhood had cashed in and moved elsewhere, but Mum and Dad loved their old, slightly dilapidated house and its proximity to the Heath too much to do the same.

“I love it too.” He paused and then frowned. “I’m sorry. I totally forgot my manners. Would you or Elliot like something to eat or drink? I’m afraid the eggplant dish won’t be ready for another hour, so that’s off the menu—unless you’d like to stay for dinner? But I think I have some cookies, I mean biscuits, and tea or coffee, if you’re interested. And Uber Eats is just a click away if you’re craving something else.” To my surprise, he sounded genuinely keen for us to stay.

“Don’t apologize. I was the one who nearly bowled you over and made you drop your iced coffee everywhere. But water would be amazing, thanks. And I wouldn’t say no to a cookie-slash-biscuit either, if you do have some.” I was thirsty after working up a sweat storming down the street. I was also happy to have an excuse to spend more time in the house of my dreams and, to my surprise, with Chris. Our friendly banter was a welcome distraction from dwelling on Cynthia’s comments. And while my attraction to him was a less welcome distraction, I was ignoring it as best I could.

We were brainstorming other ludicrous career options when my phone rang. I apologized as I pulled it out of my pocket. It was Josh. Shit.

“Soph! Oh my god! Are you okay? I just walked out of a meeting and saw your message, which you sent like an hour ago!” Josh spoke quickly, with an uneven pitch that suggested he’d been freaking out. “I thought I’d better try you first before I called the police. What the hell is going on? Are you safe? Can you talk freely, or is someone with you? If you’re not okay, say “Yes”.”

Crap. I’d totally forgotten about the cryptic message I’d sent Josh. No wonder he was worried about me. He’d probably been imagining me tied up in that mysterious basement, and not in a consensual I’m-having-fun-in-a-sex-dungeon kind of way.

“Sorry about that. Everything’s fine. I’ll explain later. Bye!” I hung up before Josh could further cross-question or yell at me, feeling guilty I didn’t ask how his meeting went.

I looked at Chris. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how late it was. Unfortunately, we should head home—got to get this little guy ready for bed.”

Did a look of disappointment flit across his face, or was that just my overactive imagination again?

Right on cue, Elliot yawned and let out a grumpy screech, so I hurriedly threw everything under the pram. Chris carried it down the front steps. He waited until Elliot, who wasn’t taking kindly to being restrained in the damp seat, was firmly buckled in and then held the front gate open.

Chris took a breath and opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, then promptly closed it. Intrigued, I wondered what I’d just missed out on.

“Well, thanks again for the tour. And apologies again for ramming you! Enjoy your dinner. Hopefully you won’t need Uber Eats tonight!” I said, feeling slightly awkward. If Chris had been a woman, I would have definitely suggested exchanging numbers. But with him, I hesitated.

“No problem. Maybe I’ll see you guys around. Bye, buddy!” he said, waving at Elliot, who wriggled about uncomfortably.

I set off quickly toward my parents’ house, keen to make it home before Elliot started screaming again. My ears had had enough for one day.

CHAPTER FOUR

CHRIS

THE AFTERNOON SUN streamed into the living room, filling the room and my body with warmth. God, I loved this house. When I first arrived in London, I’d stayed in a serviced apartment while I looked for a more permanent place to live. I wanted somewhere that felt like a home after spending so much time in my sterile LA mansion. This house was one of the first places I’d viewed, and I’d fallen for it immediately. Cozy and comfortable, with an old-world charm, there was enough space for a gym in the basement and a yard big enough for Alfie to burn off steam, but the house wasn’t so large that either of us would get lost in it. It was the complete opposite of my LA mansion. Thankfully, it was also ready to move in immediately.

“My dah-ling Eliza, you ah the…” Shit, that sounded bad. I sat on the couch, practicing my lines in a British accent. It was still terrible, despite almost two weeks of coaching, and I was struggling to focus.

The glorious weather wasn’t helping, but Sophie was primarily to blame. I hadn’t stopped thinking about her since she’d left yesterday afternoon, striding off down the street, pushing the stroller. Sophie had quite literally bowled me off my feet. While I had a bruise on my leg from Elliot’s stroller smashing into me, she’d left an even stronger impression on my mind.

It took me a few seconds after impact to realize she wasn't a disturbed fan trying to mow me down and, in fact, was just a very attractive woman pushing a baby down the street with significant force. A baby covered in my iced coffee and screaming. Luckily, I signaled to the security guard I had stationed across the street that everything was fine before he crash-tackled Sophie, thinking she was out to get me.

On an impulse, I invited her inside—that’s the last thing I’d usually do on meeting a stranger, especially in my current I-never-want-to-interact-with-anyone-ever-again state. But I didn’t make a habit of dousing babies with freezing cold drinks and had panicked at Elliot’s ear-shattering screams. I’m sure the fact she was gorgeous, had an air of confidence I found very attractive, and appeared to have no idea who I was also influenced the split-second decision.

Once Elliot had calmed down, I’d really enjoyed showing her around the house, seeing it all through her beautiful brown eyes while we bantered back and forth. It felt so…natural. So relaxed. I hadn’t smiled that much for months.

It was probably for the best that I’d chickened out of asking for her number when she rushed off, given my “no relationships” policy, but I couldn’t help feeling bummed I might never see her again. At least, if she wanted to find me, she knew where I lived. Although, I wasn’t holding my breath that she’d seek me out. Even though it sounded like she was single—she’d mentioned living with her parents—I hadn’t picked up any signs she was attracted to me. While that was also refreshing—I was used to getting a lot of attention from women—it was also slightly disappointing.