There wasn’t a bath, but as well as a huge mirror, a modern basin and toilet, there was a rainwater shower. It called to her in a way that no shower ever had before. “Take your time,” Will had said.
She stripped off and turned on the taps.
Only twenty minutes later—she skipped some of her usual ablution steps—she was dressed in a pair of casual trousers and a cashmere jumper, as well as her trusty Ugg boots, a present Chloe had sent for Christmas a few years ago. She pulled up her long, curly hair into a messy bun and didn’t bother with makeup, not wanting to keep Jules’s family waiting too long. Downstairs, she followed the sound of voices to the front room.
When she entered, the first thing she noticed was that Will wasn’t there. The second was the fireplace. She’d only seen one like that in films. It was nearly as tall as her, with stones across the hearth and up the wall either side, and a thick, rustic mantle made from a single cut of pine.
On the mantle were a dozen or so framed family photos and her eyes went straight to one of Will as a boy, not much older than when she’d first met him at age seven.
He’d been so sweet then, if a little rambunctious—all big blue eyes, white-blond hair, and a giant gap-toothed grin—an energetic cherub. Lucy had always wanted a baby brother, so she’d been keen to let him play with them, but Jules hadn’t wanted him tagging along. She had shooed him off, one time making him cry, Lucy remembered.
Now he was a grown man—a handsome one. Stop it, she rebuked. His mum is right there!
Steph and Joe were sitting on one of the two leather sofas, her feet in his lap. “Feel better?” asked Steph.
She grinned. “So much better. That shower is amazing.”
Steph smiled at her. “Will hasn’t come down yet, but Nate’s in the kitchen, just through there. I’m sure he’d be happy to rustle you up something to eat. You must be starving.”
“Actually, I was just thinking how much I could murder a slice of toast.” Bemusement flickered across Steph’s face before she replied.
“Right, and we’ve got wine open, too, if you’d like?” Steph indicated to the open bottle on the low glass coffee table.
“Oh, no thanks. Ever since you mentioned the hot chocolate …”
“Oh, Nate’s famous for it.”
Lucy smiled shyly and left for the kitchen.
“Hi, sweetheart. Feel good to freshen up?” Nate’s warm smile made Lucy feel right at ease as she climbed onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar.
“Brilliant actually. The flight was all right—I mean, it’s only nine hours—but the drive was a little, uh …”
“Unexpected?”
She laughed. “Well, yes, that, but at least on an airplane, you can get up and walk about and use the loo. That’s an experience I will never forget.”
Nate’s eyebrows rose in question just as Will made his appearance.
“You telling Dad about our adventure?”
“Do I want to know?” asked Nate.
“For sure,” said Will.
“No!” said Lucy at the same time. Will shot her an amused look.
“Maybe another time, Will,” Lucy countered. His cheeky grin was annoying, but she also found it charming, which made her annoyed with herself.
“So!” Nate clapped his hands like dads do when they want to change the subject, “you two must be starving.”
“Well, apparently, someone’s famous for their hot chocolate.”
“Oh, he’s famous for it all right. What Mom didn’t mention is that it’s full of rum.”
Lucy’s eyes widened.
“Are you game?” Will teased.
The worst that could happen was it would make her sleepy, and considering it was sometime near morning in the UK, feeling sleepy was probably a good thing. Otherwise, she’d be up all night in a post-flight, wide-awake-but-completely-shattered state. And in the absence of mulled wine, spiked hot chocolate sounded divine.
“I’m definitely game.”
Nate retrieved two mugs from a tall cupboard and went to the stove where a copper saucepan was steaming. He turned off the heat and ladled the hot chocolate into the mugs. Then he topped each one with a sprinkling of cocoa powder.
Turning to her and Will, he carefully placed a brimming mug in front of each of them.
Lucy took a tiny sip, her eyes lighting up. “That’s delicious.” Nate beamed. She took a bigger sip. “That is going down a treat,” she said before she took another.
“I mean full of rum,” teased Will. “And, believe me, the heat only burns off some of the alcohol.” He took a decent slug of his and Lucy could see his smiling eyes above the rim.
“Would you like anything to eat?” asked Nate.
“You’re spoiling me, you know.”
“Dad doesn’t mind. He spends half his time in the kitchen when we’re here.”
“It’s true.” She watched as Nate looked about the kitchen lovingly. “She’s my baby; I designed her.” Lucy retrieved the fact that Nate was an architect from her memory.
“Did you design this house?”
“Guilty.”
“It’s …” She struggled to find the right word and settled on, “beautiful.”
Nate dipped his head, a bittersweet smile on his face. Lucy didn’t want to dwell on why there was sadness in the smile.
“Well, if you’re offering, I’d love some toast.”
Nate clutched at his chest as though she’d wounded him. “Toast.” It came out as a ragged whisper and Lucy giggled. “How about an omelette instead?” he suggested.
“I don’t want to be a bother.”
He waved off her weak protestation and started assembling his omelette making tools on the counter. “Two, Dad,” said Will.
“Two omelettes coming right up.”
Lucy watched Nate in quiet awe, enjoying the sense of family togetherness and the hot chocolate. As two omelettes cooked in side-by-side frying pans, Nate topped her up with a
