Falling for Mr. December (8 page)

She looked thoughtful. ‘I can probably name you half a dozen. But my absolute favourite is probably Freddy, the free runner.'

‘You mean, one of those people who run around London and jump off rooftops?' he asked.

‘According to Freddy, it's all about expressing yourself without limiting your movement—but yes, that's what it looks like. To get the interview and the portrait, the journalist and I went with him on a free run. He said you know who you are when you know how your body moves and what you're capable of doing. That if you learn to overcome obstacles in your environment you'll also learn how to overcome obstacles and stress in your daily life—and that fascinated me.'

‘So you actually did the jumping off roofs bit with him?' Now that he hadn't expected.

‘Not with my camera, no—the insurance would never have covered that kind of risk.' She smiled. ‘But I did have a go when the journo looked after my camera.'

He raised an eyebrow. ‘So are you brave, or are you a thrill seeker?'

‘Neither,' she said. ‘Life's short, so it's always worth taking the chance to experience something new, even if it seems a bit scary at first. Because that way you push yourself beyond your boundaries and you live life to the full—you don't get left with a pile of regrets at the end.'

‘That's a good philosophy,' he said. ‘So what's on your bucket list?'

For a moment he thought he saw her flinch. But it must've been his imagination. Or maybe it was a phrase that made her think about her sister. ‘Sorry. That could've been phrased better.'

‘Things I really want to do before I die.' She pursed her lips. ‘Top of my list would be the chance to go to the edge of the earth's atmosphere—the bit where you see the blue curved line of space and all the blackness above. I'd love the chance to see that for myself and photograph it.' She looked straight at him. ‘How about you? What's on your list?'

‘Most of the places I want to see are in the middle of political turmoil right now,' he said, ‘so it's not sensible to travel there. But on the doable list, I'd love to see the whales and polar bears in Canada. And see the Northern Lights.'

‘Book the trip,' she said immediately.

Yeah. Except he wanted to share it with someone. ‘When work isn't quite so busy,' he said, knowing that it was a feeble excuse.

‘Being busy at work is fine,' she said softly. ‘But it's important to remember to take time to play as well. To give yourself a chance to refill the well.'

Clearly his expression said that he thought that was totally flaky, because she grinned. ‘I just believe in living life to the full. Work hard and play hard.'

He persuaded her to let him buy her coffee and cake in the gallery's café. When they'd finished, he said, ‘May I see you home?'

‘Thank you, Nick, but I'm an adult. I'm perfectly capable of getting myself home.'

There was a slight edge to her voice that surprised him. He'd thought they'd had a good time together. Clearly it was time to back off. ‘Sorry. I was brought up to be a bit old-fashioned.'

‘Courtesy—yes, I can understand that. Sorry for biting your head off.' She took a deep breath. ‘Let's just say in the past my family's tried to wrap me up in cotton wool, and that drives me crazy.' There was a flash of panic in her eyes, gone so fast that Nick thought he might've imagined it. And then Sammy added, ‘I guess it comes from being the baby of the family.'

Nick was the baby of the family, and nobody had wrapped him in cotton wool. When his mother's affair had come to light, his sister Mandy had been away at university and Nick had been left alone with his father—who'd been too hurt and angry to put a filter over his words. Edward Kennedy had said an awful lot of bitter, unhappy things that the teenaged Nick could've done without hearing.

He shook himself. Now wasn't the time to dwell on that. ‘A photographer who's actually tried free running and dreams of going to the edge of space is the last person who'd want to be wrapped in cotton wool,' he said.

She looked relieved that he actually understood her. And then she looked him in the eye. ‘We could always go for the compromise.'

‘What's that?'

‘Walk me to the Tube station?' she suggested.

‘Works for me,' he said.

And he was pleased that this time she was the one to tangle her fingers with his as they walked.

At the entrance to the Tube station, he turned to her. ‘I've had a really nice day. Thank you.' He bent his head, intending to kiss her politely on the cheek—but somehow his lips ended up brushing against hers. Once, twice. Clinging. Exploring the softness of her mouth, the sweetness.

And it made him feel as if an electric shock had run through him.

When he pulled back, he could see the shock and surprise in her own eyes, so clearly it had affected her in the same way.

‘Nick. I...' The words dried up and she shook her head helplessly.

‘Yeah. Me, too,' he said softly. And, because he could see just the faintest bit of panic on her face, he backed off. ‘See you later.' Even though he had the strongest feeling that he might not. And he didn't look back once as he headed on the half-hour walk back to his flat.

* * *

Sammy really hadn't expected that kiss. She didn't think Nick had intended to kiss her like that, either. He'd probably been aiming for her cheek—just as she'd been doing. Except then they'd both turned the wrong way and their mouths had accidentally collided.

She brooded about it all the way home.

Part of her didn't want to risk another relationship where she'd get let down.

And yet she'd told him her view on life.
It's always worth taking the chance to experience something new, even if it seems a bit scary at first. Because that way you push yourself beyond your boundaries and you live life to the full—you don't get left with a pile of regrets at the end.

Dating Nick Kennedy was a scary prospect. One she wasn't sure she was brave enough to handle. What if he was disgusted by her scars and it made him back away? He wouldn't be the first. And, even if he wasn't repulsed by her leg, would she be enough of a woman for him? It was a bone-deep fear that she hadn't even discussed with her sister and her best friends. She knew they'd tell her she was being ridiculous and they were probably right, but that didn't shift the fear. The fact that she'd have difficulty conceiving—that if she met someone who wanted to have a family with her, they'd have to go through IVF using her frozen eggs, and there was no guarantee it would work—made her feel less of a woman. In her head, she knew it was stupid, but in her heart she couldn't help worrying about it.

But, if she walked away from Nick, would she end up with a pile of regrets?

Was this sudden burst of loneliness just a reaction to the fact that Claire and Ashleigh had both got married and she was the only one of the Terrible Trio who was single now? Or was it something more?

There was only one way to find out.

She texted him.

Very carefully.

Thank you. I had a really good time today.

He took his time in replying.

Me, too.

Was he being polite? Or was he being wary, given that she'd bitten his head off so unfairly?

Bravery time again. And this would be their second official date, so it was safely within her three-dates-and-end-it rule. She could do this. Keep it casual. Unthreatening. She tapped into her phone.

Maybe we could do something next week, if you're free.

That was the crunch suggestion. If he made an excuse and backed off, so would she. If he didn't...then maybe they could have some fun together.

He took even longer replying, this time. And she only realised how tense she was when her phone beeped and she saw his message.

Day or evening?

Either. I'm still on holiday next week. Nothing planned.

His reply was swift
.

Am in court for at least three days but can do evenings.

Good. How are you with heights?

Instead of texting her, this time he called her. ‘What do you have in mind? Is this something to do with free running?'

‘No. Just heights. Something off my bucket list that I hope you'll enjoy.'

‘The top of the Shard?' he suggested. ‘Sure. Heights aren't a problem.'

‘Not the Shard. Something else,' she said. ‘Dress casually. I'll text you with the times and directions when I've booked it.
Ciao.
'

And then she hung up before she made a fool of herself.

CHAPTER FIVE

O
NCE
S
AMMY
HAD
booked tickets for the outing she'd planned, she sent Nick a cheeky text.

M'learned friend, do you possess such a thing as a pair of jeans?

Clearly he was in court, because he didn't reply until lunchtime. And then he called her rather than texted her. ‘Of course I own a pair of jeans, Sammy. Why?'

‘Because I need you to wear them when you meet me on Thursday night. Trainers would be good, too, but they're not essential.'

‘Jeans and trainers? Why? What are we doing?'

‘Something fun,' she said. ‘Because as I told you before, I believe in working hard, but I also believe in playing just as hard.'

‘Fair enough. Are you at least going to tell me the location, or am I supposed to be developing my mind-reading abilities?'

She laughed. ‘North Greenwich Tube station. And that's all you need to know for now. I'll text you the time.'

‘Hmm,' Nick said, but she could hear the smile in his voice.

* * *

When Nick met Sammy on Thursday evening, she did a pirouette in front of him. ‘I hope you notice that I'm not wearing black today,' she said.

She was wearing faded jeans, which clung to her like a second skin, a hot pink T-shirt, and canvas shoes that matched her T-shirt. And Nick was slightly shocked to realise how much he wanted to carry her off to his flat and peel her clothes off her. Very, very slowly.

‘You look very nice,' he said, hoping that his thoughts weren't showing on his face and that she hadn't developed mind-reading skills. ‘So where are we going?'

‘The O2 Arena. We're booked in for the sunset climb,' she told him. ‘I've already bought the tickets and this is my idea, so don't even
think
about offending me by offering to pay. Got it?'

‘Yes, ma'am,' he said, saluting and clicking his heels together.

‘Good. I'm glad you know your place, m'learned friend.'

And he loved the teasing glint in her eyes. With Sammy, he was starting to rediscover his sense of fun—something he'd lost after the break-up of his marriage, except for the time he spent with his nephews. ‘So we're actually walking over the top of the Dome?'

‘Yep. You were the one talking about bucket lists. This happens to be on mine. One of my best friends is totally scared of heights, but you said you were OK with them, so I thought I'd dragoon you into doing it with me.' She paused and frowned. ‘Oh, wait. You haven't done this already, have you?'

‘No.' Though this was definitely something that his nephews would love to do, he thought. Maybe it was something he'd suggest doing with them. Maybe he'd ask Sammy to join them—though he didn't know whether she actually liked children. Plus it was way too soon to suggest meeting his family. This was, what, their second date? Yeah. Way too soon. They needed time to get to know each other, first.

Live for the moment, he reminded himself. ‘I'm looking forward to this.'

‘Me, too.' She looked gleeful. ‘This is going to be huge fun.'

He agreed. Particularly because he was going to be sharing the experience with her.

After a safety briefing with the guides, they joined the rest of their group in putting on their climb suits and boots. Next they put on a harness with a latch that they'd been told to clip to the walkway; and finally they climbed the stairs up to the suspended walkway.

The person at the front of the line stumbled partway up the steep incline, and the walkway rippled with the impact. The person in front of Sammy stopped dead, clearly worried, and Sammy had to stop short.

Nick almost collided with her and rested his hands on her shoulders to steady them both. ‘OK?' he asked Sammy.

‘I'm fine,' she said. ‘Apparently this happens a bit, especially on the way down. I'm sure we'll both be fine.'

The gradient levelled out, and finally they found themselves in the viewing platform on the centre above the Dome. Sammy took her mobile phone out of her pocket and took snaps of the panoramic view. Nick recognised the cable car, Canary Wharf, the Shard and the Gherkin, along with Royal Greenwich and the sculpture at the Olympic Park.

But best of all was the sunset, just to the side of the buildings of Canary Wharf. He could see exactly why this had been on her bucket list. It was a photographer's dream view.

‘This is an amazing view,' he said.

She beamed. ‘I hoped it would be like this—and I love the way all the skyscrapers are lit up, too, now it's dusk. Hey, can I take a selfie with you?'

He laughed. ‘That sounds
really
weird coming from a professional photographer.'

‘Don't knock it. A good selfie can still be a good shot. If you hold your arm out far enough and zoom in, then you're not going to end up with a bulbous nose or big ears.'

‘Bulbous nose?'

She laughed. ‘Like that shot where the monkey stole that camera from the photographer and managed to take a selfie. I've seen a few of those in my time.' She took a few snaps of them together on the edge of the walkway, with the iconic masts from the Dome sticking out on either side of them. And Nick enjoyed the fact that he got to put his arm round her, even if they were both in climb suits and he wasn't actually touching her skin.

‘So now we're up here,' Sammy said to their guide, ‘do we get to do the James Bond bit now, minus the bullets?'

‘Sliding down the side of the Dome, you mean?' He laughed. ‘I'm afraid that would be a no.'

‘Pity,' she said, and clipped her harness back on the walkway to start the descent.

At the bottom, once they'd changed out of their climb suits and boots and walked away from the area, Nick teased, ‘What with your yen for outer space, the free running stuff and now this, I think you were totally bluffing about bravery and you're really a thrill seeker at heart.'

‘No. The free running stuff was work, anyway, and I haven't actually done it since. I just think it's a good idea to get out of your comfort zone every so often, because life is short and you need to appreciate every second of it,' she said. ‘In fact, I have a very good idea right now...' She stood on tiptoe, cupped his face with her hands, and pressed her mouth to his.

Her lips were warm and soft and she tasted of strawberries. And Nick couldn't help responding, wrapping his arms tightly round her and nibbling at her lower lip to persuade her to deepen the kiss.

Sammy Thompson made his head spin.

And he couldn't remember the last time he'd reacted so strongly to someone. He'd always thought of himself as careful—that he'd get to know someone over a few months before going to bed with them. But Sammy made him want to take all his brakes off and he wanted to make love with her right now. He wasn't sure if that was more exhilarating or frightening.

‘Great idea,' he said when she finally broke the kiss. ‘Apart from the fact that my head's totally scrambled now, thanks to you.'

‘So you're outside your comfort zone?' she asked.

‘Yes and no.' He stole another kiss. ‘I think I could get to like this very much indeed. You?'

She fanned herself. ‘I don't normally do this sort of thing with complete strangers.'

‘We're not complete strangers now. Plus you've seen me naked,' he pointed out, ‘which puts you at rather an unfair advantage.'

To his amusement, her face went bright scarlet, clashing with her T-shirt. ‘Nothing untoward was on show when you modelled for me,' she reminded him.

‘I was naked, so it still counts. And I think this means I need to get to see you naked, to even things up.'

Her eyes were sparkling. ‘Oh, do you now?'

He pulled her closer and nibbled her ear. ‘That was the best idea I've had all day.' She was still deliciously pink. And he noticed that she wasn't making excuses and backing away. Anticipation skittered through him. Were they both about to break their own rules and fast-track to the next stage?

‘I think we should feature you on the front cover of the calendar,' she said thoughtfully. ‘Because, with your bare chest and your abs, we'll sell tons of copies for the ward.'

Which answered his question. This was teasing banter, not a statement of intent. Best to keep it playful, then. He groaned theatrically. ‘OK. Shutting up now. Do you have to rush off, or shall we have dinner?'

‘Dinner would be good,' she said. ‘Shall we go to one of the restaurants here?'

‘Here's fine. And dinner's on me, seeing as it was my idea and you bought the tickets to the climb.'

‘Thank you,' she said with a smile.

They went to one of the bars inside the Dome, and looked through the menu.

‘You're going to choose dessert first, aren't you?' he asked.

She wrinkled her nose. ‘Yes, but it looks as if most of the puddings on the menu are chocolate.'

‘Problem?' he asked.

She nodded. ‘I hate chocolate puddings.'

‘You don't like chocolate?' He was surprised. Every female he knew loved chocolate.

‘No, I love chocolate,' she said, ‘but I don't like chocolate puddings or chocolate ice cream. And I already know that makes me weird. I've been told that often enough.'

He grinned. ‘Someone rather wise once told me that you like what you like and it doesn't mean you're a philistine—or, in this case, weird.'

She laughed back, clearly recognising that he was throwing her words back at her. ‘I guess.'

She chose the salted caramel cheesecake—the only non-chocolate pudding on the menu—and they ordered a mix of sharing plates between them: ginger and lemon chicken, pulled pork, sweet potato fries, quinoa salad and stuffed peppers.

‘What do you want to drink?' he asked.

‘They can apparently mix a cocktail to suit you,' she said. ‘And I'm really torn between a glass of Prosecco and a cocktail.'

‘You could always have a cocktail based on Prosecco, and that way you get the best of both worlds,' he pointed out. ‘Why not ask the barman? And I'll join you.'

Once they'd told the bartender what they'd chosen to eat, and Sammy explained that she wasn't much of a spirits drinker, he made them a cocktail of Prosecco mixed with ginger liqueur and limoncello.

‘Excellent choice, m'learned friend,' she said to Nick with a grin after the first sip. ‘I like this.'

‘Me, too,' he agreed.

The food was just as good but the company was even better. Nick found himself relaxing with Sammy, laughing and talking about a complete mixture of subjects. Every so often, his fingers brushed against hers as they chose something else from their sharing platter, and adrenalin fizzed through his veins.

Plus there were those kisses. He couldn't get them out of his head. Her mouth was beautiful, her lips soft and warm, and he wanted to kiss Sammy again. Explore her. Find out where she liked being touched, where she liked being kissed. What made her curl her toes with pleasure.

There was definitely something special about Sammy Thompson. But would she be prepared to take a chance on him? Nick still hadn't worked out why she was single. She was bright, she was charming, and she made him see the world in a slightly different way. Someone, he guessed, must have hurt her and made her wary of relationships.

But maybe she could learn to trust him.

And maybe he could learn to trust her.

Because she wasn't like Naomi. Sammy struck him as very straightforward and honest. She wasn't the sort to spin a web of lies and turn someone into the bad guy when he hadn't actually done anything wrong.

After their meal, they walked hand in hand back to the Tube station. ‘Sammy, I know you're old enough and tough enough to look after yourself, but this time will you please let me see you home to your front door?' he asked. At her raised eyebrows, he gave her a rueful smile. ‘OK, I admit—it's because I've enjoyed tonight and I want to spend a few more minutes with you, and seeing you home feels like a good excuse.'

‘And once you see me to my front door, then I'm supposed to invite you in for coffee?' she asked.

‘It's not essential,' he said, ‘though it would be nice.' He paused. ‘And, if you offered, I'd accept.'

‘Even though the coffee's not going to be made with a posh Italian coffee machine like yours?' she tested.

He laughed. ‘You could give me a chipped mug of decaf instant coffee made with long-life milk that was almost out of date and that would be absolutely fine.'

She laughed back. ‘No way—with a coffee machine like yours, you're used to the best and you might even verge on being a coffee snob. And none of my mugs are chipped, thank you very much.'

But she agreed to let him walk her back to her front door. It turned out that she lived in a small flat in Camden, among a row of terraced houses painted ice cream colours. Cute—and the area suited her, he thought. Vibrant, with something interesting round every corner.

‘I'll give you the guided tour of the flat,' she said. ‘It's going to take us all of two minutes—and that's provided I talk a lot while I show you round.'

He smiled. ‘Sounds good to me.'

She hadn't been exaggerating that much; her flat was compact and much, much smaller than his. All the floors were stripped and varnished wood, but that was the only thing their flats had in common. Her walls were all painted cream and the windows had neutral-coloured roman blinds rather than floor-length curtains. Though he guessed that made it easier to focus on the artwork; there were framed photographs grouped together on the walls that seemed to have either a similar theme or a similar colour.

‘Are these all your own pictures?' he asked.

She nodded. ‘I change them round every so often. But it's nice to use the shots rather than just leave them languishing out of sight on my hard drive.'