Kate Hardy - A Forever Family - Their Christmas Delivery

‘I can’t believe I made this,’ he said, looking at the plates. After the first mouthful, he amended that to, ‘I really can’t believe I made this.’

‘Healthy and impressive,’ she said. ‘And it’s easy. Josh, what you do at work every day is way harder than cooking dinner.’

‘Maybe.’ But cooking for one was no fun. Which was the main reason why he lived on toasted sandwiches and takeaways.

They spent the evening curled up on the sofa, watching films. Josh was careful this time not to give in to the temptation of holding Amy’s hand or drawing her into his arms.

But, after Hope’s last feed of the evening, he could see the worry on Amy’s face.

‘Maybe we should both sleep on the sofa again tonight,’ he said. ‘We can still take turns at getting up for her, but it also means if you’re worried you can wake me more quickly.’

She took a deep breath. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way,’ she said, ‘but I was thinking along the same lines. My bed’s a double and it’ll be a lot more comfortable than the sofa. We’re adults and we can share a bed without...’

His mouth went dry as he finished the sentence mentally. Without making love.

Which was what he really wanted to do with Amy. Kiss her, discover where she liked being touched and what made her eyes go dark with pleasure.

‘Fully dressed,’ he said. Because lying in bed with her, with them both wearing pyjamas, might be a little too much temptation for him to resist. And he hoped she couldn’t hear the slight huskiness in his voice.

‘Of course.’

Her bedroom was exactly as he’d expected, all soft creams and feminine, yet without being frilly or fussy and over the top. There was a framed picture of a seascape on the wall, the curtains were floral chintz, and the whole room was restful and peaceful.

Though when he lay next to her in bed with the light off—with both of them fully dressed—he was far from feeling restful and peaceful. He was too aware of the last time he’d shared a bed with someone, just over a year ago. OK, so he’d finally got to the stage where he could move on with his life... But could it be with Amy? He definitely had feelings for her, and he was fairly sure that it was mutual; but was it because they’d had this intense sharing of space over the last few days, while they’d been looking after Hope, or was it something real? Would he be enough for her, the way he hadn’t been for Kelly? Or would everything between them change again at New Year, once the baby had gone?

* * *

When Hope cried, Amy got out of bed on autopilot and scooped the baby from the Moses basket. As she padded into the kitchen with the baby in her arms, she woke up fully. Was it her imagination, or did Hope feel hot again?

And then Hope only took half her usual amount of milk.

Panic welled through her, and she switched on her bedside light on its lowest setting. ‘Josh.’

He woke immediately and sat up. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I might be being paranoid, but she didn’t take that much milk just now, and I think she’s hot again.’

He checked the baby over, then grabbed the thermometer and took her temperature. ‘Her temperature’s normal.’

‘So I’m just being ridiculous.’

He settled the baby back into the Moses basket. ‘No. You’re being completely normal. I’d worry, too.’ He wrapped his arms round her. ‘You’re doing just fine, Amy.’

For someone who was never going to be a mum?

She wasn’t sure what made her lean into him—the worry that had made her knees sag, or just the fact that he was there, holding her and seeming to infuse his strength into her as he kept his arms round her.

And was that his mouth against her cheek, in a reassuring kiss?

Something made her tip her head back.

The next thing she knew, his mouth was against hers. Soft, reassuring, gentle.

And then it wasn’t like that any more, because somehow her mouth had opened beneath his and her arms were wrapped round his neck, and he was holding her much more tightly. And the warmth turned to heat, to sheer molten desire.

Then he pulled back.

Oh, God. How embarrassing was she? Throwing herself at her neighbour. Pathetic.

‘Sorry,’ she mumbled, hanging her head and unable to meet his eyes. Hot shame bubbled through her. What the hell had she just done?

‘I should be the one apologising to you.’

Because he’d been kind? Because he’d stopped before she’d really made a fool of herself?

‘No,’ she muttered, still not wanting to look at him and see the pity in his face.

‘Maybe I should sleep on your sofa again,’ he said.

And then things would be even more awkward between them in the morning. ‘No, it’s fine. We’re neighbours—friends—and we’re adults; and we both need to be here for Hope.’ She took a deep breath. ‘We can both pretend that just now didn’t happen.’

‘Good idea,’ he said.

But she still couldn’t face him when she climbed into bed and switched off the light. And she noticed that there was a very large gap in the bed between them, as if he felt as uncomfortable and embarrassed about the situation as she did.

If only she’d kept that iron control she’d prided herself on so much before today. If only she hadn’t kissed him. If only she hadn’t given in to temptation.

She’d just have to hope that the broken night would affect his memory and he’d forget everything about what had just happened.

And she’d really have to put out of her mind how good it had felt in those moments when he’d kissed her back.

CHAPTER SIX

Bank Holiday Monday

AMY WAS WARM and deeply, deeply comfortable.

And then she realised why.

Somehow, during the night, the large gap in the bed between her and Josh had closed. Now her head was pillowed on his shoulder, his arm was round her shoulders, her arm was wrapped round his waist, and her fingers were twined with his.

They were sleeping like lovers.

Oh, help. This was a seriously bad idea. She couldn’t offer Josh a future and it wasn’t fair to lead him on.

Gently, she disentangled her fingers from his. She’d just started to wriggle quietly out of his arms, hoping she wouldn’t wake him, when he said, ‘Good morning.’

No running away from the situation, then. They were going to have to face this head on.

‘Good morning,’ she muttered. ‘I—um—sorry about this.’

‘Me, too.’ Though he didn’t sound concerned or embarrassed.

‘I—um—we’re both tired and sleep-deprived,’ she said. ‘And I guess this was bound to happen as we’re sharing a bed. Propinquity and all that. It doesn’t mean we have...’ She paused, looking for the right word. ‘Intentions.’

‘Absolutely,’ he agreed.

Was he smiling?

She didn’t dare look.

‘I’ll go and make us a cup of tea before Hope wakes,’ she said, and wriggled out of his arms properly.

She splashed her face with cold water in the bathroom, in the hope that it would bring back her common sense. It didn’t. She could still feel the warmth of Josh’s arms around her, and she wanted more. So much more.

How selfish could she get?

Cross with her own stupidity, she filled the kettle with water and rummaged in the cupboard for the tea bags.

* * *

Waking with Amy in his arms was just what Josh had been dreaming about. It had taken him a moment to realise that he was awake, and she really was in his arms.

She’d blamed it on them both being tired and sleep-deprived, and the fact that they’d slept in the same bed. But she’d sounded distinctly flustered.

So did she feel the same way about him that he was starting to feel about her?

He’d promised himself that he’d hold back from starting a relationship with her until after the baby was settled—either with her birth mother, or with long-term foster parents. But they’d kissed, last night. They’d woken in each other’s arms, as if they were meant to be there. He’d been awake before Amy and she’d stayed in his arms for a few moments after she’d woken—which she wouldn’t have done if she hadn’t wanted to be there.