Love At Christmas, Actually: The Little Christmas Kitchen / Driving Home for Christmas / Winter's Fairytale. Jenny Oliver

‘Was anything about that statement essentially untrue?’

      ‘We were going on different paths, there was no point dragging you down, I had to be responsible for my own mistakes…’ She ticked off the reasons on her fingers.

      ‘I’m not talking about when you got pregnant, although that’s a factor. I’m talking about wanting to break up in the first place. You couldn’t have one tie to this place. You had to have all or nothing, and it’s the same now. Denying yourself any interaction, any love or affection in ten years? You’re young, Megan.’

      ‘I don’t feel like it,’ she huffed, arms crossed until she realised she looked like a moody teenager, and sipped her wine snootily.

      Lucas started a new offensive. ‘And what do you think Skye’s relationships are going to be like, when she’s seen her mother close herself off, never let anyone get close? You don’t think she’s going to pick up the same idea; that no one can be trusted to take you as you are?’

      Megan slammed her hand down on the table. ‘That’s enough! Stop bringing my daughter into this like she’s your trump card. I don’t want her to get attached to someone who might not stick around. It’s been us against the world since forever, and she’s been fine with that.’

      Lucas leaned in. ‘Then why is she asking about her dad?’

      ‘Because we never should have come here!’ Megan stood up. ‘And I should never have done this, it’s ridiculous. Acting like we’re kids again – we’re not! I am a grown-up with bigger responsibilities than having sex and feeling butterflies. My kid has to come first. Always. She is always going to come first, Lucas.’

      Megan looked around for her coat, and pushed in her chair. ‘I’m sorry, this was a bad idea. Thank you for dinner.’

      Lucas stood up and followed her across the room. ‘It wasn’t, it wasn’t a bad idea.’ He put his arms around her waist, leaning his forehead against hers, and she let him, because she was weak, and he was warm, and comforting, and still smelled just like him, that unchangeable essence that was Lucas. She closed her eyes.

      ‘I’m not asking to come first. I’m not asking for anything, except for you to let me in. Take a holiday from your life for a few more days. I promise when you go I won’t beg you to stay.’ His voice was a gravelly whisper, and she felt his breath against her cheek.

      What did she have to lose, really? A few days with Lucas, feeling wanted and warm and alive, before she went back to that life that she’d been sleepwalking through?

      ‘I’ll beg you to stay now though, if necessary.’ She heard the smile in his voice and opened her eyes. His eyes had always got to her, she could stare at them for ages, that sapphire blue that seemed too bright to be real.

      ‘Okay,’ her voice was croaky, ‘okay.’

      He pulled her close until they were completely aligned, kissing her delicately, exploring, opening her up until she was desperate for him, tugging at the thin knit jumper he had on until he pulled it over his head and chucked it across the room. She took a moment to look at him, tracing the lines of his body. He’d been slim before, a wiry frame, but this body had been toned and tuned with purpose. She traced a finger along the ‘v’ of his hipbone, unsure of why it turned her on so much.

      ‘A little different,’ Lucas smirked, reaching for her, holding her against his hard chest.

      ‘Very,’ she breathed against him, feeling him turn her around so he could unzip her dress. She paused, then pulled down the leggings and the dress, standing there in her black bra and knickers. She waited for the assessment, nervous of how he would see her adult body, no longer lithe and athletic, but curved and soft.

      ‘Woah.’ His eyes were focused on her chest. ‘Those are different too.’ He kissed down her neck to her breasts, licking and sucking through the thin lace fabric, until she felt she was about to pass out. The blood seemed to rush from her head, and all she was left with was a dizzying need. She growled a little as he bit her nipple gently, and pulled him closer by the belt buckle. She needed to be pushed up against him, needed his weight on her.

      ‘Bedroom?’ he gasped against her neck as her hand dropped lower, caressing him through his jeans. He grabbed her hand and dragged her through one of the doors next to the kitchen.

      She blinked as he turned the lamp on, so the white room was illuminated in a soft golden glow. He backed her up against the bed until her knees hit, and she lay back, just looking at him. He watched her for a moment, bare-chested, a look of wonder on his face. She scanned him again, noticed the tattoos that weren’t there before, the muscles, the scars. She wanted to map out his body and know the story behind every mark. Later. For now, she just wanted him against her, inside her, desperately, in a way she’d never felt before. She had to have him.

      Megan pulled his hand, dragging him down so he was on top of her, kissing him again. She could feel him against her, and reached down to undo his belt, the heavy silver buckle deliciously cool against her skin.

      He was attached to her neck, biting softly, just enough to make her crazy. It had never been like this before. As she struggled with his belt his fingers grazed her hip, settling just under the waistband of her underwear. A deep intake of breath as his fingers slipped lower, teasing her, making her desperate, moving in a pattern, but never quite getting close enough.

      ‘Luke…’ she sighed, throwing her head back.

      ‘Way ahead of you.’ He kissed her cheek before getting up, shrugging out of his jeans and underwear, and going to the dresser for a condom. Megan blushed, because she hadn’t even been thinking about that, she’d been thinking about him hurrying the hell up. She watched with interest as he rolled it down carefully. They’d never really looked at each other before, she realised. Everything was under covers, touches and movements. She felt her heartbeat quicken with the realisation that it was finally happening. She was sitting on the edge of the bed as he came back, grinning the grin of a man who was about to get what he wanted. He leaned down to kiss her, and scooped her up, so she was forced to wrap her legs around his waist for balance. She felt him move against her, rocking back and forth, the thin fabric of her underwear still between them, tantalisingly close but not close enough. She squirmed and Lucas seemed to agree, standing her carefully back on the floor, and kneeling down to kiss her hipbones as he slowly pulled her underwear down. He grinned up at her, those eyes shining, and she pulled him up, pushing him onto the bed and climbing on top of him.

      ‘Way to take control, Angel,’ he gasped against her mouth as she reached for him, guiding him into her, painfully slowly, savouring the contact. She watched his eyes widen as she moved against him, moving her hips, slowly at first and then quicker as his fingers dug into her thighs. He gripped her harder, keeping her steady as she kept moving, that deep rhythmic pull within pushing her faster and harder against him, until her body stilled suddenly, tensing as he did, collapsing against him.

      They lay there in silence for a few moments, breathing heavily, until Megan lifted up her head to look at him.

      ‘Definitely wasn’t like that before!’ Lucas laughed.

      ‘I’m starting to see the advantages of being an adult,’ Megan laughed, rolling off him and lying on the bed.

      ‘When I said I missed you, I don’t think I made it clear how much…’ Lucas grinned, stroking her stomach with a fingertip.

      ‘I really think you did,’ Megan replied, curling up on him and promptly falling asleep.

       Chapter Eight

      August 2003

       ‘My parents will not give me a break!’ Megan ranted, stalking into Lucas’ room, smelling of booze and cigarettes.

       ‘Do they know you’re here?’ he said seriously, looking at the clock. It was eleven pm.