Snowbound With The Single Dad. Laura Iding

him another smile as she climbed into the car. ‘You would have been horrified. I even resorted to bedsocks last night!’

      ‘Were they pink?’ He started the car and pulled out of the car park.

      ‘How did you guess?’

      ‘Because some things don’t change.’ Pink had always been her favourite colour. The words had come out before he’d had time to think about them. Because nothing could be further from the truth. Things had changed, for both of them—probably more than they could ever have imagined.

      Thirteen years was a long time.

      There was silence for a few seconds, as if she was thinking the same kind of thoughts that he was.

      She gestured to the side. ‘This way.’ She waited until he changed lanes. ‘I guess I always did like pink,’ she said quietly. She touched the collar of her coat. ‘I’ve even got a pink coat, I just didn’t wear it today.’

      Another little memory sparked into his brain. Jessica’s wardrobe. She’d had the biggest array of clothes he’d ever seen. He shot her a smile. ‘Knowing you, you’ve probably got a coat for every colour of the rainbow.’

      She tilted her head to the side as if she was racking her brain. ‘Emerald green.’

      He raised his eyebrows.

      ‘That’s the colour I’m missing. I need to get an emerald-green raincoat and the rainbow will be complete.’ She pointed in front of them. ‘It’s just over here. Pull in to the left.’

      He halted just in front of the Italian-style coffee shop, walking around and opening the door for her.

      The heat hit them as soon as they walked inside, along with a whole host of mouth-watering smells.

      He pulled out a chair and helped her off with her coat, before sitting across from her and bringing out his array of paperwork. But his brain wasn’t focusing on the paperwork.

      Taking Jessica out of her own environment felt a little odd. It felt personal but this was business. A professional meeting. Nothing more, nothing less. No matter how casual it seemed.

      No matter how easy it seemed.

      Why did he have to keep reminding himself about that?

      He pointed to the menu. ‘What do you recommend?’

      ‘Anything and everything. There won’t be a single thing in here that you don’t like.’

      The waitress appeared at their side.

      ‘Just a latte for me, please.’

      ‘No.’

      He couldn’t help it. Her thin frame was too much for him. He was resisting the temptation to just order her some mushrooms, a portion of lasagne and some garlic bread. Things they used to eat together a long time ago and he knew that she liked.

      He couldn’t help but wonder who was looking out for Jess right now. Surely her friends had spoken to her quietly and told her she’d lost too much weight? It didn’t matter that he hadn’t seen her in years, he couldn’t stand by and say nothing.

      The waitress looked a little taken aback. Callum’s eyes ran down the menu. ‘You need more than just coffee. Order something else.’

      He could see her take a deep breath, getting ready to argue with him. But he shook his head, the smallest of movements, then reached over and touched her hand. ‘Don’t.’

      He kept his gaze steady. They’d been friends for such a long time. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t seen her in years. It didn’t matter that fate had thrown them together. He had no idea what had happened in the last few years for Jess—and she might never tell him. But he could focus on what was in front of him.

      The one thing he could do something about.

      And she knew him. She knew him well.

      She would know that he would never cause a scene, but she would also know that when he was determined, there was no way around him.

      Her brown eyes were fixed on where his hand was touching hers. Was she annoyed? Did she think it inappropriate? Because he’d only done what had felt natural—and it didn’t feel inappropriate to him.

      He could see the long exhalation of breath, the relaxing of her shoulders, then she lifted her long dark eyelashes to meet his gaze.

      The long dark eyelashes that used to tickle his cheeks.

      The thought came out of nowhere, triggering a whole host of memories in his brain. Now, they could be inappropriate.

      Jess’s fingers moved under his. She looked at the waitress. ‘What’s the soup?’

      ‘Minestrone or tomato and herb, both served with crusty bread.’

      Jess pressed her lips together. ‘I’ll have the minestrone. Please.’ She handed the menu over.

      ‘I’ll have the same—the soup and a latte.’ Something fired in his brain and he remembered what she’d said in the car. ‘And carrot cake—for both of us, please.’ It wasn’t what he would normally eat at this time. The paperwork was still in front of him. But right now it was the least of his concerns.

      Would she tell him what had happened to her in the last few years? And, in return, would he be able to tell her about Drew?

      He took the bull by the horns. ‘You’re thin, Jess. A lot thinner than you used to be. I’d rather have bought you a three-course meal than a plate of soup.’

      ‘Who said I was letting you buy it?’

      He smiled. There it was. The spark that had seemed missing at times. The spark that took him back thirteen years.

      Every now and then it flared, reappearing out of nowhere. Then the thin veil would come back down and the Jessica that he had once known would disappear.

      He leaned back in the chair. Sparring with Jess now felt as natural as it had years ago. ‘Oh, you’re letting me. I can assure you of that.’

      ‘Still a stubborn bossy boots, then, Callum?’

      ‘I had a very good teacher,’ was his automatic response. But it only took a second to know what he really should do. He stretched across the table and took both her hands in his. ‘Actually, I’m still a concerned friend.’

      He could sense her pull back a little. See her wariness at his actions.

      ‘We haven’t seen each other in years, Callum. We lost touch. You’ve no idea what’s happened in my life and I’ve no idea what’s happened in yours. If that accident hadn’t happened yesterday, our paths might never have crossed again.’

      ‘And that would have been a real shame.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m not glad the accident happened. I’m not glad those kids were injured. But I am glad our paths have crossed again. It’s nice to see you.’ His voice was low and the words said quietly. He hoped she could see the sincerity in his eyes.

      She paused for a moment then said, ‘It’s nice to see you again too.’ She gave him a little smile. ‘You always were a pest when it came to food.’ She had a glint in her eye, and he could see her visibly relaxing, sinking a little further into her chair and leaning her elbows on the desk so they were closer.

      His reaction was entirely natural—he leaned forward too. ‘Jessica Rae, I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’

      She raised her eyebrows, her smile spreading across her face. She placed her head on her hands. ‘What about the cookie incident, then?’

      He stifled a laugh.

      The memories came flooding back. A visit to the cinema with Jess asking him to hold her coffee and cookie that he’d bought her while she went and washed her hands. They’d been running late and the film had already started by the time they’d fumbled