New Arrivals on Lovelace Lane Read online

  Living up to its esteemed status, the restaurant was stunning, the food sublime, the wine superlative and the service second to none. Add a hot date to the mix and all the ingredients conspired to make the perfect evening. Yet, despite the overwhelming perfection, Chrissie had remained on edge the entire time; feeling like she was acting a part in one of Gwen’s am-dram productions; not being herself at all.

  ‘I’d love you to come over to Rio,’ Raphael had uttered, over a sumptuous dessert.

  Which had made Chrissie wonder, after having caught him looking at her a few times, if Paul might be right: the man did fancy her. But while she had little doubt that Raphael could provide all the travel, glamour, romance and excitement her life lacked, it had hit her – while preparing for bed that evening – that that wasn’t what she wanted at all. She was much more at home in her scruffy overalls than a posh frock. And she’d enjoyed the evening in her dusty kitchen, in her dressing gown, with no electricity and a plate of spicy meatballs, much more than she had dressed to the nines in a Michelin star gastronomic haven.

  Because that evening had been with Olly.

  Who she now knew, without a shadow of doubt, she not only fancied, but had also tumbled ever so slightly in love with.

  However, just as there was no point pining for Olly – because he was with Goddess Diana - there was also no point starting anything with Raphael. Her heart simply wouldn’t be in it. Which meant, she concluded, yanking up the duvet and scarcely even noticing the after-dinner mint wrapper there, if this evening had been her one and only opportunity to find love on Lovelace Lane, then she had well and truly blown it.

  Chapter Eleven

  Chrissie, Jess and Harry waved off their visitors at the airport, Valentina, still pale and weak, thanking them all for taking such good care of her and her father.

  ‘I really would love to see you in Rio,’ Raphael had whispered, as he’d planted a kiss on each of Chrissie’s cheeks.

  ‘It’s a lovely offer, but I don’t think I’ll be taking you up on it,’ she’d replied.

  ‘You don’t know what you’re missing,’ he’d said with a wink.

  Chrissie, though, knew perfectly well what she was missing: candles, homemade meatballs and a certain duffel-coated birdwatcher.

  But she’d have to carry on missing them, because not only was the certain duffel-coated birdwatcher in a relationship with a beautiful blonde, he was also probably off to Guatemala soon.

  ‘Who’s been eating the After Eight Mints?’ Chrissie demanded that afternoon.

  ‘Not me,’ retorted Harry. ‘They’re rank.’

  ‘Too sickly,’ agreed Jess. ‘They’re the only chocolates I don’t like.’

  ‘Well, somebody must have eaten them. The box is half-empty.’

  ‘Must be the ghost,’ chortled Jess, just as the doorbell rang.

  It was Olly.

  In his duffel coat.

  The combination of which set off a furious fluttering of butterflies in Chrissie’s stomach.

  ‘Can I, um, have a word?’ he asked sheepishly.

  ‘Of course,’ she said, doing her best to act normally. ‘Come on in.’

  He smiled his thanks, stepping inside and following her down the hall to the living room.

  ‘How are you? Did you enjoy the party?’ she enquired, when they’d reached their destination.

  ‘Yes,’ he replied, closing the door behind him. ‘You?’

  ‘It was fun,’ said Chrissie, heart rate increasing as she wondered what this “word” might be about if it needed to take place behind closed doors. ‘And nice to meet Diana. How is she?’

  ‘She… she left yesterday. Gone down to London for a few weeks before heading off to Brazil again.’

  ‘Oh. That’s nice. Dolphins?’

  He nodded. ‘I think she’s planning to meet up with Raphael while she’s out there too.’

  Chrissie quirked a brow. He sounded remarkably cool about his gorgeous girlfriend meeting up with the equally gorgeous Raphael. But she was about to discover why.

  ‘Actually, we’ve decided to call it a day,’ he informed her, pulling a face and shuffling his feet.

  Chrissie’s heart began furiously thudding. So much so, that a feeble ‘Oh,’ was all she could manage in response. After all, just because he was now free and single, didn’t mean he’d want anything to do with her.

  ‘We had a long chat and realised we wanted different things.’

  She nodded, wishing she had the teeniest inkling where the conversation might be heading.

  ‘Well,’ she piped up, in far too cheery a tone, ‘I’m sure there’ll be lots of other lovely researchers out in Guatemala.’

  He shrugged. ‘Possibly. One of them might even take my place. Because I’m not going.’

  Chrissie’s breath caught in her throat. ‘No funding?’ she choked out, not daring to hope there might be another reason.

  ‘No desire. At least not for the trip.’

  At the look he shot her following that declaration, Chrissie’s knees almost caved.

  He closed the gap between them, taking her hand in his, with the same firm, gentle grip he’d used when tending her finger.

  ‘I’ve decided,’ he began, brown eyes burning into hers, ‘that I’ve done enough gallivanting. And that, having spent time on Lovelace Lane and seen how happy my brother and his wife are, I’d like to put down roots too. Which is why I’ve accepted a teaching post. At Newcastle University.’

  ‘That’s… nice,’ squeaked Chrissie, decidedly light-headed as he rubbed his thumb against her wrist and she watched his lips moving. Lips that looked even more kissable than usual.

  ‘And as a little bird tells me spring here is rather nice,’ he continued, ‘I thought I’d hang around a bit longer.’

  Chrissie smiled, suspecting she did now know the direction the conversation was heading: exactly the direction she’d hoped. ‘And would that little bird be the yellow-bottomed—?’

  ‘Yellow-rumped warbler. Except there is no yellow-rumped warbler.’

  ‘But I thought you said—’

  ‘I did. And I thought it was. When I first looked at it through steamed-up specs. But it was actually just a common or garden goldfinch.’

  She puckered her brow. ‘So why did you keep coming—?’

  ‘Into your garden? To see you, of course.’

  She giggled. ‘Really? That was a bit naughty.’

  ‘Naughty. But very, very nice,’ he whispered, lowering his lips to hers, at exactly the same time two After Eight Mint wrappers fluttered across the floor and the room filled with the scent of parma violets.

  Also in the Lovelace Lane series

  The Little Cottage on Lovelace Lane

  (Lovelace Lane, Book 1)

  It's love at first sight for Lily when she first sets eyes on Hollyhocks Cottage on the gorgeous Lovelace Lane. But after months together in a caravan while the renovations take place, boyfriend, Luke, is not quite so enamoured with the place.

  With Lily and Luke's relationship stretched to the limit, a dishy builder taking over the project, Luke's two precocious kids to deal with, and her gran acting very strangely, will Hollyhocks ever become Lily's dream home? Or will it be a bit of a nightmare?

  The Big House on Lovelace Lane

  (Lovelace Lane, Book 2)

  When widow Ruth Dutton accepted her daughter’s offer to live in the annexe of The Big House on Lovelace Lane, she imagined her days being filled with sedate activities like reading and painting.

  But with three teenagers in residence, a huge party being planned, her formidable daughter’s matchmaking schemes to contend with, and saucy shenanigans going on in the garden shed, Ruth can’t help thinking The Mad House might be a more appropriate name for her new home.

  The Wedding on Lovelace Lane

  (Lovelace Lane, Book 3)

  When Evie Lomax’s wedding reception is cancelled at the last minute, she has a brilliant idea - to hold the event at her parents’
house on Lovelace Lane!

  Not everybody, though, is thrilled at the prospect: Evie’s parents are jittery, her future mother-in-law is seething, her fiancé is preoccupied, and her ex-boyfriend is … back on the scene.

  With so many complications and a whole heap of pressure, will the wedding run smoothly? Or will Evie decide to call the whole thing off?

  Christmas on Lovelace Lane

  (Lovelace Lane, Book 4)

  With a beautiful house on Lovelace Lane, brilliant jobs and a great marriage, Carl and Sally Turnbull have the perfect life. Or they had. Until fate threw a rather large stumbling block in their way. With their relationship tested to the limit, Sally decides they need a break – from one another - for three whole months, which includes the festive period. But with a new man suddenly appearing in Sally’s life, Carl finding himself increasingly attracted to another woman, plus all the stress of Christmas, will the break prove temporary? Or will they both be kissing someone else under the mistletoe?