Fireside Romance Book 1: First Flames Read Online Free Page B

really put away his food. I delighted in the fact I was able to help him in some small way. After all, he was helping me as well, by allowing me to hug and kiss him—although he wasn’t shy about hugging and kissing me back.
    After the meal was over, Mark offered to help with the cleaning up.
    I refused. “You’re my guest, and guests don’t do the washing up.”
    Besides, I thought to myself, I’ll do it when you’ve gone, it’ll take my mind off things.
    I’d lit the fire in the front room on our arrival, so a nice blaze greeted us when we retired to the sofa. We’d decided to listen to some music. Since I knew Mark liked classical, too, I offered to play the Beethoven Pastoral symphony that I’d still not returned. I was pleased to learn Mark was pretty knowledgeable about the piece.
    “‘An early example of programme music,’” he read from the liner notes.
    I’d read the little booklet myself earlier, but I liked hearing Mark’s soft, deep voice close by my ear.
    “‘The first movement—Pleasant Feelings on Arrival in the Country uses seven distinct motifs in sonata form…’”
    I closed my eyes and tried to imagine myself in the countryside, with Mark. We were in a meadow, he holding me in his arms, both of us soaking up the sunshine. It was heaven.
    When the final movement ended I opened my eyes and looked over at the mantle clock. With dismay I saw my time was up. In fact it had ended about ten minutes earlier. I hadn’t heard Mark’s watch alarm go off.
    Perhaps he didn’t set it. Hmm, I thought.
    “Time’s beaten us again,” I said, little above a whisper.
    He let out a long breath. “Yes.”
    I didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. I knew his time was valuable to him. If he didn’t work, he didn’t get any money. “I hate that you have to go. But I know you need to.”
    He gave me a tight squeeze, then a long kiss on the lips.
    We both got up and I led him to the door, all the time holding his hand. I didn’t want to let go, but knew I had to. I gave him back his coat, hugged him again and told him to stay safe.
    “I’ll see you again soon,” I told him, opening the door.
    “Looking forward to it.” He smiled and turned away.
    I closed and locked the door, then went back to the sofa and collapsed on it.
    “Oh, God, this is awful. I wish you could have stayed.” The opening of Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities came to mind: ‘It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.’
    I could still smell Mark’s cologne on the cushions.
    I stretched out on the couch feeling pretty sorry for myself. Then I gave myself a thorough talking to, got up and went into the kitchen and cleaned up. After this had been done, I felt drained, and so went upstairs to the bathroom and ran a warm bath. I always felt better after a good soak. I’d bought some relaxing bath oils, and I was certainly glad of their calming effects that night.
    Thankfully sleep came easily, and I drifted off to thoughts of holding Mark in my arms.
    * * * *
    Life continued its predictable pattern over the next few months. The weather gradually turned colder and wetter. The shops in the town got out their Christmas decorations, and the Council put up strings of coloured lights between the lampposts all down the main street. They had also coughed up for a large pine tree in the town square, and wrapped lights round it. Fortunately the local vandals didn’t wreck the thing. Although I didn’t much enjoy walking home in the dark, it was nice to see the Christmas lights, and also to look in the shop windows at all the festive displays. The children’s section of the library had the only windows, which faced the high street, so it was up to the staff there to trim up the library’s contribution to the town’s outward show of festive cheer. The staff got the children to make decorations, and along with an aged—but still functional—carved nativity set, this comprised the display.
    Of course the