Christmas at Thistlecombe Cottage

Chapter 4

The inside of the cottage was perfectly toasty and smelled delicious. As Maya walked in, her senses were filled with the aroma of something delightful cooking.

"You're back," Asher called from the kitchen. He had his back to her as he attended to a pot boiling on the stove. "Have you eaten?"

"Had some Christmas bangers and mash at the pub."

Asher turned around, genuine curiosity in his eyes. "What made the bangers and mash a Christmas one?"

"Only that I ate it on Christmas Eve." She chortled at her own joke. "But then they kicked me out."

"Early Christmas Eve hours?"

"Yes. I didn't even know that was a thing! In London the shops are insanely busy on December 24."

Asher nodded. "It's a Thistlecombe Village tradition. Christmas Eve is a pretty big deal, apparently. Something to do with their history, so the shops close early. Terry mentioned it."

"The pubs too." Maya watched as Asher turned back to the stove to attend to what he was cooking. "Well, I'll let you get back to your cooking. I'll just be on the couch. Don't worry, you won't hear a peep out of me. Have a good night."

"The roast will take thirty more minutes. Can you wait until then?"

Maya was about to walk out of the kitchen but stopped to look at him. "Me?"

"Yes, you. Unless you've got other plans." Asher turned to look at her. "Otherwise, please feel free to have dinner with me." His smile, though small, was as warm as the inside of Thistlecombe Cottage.

"Oh, I don't want to intrude. It looks like you're expecting company."

"No company, just the one I share this cottage with. If she obliges me."

Maya attributed the flush in her cheeks to the warmth of the kitchen and the promise of a delicious Christmas meal but definitely not to the invitation from a posh, handsome man who looked dapper wearing an apron. "Dinner would be lovely. It already smells amazing. Thank you. Anything I can help with?"

Asher bent to peek inside the oven. "I've got this. Go get settled and get some rest. You've had a long day."

Maya used the time to get changed into a simple black dress and a pair of sensible heels. When she went back to the kitchen, she found a beautiful spread on the table bathed in candlelight.

"I hope you're hungry." Asher was opening a bottle of rosé. In a cream turtleneck and with immaculate hair and an easy smile on his face, he didn't look like he had just cooked up a feast. He pulled a chair from under the table and urged her to take a seat before taking the one across from her.

"You made all this?" Maya's eyes went wide at the sight of everything on the table: delightful-looking pigs in a blanket, Yorkshire pudding, roasted potatoes, and a beautiful plate of roast beef as the centerpiece. "How?"

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, how did you make all this and still look like . . . that?"

Asher just stared at her with a blank expression, like he still didn't understand the question.

"I mean, you don't look exhausted at all, even after all the time you spent cooking."

You still look like a movie star. A movie star playing an impossibly handsome character who never dirtied his apron when he cooked, let alone his immaculate outfit underneath. Maya bit her lip to keep herself from blurting out what she was thinking.

Asher chuckled. "Well, I've had a bit of practice. I mean, I have been doing this for fourteen years."

I bet you've been handsome for far longer than that. Maya had to take a sip of water to keep her thoughts from spilling out of her lips. She cleared her throat. "What do you do, exactly?"