Thank you so much for the awesome reviews, especially scramblinrosie who always leaves such lengthy comments! That was a lovely something to come home to after a long day at work :)

Chapter 28

When Clara woke up she wasn't quite sure where she was, but somehow it all felt too familiar. The bed, the soft snoring next to her. She smiled to herself, thinking that she should have known better than to trust a man who said he didn't snore, but for some reason, she didn't mind the sound at all. Clara blinked a couple of times and spotted John next to her, still fast asleep, and the light smile on his face told her that he was probably dreaming about something nice.

As quietly as she could Clara rose from her side of the bed and sneaked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. John had been nice towards her from the beginning, the way he had taken care of her after her encounter with the rude wedding guest, he had learned how to dance just for her and he had offered her a place to sleep for the night – Clara was determined to repay his kindness at least to some extent and a delicious breakfast seemed like exactly the right place to start.

John wasn't exactly a slob, but as she soon realized, he had his very own way of arranging things as the packaging tape between his mugs and an ancient looking computer mouse in his cutlery drawer were proof of. Clara smiled to herself when she opened the fridge and his cupboards and found all the ingredients she needed to make an American style breakfast with strong coffee and French toast. When the coffee maker switched off and the first toast was sizzling in the frying pan, Clara noticed the first signs that John was beginning to wake up.

"Something smells good," he said under a yawn as he trudged into the kitchen and a moment later John glanced over her shoulder. "French toast?"

Clara giggled when she turned to look at him. "I thought I'd make us something for breakfast. Since you were kind enough to take in a homeless wedding planner."

"You didn't have to. I could have made something," he replied.

In return, she granted him a smile. "I don't mind. Like I said, I wanted to do something nice for you for a change."

John's features lit up. "At least let me help."

When he tried to make his way past her towards the stove, Clara tried her best to block his path. "Out of the question. This is my turn to be nice, so sit," she told him sternly and raised the spatula as a warning.

Yet he didn't seem to have the slightest intention to give in to her when Clara noticed the broad grin on his face and suddenly John darted forward and grabbed her by the waist. Clara laughed when he tried to push her out of the way, but she was a lot stronger than she looked and just like John she had no intention of giving up.

"John, the toast," she laughed, trying to tell him that it was going to burn when they didn't stop their wrestling soon, but instead of letting her go John only pulled her a closer when he realized she wouldn't budge.

The moment Clara fell against his chest she was suddenly very glad of his support because her knees were weak and shaking just a little when he smiled down at her. Clara uttered a breathless laugh. "We're gonna have coal for breakfast," she argued, but John didn't even seem to hear her and it wasn't as if Clara really minded. She had missed this kind of closeness, she had missed being held by a man, missed the warmth of his body and the feelings it was rousing in her.

A part of her wasn't even surprised when John raised his hands and cupped her cheeks. Somehow it felt almost natural all of a sudden as he bent down and brought their lips together in a careful, gentle kiss and the only thing Clara could think of was that she had wanted this to happen since the first time they met. She parted her lips for him, almost afraid it was going to make him stop, but instead John pulled her a little closer and kissed her until she felt like she was running out of breath. The butterflies in her stomach went haywire and Clara found herself reaching for the lapels of his flannel pyjamas, anything to hold on to before she lost her grip on reality.

When they finally ran out of air for good and their lips parted again, John smiled at her. It was then that it all came back to her and she realized that they had gone too far. He was her client and even though she had tried to ignore the painful truth, John was going to get married to another woman. Clara had to leave and she had to do it now before either of them did something even more stupid.

"I should go," she reasoned and tried to pull away, but John's hand had slid down again and was now keeping a tight grip around her wrist.

"Please, stay for breakfast," John almost pleaded with her while he gave her hand a soft squeeze.

Yet Clara shook her head and finally tore her arm free. "No, I should really leave," she replied and before John made another attempt to change her mind, Clara turned around and darted towards the sofa where she had draped her jacket over the backrest.

She didn't care that she was still in her pyjamas, she simply threw on the jacket, grabbed her suitcase and headed out of the door. Right now she needed time to think and she couldn't do that in John's presence.

John had half a mind to go after her, his heart wanted to, but his head knew that it would probably do more harm than good. He had kissed her. Why had he kissed her? Right now John couldn't even say, but the more time passed the surer he became that he couldn't just let Clara leave like this, so he grabbed his own jacket and darted after her.

John made it down the flight of stairs, almost stumbling over his own two feet in the hurry, and when he had reached for his keys and threw the door open, John instantly felt his body collide with someone else.

"Whoah, slow down!" Missy barked at him. "Where do you think you're going?"

John was gasping for air, completely out of breath from just running down the stairs, but he didn't have time to deal with his sister right now. He had to go after Clara and talk to her. If he waited for much longer, he wouldn't be able to catch up with her.


"Not now, Missy," John hissed and tried to push past her, but his sister successfully blocked his path, no matter how much he tried to evade her. "Please, let me through."

"Not a chance," she argued and closed the door behind her. John groaned. "You're agitated and you're in your pyjamas, so whatever you're trying to do, it's probably a bad idea."

With a sigh, John gave up his attempts to escape his sister because he knew that she was right. He had messed up and Clara had had every right to run away. John should just give her the time she needed until he called her to apologize.

"There's a good boy," Missy told him and John glowered at her at her choice of words. "Wanna tell me why you're in such a state?"

"I'm not in a state," he growled while his head was trying to come up with a suitable lie. Missy wouldn't be fooled easily. She knew him too well for that. "I was gonna get coffee."

"In your pyjamas?" His sister raised her eyebrows.

When John failed to answer, Missy took a moment to give him a thorough look from head to toe, obviously trying to determine what he had actually attempted to do. She didn't seem to come to a conclusion, so after a while, his sister merely shrugged. "Are you having a problem of any kind?" she wanted to know.

"Everyone has problems," John argued gruffly.

"Mh," Missy hummed, still looking him over suspiciously. "Is it a pretty problem?"

"What?"

"Ah, you know. Pretty, beautiful, if a bit short," his sister went on and now the tone of her voice was mocking him. "Brown hair, dark eyes, also wearing pyjamas."

John could do nothing but frown at her.

"I saw your wedding planner heading down the road!" Missy told him, her voice heavy with annoyance as if she couldn't believe how John could be so thick.

Yet John didn't have a chance to reply when his door bell rang and he instantly made his way past Missy, knowing it couldn't be anyone but Clara who had decided to come back after all, yet when he opened the door, John stared straight into the face of another problem he had momentarily forgotten about.