Chapter 8
They walked in silence back to the shop, shoulders hunched against the cold. The incessant rain had stopped, but a searching frost had replaced it. Lawrence kept glancing at Christy, but he appeared deep in thought. A frown line drew his brows down and his lips were drawn into a thin line. A gust of wind whipped at his scarf, making Christy grab it and stuff it back into his coat. Every time he looked at Christy, he felt the shape of his lips on his cheek. Unconsciously, he rubbed his fingers against the spot, and then, realising what he was doing, shoved his hands back in his pockets.
When they arrived back at the shop, the back room was still warm. With a sigh of relief, he divested himself of his outer garments and held his hands out to the fire to warm them. Christy followe
