‘And stealing some cheap crap is going to help us how?’
Ruby rolled her eyes. ‘Okay, say you’ve got a job interview, and you need a shirt. Say you need to do a class that needs materials. We deserve a little help.’
Chelsea knew it wasn’t right, but something about it felt right. They did need help. They were at a disadvantage. And who was going to help them, two girls from the estate? What hope did they have for a life that was more than what everyone else got in Badgeley?
‘Life skills, babe,’ Ruby nodded certainly, pulling her hair free and taking off the ridiculous glasses. ‘Your education begins.’
‘Wake up, sleepyhead.’
Kit was a morning person. Which Chelsea actually loved. When she had to get up early for work. Not when she was still emotionally drained from dealing with her family.
Before she even opened her eyes, she could smell the coffee. Kit had a thing about making coffee in a cafetiere. He loved the ritual of it all. He had a posh espresso machine on the sparkling kitchen counter but he said it was too instantaneous, too easy. Good things came to those who waited for decent coffee, apparently.
‘What is this?’ Chelsea blinked a little at the sunlight streaming through the windows of the bedroom.
His smile matched the sunlight. ‘I walked down to your favourite bakery to get those almond things you like.’
He wasn’t kidding. On a tray was a pile of almond croissants dusted with sugar, a cafetiere with two mugs, a bunch of sunflowers and a Kit Kat.
Chelsea smiled at him. ‘Is it my birthday?’
‘I’ve decided I want today to be your favourite day ever,’ Kit shrugged, bouncing in that way he had, the ever-eager puppy. ‘We’ll leave for the airport in a couple of hours, okay?’
Ah. That was the Kit Kat. Chelsea had said to him years before, maybe even on their first date, that she considered a Kit Kat an essential travel item. He’d made a joke about hoping he could be essential too. And whenever they travelled, he bought her the chocolate bar.
‘Do I get to know where we’re going then?’
‘I imagine you’ll figure it out pretty quickly once we get to the airport – let’s at least try to keep some of the magic, shall we?’ Kit arched a blond eyebrow, and Chelsea huffed.
‘You know –’
‘– that you hate surprises, you really dislike being out of control and that you’re going to bear it as best you can because you love me?’
Chelsea pursed her lip, said ‘Exactly’ and took a massive bite of her croissant so she didn’t have to seem like a selfish control freak.
The day was perfectly lovely, and Kit had spared no amount of thought or expense. He’d booked a town car to the airport, which felt as luxurious as it was unnecessary.
When they got to the airport he paused in front of the check in gates.
‘All right, so I assumed by this point you’d have to know so we could check in.’ Kit shrugged boyishly, his 6’4” frame somehow unsuited to it. ‘So I’ve given you some clues.’
‘Beyond what’s up on the departures board?’ Chelsea teased, getting into the game.
‘Well, if you want to sit here and guess for half an hour, but I thought you’d want to get through the gate to have a boozy lunch in the departures lounge.’
Chelsea’s eyes widened. ‘Okay, I’ll play.’
‘You’ve never been to this place before.’
That’s not hard, Chelsea thought to herself sadly, looking at the board. She’d been to Paris, Barcelona and Rome, all with Kit. She’d been to Iceland with a friend from uni, and LA for work. She was hardly well travelled.
‘I’m gonna need another clue.’
Kit grinned at her, apparently unaware of all the other travellers walking around them to look at the departures board. ‘The most romantic city on earth.’
‘Paris?’
‘It only thinks it’s the most romantic city.’
‘Well, thanks for correcting it,’ Chelsea rolled her eyes.
‘You said you wanted to go here almost two years ago when we were talking about bucket lists and you said that you’d never trust –’
‘– something that had a public transport system dependent on water.’ Chelsea looked up at him in amazement. ‘You remember that?’
‘I always remember those tidbits about your life,’ he replied.
‘We’re going to Venice?’ Chelsea whispered, a smiled already on her face and he nodded, grinning.
‘That’s amazing!’ she laughed, throwing her arms around him, breathing him in.
‘I thought you might say that!’
‘You, Mr Christopher…you’re just a bit wonderful you know.’
‘That’s the idea, Miss Donovan.’ Chelsea’s smile held, just a little tight at the mention of her surname as he kissed her softly. The only surname he’d ever known her with, the one she’d changed as soon as she left uni, ready for a new start separate from the father in and out of prison again and again.
She held him a little closer. ‘You really are too good for me, you know.’
It felt too intimate to be throwing around those truthful words in an airport terminal. The one time she’d expressed the exact fear, the exact love she felt.
‘Sweetheart, if you knew all the ways in which you’d saved me, you’d never even think of saying that.’ He swept a piece of hair back from her face. ‘Before you, I was an arsehole. As cheesy as it is, you’ve made me a better man.’
Chelsea snorted, raising an eyebrow. ‘Well, stop improving. I can’t imagine you being any more of an angel than you are now.’
‘Then let’s hurry up and get to that kingsize bed in the hotel on the Grand Canal so I can prove you wrong.’ His blue eyes gleamed and Chelsea grinned, kissing him.
‘Sorry bub, you’re always going to be a Prince Charming, no matter how much you want to play the bad boy. Some guys are just made that way.’
She took his hand and they walked through the terminal, him taking her bag from her without a word.
‘See?’
‘You want me to stop doing all the stuff I do automatically, because it’s too nice?’ Kit laughed, head tilted as he waited for
