She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Did you have something specific in mind, Mr. Hudson?”

He whispered in her ear. She let out that explosive giggle again, right before he kissed her.

Chapter Thirteen

Vivian woke up on New Year’s Eve and held back a sigh. It felt like Sunday night and the last night of summer vacation, all rolled into one. The next day, she would fly back to California, and this surprising, magical, unprecedented interlude would be over. She would be back to everyday Vivian, the one who didn’t get to wander around a city on a whim, the one who didn’t go to museums often, even when they interested her, the one who didn’t go out with men very much, even though she wanted to.

She opened her eyes and looked at Malcolm. He was still sound asleep. She wanted to reach out and trace the smile lines around his mouth, and his slightly pouty bottom lip, but he looked so peaceful she didn’t want to wake him up.

She was going to miss him. Yes, she would miss the England Vivian, who was carefree and had decided not to worry about her new job until she got home, who thought about having fun and not what was prudent or checked all the right boxes, who made snap decisions instead of weighing pros and cons. But she would also really miss Malcolm. She’d clicked with him in a way she hadn’t clicked with anyone in years—not just romantically, but as a person. They laughed at the same things, they cared about the same things, and when they had a conflict, one or the other of them would give the other a metaphorical shake, and they’d figure it out. How had they managed to figure out how to fight well together in less than two weeks?

She shook her head, and a sigh finally escaped her. His eyes immediately popped open, and she laughed.

“I thought you were still asleep,” she said.

He put an arm around her and pulled her close. She leaned her head against his shoulder. They even agreed on the correct way to sleep—with just enough space between the two of them so they could sense the other one was there, but never enough to touch during the night. She loved being held by him and the way he touched her, and she was so glad he never did it while she was trying to sleep.

“What do you want to do today, on our last full day?” he asked.

She looked over at him—and marveled that his face was already so familiar to her. The creases around his lips when he smiled, those tiny freckles along his cheekbones, the cleft in his chin, the gray hairs in his morning stubble.

“I just want to spend time with you,” she said.

His smile dazzled her.

“That’s exactly what I want to do, too.” He pursed his lips together, then held up a finger. “I have a tiny surprise in store for later, but if you want to know what it is . . .”

She laughed. Of course he had.

“Your first surprise was so good that now I have no choice but to say yes. You know that, right?”

He brushed his finger against her cheek.

“That’s so kind of you to say, but really, I’m happy to tell you if you want.”

She shook her head. She had no idea what had gotten into her during this trip, but now she was actually looking forward to his surprise.

“Nope. As long as it’s not going to some huge New Year’s Eve party, or standing outside to watch the London equivalent of the ball dropping, I’m okay.”

He shuddered.

“I promise you, it’s definitely neither of those things, nor anything like them, as a matter of fact.”

She smiled and kissed his cheek.

“Perfect.”

He bent down to kiss her, and she pulled him closer.

“Mmm, just one question,” she said after a few minutes. “Just so I’m clear—is this your surprise?”

He ran his hand down her body and sucked her bottom lip into his mouth before answering. As it happened, when he did that, she no longer cared what his response might be.

“This is just the first thing on the agenda,” he finally said. “Well, it might be the fourth thing, too, and possibly the eighth thing, and definitely the last thing, but not the only thing.”

She laughed and kissed his shoulder.

“Like I said, whatever your plan is, I’m in.”

Malcolm went into the kitchen while Vivian finished getting dressed. He couldn’t wipe the smile from his face when he thought of what they’d already done that morning, and of spending the whole day with her today.

And tomorrow, she would leave. That thought gave him a lump in the pit of his stomach. No, he couldn’t think about that right now; he was going to concentrate on today. He turned over the bacon in the pan and poured out their coffee, just as Vivian came out of the bedroom.

“I made us a quick breakfast,” he said. “Just toast and coffee and bacon, but don’t worry, I have good ideas for food for later.”

She picked up her coffee cup and grinned over it at him.

“I wasn’t worried,” she said. She sat down at the table and took a sip of coffee.

He brought the food and his coffee over to the table and joined her.

“Traffic and parking are going to be a nightmare today, so I thought we’d take the tube everywhere.”

She took a bite of toast and nodded.

“Do you know what I haven’t done yet . . . ?” She shook her head and trailed off. “No, never mind, there’s a lot I haven’t done yet, and I only have one more day, so it doesn’t matter.”

He put his coffee cup down.

“What if you told me anyway, though?” This was slightly dangerous; suppose she brought up going to Windsor or Wimbledon or somewhere else that would take the whole day? But he still had to ask.

She looked up at him, a sheepish smile on her face.

“I haven’t ridden on the top of one of those red buses. I know, it’s so dorky, but I’ve seen pictures of them my whole life, and Maddie and I were going to do it, but we ran out of time . . .”

Now this, he could manage.

“That’s easy. And I haven’t done that in a while, either. It’ll be a treat for me, too.”

The smile that spread across her face made him so happy, he knew he would have said yes, no matter what she’d asked for.

Thirty minutes later, they were on the upper deck of a bus, with very few other people.

Vivian looked around and grinned as they trundled through London.

“I still can’t believe these are just the normal way people get around this city. They’re so cool.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket. “I don’t care if it makes us look like tourists; I’m going to make you take a selfie with me.”

He groaned, but he couldn’t keep the smile from his face.

“If we must. It is your last day, after all.”

She handed him her phone.

“Your arms are longer. You take it.”

He put his arm around her shoulders and angled the camera to get some of London going by in the background. They both smiled into the phone for the photo, then—maybe because he’d been overcome by sentiment when he’d said, “last day,” he took her by surprise and kissed her on the cheek. She let out a giggle just as he took the picture.

“There.” He handed the phone back to her. “Are you happy?”

She nodded.