The Toast of the Town (Fox & Oakby Murder Mysteries Book III)

Benefits and Cravings

"Darling," the Mayor murmured and rubbed his nose to Imogen's bare shoulder, "would you like me to drive you to your elevenses?"

Imogen snorted and gave the man a cheeky look.

"You're so posh," she teased and quickly kissed his lips. "I'm just visiting a fellow artist."

"But you're invited to come at eleven," the Mayor said, his eyebrows jumping up in charming innocent confusion. "And I'm sure tea will be offered. That makes it elevenses."

Imogen gave him an affectionate look. She simply adored the man in the morning - or any other time of day, really - but this dishevelled, cosy look became him so much. It seemed like such an indulgence to Imogen, even after all these months of living together, to have unrestricted access to John Thomas Crispin Oakby, in the comfort of her favourite sheets, on their massive bed. She'd woken up before him this morning, and proceeded to gently scratch him behind his ear to offer him to wake up as well. Her offer had been accepted eagerly, the man wrapped around her and rolled her under him. It had been two hours ago, and now they were resting after their lovely morning 'exercise.' Imogen yawned and considered going back to sleep, but there were already noises in the lounge of their little cottage, which meant the children were up. She needed to leave her lovely 'nest' to make sure there was no fire caused by the kettle forgotten on the hob, and no Nutella sarnies were dropped on the sofa in the lounge.

"I'm a bit nervous," Imogen admitted and snuggled into the Mayor's side. Just a few minutes in the man's arms couldn't harm. More so, the mayoral hugs always had the most beneficial influence on Imogen's mental state. "Firstly, I'm such a big fan of Fiona Holyoake. It's like meeting a celebrity! And secondly, I'm just a little bit embarrassed. What if they think I'm trying to weasel my way into the Holyoake family since I'm related to her sister-in-law?"

"No one would assume that about you, darling." The Mayor gently picked up her chin with his long index finger and lifted her face to meet her eyes. "Your decency is well-known in Fleckney."

Imogen giggled. "No, it's not! I'm the Mayor's doxy. I'm clearly a gold-digger and a social ladder climber. Oh, I've recently found a clever word in one of my romance books by Emily Green! I am a parvenu," she drew out dramatically and batted her lashes at the Mayor.

He chuckled, and Imogen stuck her tongue at him.

"Darling, you know as well as I do that the most... challenging person in that family would be Rhys Holyoake, and you two work perfectly well together," the Mayor reminded Imogen.

"I like working with him," Imogen said with a shrug. "His paperwork is always in order, and he's generous with his time and resources when it comes to volunteering at the festivities."

"I went to school with his younger cousin, Oliver," the Mayor said, settling lower in the pillows and yawning as well. "If Dr. Holyoake is right about your family connections, that will make Oliver your cousin-in-law actually. And Frederic Holyoake as well, to think of it. I mean, Will," he corrected himself. "When we were growing up, everyone called him Frederic, but I assume he shares my sentiment on having a family name that one doesn't associate with."

"I haven't thought of it," Imogen exhaled and pressed her hand to her forehead. "I might be Will Holyoake's cousin-in-law, and I'm invited for elevenses to his house today!"

"At least it's not the second breakfast," the Mayor joked.

A few months ago, their little family established a bedtime ritual, which involved the Mayor reading a book to the children after they brushed their teeth and were tucked in their beds in their pyjamas. Recently, they'd been reading The Hobbit. Imogen made sure to never miss that part of their evening. She would sit down on the carpet between the children's beds, set her chin on her knees, and listened to the man's velvet voice, feeling completely and utterly content.