Chapter Twenty-Eight
They landed once more with no more than a whisper of wheels and a hiss of air brakes and Scarlett opened the passenger door slowly and with reluctance. The weather was as if they’d landed on a different planet: blue sky, soft winds, almost with the smell of spring in the air. She inhaled the faint scent of ozone on the breeze ignoring the undertone of aviation fuel.
This was goodbye. Bittersweet indeed. Dylan muddied her emotions to a point where she couldn’t think straight but she wanted to hold on to the moment for as long as she could, wishing that she’d been more accommodating. As she turned to him, summoning up a goodbye smile, she was surprised to see the same reluctance mirroring his eyes. He’d picked up his guitar and rucksack but then dumped them both back on the seat wrinkling his nose, as if a thought had just struck him. ‘Do you think I could have a quick word with the captain?’
Scarlett frowned, but she nodded. ‘I’ll just check, but I imagine it will be fine.’ She was used to passengers wanting to pass on their thanks, or ask a question, but her heart was heavy as she pulled open the flight deck door to ask Pete if it was convenient. ‘He’s a friend, so I know he’s not a threat or anything,’ she added. The only thing he’d ever threatened was her tranquillity and her determination to stay single.
She moved to one side allowing Dylan through, but in the narrow confines of the galley his arm brushed her breast as he manoeuvred past her.
He flinched. ‘Sorry.’
‘It’s okay.’ She smiled wanly, unable to rise to the humour of it, upset that he felt it necessary to apologise for touching her.
As if he could read her thoughts, Dylan raised his hands in surrender. ‘Sorry, for saying sorry.’ He lowered his hands. ‘Oh, God, I’m just making it worse.’
‘It’s okay.’ She smiled up at him, and for a second it was as if the distance between them melted away.
They gazed at each other for a heartbeat before Dylan broke eye contact. ‘I’d better . . .’ He jerked his thumb in the direction of the flight deck.
‘Yes, the captain’s name is Pete, if you hadn’t gathered.’ Her smile was professional once again although her heart pounded unreasonably.
She made a show of tidying the cabin and putting away the provisions, wishing for once that she could eavesdrop as Dylan talked to the flight deck. She knew that, once he left the aircraft, she’d only ever see him through a TV screen, Dylan clearly having made a better job of moving forward with his life than she had.
The thought almost broke her, but she tightened her resolve as he returned from speaking with Pete, irritatingly upbeat, his captivating smile back in place. She’d be glad to see the back of that, too, mostly because it made her heart flutter too much.
‘Where’s your flight bag, Scarlett?’
‘In the cupboard. Why?’
Dylan pointed to the small stowage area. ‘Here?’ He opened the cupboard door. ‘Ah, yes, same bag. I remember it well.’ He hooked it out of the cupboard. ‘Coat? Oh, no, I remember, you were in a rush.’
‘What are you doing, Dylan?’
‘Just taking you somewhere for a chat. I’ve cleared it with your boss. He said you’ve been a miserable cow since you started, and anything that might cheer you up is fine with him.’
‘He did not!’
‘Go and check, then?’ He winked at her, still positively fizzing with cheerfulness.
She wanted to refuse, prolonging the agony was pointless, but a bigger part of her wanted to go along with him, irritating as he was.
Pete popped his head out of the flight-deck door. ‘We’re not needed tomorrow so we’ll be positioning back empty to London in about an hour. Give us a call if you don’t want a lift. It won’t be a problem.’ He winked at her and she wondered what on earth Dylan had said to him.
The tiny prefab that passed for a terminal building was a short walk away, and once they passed through it Scarlett was intrigued to see the lights of a BMW coupé flash when he pressed his key fob.
‘Here we are. No stretch limo here, no siree, absolutely not.’ Dylan slung Scarlett’s bag into the boot, along with his guitar, and opened the passenger door for her, before climbing into the driver’s seat. ‘Right, off we go.’ He flashed her a grin as he changed up through the gears and roared out of the airport and out to the country roads.
She settled into her seat, both confused and slightly peeved by his cocky manner. Glancing at him sidelong, she attempted to understand his motives. It was hard not to get sidetracked as she breathed in his familiar scent, appreciating his curls and his ever-so familiar profile. ‘This is a long way to go for a little chat, isn’t it?’
Frowning, he glanced at her briefly before concentrating on the road again. She smiled weakly, wondering what she’d said to upset him. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Scarlett. Can we call a truce, here?’ He took his hand off the steering wheel and offered it to her, but she didn’t take it, so he quickly folded his fingers around the gear stick. ‘Suit yourself.’ His tone was gruff, and he huffed out an exasperated breath.
She took in the long fingers, the square nails, the fine hairs on his hand. He glanced at her again, followed her gaze and offered his hand to her once more.
‘What’s going on, Dylan?’ She folded her arms to make sure she wasn’t tempted by the proffered hand. He’d told her he had a girlfriend, hadn’t he? It hurt her to even sit next to him, knowing he belonged to someone else, so why would she want to hold his hand?
She flicked her hair over her shoulder and stared out of the window.
Dylan sighed loudly, ‘It’ll keep a while longer.’ He concentrated on the road ahead.
When she glanced across again, his hand was back on the steering wheel.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked politely — the least she could do was remain civil.
‘Wait and see.’
His smile had all but disappeared, and she closed her eyes, wondering what he wanted from her. And what did call a truce mean,exactly?
As he drove quickly through the narrow, winding roads, Scarlett vaguely recognised a few village names that told her they were heading for Southwold. She didn’t know what Dylan’s agenda was, but she wasn’t in the mood to play his games, at least not until he stopped acting as if he had the upper hand in everything they did. Which was even more annoying, because he did have the upper hand, being in spiritual possession of her heart and actual possession of her body, which was in his car.
They managed a few polite words, until Dylan pulled up outside his parents’ house. Dylan, all hearty and gung-ho, climbed out, leaving Scarlett to sit in lonely solitude until he pulled open the passenger door. ‘Coming?’
With a sigh, she climbed from the car, slamming the door for effect before she stomped up the pathway to join him.
A golden Labrador bounded through the hallway as soon as Dylan opened the front door, and he caught the dog’s head in his hands as it licked him and bounced around. ‘Hey, Custard, how are you, girl?’
He pranced around with the dog for a while, and Scarlett again felt like an interloper: the spoilsport with a miserable face at a private party.
Dylan laughed as he dodged Custard’s chasing and head-butting frolics. ‘Look at her. Anyone would think I hadn’t seen her for days.’
‘When did you last see her, then?’
He put his head on one side. ‘Hmm, let me think. About eight hours ago.’
Scarlett frowned. ‘How can you have?’
Dylan didn’t answer as he stepped into the house. After putting food out for the dog, he picked up a key from the coat stand. ‘Let’s go. Mum will be home shortly and we’d be obliged to stay for a cup of tea, which would turn into staying for a glass of wine, which would then turn into staying for dinner. Don’t worry, you’ll meet her soon enough.’
‘I will?’ Scarlett’s confusion grew by the second. What was going on here?
He cut through her thoughts, all cheerful and encouraging. ‘Yeah, she’s looking forward to meeting you. I told her you were nice, which wasn’t a lie, so much, just a bit of a deviation from the truth.’ He waggled his head a bit to show the jury was out on that one.
‘But I can’t . . . it’s not right.’
‘Chill, she’s a schoolteacher. She understands badly behaved people.’
Her frown deepened, and he sighed. ‘Someone has to teach you how to be a trusting person.’ He shrugged. ‘I thought it might as well be her. I’ll just stick to teaching you how to love.’
She narrowed her eyes wondering whether to be affronted. ‘Thanks, I think,’ she said, it being the easiest option.
‘Right, I’m hoping the old pink fleece has been washed since the neighbour’s cat gave birth on it. We can take a walk down memory lane.’ Scarlett paled, and he grinned. ‘It was quite romantic last time we were here, wasn’t it? I seem to recall it was the first time we slept together.’ He pulled a sad face. ‘Oh, and I think it was the last time, too.’ He tilted his head to one side. ‘So far, anyway.’
His persistent perkiness was exhausting and Scarlett’s tiredness and irritation was winning hands down over his animated enthusiasm. She sighed wearily. ‘You’ve lost me, Dylan.’
‘Oh? It was one of those nights I thought you’d remember, but hey ho, just me taking a trip down memory lane, then,’ he continued cheerfully.
‘Okay, Dylan, I admit I was rash and unfair on you. Can you give it a rest now, please? I’m a bit knackered to be honest.’ She pinched the bridge of her nose, acknowledging a low-level headache brewing across her forehead.
‘Let’s take a walk, then. The fleece?’ He held out his mother’s jacket, and she took it from Dylan.
Scrunching it up, she held it to her cheek, as memories washed over her. She felt perilously close to tears.
‘Not sure you’ll want to wear it, if it holds distasteful memories.’ His smile was wry, gently teasing. ‘Don’t worry, Tiddles the cat hasn’t really given birth on it.’
Scarlett felt her mouth wobble. She wasn’t sure how much more of Dylan’s banter she could take.
As if he sensed she was at the end of her tether, his voice softened. ‘Would you like to freshen up first? We can go to my house.’ He held out a hand.
‘You have a house?’
‘I do, and I’d love you to see it.’
‘Okay.’ She took his hand gratefully as if it were an olive branch of friendship. ‘If madam would like to come with me?’
He tucked her fingers into the crook of his elbow and they walked together, close enough to bump hips but still metaphorically miles apart.
They walked down the hill, and Dylan stopped in front of a detached house that looked as if it had recently been re-vamped: all slanting glass, stainless steel, and exposed brick. ‘What do you think?’
‘This is yours?’
‘Yup. Wanna take a look?’
‘Oh, my God, it’s beautiful.’
‘I know, I love it.’ A grin spread across his face. ‘I spend as much time here as I can — I’m determined not to fall prey to the tempting sins of the flesh, or any of those other addictions you warned me about so many times.’
She grimaced. ‘Was I that bad?’
‘You did go on a bit, but I suppose you had your reasons.’ He motioned for her to walk ahead of him up the pathway.
Remembering the feisty girlfriend he’d mentioned, she hesitated. ‘I won’t be treading on anyone’s toes, will I?’ She would happily step on every one of the woman’s toes, if it would bring Dylan back to her, but thought it best not to tell him.
‘Nope.’
That certainly sounded rather definite and final, although Scarlett was pretty sure the feisty girlfriend would have something to say about that, especially when she found out that Dylan had shown an ex-girlfriend around his new home.
Dylan turned the key in the lock and ushered her in. She took in the huge hallway and lantern light ceiling, winter white sunlight flooding in, stunned that Dylan owned something so spectacular. An open-plan kitchen, shining with glinting state-of-the-art gadgets, was built into on one side of the house, with the longest run of windows she’d ever seen on the other, overlooking the sea.
She whirled around, taking in the expanse of space, her arms flung wide, not knowing what to look at first. ‘This is the most fantastic place, ever.’
‘I know.’ He smiled as he watched her taking it all in. ‘There’s a wonderful view from the roof. Would you like to see it? It’s even better at night, snuggling down with a blanket and a glass of wine.’ His eyes crinkled at the corners as he folded his arms, as if enjoying her enthusiasm.
She smiled back, breathing out as their eyes locked. Was he suggesting what she thought he was suggesting — recreating the past?
She hesitated, almost too afraid to ask the question. ‘Would you . . . like me to see the view?’
His soft smile widened and his arrogant attitude melted away, leaving behind the old Dylan she knew, gently mocking, yet completely sincere. ‘I would very much like you to see the roof view. It’s up on the roof of course, or else I wouldn’t call it the roof view.’ He took a step forward and then another one, until he was inches away from her, his eyes searching. His fingers brushed her cheek. ‘Love the uniform, by the way. Incidentally, what was that performance all about on the aircraft?’
Scarlett sensed her cheeks beginning to glow, but tried to brazen it out. ‘What performance?’
‘All that sashaying around and boob thrusting. Was it for me, or were you competing with Natasha, in some weird girl way?’
‘I don’t know what you mean?’ She giggled nervously.
He rolled his eyes. ‘What, do I look stupid?’
She shrugged. ‘I was mad at you, and I wanted you to know what you were missing.’
‘Loved it. Can we have a rerun later, please?’ Dylan’s grin didn’t fade.
‘Is that every man’s secret fantasy — a woman in uniform?’
‘Absolutely. What’s the point in going out with a beautiful hostie, if I can’t have my very own fantasy played out?’
Confusion swamped Scarlett all over again at his words. Had he just suggested they get back together, or had he, by some terrible coincidence, met another stewardess on his travels? She was hardly going to ask him and risk being ridiculed all over again.
She watched indecisively as he pulled a bottle from the fridge and reached for two glasses from a cupboard.
‘After you.’ He waved in the direction of a set of wooden stairs, and she climbed up in front of him, aware that he was probably clocking her behind again in her tight skirt. Unable to help herself, she wiggled just a little bit, throwing him a cheeky smile.
Reaching the top of the stairs, all thoughts of impressing him with her rear vanished, as a vast swathe of blue sky and sea greeted her. She took it all in: the spectacular scenery, visible from every angle, even the tops of the houses on the high street were on view. ‘This is paradise, Dylan.’
‘The roof terrace was the main reason I bought it.’ His smile was wide as he leaned over the balcony rail.
For a few long moments Scarlett watched the people below and the boats in the distance, her mind hanging. She loved the view, loved Dylan’s house, loved Dylan, in fact — but why was he doing this to her? He wasn’t a mean person. A tiny vestige of hope began to burn in a corner of her mind but she didn’t dare voice it. So she waited.
Finally, Dylan sat down and beckoned her over, and she took a seat next to him, her nerves jangling.
He poured out two glasses of sparkling wine, allowing the bubbles a moment to settle before topping up each glass, and passed one over to her. She took it with trembling fingers.
‘Cristal, of course.’ He inclined his head.
‘Of course.’ She raised her glass and took a sip. Dylan followed suit. ‘Here’s to us.’
Scarlett inclined her head. ‘There’s an us?’
‘I hope so.’ He put his glass down. ‘I took on board all of that stuff you said about drinking and drugs, and I decided not to drink alcohol unless you were with me. But actually it took far too long to find you and I was pretty desperate for a drink, so I figured I’d better hurry up.’ He nodded. ‘It took a huge amount of time to track you down. Harder than bloody truffles without a pig to find you.’ His lips twitched into a smile and his eyes sparkled.
‘And you needing a drink was the only reason you tried to find me?’
‘Yes, absolutely.’ His smile broadened as he raised his glass and took a sip. ‘Cheers. I’ve been waiting a long time for this.’
She frowned. ‘Howdidyoufind me?’
Dylan placed his glass down and faced Scarlett. ‘Interesting story — and being as you have all the time in the world, it won’t hurt you to listen.’ The smug grin was back but this time she quite liked his cockiness.
‘As I said, I ran the risk of turning teetotal by default if I didn’t get a move one so I hung around the park trying not to look like a creep waiting until your sister came by with that delightful little daughter of hers and that rather slobbery dog.’
‘She didn’t tell me she’d seen you.’
‘I asked her not to, in case you did a runner again, but she did happen to mention that you missed me desperately and regretted storming off.’
‘So, that was why you were so damned smug on the aircraft, you thought I was a dead cert.’ Scarlett couldn’t help but smile at her lovely sister giving the game away. ‘I’ll kill her!’ she added without conviction.
‘That, and the fact that I’m pretty wonderful and only a fool would turn me down.’
‘Don’t get cocky on me again, Dylan Willis.’
Dylan reached over to Scarlett and took hold of her hand, his thumb rubbing across the back of it. ‘So, what do you think? I’m so sorry for being a tosser over the Harrison giving me a leg up thing.’
‘That’s okay. It’s been okay for ages, really, I just let my stupid pride get in the way. I was never sure why you were so cross about it, though.’
Dylan squeezed her hand. ‘It’s a me thing. I wanted to be seen to be able to succeed on my own merit. I nearly gave up a couple of times, though; it can be the loneliest job in the world.’ He drew in a breath. ‘So many little milestones, and huge ones that I wanted to share with you. I need you to keep rooting for me and telling me how great I am.’
Scarlett laughed. ‘You want me to lie, after everything we’ve been through?’
‘Yes, absolutely!’
Scarlett laughed. ‘And to tell you how great you are?’
‘On a daily basis.’
Scarlett laughed again.
‘What? I am great, aren’t I?’ He frowned, as if he didn’t understand her problem.
Scarlett raised her eyebrows but sighing, said, ‘I suppose you are reasonably great. A little bit, maybe.’
‘Thank God you agree with me,’ Dylan said. ‘That lonely in a crowded room thing was starting to get to me. So many faces and not one real friend amongst them. Celebrating an achievement on my own, in the quiet of an empty room in a posh hotel, is more depressing than having nothing to celebrate.’ Dylan paused, his eyes piercing. ‘Can we put all of this behind us?’
Scarlett was choked by his words. He’d been lonely, too, while she’d been missing him. ‘I’d like that more than anything,’ she said, her throat constricting.
‘Don’t cry.’ He swung off his chair and knelt beside her, taking her hands in his.
‘I’m not.’ Dylan wiped her cheek and held up his damp finger, showing the evidence. ‘I’ve not been sleeping well. I’m really tired.’
‘Ooh, what a feeder line.’ He stood up and took a step backwards. ‘And I’m supposed to ask you if you’d like to go to bed, am I?’ He put his hand on his hip, hamming it up.
Laughter bubbled up through her tears. She wiped her nose and cheeks, trying out a smile. Holding out her hand, her voice small, she said, ‘Yes, please.’
‘Come here, you silly thing.’
He gathered her into his arms, and she sniffled into his shirt, silently thanking the heavens and stars for this chance to make everything right.
Dylan smoothed her hair away from her cheek. ‘You look done in, so I think a repeat of the rooftop experience can wait until the weather is a bit kinder. Would you like a little nap? I can show you the bedrooms.’ His smile was enough to rejuvenate her, all of her weariness dissolving.
‘I don’t feel quite so tired now,’ she said.
‘Aha! So,itwasjusta ruse to getinto my bed?’
‘No, I can just as easily . . .’
He silenced her with a kiss, one that held promise of more, but he pulled back before it could go any further. ‘Why do you make everything so hard for yourself? Just give yourself a break and quit while you’re ahead, okay?’
She nodded once more, relaxing into his arms, remembering how wonderful it was to be kissed by him.
Eventually, Dylan drew away. ‘How about we both have a little lie down? I’m pretty tired, too. I was up at five.’
‘I thought famous people like you would have a stand in for the little inconveniences of life, like getting up early. You know, like Putin, lots of spares to do the grunt work.’ She stared up at him through her spiky, tear-drenched eyelashes.
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. It would be impossible to replicate me.’ He grinned again. ‘But as it happened this was something I had to do on my own. I had to drive up to Liverpool to hire an aircraft, which literally cost me my whole fortune, just to have the most beautiful air stewardess I have ever seen, bring me back home again.’
Scarlett’s mouth dropped open in shock as she took in his words. ‘What? You never did. Wait, you did that for me?’
He nodded meekly.
‘I can’t believe it. You’re madder than Stanley.’
‘Once I’d found out where you were, I wasn’t going to lose you again. Although, to be fair, my PA did most of the sorting out. She’s so scary no one dared to refuse any of her demands. She flew up to Liverpool yesterday to make sure you were on the flight.’
‘So I have you and Natasha to thank for my early morning call out. ‘And,’ she paused for clarification. ‘Natasha is just your PA, right? So, the feisty girlfriend is?’
‘You. Sorry.’ He grinned.
She smiled in relief, although she’d suspected as much. Dylan was not the kind of man to cheat on anyone. ‘Do you know, I wondered why you didn’t have any baggage. I reckoned you were just a busker boy at heart and probably stuffed a spare pair of boxers and socks in your rucksack; good to go.’ She gazed at him as the enormity of what he’d done sank in. ‘Oh, Dylan, that’s the most romantic thing ever.’ She welled up once more and swiped at her eyes.
‘Blimey, this being tired business certainly does get to you, doesn’t it? Come on.’ He took her hand and led her back down the stairs and into his bedroom, another vast space with the most amazing view of the sea.
She sat on the bed as tiredness overcame her. It felt more inviting than the fluffiest cloud and she had to resist the urge to just flop down on the duvet and rest her eyes. But she wanted to be in Dylan’s arms, wanted him to make love to her. She needed to feel that none of it was a dream.
Dylan poked his head around the door. ‘I’ll fetch your bag out of the car. Don’t go away.’
‘I won’t.’ She stretched and took off her jacket and skirt. Then she took off her blouse, enjoying the freedom from its confines. She scanned the room, spotted a t-shirt thrown over a chair and slipped it over her head, inhaling the delicious scent of Dylan.
Laying back on the bed, she couldn’t resist throwing back the duvet and crawling beneath it. She was so tired. If she could just close her eyes for a moment . . . brush her teeth . . . maybe have a shower when Dylan came back with her bag.
* * *
Dylan found Scarlett fast asleep when he returned. He’d nipped to his mum’s house to tell her that Scarlett was staying, in case she thought it prudent to turn up with a casserole, or one of the many little treats she was forever bringing him. He knew she worried about him, but he had Scarlett back where she belonged, so hopefully, she’d never have to worry again.
Initially, he was a little bit put out to find Scarlett out for the count in his bed, like Sleeping Beauty, when he’d envisaged a passionate reunion. However, watching her eyelids flicker as she breathed steadily, knowing that she trusted him to keep her safe while she slept made him swell with love for her.
He smiled at his overly-large t-shirt on her slim body. He could wait. He was just happy that she was safely in his bed.
Overcome with tiredness himself, he shucked off his boots and socks, enjoying the sensation of air and freedom. He wiggled his toes, looking longingly at the shower room adjacent to his bedroom, but it would be too noisy, and he didn’t want to wake Scarlett.
Instead, he crept over to the bed and eased himself next to her. He wouldn’t presume anything, but he didn’t think she’d mind if he simply held her in his arms. He folded her into his body, and she murmured and snuggled into him. Her hair was soft and fragrant next to his cheek, and he breathed in the scent that was his Scarlett. He’d missed it for too long.
His body, tired as it was, responded to the proximity of her warm femininity, and all he could think about was making love to her. He had to dredge up chord changes and song lyrics to take his mind away from images of her pliant body responding to his caresses.
God, it was difficult. He eased himself away from her before his desire became too bothersome and, kissing her cheek, allowed his own eyes to close.