Chapter 9 #2
Winding their way down the hill, with Tilldale nestling below them in the valley, with its cluster of cottages, the old stone church, tall trees, the country pub, and characterful stores, she realised this village – and one of its inhabitants – had already captured her heart.
‘It’s been a lovely day, thanks, Will,’ she said, as they reached the bridge that led them home.
‘Yeah, other than getting a soaking there at the end.’ He gave a grin.
In reality, that had all been part of the fun.
Cath glanced at the time on her dashboard; it wasn’t yet four p.m. She felt a tug in her stomach, loath to let the magic of the day end so soon.
‘Ahm, do you fancy a coffee? At mine? Come on in, and we can warm up and dry out.’ Why did that sound like a leading question?
Did she, in fact, mean it to sound like one?
‘Ah yeah, why not. That sounds good.’
Neither of them seemed in a hurry to part ways after their wonderful day.
So, coffee at Cheviot Cottage it was. Standing in her hallway, Will looked rather soggy, his coat damp, and his dark hair stuck out at odd angles.
And, she daren’t think what she might be looking like.
She took his wet coat and hung it over a door to dry, then said she’d fetch a couple of towels from the airing cupboard upstairs, taking a quick check in the bathroom mirror there.
Her hair had gone super-curly, but didn’t actually look too bad, so she merely towel-dried then tousled her fingers through it, wiped off the mascara smudges below her eyes, and quickly smoothed on a little lipstick to perk up her pale face.
She was soon heading back down the stairs offering Will a towel too.
A warm shower together might have been a better option, but despite her minxy thoughts, she wasn’t quite ready – or body-buffed enough – for any of those shenanigans. They could stay in her head for now. But hmm, Will in a shower … She’d happily keep that vision in her head for a while longer.
Still feeling the heat of her vision-inducing blush, they sat and chatted at the snug table and chairs at the far end of the galley kitchen, warming themselves with steaming mugs of hot coffee.
‘Well, I’m making an easy supper, some chicken tagliatelle. There’s plenty for two,’ she said leadingly. ‘I was going to freeze some of it, anyhow.’ She’d learned that batch cooking was the way to go as a single person. She was still making family-sized meals, and couldn’t seem to break that habit.
‘I was on a frozen pepperoni pizza tonight. All my culinary skills have been used up on the brunch. You’ve absolutely won me over with the prospect of homemade pasta. If you’re sure?’
‘Great, of course. Oh, I do have a tutorial at six, just for an hour, so if you don’t mind waiting until that’s done? You can stay and chill here, if you like. It’s fine.’
‘Ah right, well, if you’re okay with that.’ He seemed quite settled there in her kitchen. Perhaps the thought of going home, once again, to an empty house wasn’t an appealing one.
‘I’ll get you a glass of wine, if you’d like. Red okay? You can chill here and relax, or in the lounge, if you’d rather. I’ll be working upstairs.’
There was half a bottle of red left on the kitchen side from last night.
‘Thanks.’
This seemed very domesticated, very ‘coupley’. It felt like a glimpse, perhaps a promise, of how their future might be.
‘Right, well I’ll just head on up. I work from the spare bedroom.’ Why did the mere mention of a bedroom make her blush once again and feel a bit tingly, dammit?
She sped upstairs, and quickly changed out of her damp clothes.
She set up her laptop, and logged on ready for her Zoom tutorial call.
She greeted her student, Charlotte, and had a brief, friendly ‘how’s your week been?
’ chat, then deftly switched to the subject for tonight: algebraic equations and formulae.
Oh my, Will was downstairs in her living room, the thought kept thrumming through her mind.
She was finding it hard to concentrate. Right, focus.
She needed to stay professional for the sake of Charlotte, and her reputation as a teacher.
Think maths, think algebra, think about anything but Will.
What kind of equation did Cath and Will make, in fact?
Simultaneous, linear, rational … there was no bloody rational about it!
She’d never had these kinds of issues before.
She was a solid professional in her work.
But hey, Will hadn’t been sat there in her lounge, all damp sexy hair and filled with wantonness, waiting for her, before.
(She’d actually thrown that in for good measure; he was probably checking emails on his phone or something.)
She refocused and went through her worksheet, step by step, ensuring Charlotte was keeping pace with her; luckily she had planned the session yesterday.
And that helped her attention somewhat. But blimey, her teacher head was doing one thing, and the minxy monkey on her shoulder kept throwing in Will-based reminders.
Crumble kisses in the kitchen, for one. It was a relief when five to seven came, and she began to wrap up the session.
Cath said a cheerful, ‘Bye, see you next week’, hoping to goodness that Charlotte hadn’t spotted her several lapses in concentration.
When she finally got back downstairs, Will had lit the log burner. It flickered with warming red and orange flames.
‘Hi.’ Those dark, sensual eyes were trained on her. ‘Hope it was okay to light it, just felt a little chilly in here. I was feeling the cold, getting wet through like that.’
‘Ah yeah, that’s fine.’ She did in fact feel more than warm enough, but it would certainly make it cosy there after supper.
They headed back through to the kitchen, where Cath began assembling the ingredients for her pasta dish, glad of a little routine diversion. She was feeling the heat in more ways than one.
Will seemed keen to try out his newfound kitchen skills, so whilst she chopped the chicken, she gave him an onion to slice.
Working away beside him at the bench, she gave a sideways look and had to smile.
He made a very tasty sous-chef indeed. She proceeded to make the sauce, frying onions with crushed garlic and adding tomatoes, roasted peppers and herbs; Will watching her every move.
Stirring. Tasting. Adding a touch more seasoning.
It felt very sensual. A final taste test, straight from the wooden spoon, with all those bursts of flavour, rich and warming.
‘Ooh, can I have a try?’
‘Ah, yes, of course.’ She turned towards him, offering a spoonful, and as it passed his open lips, his eyes seemed to light up. ‘Mmm, that is delicious. So simple, just a few ingredients, but I love it.’
She dished out, and they took their pasta bowls and a board with some freshly cut bread and butter down to the galley-end table.
Chatting more easily now, with Will saying how he was taking to this cooking lark far better than he’d ever imagined.
The Italian-style meal went down well, even if it left Cath feeling a little queasy. Her nerves were way too wired.
After their dinner for two, they found themselves back in the living room, and on the sofa.
It wasn’t that big, a snug two-seater, so they were close, close enough to feel the warmth between them.
With the last of the red wine shared, some easy soul music from the Sixties playing, and the log burner aglow, the mood was relaxed and, yes, romantic.
Cath leaned in to rest her head on Will’s shoulder; it felt a natural thing to do.
They stayed like that, quietly for a while, both lost in their thoughts.
It had been such a lovely day, and she couldn’t help but want to get to know him more.
Despite her earlier misgivings, and their talk of taking things slow, she shifted to look up at him, then reached an arm to gently cup his head, drawing his face, his lips, down towards hers.
Her chest turned towards his. Her body yearned for this closeness.
And she moved in for the most tender, and slowly lingering of kisses.
A tease of pressure across his lips, then pressing closer, lips moving together.
Cath parted his lips, with the tip of her tongue, testing, tasting.
The newness of it all, so sensual. His response was gently insistent, the kiss growing deeper, their lips soon dancing with desire, spreading a molten warmth through her whole body. Her toes tingling. Oh my.
Where was this going? At this rate, somewhere pretty damned fast. His erection was firm now, as she shifted up kneeling over him, still fully clothed.
Sod her slightly prickly shins and mismatched underwear, she could shimmy out of her jeans in seconds.
Wow, who the heck was this new and wanton woman?
Don’t think, just do. This is your time, Cath. But oh, did they in fact need protection? She’d been without periods for over a year now … hmm.
And just as all that was buzzing in her mind, Will shot up straight, bringing her up with him, and out of her aroused quandary.
‘Oh God, I can’t do this. I thought I was ready, but I’m not. I’m so sorry, Cath.’ He was biting down on his lip, she guessed holding back tears, his hazel-brown eyes misty. ‘I really, really like you, Cath … but it feels so wrong.’ He puffed out a sigh.
‘It’s okay, it’s okay,’ she soothed, sensing the weight of his grief, whilst smothering her own feelings of disappointment. Surely it wasn’t wrong, trying to find some comfort, some love after all that hurt. ‘We can put that side of things on hold.’
Hey, she tried to cheer herself up with the thought that it’d give her chance to buff, depilate, exfoliate and perhaps even lose that extra pound or two that seemed to be happily set like an inner-tube ring around her waist. She could absolutely wait on that front. And Will was so worth waiting for.
But oh, as long as he didn’t mean he didn’t want to see her in a personal way at all.
That would be crushing. She felt a dull ache within just at the thought.
She already felt so attached to him. She knew he needed time, but couldn’t cope with the idea of just stopping what they’d finally begun.
‘We could still see each other, do the normal stuff, go for walks, cooking lessons.’ Was she clutching at straws here?
She couldn’t read those dark, soulful eyes as they gazed at her.
‘I need a little time …’ he said. Then, he looked away, out of the window, as he scratched at his temple.
Cath mentally kicked herself. Why had she pushed things physically?
The man was clearly struggling and she’d added to the pressure – not to mention put herself out there for further hurt.
Clearly the walls had gone back up, and whilst she’d love to talk things through, she sensed that now was not the time to probe the emotions that lay behind his need to withdraw.
He’d shut her down. He wasn’t ready to talk about it.
Seeming protective of his feelings, of his grief, avoiding any mention of his wife in their conversations, which Cath felt pretty sure was behind all this.
It was like whenever she was getting near to the real him, it was all too much.
But if he couldn’t open up, expose the part of him that held his grief and of course his love for Jane, could they ever truly get to know each other or have a proper relationship?
‘Okay.’ The word was meant to reassure Will, but Cath felt anything but okay.
She tried to settle her fears as she rested her head gently back against his chest, but he felt so very tense beneath her now.
She took a moment to breathe in the woody-fresh scent of him, the solid warmth of his body beneath her.
She had to, just in case it might be one of the last chances she’d have to do so.