Chapter Twenty-Three
Things began looking up very quickly after that, what with Dennis being discharged a couple of days later and the army of helpers that Janet had arranged arriving at all times of the day and evening to complete their allotted tasks. The pub was looking better than it had in years, the beer pumps shining, the carpets back to their original colour. The old place had also be Christmasified to within an inch of its life, and Robyn smiled widely every time she came downstairs and saw it in all its festive glory.
“Oh! I didn’t know we’d hired a chimney sweep,” she teased, as Matt pulled his head from the open fireplace in the main bar, his hair covered in soot.
“Fire’s been smoking, so I thought I’d have a go at cleaning the chimney a bit,” Matt said, lunging for her playfully.
“Eek! Keep your mucky hands off me!” Robyn squealed, deliberately backing away from the sheets he had laid out under him, now covered in dark dust and sooty cobwebs.
“Well, if my appearance is so offensive, maybe you can help me rectify it?” Matt said with the flirty tone he’d been using a lot lately, “Don’t want me letting the side down at the party tomorrow, do we?”
“Hmm, well, if a good hair wash is what’s needed to keep up the pub’s reputation, what with the rest of the place being spotless an’ all… I’ll see you upstairs when you’re finished!”
It was a dangerous promise, and she knew it, but Robyn giggled at the wide-eyed look Matt shot her, like a panda caught in the headlights what with his sooty face, before skipping upstairs to prepare the bathroom.
“So, what does Madame have planned?” Matt asked when he arrived fifteen minutes later. He’d at least washed his face and hands in the pub bathroom and already taken his dirty t-shirt off so as not to spread the mess everywhere, so really it was just his hair that needed attention.
“Well, I’ve put a towel on the floor here for you to sit on, then you can lean your head back over the rim of the bathtub, like at a sink at the hairdresser’s, and I’ll wash your hair with the jug,” Robyn brandished a plastic measuring jug from the kitchen, trying to focus on the practicalities and not the sight of his bare chest. The way he was looking at her, she knew she’d better get on with this quickly, or they’d both end up in the bath together, and there’d be nothing clean about it.
“Right here?” he asked as he settled himself into position, cross-legged on the floor, his back against the side of the tub, and his eyes dark and distracting.
“Umhm, and lean back, I’ve put a towel over the edge so it doesn’t dig into your neck. There we go, now I’ll just reach over you, and get this water I’ve already run into the bath… Oh! That’s not going to work,” Robyn paused, jug held aloft, as she realised her shorter stature wasn’t going to allow her to reach around him and down into the bathtub to scoop up the warm water.
“Hmm, that’s a thinker,” Matt said gruffly, taking her empty hand and moving it to his mouth.
Robyn could feel the heat of his breath as he kissed the back of her wrist and up her arm, dotting little kisses and starting little invisible fires all the way to her inner elbow. So distracted was she by this onslaught of feeling, that she didn’t notice she’d moved until she was halfway to sitting in Matt’s lap. With one leg either side him, she was a lot lower and closer to the water…
“Oh!” she said, hovering there, before making the quick decision to kneel either side of his hips. It would make the hair washing easier anyway, which surely was the purpose of the exercise. He was wearing jeans, she was fully dressed, what difference would it make?
Quite a lot, as it turned out.
Robyn leaned over Matt’s shoulder and scooped up the water, as he tipped his head back.
“Close your eyes,” she whispered.
As soon as he complied, she stole a quick kiss, intending to return quickly to the job at hand.
Following her lead, Matt had other plans, though, and held the nape of her neck gently as they deepened the embrace, the connection between their joined mouths hot and demanding.
When they eventually broke apart, Robyn realised that she must’ve tipped the jug at some point because half of Matt’s hair was wet along with her top all the way down to her chest. With the thin material sticking to her, she paused a moment to pull it over her head. Matt watched her movement with a hungry gaze before he began kissing her neck, his hands lost in her hair.
“Right! Er, more water needed then shampoo time,” Robyn moved from where she was now seated in his lap to resting on her knees once again. Matt let her move, but only with a small, pretend huff of resignation. To be honest, Robyn could’ve sat and kissed him like that all day, but they’d agreed to take things slow and this felt… very fast. She only had herself to blame, though, since this whole hair washing thing had been her idea in the first place.
What kind of sweet, sinful torture was this?
Matt laid back and closed his eyes as Robyn massaged his scalp slowly. He had bubbles running down his temples and was deliberately trying not to look at her bra-clad torso which would be right in his face if he angled his gaze forwards.
Never in his life had he felt like this, his body burning in too many places to focus on just one.
“Now the rinsing,” Robyn whispered, lowering herself back into his lap to reach the jug on the floor beside them.
Matt knew he could’ve just passed it up to her, and had the distinct sense she was enjoying this just as much as him. If he’d known what being in a non-platonic, intimate relationship with his best friend would feel like, he’d have plucked up the courage to bare his heart much sooner, because this felt amazing.
Robyn brushed the suds from his face with her fingertips, pausing to dot kisses as she went before her lips found his again. Matt splayed his hands on her back and held her close, revelling in the new sensations.
It felt like they were cocooned in a coconut-smelling bubble, until they were rudely interrupted by a hammering on the bathroom door.
“How long will the two of you be? Can’t a dying man have a wee in his own bathroom?”
“Um, could you use the bar toilets?” Robyn asked sheepishly, her face a pale shade of beetroot.
“Too soon, Dad, far too soon for jokes like that!” Matt couldn’t help but chuckle as the old man stomped off.
They shared a brief look of regretful embarrassment, before silently deciding that the damage was already done and returning to their previous occupation with relish.