Chapter 16
I am reluctant to leave Rose behind, but cannot think of a valid reason to object – other than “cos I don’t wanna!”, which isn’t very mature.
I would be happier if she was coming back with me, but also realise that my happiness is not top priority right now. Lyssa is still unsettled, Eleanor even more so, and Rose wants to help. I admire the fact that she does, and remind myself that I have raised a very fine sixteen-year-old daughter – one who deserves to have her opinions heard.
We leave the camp after several rounds of hugs, heartfelt thanks, and a few unshed tears. I am confident that they will all be well looked after, but it still feels strange, leaving them behind.
Josh obviously feels it too, as we climb back into the minibus and drive out into the evening.
“It’s too quiet, isn’t it?” he says, gesturing to the back of the bus. “Without them?”
“Yeah. It’s weird. I’m worried I might fall asleep without all their arguing.”
He nods, and rubs his eyes with his knuckles. I realise that he must be even more exhausted – he’s been the one at the wheel all day.
“Do you fancy stopping off by the lake for a drink?” he asks, turning the bus back onto the main road. “I know we’ve had lots of breaks, but they’ve all involved Happy Meals or Eleanor puking or the ever-present threat of twin-a-geddon. Before we settle in for the long haul, I wouldn’t mind just sitting somewhere quiet with a grown-up and decompressing.”
“Well, I can’t offer you a grown-up – just me – but if you want to call off somewhere, that’s okay. You’re doing all the hard work, so anything you want is fine by me.”
He raises his eyebrows, and gives me a quick sideways glance that makes me laugh.
“Anything?” he says.
“Stop it!” I reply, shaking my head. “I told you I was impossible to flirt with. Eyes on the road!”
He does as he’s told, and I get my phone and start looking for somewhere nice – and grown-up – for us to stop at. I actually completely understand what he means – travelling with children is sometimes fun, sometimes excruciating, and often both at the same time. It is rarely, however, relaxing.
Plus, I am starting to realise, being around Lyssa in her current state of anxiety has had an effect on me as well.
Since the first phone call she made to us, at Ella’s wedding a lifetime ago, until now, I have been focused purely on getting her and the kids to safety. Now I have, I feel relieved, and deflated, and also keenly aware of how many sharp edges still exist in my own psyche when it comes to Robert. That troubles me, the suspicion that my wellbeing is dependent on distance, and not on actual healing – and the underlying concern that by helping Lyssa, I have somehow invited him back into my life.
I know it was the right thing to do – and I would not change it – but I also now have the faint flutter of “what if…” lurking in my mind. Am I over what happened to me? Are you ever “over” something like that, or is it all relative?
I am better than I was, I tell myself. I have built a life for myself and my daughter that he does not own. That will have to do for now, but I can feel a little worm of worry working its way under my skin.
All things considered, a quiet drink in a beautiful place with a pleasant companion might be exactly what I need as well.
I find a hotel with a bar that overlooks the southern tip of Windermere, about forty minutes’ drive away, and direct Josh towards it. It turns out to be even nicer than it looked on its website – one of those charming old Victorian buildings, all bay windows and turrets and weather vanes. Even the chimneys are quirky. It’s set in beautiful, landscaped gardens, with a terrace that overlooks the lake itself.
Within minutes we are settled outside, drinks and a cheese and crackers sharing board ordered. We arrange our seats side by side, so we can watch the sunset over the water. It is a spectacular sight – we are facing west, and the whole sky is streaked with shades of orange and lilac and bright pink as the sun slides down into the horizon. It’s like an abstract canvas, hanging in a breath-takingly beautiful gallery.
The temperature has dipped slightly, and when the waitress brings out our drinks, she also drops off fleecy blankets that we drape across our knees. I sip my wine, and listen to the last birdsong of the day, and am soothed by the gentle sound of the water lapping the lakeshore. The fiery sky starts to fade, reds and yellows being chased away by shades of blue and purple, deep streaks of vivid violet criss-crossing the air.
“Wow,” says Josh, looking on in wonder. “I think that’s the most spectacular sunset I’ve ever seen. How can there be so many colours in one sky?”
“I know,” I murmur, smiling as lights sparkle into life around the garden. “It’s kind of magical. It’s a shame we have to leave.”
As I sit and gaze at the view, I start to wonder if we do have to leave. This is a hotel. They might have rooms. It wouldn’t need to mean anything – we could get separate rooms, or a twin. It wouldn’t be the start of a romance, or significant in any way at all. But it would mean that neither of us has to face the long drive home when we’re already exhausted.
I glance at Josh’s profile, at lips that are curved into a smile as he watches nature’s light show. At the broad shoulders, the chest that I’ve never quite forgotten seeing bare and wet. At long fingers, curled around his glass.
Who am I kidding? I don’t just want a bed for the night – I want him for the night. I want to switch off from the complications of the world. I want to forget all my worries. I want to completely lose myself, and all my instincts tell me that if I were to reach out to Josh, he could make that happen.
It is reckless, and probably foolish, and like nothing I have considered doing for a very long time – but something about this man calls to me in such a special way. It’s not just the way he looks, or the way my skin seems to fizz every time we accidentally touch. It’s not just the way he persists on flirting with me, or the sexy half-smile that suggests a million delicious possibilities and makes me melt every time.
It’s also his humour, and how he makes me laugh. His honesty, his kindness, the way he makes me relax in his company. His plain, simple goodness – I am not afraid of Josh, and that feels like a miracle.
“Why are you staring at me?” he says, turning around and catching me in the act.
“I was just thinking…”
“Careful, you might injure yourself.”
“Ha ha. I was just thinking… maybe we don’t have to leave? Maybe we can stay here for the night, and set off early instead?”
He tilts his head slightly to one side, and his expression becomes serious, those gold-flecked eyes intense. I meet his gaze, and he says: “That’s a good idea. But for the sake of clarity, and not to be a presumptuous ass, are we talking two rooms or one? No pressure either way.”
“Really?” I say, laughing. “No pressure at all? I’m disappointed now!”
“Hey – you’re the one who keeps saying you’re impossible to flirt with; I was just being polite! Let me be very clear – I would like to spend the night with you. That would be something I would be very interested in. I’d have suggested it myself, but I got the impression it was completely off the table.”
“It probably should be,” I reply, smiling and reaching out to hold his hand. “And it’s probably a mistake. And I’m entirely possibly using you. It doesn’t make sense – but I want it. I want you. Very much.”
He strokes the sensitive skin of my palm with his fingertips, and I feel a rush of need. Of desire. Of rightness.
“Okay,” he says, disentangling from me and standing up. “I’m going to see about a room, and I’m going to take my time – call it a cooling off period, in case you change your mind. I realise I looked insanely hot and macho on that assault course, and that your thinking may still be clouded. Back soon.”
I lean back in my chair, and stare out at the lake, grinning. The skies here are clear, and the reflection of the stars shimmers in the flat, dark mirror of the water. It is stunning, and it makes my heart sing. I finish my wine, and abandon the sharing board, and rise to my feet with the blanket wrapped around my shoulders, my backpack dangling from my fingers.
I make my way across the terrace and through the gardens, entering the foyer of the building just as Josh is leaving it. I spot a key in his hand and smile – it would have been quite amusing if they’d been fully booked after all. A night of passion on a minibus just wouldn’t have been the same.
“I don’t need a cooling off period,” I say, taking his hand. “In fact, I’d prefer a warming up period.”
He gives me the lop-sided grin, and leads me along a plushly carpeted corridor, and up a grand staircase with a mahogany banister.
“They had a cancellation,” he says, as he opens the door. “I almost kissed the receptionist. I don’t think he’d have liked it.”
I follow him through into a large room with a huge bay window looking out over the lake. The furniture is dark wood and antique, the whole room dominated by an actual four-poster bed done up in red and gold linens. The pillows have tassels on the corners, and the whole effect is very posh.
I lay down my bag, and turn back to Josh. I feel a sudden rush of nerves – it has been so long since I have been in a situation like this. So long since I have been kissed, or held, or allowed myself to be naked and vulnerable with another human being. What if I’ve forgotten what to do? What if I disappoint him? What if I’m not what he expected? What if he thinks I’m gross? What if I freak out?
Something must show in my face, and he smiles as he slowly closes the distance between us, edging me back until I am leaning against one of the bed posts. He rests his hands lightly on my waist and kisses me very gently on the lips. He is deliciously close, but I can tell he is holding back.
“Are you sure?” he asks, as I feel his body skim mine.
“I am,” I say, pulling him closer, relishing the sensations of his hips and thighs crushing into me. I rock myself against him, feel a rush of sensation. I don’t think I’ll be capable of lucid speech for much longer, so I say: “I am sure, but in the spirit of honesty, I’m not looking for more than this, Josh, I’m too messy still. This is just one night.”
“Well, we’d better make the most of it then,” he says, placing one palm on my cheek, the other on the side of my neck. I feel his fingers snake up into my hair as he guides my face upwards, and gasp as I see a look of such need, such desire, in his eyes. That look, that touch, that voice – it makes me feel like a goddess, and all my petty worries drain away.
My hands grasp his arms, run up over the hard muscle of his biceps to settle on his shoulders, tugging him ever closer, melding myself into him, melting against his body.
The kiss starts as a spark, and ends as a volcano – the gentle touch of lips igniting a wildfire of want, of exploration, of delight. I feel my knees physically buckle as it intensifies, a thousand butterflies roaming my body, filling me with longing and leaving me breathless. I cling on to him, and he wraps his arms around me, and together we fall down onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and fingers and lips, and suddenly way too many clothes.
He looms above me, and I know that he is still taking it slow, letting me adjust. I slip my hands beneath the fabric of his T-shirt, glorying in the feel of his skin, the contours of his back – velvet over iron, muscle and heat and controlled power.
“Take this off,” I say, “it’s getting in the way.”
He sits up, pulls off his top in one move and throws it away. My eyes drink him in, and it is intoxicating – because now, I get to touch as well as look. I lift one hand, and run my fingers down his chest, chasing that plume of dark hair downwards.
I stop at the waistband of his jeans, fingers hooked over as though I’m going to try and tug them off, and look up to meet his eyes. He suddenly grins, and despite the intensity of the moment, we both start laughing. I have gone from being an untouchable ice-maiden to wanton hussy in the space of minutes, and it feels wonderful. He has undone me, and I am loving it.
He leans down, kisses me so well that I feel a little giddy, and says: “There’s no rush. We have all night.”