Chapter Fifteen
Will
The smell of something burning hit my nostrils before I’d even opened the kitchen door.
“What the hell?” I muttered, throwing the door open and stepping inside, not even remembering to remove my boots as I stared at the chaos before me.
Jamie stood in front of the hob, prodding at something in a pan that was smoking.
There was some blackened toast sticking out of the toaster, and there was a small puddle of water around the kettle where it had been overfilled.
There were at least three dirty bowls on the side with another two saucepans in the sink and a pile of eggshells on the counter next to the open tub of butter.
“What on earth… What happened?” It looked like a fucking bomb had hit my kitchen, and I had no idea how one man had managed to make this much mess.
“Funny story,” Jamie said, turning to me with a sheepish grin. “It turns out scrambled eggs are not as easy to make as the BBC Good Food website would have you believe.”
I stared at him. “You tried to make scrambled eggs?”
“Tried being the important word there. I, er, I thought you might be hungry when you came back, and I wanted to make you something more substantial than toast. I didn’t think it would be this difficult.” He prodded the burnt, misshapen lumps in the pan in front of him. “Sorry.”
He sounded totally bereft, and it reminded me of the time when I was seven and had tried to make Mum breakfast in bed for Mother’s Day.
I’d done my best, but that had also involved two broken plates and a bottle of milk going all over the kitchen.
And considering Jamie had openly admitted he had no idea how to cook, I couldn’t be mad at him for trying.
“It’s fine,” I said as I gathered my wits about me.
“Turn that hob off and let’s clean up, then I’ll teach you.
” I reached down to unlace my boots, leaving them on the mat and hanging my coat on the rack.
I hadn’t anticipated adding teaching basic cooking skills to my to-do list for the morning, but what was one more thing.
“You don’t have to. You’re busy, and I don’t want to make more work for you. Even though I suppose I already have.” He sighed, and it was only then, as I walked across to him, that I registered what he was wearing.
“You borrowed my jumper,” I said.
“I hope you don’t mind. I thought it would be warmer than mine since your house is freezing. Also, I wasn’t sure if I needed to put more logs on the fire. I think it was still burning, but I’m not the best judge.”
“It’s fine. It looks good on you.” It was one my mum had knitted for me a couple of years ago, and I wore it a lot in the winter because it was warm and comfortable and long enough in the torso that I didn’t get a cold breeze rushing up my back when I bent down.
It was a deep forest green with speckles of colour dotted throughout, and I remembered how excited my mum had been when she’d found the wool in the craft shop in town because she’d always loved including pops of colour in things.
And seeing Jamie wearing it did something strange to my insides.
I’d never had a partner who’d worn my clothes before. Now I never wanted to see him in anything else.
I closed the gap between us and wrapped one arm around his waist, pulling his back against my chest and pressing a kiss to his neck. “I like seeing you in my clothes.”
“If this weather keeps up, you’ll be seeing a lot more of it,” he said. “I can’t drive back to town in this.”
“If you want to leave, I can take you. It’ll be easy in the Land Rover.” I didn’t want him to leave, but I didn’t want him to feel like he was trapped.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll stay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” He twisted his head around and kissed me. “But only if you give me more of your jumpers to wear. Your house is really fucking cold.”
“Done,” I said with a chuckle. “You do know it’s about six hundred years old, right? It’s not exactly easy to keep warm.”
“I guess we’ll just have to keep each other warm, then,” he said. “Like penguins.”
“You didn’t want me calling you a frog yesterday, but now you’re happy to be a penguin?”
“That was then. This is now.” He grinned against my mouth, relaxing back against me. “Sorry again for ruining your kitchen.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t burn it down or break anything,” I said.
“Now you just have to clean it up. And before you say you don’t know how, I’ll teach you.
” I tilted my head back and looked past him at the sorry pan of eggs.
I’d never seen anything look so god-awful, and I was almost pleased he’d burnt them so I didn’t have to try and eat them.
“You must think I’m such a prat. I’m nearly thirty, and I can’t even make fucking scrambled eggs.”
“Everyone’s got to start somewhere.” I patted his butt and added, “Come on, let’s get it done. I can’t be here all morning, and I’d actually like to eat something.”
While Jamie threw away the burnt eggs, cremated toast, and mountain of eggshells, I nipped through to the sitting room to chuck more logs on the fire. Mog opened one eye and looked at me, then glanced towards the kitchen as if giving her opinion on Jamie. I wasn’t sure if she was impressed or not.
Once the fire was stoked, I walked back to the kitchen and showed Jamie how to load the dishwasher and stick it on before getting him to wipe down the sides while I washed the frying pan and refilled the kettle.
Despite my initial fears that Jamie had used everything in his repeated attempts to master scrambled eggs, there were still a few eggs left in the basket and enough bread for toast, and before long, I stood behind Jamie again as I gently helped him fold eggs with a wooden spoon.
“You don’t want the heat too high,” I said, gently moving his arm. “Otherwise, it all sticks to the pan and burns or turns into rubber.”
“Or, if you’re me, both.”
“That’s called talent.”
Jamie laughed and shook his head. “I’m guessing cooking it on a higher heat doesn’t just make it cook quicker?”
“It does, but not in the way you want. You need to control the heat.” I helped him stir them again, watching as they came together into beautifully soft and fluffy golden clouds. “See?”
“Oh my God, they actually look like eggs!”
“Ta-da.” His excitement was adorable, and I’d never expected to find a grown man so fucking endearing. “Turn the heat off to let them finish cooking. I’ll get the toast.”
“Is it ridiculous that I’m excited about this?” Jamie asked. “It feels like this is something I should’ve learnt years ago. I think most students can make breakfast.”
“You’d be surprised,” I said, thinking back to my own university days. “I lived with this one guy in my first year who couldn’t even boil an egg and thought you could eat chicken rare.”
“Even I’m not that stupid.”
“How did you manage at university? Didn’t you live in a house share?”
“Sort of, but I actually just lived with a couple of friends from school in a house my father bought for us, and it was just easier for us to have a housekeeper and someone to sort food for us. And when neither of them were around, we just lived on takeaway, restaurant meals, and alcohol. And before university, I was at boarding school, so I’ve always had someone looking after me. ”
I reached for what was left of the loaf of bread, cutting it into thick slices and popping them into the toaster while I tried to think how to respond.
It sounded like such a strange life to me to be so used to other people doing things for you that you had no concept of how to do things for yourself.
I didn’t pity Jamie, but it wasn’t a life I’d want for myself. “Did you never fancy learning?”
“Not really. I never saw the point of it. Although, this morning may have altered that. Perhaps I should ask Michael to give me a few lessons so I can make the basics,” Jamie said.
“I should probably be able to fend for myself in case of the apocalypse. Or, heaven forbid, if I find myself in self-catering.” He shot me a cheeky smile, his tongue poking out of the corner of his lips.
“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” I said. “We’ve got half a dozen self-catering properties around the farm, and they’re always popular. I think they’re all booked for the summer already.”
“As charming as that sounds, I’m not sure they’re for me. How else am I supposed to find sexy men in pubs and convince them to come back to my room to fuck me?”
“Just use Grindr like everyone else.”
“True, but then they’d have to come and find me, and I’m so impatient when I’m horny.” He grinned at me. “Although… it would mean I was closer to your house, and having a sexy farmer on tap sounds ideal.”
“Maybe it would be best if you didn’t stay in one, then,” I said teasingly. “You’d just be here all the time wanting food and sex. I’d never get you to leave.”
“Come on, you can’t tell me that doesn’t sound fabulous. I’m wonderful company and an excellent fuck. You’d love it.”
“If you say so,” I said as the toast popped. I pulled it out and dropped it onto the old wooden chopping board, reaching for the tub of butter, which was considerably emptier than when I’d opened it yesterday.
“I do.”
I glanced over at Jamie, who was smiling at me.
It made my insides twist and bubble. I tried to push the feeling down, but as soon as I tried, it just slipped through my fingers like I was trying to catch water.
I’d never felt like this before, and I wasn’t sure it was welcome.
I didn’t even know what it was, only that it was connected to Jamie and the way he looked at me.
I looked down at the toast, hoping that focusing on the thing right in front of me would free me from distractions. But all I could think about was how rarely I made breakfast for two.
“Can you grab some plates?” I asked, looking over my shoulder and gesturing at one of the cupboards. “Do you want tea too?”
“I would kill for some coffee if you’ve got some.”
“I have. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s got caffeine.”
“Right now, that’s all I need,” Jamie said with a smile that turned the bubbling feeling in my stomach into a rolling boil.
He was holding the plates in his hand, and there was something about seeing him in my kitchen, wearing my clothes, and helping make breakfast, that called to some long-lost part of my soul.
One I thought I’d given up years ago when I’d accepted my lot in life.
It was like a whisper on the wind over the moor, like a summer breeze through the heather and an autumn chill from the sea.
It frightened me in a way that nothing else had before because I knew it would be impossible to keep.
All I would be able to do was watch it pass me by and feel the caress of it on my skin before it danced away and left me where I always was. Alone.
“Are you okay?” Jamie asked as he put the plates down beside me, and I forced a smile.
“Yeah, sorry, just thinking about work. Not sure how long I’ll be able to hang around unfortunately.” Was I running away from my emotions? Probably. But at that moment, I didn’t know what else to do. “Do you want a lift back to town?”
“Maybe… or… Can I come with you? I don’t know if I’ll be any help, but I, er… I want to try. And I’d love to see more of the farm. I just might need to borrow some boots. And a coat if you’ve got a spare one.”
I stared, trying not to let shock register on my face. Of all the things I’d been expecting Jamie to say, offering to help hadn’t been on my bingo card. I hadn’t even thought it was an option.
“Yeah,” I said, forcing the words out before the silence hung in the air for too long. “Sure. That’d be great.”
“Perfect, and I promise not to complain about the cold. If I do, you can… I don’t know, throw snowballs at me or something.”
I chuckled and shook my head as I put the toast on the plates, wondering what other surprises the day would bring.