Chapter 25
Tim
I drove us back from the river, glad I had something to do while we fell into a charged silence.
I could feel every inch of Tabitha’s presence as my mind was consumed with flashes from the riverbank—the sweet sounds of her singing, the splash of water lapping over every secret dip of her skin, the rustle and slide of her climbing out of the river naked.
“So,” Tabitha said, her voice shaky, like she was as worked up as me. “Your mum is still swimming? I love that she was into that wild swimming way before it was trendy.”
Tabs had been vulnerable with me again, and now I craved that closeness with her.
“She’s actually not doing the wild swimming anymore.” My breathing went tight. “I wanted to tell you something, Tabs. You’re actually only the third person I’ve said this to. My mother has early dementia.”
Her eyes went wide, almost disbelieving. “Early dementia? Your mother?”
I nodded, pressing my trembling lips together. I’d thought this was already real for me, but telling Tabitha, saying Mum’s name with the diagnosis, seeing Tabitha’s shock, really brought it home. There was no going back to our old lives.
“Oh my God, Tim. I can’t believe this. What a shock. That’s terrible, I’m so sorry.” She touched my arm and stared at me. “When did you…? H-how?”
“How did I know? It started about six months ago. She was forgetting so many things, her purse, the day, friends’ names.
Then it started getting dangerous. She left the pot boiling, driving to the store, she was confused by road signs.
She woke up one night, horribly distressed, and wanted to walk to my house. ”
She blinked hard, stunned. “Oh, that’s awful, Tim. Your mother is so confident, so self-contained, so capable.” She rubbed my arm. “When did you get the…diagnosis?”
“Um. I think three months ago.” I was being a bit cagey with the timing. “It’s advanced quite fast. I’ve moved in with her.”
“How on earth are you coping with work and your mother’s care? Oh, I wish I had known. Tim, how can I help?”
“Thanks for offering, but I have it under control.” I turned the truck around a corner and sighed. “She has two carers, twin sisters, who are there during the day and at night until I get home.”
She touched my shoulder. “Your poor mother. And poor you.”
“I’ve got her into a really nice memory care place in a couple of months. Bibury Castle. It’s beautiful, and it has a pool where she can swim supervised.”
She hummed her recognition. “I’ve heard about that place. It’s very luxurious.”
“It’s really expensive, ten thousand pounds a month. I’ve already paid the hefty deposit, and now I need to pay six months in advance. That’s why I need the prize money.”
Her eyes flickered with understanding. “Now I see why you’re on this show. It all makes sense.” She turned to me with a new energy. “Did you know there’s a memory care place in the village? It’s much simpler but much closer for you—and much more affordable.”
I gripped the wheel tighter. “I want the best for Mum.”
“I’m sorry. It’s your and Amy’s decision, of course.”
“Amy doesn’t know.”
“What?”
My face hardened defensively. “She’ll give up London, her dreams, she’ll feel like she has to come home and go back to a legal job to help pay.
I need to protect her. She had a bad experience at her old law firm, with one sexist guy badmouthing her and another joining in, making it miserable for her. ”
“Oh, I see. That’s awful.” She moved closer. “Tim, I’m on your side, and your motivations are sweet and protective, but doesn’t your sister have the right to know what’s going on?”
“Please don’t tell her anything.”
She pressed her chest with the heel of her hand. “Tim, this could seriously blow up on you.”
I reassured her by taking her hand. “I will tell her eventually, just not now. Like I said, I’ve got everything under control.”
“Well, thank you for telling me. I’m so sorry.”
We were quiet for a minute, and it felt like she knew I didn’t want to talk about Mum’s condition anymore. “What’s the update on that role Amy was going for? I wish I’d kept in better contact with her.”
Tabs had always been friendly with Mum and Ames, but I’d assumed she hadn’t paid them much attention in recent years. Not with the way we’d left things. Knowing she still felt this awkwardness wrenched at my chest.
“I just saw her and Fitzy when they visited,” I said. “She got the role. She’s also hoping for a part in a play, so everything is going so well for those guys. When Fitzy left working for me to follow her down there, I was worried, but that guy had his mind made up.”
A shadow crossed her face at my mention of Fitzy following Ames. Then she brightened again.
“Oh, that’s incredible for Ames. She is so determined.”
“Yeah, she’s a pistol, all right.”
We were at her house now, so I parked and looked over at her.
The night was closing in, and the chill tried to cling to our clothes, but all I could smell and feel was her warmth.
I didn’t want her to get out. I wanted to sit like this all night.
Well, not sit, and not do the not-sitting in this truck, but…
I wanted to spend more time just the two of us, no camera crews around.
I wanted to ask her out… But we had two more weeks of working together, and I wasn’t sure the shoot was a good idea for a budding romance.
We might be caught on camera doing something that was bad for our ability to win.
If we were spotted being intimate, it might cause more negative comments online since women were clearly treated more harshly than men.
And I wanted to protect this new us from the outside world.
Plus, I wanted to get everything squared away with Mum’s new home and future, Amy’s future.
I didn’t have time for this sort of complication.
But not touching Tabitha for the next two weeks, not kissing her, not being allowed to take her hand or have her snuggle into me in the library—how could a man resist that temptation?
Warmth flooded my body at the thought of her soft skin under my fingers, her body burrowed into mine, having her where I could look after her.
Everything about that picture felt right and inevitable, and now that I’d allowed myself to think about us being together, for it to be a possibility… Fuck it. Fuck sensible.
“Would you like to go out to dinner on Thursday night in London?” I asked. A much better location than this nosy town, even if I had to drive down after work and drive back early the next morning.
My stomach clenched waiting for her response. I scanned her face for her answer, but I could only find a forehead crease on her pretty features, as though she was wrapping her brain around my words.
She blinked at me, a bit dazed. “Oh. Will you be down there already?”
“No.”
She tipped her head to one side. “Will we be having dinner with other people?”
“No.”
She thought about that for a moment. Was she looking for a way to brush me off? But no, instead of being cautious, she seemed confused. “So, you’ll just be coming down to have dinner with me?”
“Yes. Tabitha—” I leaned closer with a small smile “—I’m asking you out on a date.”
Her face flicked through disbelief, then embarrassment that she hadn’t understood. Finally her lips curled into a small smile. “Oh. Yes. I see.” She shook herself and smiled wider. “I would love to go out to dinner with you. Thank you.”
“Good.” My stomach whooshed stupidly. “I’ll try to find somewhere near your work and meet around six thirty for a drink first? Sound good?”
“Perfect.”
My heart racing, I got out, opened her door, and reached for her.
She clutched her clothes to her chest, placed her small, soft hand in mine, and held on tight as she got down from the truck.
I had to use all my restraint not to grab her by the waist, swing her into me, and kiss her senseless, but I was worried the affection was too much, too soon, and also that her parents might walk out.
Her hand still in mine, she looked up with a cheeky smile. “Your robe,” she said. She released my hand and clutched at the lapels.
“Yes. Take it off,” I joked. But I sort of growled the words.
She gasped, and her cheeks flushed. Then she bit on her lip lazily, like she might want to do just that.
I felt bolted to the ground, and a coil of tension gripped me at the thought of her dropping the robe right in front of me, standing there fully naked, all that creamy skin, those curves, those soft parts of her that had folded into the resistance of my body.
Maybe made bolder by my utterly dazed and struck expression, she gave me a brazen look, like she knew exactly what I was thinking. Then she winked and gave me a cheeky grin. “Nope, it’s mine now.”
My blood warmed at the thought of her keeping my robe, wearing it around the house or in her bedroom, knowing it had touched my skin before hers. I collected the leftover food and wine and glasses, intending to see her to the door, especially as the path wasn’t done yet.
“I’ll take that,” she said.
Maybe she didn’t want her parents to see us coming in together. I got it. I just wanted this between the two of us too.
“Thanks, Tim, for a great night,” she said. “And thank you for listening.”
My heart swelled at the sight of her walking to the front door in her bare feet, her hair sticking up all over the place, my white robe smeared with dirt and grass stains.
She put down her bags to get the door and opened it. She turned and did the hand signals for a rating, only giving me a nine out of ten.
You little… I spluttered out a laugh. I was grinning so hard I forgot to call out a comeback.
MAKEOVER YOUR MONEYMAKER, sneak peek.
Four design teams compete to turn a home into a business.
Team: Tim and Tabitha.
1,000 Comments:
1HardMan: Lots of whining about the deadline. Just get stuck in, love.
GirlBossesDoItBetter: She’s not whining, and Tabitha’s whole life is deadlines! No one works harder or for longer hours. She is a professional and clearly concerned about doing it right, not just a patch-up job for the cameras.
LaIslaBonita: She’s not your love, you patronizing git.
RugbyThighs69: New deadline. Let’s sweat it out, Timothy. Shirt. Off.
CotswoldsOwn: Simon said you have the money to make the deadline happen, so what’s the prob, sweetheart?
TeamTimFTW342: Maybe get a proper outfit for the job and you might meet the deadline. Floral outfits not suitable for real workers, girl.
LaIslaBonita: Ugh. You’re a pig.
DramaFarmer: The pigs are the answer! Pinky and Perky could do it in two weeks.
LlamasRLife: Never mind the pigs, the llama IS the leader.