Chapter 14
fourteen
OWEN
Meowrse stared at the coil of rope in my open bag with disdain. My eyes had snagged on it multiple times, too. Claire had rendered my brain mush since the previous night. I’d boiled the kettle three times and still hadn’t successfully made a cup of tea yet.
The distillery sat calm as the sun rose. Birds twittered outside, and the trees that surrounded the house shone golden in the early morning light. Couldn’t focus because I was busy replaying the sound Claire made when she came. It would be seared into me forever.
I hadn’t planned on taking the rope. I hadn’t planned on half the things I did the previous night.
I certainly hadn’t planned on kissing Claire like a starving man and then saying no to more.
Falling for her wasn’t in the plan. I’d told myself that I could indulge in being her dirty little fling, but already I dreaded the day she would leave Otterleigh Bay.
Meowrse hopped on the table as soon as I sat down, and butted my wrist. I scooped him onto my lap with a gentle admonishment. Not that he cared for my rules one bit.
My phone buzzed.
Isla. No rest for the wicked.
ISLA: You up?
ISLA: Please say yes because our video has gone fucking bananas.
ISLA: Cosy Country emailed she painted. Scruff thumped against the back door with a stick.
‘He’s going to deposit that on the doorstep,’ Claire said, taking a sip of her cold coffee and scrunching her nose.
Right on cue, there was a scrape and a knock against the front door. Then Scruff’s excited bark. Claire went to open the door, and I followed.
She stepped out into the crisp morning to move Scruff’s trophy off the path, an impressively large branch, and a young delivery driver in shorts sauntered down the garden path with a package. He took one look at Claire, his eyes sliding to her bare thighs before he puffed up his chest.
‘Parcel for Mrs Morag Campbell,’ he said, eyes staying on Claire’s mouth for too long. ‘I can leave it with you if you like. Or come back later…’
‘We’ll take it,’ I said, leaning on the doorframe behind Claire and folding my arms.
Claire shot me a look that I chose to read as behave, then smiled at the lad. ‘We’ll make sure she gets it. Thank you.’
‘No bother.’ He handed the parcel to her and let his fingers brush hers. ’You new here? I’m Callum. I do… deliveries.’
‘I’m sure the packages were a clue,’ I said mildly.
He finally looked at me, processed the size difference, and backed off. ‘Right. Well. Welcome to Otterleigh.’
He went back down the path, glanced over his shoulder once more at Claire’s thighs, and nearly walked into Trevor. The angry bird screamed at him from its perch on the post, sending the delivery guy skittering.
Damn. Maybe Trevor wasn’t so bad after all.
I exhaled and unclenched my shoulders. The jealousy was stupid and unnecessary, but I couldn’t help but feel its bite.
‘Was that your version of pissing on your tree?’ Claire asked, amusement lilting her words as she shut the door behind us.
‘Maybe.’
‘You went all macho on the poor boy. Don’t worry, Owen, I’ve got my eyes on someone a little more seasoned.’ My heart did a funny little skip at her words.
‘He was flirting while wearing shorts in October,’ I said. ‘That’s a cry for help.’
She leaned back against the door, her lips twitching. ‘You weren’t jealous?’
‘No,’ I lied, an instinctive drive for protection. Then I softened because her sweet face demanded more from me. ‘Yes. A little.’
She stepped closer and tilted her face up, the pink tip of her tongue catching her lower lip. ‘Maybe you need to get all firm and growly with me.’
‘Tempting.’ I slid a hand to the side of her throat, my fingers grazing the back of her neck while my thumb rested against her pulse. ‘But I’ve got a meeting with Isla at twelve, and I fully intend to take my time with you.’
Her nose crinkled. ‘Why haven’t you ripped my clothes off yet? It’s driving me crazy. Are you embarrassed by me?’
‘I’m not ashamed of you in the slightest. I will happily be seen with you until the village noticeboard collapses under the weight of the gossip. As long as our games stay between us.’
Her brows furrowed. ‘Privacy, not secrecy?’
‘Exactly. And trust me, I’ve thought about tearing these clothes off for days, but I don’t want to rush. You’re only here for a few weeks, and I intend to make sure you go back to London with my name on your breath. A quick fuck won’t suffice, Claire.’
She didn’t need to know about Becky or why I was so hesitant to let myself go all in.
‘Good,’ she said. ‘I very much look forward to a slow f—’
I leant forward and kissed her. Our mouths moved achingly slow, all sensuality as she melted under my touch. Fuck, who needed sex when her kisses were enough to have me rock solid? A soft moan tumbled against my lips, and I couldn’t help but smile.
My phone buzzed.
‘Don’t stop,’ she breathed.
It buzzed again.
‘That’ll be Isla, stressing about this afternoon.’
‘Sack her off and I’ll let you tie me up again…’ Claire gave me a devious grin that had me weakening on the spot.
‘Unless you want Isla peeping through your windows while I have you spread out in my rope, I’d better not.’ The idea had me tempted to tell Isla to take a hike. Because damn I itched to hear Claire scream my name.
‘Well,’ Claire said, walking her fingers up my chest. ‘I could come. And after the meeting, you could take your time with me all afternoon.’
‘You’re insatiable.’
‘I can’t help it, being near you puts disgraceful thoughts in my head. Is it too much?’ A thread of worry crossed her freckled face.
‘No, Claire. Don’t dampen down a single part of you. I love knowing you’re a needy little thing for me.’ Running my hands down her back, I pulled her against me, arching my hips. Her eyes widened. ‘Do you feel what you do to me?’
‘I could take care of that for you…’
‘Patience, you wee brat. Later.’
She pouted as I reluctantly released her and checked my phone.
ISLA: Noon. Your house.
ISLA: Did you pick up cake?
ISLA: Or are you too busy with your Londoner?
I texted back:
You bring the cake. I’ll see you then.
‘Business?’ Claire asked.
‘Yeah, there’s been some interest from a magazine and influencers, and Isla wants us to shoot a load more reels. You can talk it over with her over lunch.’
‘So I’m coming?’ Claire perked up.
‘In more ways than one. Pack some spare underpants.’