Chapter 29
We never made it to dinner.
Instead, Eliza suggested we walk into the village, and something about the way she said it — gentle, like she understood I needed to move, to breathe — made me nod. The path wound down through vineyards, past stone walls covered in climbing roses that released their perfume into the evening air.
The village was small and perfect, like something from a fairy tale.
Cobblestone streets, wooden chalets with flower boxes overflowing with geraniums, and a little church with a bell tower silhouetted against the darkening sky.
Most of the shops were closed, but warm light spilled from restaurant windows and we could hear the gentle murmur of conversation and clinking glasses.
We wandered past a fountain where water trickled over worn stone, and Eliza slipped her hand into mine. I didn’t pull away. The sparks I’d come to expect when our fingers met didn’t stun me this time. Rather, they warmed me. Here, it felt like the perfect thing to do.
“Your mum loved evening walks through the village, didn’t she?”
I glanced at Eliza’s heart-shaped chin, her strong jaw, her just-right ear lobes. She was taking charge. She was looking after me. The butterflies in my stomach soared.
“How did you know that?” The observation caught me off guard.
“I remember her telling me, and also, I remember you moaning about it when you were younger. How you just wanted to be on your iPad after dinner, but she always dragged you out for a walk, a drink, a chat.”
I closed my eyes and shook my head. “That sounds like something I would have said. Mum loved the old buildings and streets, being connected to history.”
Eliza squeezed my hand gently. “It’s time to make your own traditions in Switzerland. But they can be the same as your mum’s, too. That might make them extra-special.”
I expected to be overwhelmed with memories, and I was, but not in a sad way. Instead, I could feel Mum here with me, smiling at the washing on the lines up high, waiting for the church bell to ring. It was nice to do it with Eliza. It was extra-nice that she understood.
We found ourselves in the village’s main square, where strings of lights had been hung between the buildings and a few couples were dancing to music from an accordion player sitting on the church steps.
It was utterly romantic, the kind of scene Mum would have stopped to photograph from every angle.
On the far corner, a flower seller sold roses of all colours.
Should I run over and buy a bunch for Eliza?
I immediately rolled my eyes. That was way too corny. I had no idea what this was and what Eliza thought it was. One thing I did know: we were nowhere near corny.
“Dance with me.” Eliza held out a hand.
Perhaps I was wrong and we’d arrived at corny?
“Here? Now?”
“Your mum never let self-consciousness stop her, did she? She would have been the first one up dancing.”
Before I could protest, Eliza pulled me into the square, and her arms slid around my waist as the accordion player launched into something slow and beautiful. Other couples smiled at us as we swayed together under the fairy lights, and I found myself relaxing into Eliza’s embrace.
“Your mum loved you,” she whispered into my ear as we twirled. “I know you had your differences, but she would love what you’re doing, too. Just like I do.”
My whole body vibrated with her words. I’d never doubted my mum’s love. But Eliza was right: I needed validation from someone who got what I was doing. Margot wasn’t going to do it, and my dead relatives didn’t perform to order.
Getting it from someone who was alive and on my side was the next best thing.
Eliza paused, pulling back so I could see the vulnerability in her face.
“You’re amazing, Poppy. Who you are, what you’re doing.
I always thought that when we were younger.
I always loved being your friend. Our years apart are behind us, and now I want to be more than that.
I want to be the one you rely on. I know I wasn’t part of your plan, but I hope I can become your whole plan.
I want you to know, I’m falling for you. ”
My brain seized up at her words. I never expected to dance in a village square with Eliza. I never expected her to say something like that.
“This can’t be happening,” I said, as if my ears had deceived me.
She held me closer, her eyes serious in the soft light. “It is happening. And you can panic about it, or you can get used to it, because I’m not going anywhere. I know this is complicated, but we can work it out. I want to work it out.” She gazed into my eyes. “And I think you do, too.”
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I could hear Mum’s voice from years ago: Be careful who you trust, darling.
People will say anything when they want something.
But looking at Eliza in the fairy lights, dancing with me in this perfect village square like we were the only two people in the world, I pushed the words away.
This was genuine.
She was genuine.
“Of course I do,” I admitted. “That’s why I’m terrified.”
“Good.” She cupped my face. “Let’s feel the fear and do it anyway.”
The walk back was different. Charged. Every brush of her fingers against mine, every sideways glance, every moment when our shoulders touched as we navigated the narrow path felt deliberate. The careful distance we’d maintained had collapsed entirely.
In the hotel lift, we stood on opposite sides, but the air between us hummed with tension. Eliza’s eyes never left mine, and I could see my own want reflected back at me. When the doors opened, she held out her hand.
“Your room or mine?”
“Mine,” I said without hesitation, leading her down the corridor.
I managed to get the door open, and we tumbled inside, immediately reaching for each other. Her hands tangled in my hair, mine gripped her waist, and when she kissed me, it was hungry, desperate. Decidedly not weekday material.
I knew now that my crush on Eliza went way back. That I’d inexplicably taken my frustrations out on her for not being age-appropriate when I was 12 or 14, and carried that into my adult life.
Eliza had always been around, but we’d been in different phases of our lives. She’d been busy building a career and getting married. I’d been busy avoiding my family, Voss Watches, and her.
Not anymore.
Eliza had landed back in my life at the same time as Voss had, which was always going to be a potent cocktail to deal with.
But Eliza had helped me over the past few months.
She’d also made me see that I could do this.
That my mum was proud of me. That running towards my problems was always better than burying them and running away.
She’d helped me with work and my personal life, and now, I couldn’t see a future without her in it.
Which scared the living hell out of me, but also, made me realise that I’d never had this with anyone else before.
There was a fine line between love and hate, and for me, it had always been Eliza.
That thought had crystallised when she asked me to dance, and my body almost levitated.
Dancing with a woman in a public square wasn’t something I’d normally entertain.
But with Eliza? She made everything seem possible.
She was the definition of what could be. Of what might be.
The other thing? She’d always taken the lead. Now, I was determined to top her. I loved what Eliza had given me so far, but today, it was more than time to turn the tables.
When I pushed her down on the bed, she seemed to understand and acquiesce.
Our mouths met in a tumble of limbs, fitting together perfectly.
I wanted to remove every item of her clothing, but I also wanted to take my time.
Every other instance we’d come together naked, it had been fast and furious, as if it would never happen again.
At one point, I’d been sure that might be true.
Now, I gazed at her silver St Christopher necklace that hung down past the mole on her right breast, drinking her in. A few moments later, my gaze climbed back to her full, pink lips, and I shook my head.
She’d been right under my nose all my life. I’d avoided her because of stupid pride, and then our lives had gone in separate directions. In a roundabout way, my mum’s death had brought us back together. If I was looking for a sign from the afterlife, surely this was it?
But now, I wasn’t going to think about my mum, my gran, or Voss Watches.
I was going to focus all my attention on the way Eliza’s eyes burned with want when she looked at me.
The way the edges of her mouth turned upwards when I slowly unbuttoned her blue shirt.
The way her toned muscles flexed as she shook free her bra.
The way she moaned when I took her nipple into my mouth and sucked.
Long minutes later, after I’d peeled away Eliza’s clothes and then my own, I settled my naked body against hers. The first touch of skin to skin pulled matching gasps from our throats: that moment when pretence fell away and you’re left with nothing but each other.
My mouth found hers, and we kissed like we were drowning, like each press of lips could anchor us to something real in a world that felt so uncertain.
Every time she arched into me, something cracked open in my chest: not breaking, but blooming.
This wasn’t just desire; it was something that made me forget every reason I’d had for keeping my distance.
When she came up for air, my hands roaming her arse, she took my hand and placed it over her core. “Please,” she begged. “I need to feel you.”
But I wasn’t going to be that easy. I wanted this to be memorable, just like Eliza was to me. Always had been. I skated my fingertips around, up and over, never quite getting to the point, and Eliza moaned in my ear.
“That’s it,” I whispered right back. “I want you wet and ready for me.”
That pulled another moan as I pushed her legs apart, playing with her until she squirmed and her eyes sprang open, breathless.
“If you’re trying to kill me, please don’t. I want this orgasm before I die.”
“I promise to keep you alive just long enough.” I circled her a few more times, before slipping just the tips of my fingers inside.
She screwed up her face and lifted her hips off the bed.
I grinned, teased her a little more until she hissed, then slowly eased myself back in, slid between her legs, and began to fuck her.
And honestly? I could wax lyrical about the noises she made.
The agony and ecstasy on her face. The way her hips thrust against me as heat rose up her body in faint pink streaks.
She sat up halfway through, her eyes wild as I fucked her some more, wrapping an arm around my neck and pulling me to her.
Her follow-up kiss was intense. And when I slid my thumb over her clit, we both groaned at how ready she was.
Fucking her like this, kneeling together, her begging for release was the greatest privilege of my life. It only took another couple of seconds for everything to topple, and Eliza Carpenter to come in a rush all over my fingers. To come so hard, she squirted over my hand.
When she did, her eyes sprang open. I didn’t let her dwell on it. Instead, I brought her to climax again, and when she pushed me away, spent, and fell backwards, I kissed my way up her body, finally placing a hot, wet kiss on her mouth.
She was still getting her breath back a few minutes later when she opened her eyes. “Check you out being all masc.”
I gave her a tiny smile. “I can turn it on when I want to.”
“I’m well aware.”
Her eyes never left me when she spoke.
“That was incredible, by the way. I might be dead, but I’m happy.”
I turned up my smile. I was still caught in her Eliza forcefield and resistance was futile.
Her declaration earlier had freed up something inside me, something that made me want to show and tell Eliza what I wanted.
I’d done the first. Now, with my true feelings swirling around my body with abandon, I had to do the second.
“I want you to know, I’m falling for you, too.” I kissed her lips one more time. I couldn’t keep away. “Completely, utterly, totally.” I stared into her bright eyes, and she gave me the sexiest, surest smile imaginable.
“I’m super-glad, because it would have been really awkward otherwise.” She paused. “One caveat, though. You think we can stay here forever?”
“I’ll check with Margot and Fiona. I’m sure they’d be down with it.”