Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
By the time I get back to the house, I’ve been out for well over an hour. I needed that time and space to try and bend my mind around things, as well as to give Bear a good run around.
I let myself in, and find that Zack is up, showered and dressed. He looks ten times better than he did yesterday, with some of his old energy back. Bear ambles over to him and thumps his tail.
“Has he been fed?” he asks.
“He has. He’s trying to con you.”
“Not for the first time. And you… have you been fed?”
“Yes. I ate an apricot pastry that I got myself from the bakery. Then I ate an apricot pastry that I got for you from the bakery as well. Soz.”
He laughs, and walks over to me. He reaches out and puts his hands on my waist, pulling me so close to him our bodies collide. He keeps me there, and I can’t say it’s an unpleasant feeling.
“You look good in my T-shirt,” he says, running a hand up my back so slowly it makes me shiver. His fingers twine themselves into my hair, and he gently turns my face upwards to look at him. My heart starts to go crazy at the contact, and at the look in his eyes. When he finally leans down to kiss me, I’m already desperate to feel his lips on mine. I fling my arms up and around his neck, pulling him closer and letting the moment claim me. He edges me backwards until my back is against the wall, and I am deliciously trapped against him. Wow. This man can really kiss, and in my experience, men who can really kiss can usually do everything else really well, too.
When we come up for air, I feel almost lightheaded, and cling on to him for balance. He grins down at me, his eyes twinkling and his smile almost smug when he sees my reaction. He knows he’s just unravelled me, and he’s enjoying it.
“You seem to be feeling better,” I say, letting my hands settle on his shoulders.
“I do, don’t I? And a lot of the time I’m fine. Yesterday was especially tough, right up until the moment I found a mad former celebrity chef sitting on my front doorstep.”
“Yeah. Well, that would cheer most people up, to be fair. Can we talk, do you think? Without you touching me?”
“I thought you liked me touching you!”
“I do. A bit too much. I can’t think clearly when you’re touching me.”
He nods, and we both take chairs around the dining table. Bear realises it’s a no-go on the second breakfast front, and slumps at his master’s feet.
“So,” he says, sipping a glass of orange juice, “how are you feeling about everything this morning? I know that was a lot to take in. I know this isn’t ideal. And I wouldn’t blame you at all if you left – I’d completely understand it.”
“I do plan on leaving, Zack. Maybe not immediately, but sometime very soon.”
He nods, and I see the effort it is taking for him to keep his face in neutral, the way his hand trembles slightly as he puts his glass down. He presses his lips together as though he’s trying to stop himself from talking, and he closes his eyes for a second as he digests what I’ve said. He’s hurt and disappointed and trying to hide it.
“I understand. Thank you for everything.”
“Hang on, pal – I haven’t finished!”
“Oh. To use one of your words, soz.”
“As you should be. Look, Zack, we’re both too old to play games, aren’t we? So let’s not. How do you feel about me? Straight-up honest answer please!”
He looks taken aback for a moment, but then replies, with heart-warming conviction: “The way I feel about you is the only simple thing about all of this. I love you, Connie.”
I feel a little spike in my pulse, and give myself a second to enjoy the absolute thrill of hearing those words. Words that I haven’t heard for so long, other than from the lips of my children and my extended family. Words that certainly haven’t been accompanied by one of those spectacular kisses.
“Well, that’s handy, because I feel exactly the same. I love you, even though I’m still surprised by that. And I want to be with you.”
He opens his mouth to speak, and I know that he is about to object. About to point out all the complications, all the drawbacks, all the potential problems.
“No, Zack, don’t do that. I already know the issues. But a wise woman – okay, Ella – just made me really think about all of this, and I’ve decided she’s right. None of us can predict the future. None of us know how much time we get to spend with each other. I don’t know, and neither do you. All I do know is that I want to be with you. I feel alive when I’m with you, and I’m not ready to turn my back on that. So, as we’re old and don’t play games anymore, how would you feel about coming back to Starshine Cove with me when I leave?”
“It would be complicated,” he says, gazing past my shoulder and seeming to think about it.
“Pah to complicated.”
“It would be an adjustment for both of us, after all this time alone.”
“Pah to adjustment.”
“It would be a surprise for the girls.”
“Pah to the girls, they’re old enough to understand.”
“It would be… wonderful.”
“Pah to— Oh. Okay. Wonderful. I like that. Wonderful doesn’t deserve a pah.”
We look at each other across the table, and we both smile like teenagers. He holds out his hands, and I take them in mine. I hold him tight, and vow that I won’t let him go.
“That was a big decision,” he says. “And neither of us seems to be regretting it yet.”
“No. I’m glad. And I know there will be stuff to sort out, but we’ll manage it. Together. We’ll figure it out as we go.”
“Together,” he replies, that big dumb grin going nowhere fast. “That sounds good.”
He nods decisively, and suddenly stands up. He keeps hold of my hands, and does that thing where he whooshes me up and catches me in his arms.
He turns around and walks into the hallway, leading me by the hand.
“Where are we going now?” I ask, looking at the stairs and hoping we’re going where I think we’re going.
“To bed. I’m sick of ‘to be continued’, aren’t you?”