Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
Penn flicked on the light, revealing an open-plan living room so cosy and stylish it wouldn’t have looked out of place in an interiors magazine. For all it appeared to be a tumbledown old farm building from the outside, it had been modernised inside, with comfortable squashy couches, fur rugs and rustic wood furniture. There was a small farmhouse kitchen area, an inglenook fireplace and on the far wall were floor-to-ceiling bi-fold doors that I imagined would frame a spectacular view in the daylight. But however welcoming it was, it was bloody freezing. I shivered and rubbed my hands on my arms.
‘I’ll light a fire,’ said Penn. ‘It’ll take ages if I put the central heating on.’
He set to work, gathering old newspaper, kindling and logs from a basket on the hearth, and built an impressive-looking pile. Then he poked a match into the kindling and it caught, flames licking through until it started burning nicely. Meanwhile, I wandered around the cottage, looking in the cupboards and drawers, poking my head into the bathroom – Molton Brown toiletries, very nice – and opened the last remaining door to find one double bedroom.
‘Is this…?’
‘The only bedroom? Yep.’ We exchanged a glance, then Penn coughed. ‘I’ll sleep on the sofa – don’t worry. There are plenty of spare blankets in the cupboard.’
‘Right. Well, thank you. So, there’s no telly, no Wi-Fi… what do people do for fun here?’
He shrugged. ‘Read books, look at the view.’
‘I like reading as much as the next person, but my concentration span wouldn’t stretch to a solid weekend of it.’
‘People go walking, have bubble baths… I don’t know, I guess they just entertain themselves.’
I nodded, suddenly becoming aware that without any distractions, Penn and I might have to actually have a conversation that lasted longer than five minutes. Then my belly filled the awkward silence by rumbling loudly.
‘You know, there should be something to eat in here. Mum and Dad keep a supply of stuff for the welcome packs.’ He felt on top of the kitchen cupboards and produced a small key, which opened a locked store cupboard. Inside were packets of local shortbread, fruitcake and some boxes of eggs. Alongside were several bottles of wine.
‘Take your pick,’ he said, and I chose a bottle of wine and some cake. ‘Good choice – that might thaw us out a bit.’
He poured us a glass each, and we sat on the sofa sipping it in between mouthfuls of cake. The rush of sugar and alcohol settled my jitters following the car accident, and the heat from the fire warmed me so well that I needed to take off my sweater. As I pulled it over my head, I caught Penn stealing a glance, and I flushed, remembering the daydreams I’d had about him undressing me.
‘I guess your folks are going to worry,’ I said, banishing any intrusive thoughts and relaxing back into the plump cushions.
‘I suppose they will, but there’s not a lot I can do about it. In the morning, I’ll walk out into the fields and see if I can get some signal. If not, we might be saved by a passing shepherd.’ His eyes crinkled at the side. I noticed again how they drew me in and tore my gaze away to look into the fire.
‘At least there’s a decent stock of biscuits to keep us going,’ I said. ‘I’m a dab hand at an omelette too. We’ll just have to pretend we’re in a zombie apocalypse and ration our provisions.’
‘Between the two of us, we should manage.’
‘True – I just hope we don’t run short of Molton Brown shower gel, or we might have to improvise with dish detergent.’
He laughed, but I was distracted by the sudden image of him in the shower, soap bubbles running down his torso, down his hips, and… I felt my face go hot and slugged a large amount of wine. These intrusive thoughts about Penn were getting out of hand.
‘Anyway,’ I said, trying to push the image from my mind in case it revealed itself on my face. ‘Do you think we’ll be saved in time to open up on Tuesday?’
‘I hope so. What’s Newcastle going to do without its premier purveyor of sex toys?’ Interestingly, he said this with a smile on his face.
‘You’ve changed your tune. Whenever it’s mentioned, you sound like I’m committing a mortal sin.’
He shook his head. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. I think what I was getting at was that you sometimes surprise me.’
‘I didn’t think you paid me that much attention. Other than being irritated with me.’
‘You get irritated by me too.’
‘I can’t disagree. Although, you are growing on me a tiny bit.’ His eyebrows rose. ‘Just a pea-sized amount, like the label on that fancy shampoo in the bathroom says.’
‘A little goes a long way.’ He looked at me, an unreadable expression on his face. ‘It’s funny, with all the bickering and cold shoulders in the shop, we’ve never really got to know each other.’
‘What do you want to know?’
He leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head. He mulled this over for a moment.
‘Tell me about your family,’ he said. ‘I’ve only met your mum and dad in passing.’
‘Okay. Like I said at the kitchen supper, my dad’s a builder, although as you can tell by the wheelchair, he’s out of action for a bit. Mam’s tried her hand at being an entrepreneur, but she tends to flit from one thing to the next, so that’s why I’ve got what I’d call an eclectic range of items in the shop. Er, they still live in the house where I grew up.’ At this I felt that flutter of worry again but squashed it down. ‘And my grandparents all live in Dunhall. Have done all their lives.’
‘Coincidence… that’s where I live.’ Then, suddenly, his face fell. ‘Does that mean your mum and dad both grew up there?’
‘Uh-huh.’
He groaned and rubbed his forehead. ‘Fuck. Now I know how I upset your dad. The lads and I were talking to him about where we live, and they were taking the piss out of it for being a shithole, as usual. Since I didn’t disagree, I’d assume your dad was rightly offended.’
That explained it. My dad wheeling his way out of the shop, pink in the face and making haste to get away. I sighed.
‘That’s not… ideal,’ I said. ‘But to be honest, I thought it might have been something much worse. It usually takes a fair bit to wind up my dad. He might have just been having a bad day.’ Penn’s pained expression eased a bit. ‘Honestly, I wouldn’t worry. He won’t even remember it now.’
I really did hope my dad would have brushed it off by now, and was very relieved that it was a simple misunderstanding rather than Penn wilfully making him feel like shit.
‘Well, tell him I’m really sorry,’ he said. ‘They both seemed nice.’
‘Your parents are nice too,’ I said politely, looking away as I did.
‘I think you’re being very diplomatic. Dad’s not such hard work, but I know my mum can be a bit prickly.’
I thought of her judging my clothing choices and giving me a clear message that I wasn’t good enough for her son, and struggled to disagree.
‘I’d imagine she just wants the best for you.’
He shook his head. ‘I think she wants what’s best for her , to be completely honest. Me back at home, dressed head to toe in tweed with a specially selected wife on my arm.’
‘Sophia,’ I said.
He grimaced and looked at his lap. ‘Yes. She’s still pushing that agenda. I’m sorry you’re having to deal with Sophia.’
‘She’s very full on,’ I agreed. ‘But I can handle her. And beyond the passive-aggressive comments and baring my arse to your entire family in the boathouse, she seems charming.’
He laughed heartily then, and I felt a flush of pleasure at making it happen.
‘But seriously, do you think you’ll give in? I mean, your mam is pretty skilled at masterminding the clothing situation.’ He pulled a face. ‘No judgement! She got me too.’
‘She won’t win this one. Absolutely not.’
We sat quietly for a moment, sipping wine, until I felt emboldened enough to ask, ‘Why did you and Sophia split up?’
He puffed out his cheeks. ‘Let’s just say we weren’t as compatible as we thought. We started seeing each other properly after graduating, and after that I moved to Newcastle. I wanted to get something going with the band – me and the lads met at uni – and Sophia seemed to like tagging along. One of the “band groupies” – and I say this lightly as we aren’t exactly big time enough to have actual groupies. She enjoyed the parties and the kudos of being involved in everything. I think she wanted to stick two fingers up at her own mum. Think Bunny on steroids, when it comes to micro-managing her kids’ lives.’
‘Uh-huh. So where did it all go wrong?’
‘I think Sophia thought it would just be a short-term thing – the band, the lifestyle. She always wanted to go back home after having a wild year or two. And when I wouldn’t come with her, she walked away.’
‘And broke your heart?’ I asked with a small smile.
‘No. It had run its course. We’d outgrown each other long before. And I hated how I wasn’t good enough because I had no money of my own. I didn’t want to live off my parents anymore. So because I lived in a shitty flat, and didn’t want to go to all the best restaurants and schmoozing events, she was the one who called it a day. But I didn’t object.’
I sat thinking. All this time I’d believed that he was living a pretence at being the struggling musician. It seemed to be more of the real deal than I’d imagined.
‘Anyway,’ he said. ‘That’s enough about me. I’ve wanted to say something all day – about last night.’
I tensed. I’d tried to keep last night out of my mind all day long, burying the horrible event under my enthusiasm for the treasure hunt.
‘I’m sorry,’ he continued, sitting forward with his elbows resting on his knees. ‘I’m really sorry for losing my rag so badly. I should never have been so worked up. I have no regrets about dragging him off you, but I came pretty close to punching him, and that was too far.’
‘It’s okay. I was stupid not to listen to you when you warned me off. The guy’s a monster.’
‘He is. He’s got terrible form for being handsy at the very least. God only knows how he’s still working at the estate – he manages to fly just under the radar. When I saw him all over you, I just saw red. Like I said, I’m sorry.’
‘You don’t need to apologise. If anything, I should say thank you. And I’m sorry too for giving you a hard time about it.’
Then the memory of him taking off the jacket swam into my mind again. My breath caught, and I tried to level myself.
‘He’s an idiot,’ I said, trying for a light laugh. ‘He even tried to run you down in front of me – he was quite pleased to tell me what I already know about your shooting record.’
‘Ha! Well, trust Gus to try and win you over by outing me as a terrible sportsman. If only he knew the whole story.’
‘God forbid Lord Ashcliffe’s son be revealed as a secret animal rights supporter,’ I said with a grin.
He smirked. ‘That isn’t even the half of it.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Who do you think tipped off your protest group?’
My mouth fell open. ‘You didn’t…’
‘I did. A friend of mine from one of the places we gig is one of Christa’s lot. He promised not to out me.’
‘You’re outing yourself now.’
He held my gaze. ‘I think I can trust you,’ he said softly.
I swallowed. There were those eyes again. All the times I’d looked into them scathingly in the shop – they seemed very far away. The Penn I knew, the one who took himself so seriously and seemed to have the world at his feet… who seemed to find me such a thorn in his side… had changed in the glow of the firelight. He didn’t break eye contact with me, and we were inches away from each other, leaning on the back of the couch.
Almost unthinking, I leaned towards him, and he responded. Our lips touched, and my pulse quickened as his hand grazed the side of my neck, holding me to him. I sensed an urgency in him, and he kissed me harder, his tongue flicking against mine. Then, suddenly, he pulled away, still holding the nape of my neck, his forehead against mine. He was breathing heavily.
‘Annie, I can’t,’ he said.
I sprang back, peeling his hands away. My eyes started to sting with the immediate effects of the mood change. He wouldn’t look at me.
‘What do you mean?’
He let out an exasperated breath. ‘I just… It’s not the right…’ He ran out of words and looked at me with a bleak expression on his face.
I got up abruptly and walked to the door, unsure of what I was planning to do, then on a whim I stuck my feet into my boots and strode outside into the snow. I heard Penn shout after me as I walked as fast as I could, the snow hampering me from breaking into a run.
My head was spinning as white flurries whirled around me. I hadn’t even thought to put on a coat. I was mortified. I’d opened myself up to him, let my long-held defences down and all I’d got was another knock-back. How many more ways could we fail to meet in the middle?
I’d reached the snow-banked car by the time he caught up with me, calling my name. I stopped by the tail lights and whirled round, cold tears clinging to my eyelashes.
‘What do you want?’
‘You,’ he said, panting.
‘You don’t. You just said so.’
‘I didn’t mean… God, Annie, you’re so hard to…’
‘Hard to what?’ I snapped. ‘Hard to like? Hard to help fit in here?’
He stepped towards me. ‘You’re so hard to understand!’
‘What the hell does that mean?’ I shouted, momentarily glad we were so isolated. My voice rang into the frigid air.
He was close enough now to touch me. I could feel his breath warming my face.
‘I can’t work you out,’ he replied, almost as loudly as me. ‘One minute we’re fighting; the next we’re kissing. You’re not the only one who’s confused.’
I stared at him then pushed him hard in the chest. ‘I’m not confused. I didn’t like you, but now I do. It’s as simple as that. Is this because you still don’t like me ? Or is it something else?’
‘Like what?’
‘Like, I’m just here to do a job, and we’ll go back to our own separate lives, like you said yesterday?’
‘No.’ His tone was firm even through his ragged breaths, and he looked almost furious. ‘It’s the opposite. I knew when I kissed you on the dance floor last night that if I ever kissed you again, then there’d be no going back. If I ever kissed you for real, I’d not be able to stop.’
I shook my head, barely able to make sense of it. That surge that had gone through me when we’d kissed at the ball, the undeniable connection that began at our lips and had spread right to my fingertips – it hadn’t been only me that felt it. I reached up and pulled his head to mine and kissed him hard.
Penn let out a brief gasp and then returned the kiss with even more force. Our tongues sought each other; our hands roamed over each other’s bodies. Neither of us was wearing a coat, but I hardly noticed the cold.
He guided me quickly towards the back of the car and pressed against me, his hands running down my back until they cupped my backside, pulling me towards him. His hips ground against me, and I felt him growing hard through his cords. He moaned quietly and lifted me just a little, so he was almost carrying me. Then he kissed down the side of my neck and to my chest, where my shirt had grown damp in the snow and was clinging to me. He nudged it with his nose to find the skin underneath then paused, breathing heavily against me.
‘You’re freezing,’ he said. ‘Come back to the house.’
Instead of letting go of me, he hitched me higher so my legs wrapped around his waist, kissing me over and over as he carried me up the path. In spite of the snow, each step was sure and full of purpose, until he gently let go of me to open the door. We stumbled through and fell into each other again, my wet shirt colliding with his T-shirt, which was also soaked. He pushed back my damp hair and looked into my eyes with a tenderness I could never have pictured, then it clouded with clear desire. He started to unbutton my shirt, and I ran my hands up under the back of his, feeling the muscles of his back grow taut under my touch.
He peeled away the fabric sticking to my skin, then unclasped my bra and bent his head to my breasts, his tongue circling my nipple. Goosebumps broke out all over me, nothing to do with the cold. I pulled off his top, and we pressed together, naked from the waist up. The feel of his skin on mine was a pleasant shock, making me tingle right down my body and in between my legs. I’d gone from not wanting Penn anywhere near me to needing him so badly it hurt. I pulled him to the kitchen table, and he hoisted me up, pulling at my trousers while I unbuckled his.
‘I want you, Annie. Do you want me?’ he asked.
I nodded, unable to speak.
He went to retrieve a condom from his wallet, leaving me perched on the edge of the table trying to steady my breath until he returned. Then he lay me back and kissed me down the length of my torso, his lips skirting my curves, his hand between my thighs, making my breath come in sharp bursts. His mouth caught up with his hand and replaced it, and his tongue moved in time with the moans escaping from me. Every time I came close to the edge, he held back. I felt light-headed with wanting him, dizzy with the sudden crystal clear realisation that I’d wanted him for so long.
Finally, he stood up and pushed himself between my legs, one hand massaging my breast. I gasped and sat up, holding on to his shoulders, kissing him feverishly as the movement of his hips nudged me against the edge of the table. I shifted myself forward, and this new position made me go weak from the stimulation. He gripped my back tighter as I shuddered, holding me close, and I watched as those beautiful brown eyes hazed over with his building urgency. Then he stiffened, his mouth against the side of my head, a ragged gasp escaping from it.
Breathing heavily, we stayed there, not moving away from each other for a long time.