Chapter 11 #2
There’s a lightly pleading note to her voice, and I wonder how long it is since she felt useful.
Since she felt needed. From what she’s said, even when she was married it wasn’t that way.
And one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that we all want to feel needed.
Shannon moving away has proved that to me.
I nod in agreement, and she skips up the stairs, telling me she’s going to grab a quick shower first.
A while later she calls me up, and as I climb the steps I smell something… feminine. Floral. The complete opposite of the things I usually use in the bathroom, which come in big black tubs and might as well say ‘Men Only’ on a picture of a hand grenade.
‘I’m sorry about the lavender,’ she says, as we meet outside the bathroom.
She’s wearing clean clothes, a white peasant-style dress that hugs her slender figure.
Her hair is wet, streaming over her shoulders.
‘It was the only thing I had with me. I’m sure you’re confident enough in your masculinity to survive, though.
It’s nice and hot, and so big! I think even you’ll fit in it… ’
Her eyes wander over me, and I get the feeling she’s sizing me up.
Imagining me in the tub. I nod in thanks, and close the door.
I shut it, and lock it, and then lean against it.
Damn. This is getting complicated. I don’t want to feel the things I’m feeling.
I don’t want to want her. She’s vulnerable, and I’m me, and the whole thing would be a disaster.
I strip off my clothes, and climb in, carefully lowering myself into the water. It gives me instant relief, and I sigh as some of the pain eases. She was right. It is a big tub. Big enough for two…
I close down that train of thought before it derails me. Deep breathing, and thinking about roof repairs. Nice and unsexy, all the way.
I spend a good half hour in there, topping up the water, sneakily enjoying the lavender.
I hear music from downstairs, and every now and then the sound of Kate singing along.
She has a pretty voice. And a pretty face.
And… shit! I clamber out with a splash. I can’t lie here picturing all the pretty that Kate has, not while I’m alone and naked.
I’m already getting hard, and frankly it’s embarrassing. My body is behaving like a teenager.
I wrap a towel around my waist, and walk into the hallway.
Naturally enough, she chooses that moment to make an appearance.
Her eyes go wide as she sees me, and her cheeks flame as she takes me in.
I’m not as fit as I once was, but I still lift iron, and I’m in good shape.
A small smile appears as she gazes at the towel, then she seems to realise what she’s doing and snaps her head back up.
‘Sorry!’ she says. ‘I was just checking you hadn’t drowned!’
‘Nope,’ I reply, wishing she’d go away. ‘Very much alive and kicking.’
‘I see that… um, do you want to come and have a brandy? Or do you want me to give you a massage?’
Hell yes, I think. I want both of those, ideally at the same time. I shake my head firmly. ‘No to the massage. Feeling much better now. I’ll, uh, put some clothes on.’
Her tongue flickers out to lick her lips, and it’s all I can do not to reach out, push her back against the wall, and kiss her. The way she’s looking at me right now, I don’t think she’d object.
‘Okey doke!’ she says brightly, still blushing, but finally leaving. I groan in frustration, and go into my room to get dressed. Possibly say a prayer to the patron saint of horny old men.
I find her curled up on the sofa, glass of brandy in hand, gazing at the fire.
I take the chair opposite with my own drink.
I feel wound up, wary, but alive in a way I haven’t been for so long.
This is a bad idea, but I don’t seem able to shut it down.
I can’t stop looking at her, the way her fingers run over her glass, her bare toes, the swell of her breasts when she breathes. She’s turned me into a goddamn pervert.
‘So,’ she says, glancing away from the fire and into my eyes, ‘Xander asked me out.’
I grip my own glass so hard I’m worried it might shatter. ‘Right. Okay. He seems like a nice guy, and I’m told he’s hot.’
‘He is! Weirdly so – it’s like a Hollywood heartthrob playing the role of a hunky fisherman, isn’t it?’
Fuck. I want to kill him. I just nod. ‘If you say so. You gonna go on a date with him then?’
She seems to consider it, the blush creeping back onto her cheeks. It’s adorable, the way she seems to have no control over it. She thinks it, she shows it. Pretty much the opposite of me. I think it, I bury it.
‘Well, I have been considering it. Last night, what I told you during my drunken stupor… it was true. I haven’t, uh, you know what, for years. Plus like you said earlier, maybe I’ve been doing it with the wrong person.’
I did say that. I was joking, but it looks like she took it as life advice.
‘I was thinking that maybe it was time to try again,’ she continues, twisting her hair around her fingers, looking awkward. ‘And I’m on holiday, a long way from home, in a place where I don’t have to be who I usually am. If that makes any sense?’
‘It does. It’s like you’re on vacation from yourself too.’
‘Exactly! For a man who pretends to be a Neanderthal, Brody, you can be very perceptive…’
I shrug. ‘Don’t let it fool you, Kate. I’m a thug at heart. I just spent a lot of time around women, I guess. So. Xander.’
She frowns, and is obviously nervous. I hope she’s not about to launch into some confession about how she has feelings for him, because that would suck.
If Kate wants to see the man, that’s her business – but I don’t especially want to be her go-to guy for boy talk.
Apart from anything else, that would make me feel like her dad, and the way I feel about her is not exactly paternal.
I’m older than her, sure, but not that much older.
‘Yes. Xander. Well,’ she says, shuffling around and staring into the flames. ‘I realised that although I like the idea of, uh, getting back on the horse, so to speak, he wasn’t the horse I was interested in…’
She pauses. Her tone tells me she hadn’t finished her sentence. Those big hazel eyes keep purposefully looking into the fire, as if it’ll tell her what to say. Then something passes over her face, as if she’s made a decision.
‘That horse is actually you, Brody.’
Her words hit me like an incredibly flattering punch to the gut.
I did not see that coming. Her hands are trembling, and I know it must have taken all her courage to say such a thing.
I’m momentarily stunned by the whole idea, to the point where I’m incapable of cohesive thought, never mind actual speech.
This woman has stirred me up in a way I’d almost forgotten I could be stirred, I can’t deny it.
So much of me wants to lean in to what she said.
Lean in to her. But thinking about doing something and acting on it are worlds apart.
Gentle flirting is one thing. Being her horse is whole next level.
It’s too much responsibility, and I’m not ready.
No matter how much my body says yes, my heart is still hiding in the corner, cowering away from the light. I couldn’t do it to her.
I wait a beat, trying to find the right words to explain all of this.
To reject her without hurting her. Trying not to be moved by the hopeful, haunted look on her face, the way she’s avoiding my eyes.
I can see the tension building in her body, that she’s already regretting what she’s been bold enough to suggest. It’s my fault, I know.
‘Kate,’ I reply eventually, keeping my tone gentle. ‘That’s not a good idea. I’m sorry, but it’s not.’
I have so much more to explain, but that’s all that comes out of my stupid mouth.
All of the air seems to be sucked out of the room, and the only sound is the logs crackling, and the stormy roar of the sea outside.
Shit. She looks devastated. I hate that I’ve hurt her, and there are a million things I should probably be saying right now, all of them variations on ‘it’s not you, it’s me’.
Before I can string a sentence together, she jumps up to her feet, a bright and totally fake smile on her face. She hops around for a few seconds, nodding her head and muttering embarrassed words.
‘Kate, look,’ I begin, standing up beside her. ‘It’s…’
‘It’s okay, Brody. It’s all okay. I don’t know what came over me. Maybe I inhaled some cleaning products earlier. I’m not normally like this, honestly… I’m so, so sorry!’
With that, she runs out of the cottage – still barefoot.