27. Lucky dip fucking? #3
Greta’s smile lit up her face as she pressed her lips to Dylan’s skin.
Whatever exhaustion Greta had been carrying seemed to melt away, replaced by the excitement of seeing her.
Out of the corner of her eye, Dylan noticed an old couple whispering and staring at them with judging eyes, but Greta hadn’t paid any attention to them, so neither did she.
She slowly let Greta slide down the front of her body until Greta's feet met the floor, keeping her close as their lips met, their smiles pressed together.
Greta held Dylan’s chin, their gazes locked. ‘I’ve missed you so fucking much.’
‘Home?’ Dylan said, as Greta leaned back in her arms.
‘Anywhere. As long as you’re with me.’
Dylan drove them home in Ingrid. Greta’s hand firmly clasped over Dylan’s the entire way.
***
Greta dropped her keys onto the hall console table, as Dylan followed closely behind with her luggage.
She picked up the mail Dylan had left out, shuffling through the envelopes and mentally sorting them by importance.
Deciding that was a job for future Greta, she huffed out a breath of air, threw the pile back down and walked down the hall.
‘Can I get you anything, G?’ Dylan called from the kitchen.
Smiling, Greta watched as Dylan tucked a bottle of milk into the fridge door and moved toward her. ‘No thanks, Dyl.’
‘Shall I run you a bath?’
‘No, I need a shower. There’s nothing like long-haul to make you feel filthy.’
‘Okidoke,’ Dylan replied, her smile still as bright as it had been at the airport.
Greta hooked her index fingers into Dylan’s belt loops to pull her close; Dylan’s arms slid around her waist. ‘Speaking of filthy…why don’t you join me?’ Her tone was low and sexy.
Dylan groaned. ‘I have to leave at seven-ish. Pri needs to go at eight. I couldn’t afford to book her for the night, but she’s watching some antique shows and Corrie with Margs for a couple of hours while I picked you up.
’ Her brows furrowed as she drew in a sharp breath.
‘Things are really tight at the minute. I’m going to have to start picking up some online tutoring sessions or something…
I need some extra cash. The cup runneth dry.
’ She gave a humourless chuckle. ‘I don’t know how the fuck I’m going to fit it all in, but I’ll just have to make it work.
But it does mean that me and you time might take a hit. ’ She winced. ‘I’m sorry, G.’
Greta tried to keep the sinking feeling in her gut off her expression as she checked the time. A week apart and they couldn’t steal more than sixty minutes together. As the idea of even less time with Dylan sank in, her disappointed sigh was almost deafening.
‘I can’t bear this, Dyl.’
‘I know, G.’ Dylan pushed Greta’s loose waves over her shoulder with the back of her hand. Her splayed fingers ran down Greta’s back, pulling her closer. ‘It won’t be like this forever. I promise.’ She dipped to snag Greta’s gaze. ‘You know that, don’t you?’
Greta kissed her. She believed Dylan; she knew their circumstances wouldn't always pull them in different directions, but she couldn’t bury the gnawing feeling that they were wasting time. Her hands smoothed down the fabric covering Dylan’s chest.
‘Remember when you said I was a U-hauler?’
Dylan narrowed her eyes. ‘Are you jet-lagged? Drunk? Were you on the Veuve Clicquot on the flight?’ She leaned in to sniff Greta’s breath.
‘Get off,’ Greta chuckled, leaning back and playfully batting Dylan away. ‘Hear me out.’ Her fingers fiddled with the edges of the tag on Dylan’s jacket. ‘I was thinking while I was away. Well, before then, actually…’
‘Oookaaay,’ Dylan stretched the word suspiciously.
‘I’m going to sell this place.’
‘What? You can’t—’
‘Why can’t I?’
‘I mean…’ Dylan hesitated for a second. ‘Well, you can do as you please, it’s your flat, but—’
‘But nothing, Dylan.’
Dylan frowned as she scanned Greta’s face. ‘Don’t do anything because of my situation. That’s not the right thing to do, G. I don’t want or need that.’
‘This isn’t because of you, Dyl. I have been thinking about this for months. I don’t want to be here alone anymore…it’s so empty and hollow.’
Dylan jerked her closer. ‘What will happen? Where will you go if it all happens quickly?’
‘Didsbury,’ Greta replied quickly, as if it were a fait accompli. ‘My parents' house. They’re already on board…and I have a couple of viewings here next week, so...’
‘Oh, fuck. So it’s a done thing then?’
‘My dad’s already planning to paint my old room.’
‘God, I love that man,’ Dylan gushed.
‘He loves you too.’ Greta beamed.
‘So you’ll be just down the road from me?’ Dylan said coyly, slowly swaying Greta from side to side.
‘I will.’ Greta ran her hands over Dylan’s biceps, closing her eyes briefly as she inhaled. ‘And… I was thinking that I would stay with Mum and Dad until you and I have made some decisions.’
Dylan stiffened, her voice dropping an octave. ‘Decisions? G, I can’t move Mum.’
‘I’m not asking you to move, or to move Margaret,’ Greta corrected, kissing the tip of Dylan’s nose. ‘I’m asking you to move me.’
Dylan searched her face, her own expression blank. ‘Can you explain this to me like I’m five years old, please? I’m so confused.’
Greta chuckled and moved some of Dylan's curly fringe to the side. ‘I’m asking you and Margaret to allow me to move in. Maybe I could invest some money in the house? A private annex for Margaret, perhaps. We could look at boosting her care package.’
Dylan just stared, blinking quickly. Greta suddenly wished she could take back the words and swallow them, they felt so enormous said out loud.
‘I can’t let you spend… I mean… You can’t. Why would you do that?’ Dylan asked softly.