Chapter 27
Maeve had sex with Dane Cruse eleven hours later.
Yes, it came as a shock to her too.
She wasn’t just shocked, though. She was thrilled. Dazzled. Ecstatically happy. And desired.
This hadn’t been her first time, but it had definitely been her first time falling into bed with someone she’d only just met.
That was the thing about watching dozens of videos of someone; it made you feel as if you knew them really well. She was already familiar with every last detail of his eyes, his face, his smile, the way he spoke and moved and danced . . .
And now she was familiar with his entire naked body and how it felt to have sex with him. What a day and what a night this had turned out to be.
She felt elevated, irresistible and invincible. And yes, she couldn’t wait for other people to hear about it. Because at school she’d been teased for never doing anything wrong. Her nickname had been Princess Perfect. She’d worked hard for her excellent exam results and hadn’t got up to the kinds of mischief and shenanigans the rest of her class had. Getting drunk at clubs and parties just hadn’t been her thing. At seventeen, she’d started going out with Liam Grey, who played cricket and belonged to the school chess club and was an all-round good person. After several chaste months, they’d lost their virginity to each other because the time seemed right and they both wanted to get the first time out of the way, then a year later Liam had headed off to Exeter University and they’d decided to call it a day on the relationship.
Theirs had been an amicable break-up and they were still friends on social media, but it was safe to say the sex had never set her soul on fire. It had been a nice enough pastime, otherwise she wouldn’t have carried on sleeping with him, but sometimes, in terms of satisfaction, it had been on a par with being able to fit all the mugs and plates into the dishwasher.
Tonight, though, had shown her how completely thrilling and electrifying sex could be once you found yourself the right man.
Talk about a revelation.
It was four thirty in the morning, dark and silent outside other than the sound of a lone owl hooting from a nearby tree. Lying on her side, all the better to take in the beauty of Dane’s face as he slept, Maeve studied his profile, the perfection of his dark eyebrows and the way his long, straight hair fell across his forehead. His chest was tanned, his jaw was darkened with stubble and he had the most kissable lips she’d ever seen.
The urge to wake him was so intense that she found her hand dancing across his chest, fingertips lightly tickling his torso in search of a reaction. But no, he was properly out for the count, the kind of asleep that meant he might not take kindly to being woken up.
Her tummy rumbled, reminding her that what with the excitement of yesterday, she hadn’t eaten much at all. Plus, last night they’d used up quite a number of extra calories. Pushing back the duvet – so this was how it felt to experience high-thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets – she slid out of bed and wrapped herself in the white towelling robe that was hanging over the back of the chair.
Much like Pine Lodge, Hay Hall had a huge extended kitchen-diner with full-length windows along one side, made private by the high fence separating the two properties. Before they’d come back here last night and headed upstairs to the bedroom, she’d seen Dane’s painting area, with everything he needed to create his artworks, sectioned off by a four-metre-square piece of coated matting laid down to protect the oak floorboards from—
‘Oh, sorry .’ She froze now at the foot of the stairs and the figure at the easel almost dropped his brush.
Swinging round, he stared at her. ‘Jesus, you gave me a fright!’
Maeve hadn’t seen him before, but she’d heard about him from Nella. This was the guy who travelled with Dane and was employed as his personal assistant and videographer.
‘You’re Billy, yes? You work for Dane. I’m Maeve. Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.’
‘Right. Hi. OK.’ Clearly caught off guard, he blocked her view of the easel. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘Nothing, I just woke up hungry and wanted to grab something to eat. Is that all right?’ Making her way over to the fridge, she said, ‘So you’re an artist too?’
‘No, God no, I’m rubbish.’ He shook his head and tilted the easel away from her.
‘Come on,’ Maeve exclaimed, still on a high from her night of sensational sex. ‘Don’t be shy, let me see.’
‘Please, I mean it, I can’t paint at all. I just wanted to try, but it’s so bad it’s embarrassing.’ He turned the canvas over so it was completely hidden from view, then carried the palette and brushes over to one of the sinks. ‘I’ll stick to what I know, making travel arrangements and filming other people.’
He was wearing ancient camouflage trousers and a faded grey T-shirt that showed off his soft belly. He had straggly uncombed hair, a downbeat manner and a face that resembled a King Edward potato. Maeve felt guilty even making this comparison in her head, but it was accurate. Poor guy, he was the complete opposite of his employer. What was more, he didn’t even seem that enthusiastic about working for Dane. Didn’t he appreciate how lucky he was to have the best job in the world? Given the chance, she’d be there like a shot.
‘You’ve got green paint in your hair.’ She pointed to be helpful. ‘Better wash it out if you don’t want Dane to know what you’ve been up to.’
‘I’ll do it before he wakes up.’ He frowned as she crossed to the oven and switched on the grill. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Cheese on toast.’ She finished slicing effortlessly through a small block of vintage Cheddar and reached for the pepper grinder. ‘Want some?’
After a moment, he said, ‘Go on, then. Thanks.’
Maeve grinned at him. And it wasn’t only going to be the cheese getting grilled; now she could ask Billy-the-assistant loads of questions and find out more about Dane Cruse.
Two hours later Dane opened his eyes. He blinked slowly, then said, ‘I woke up and you were gone. Now you’re back. Where’ve you been?’
‘The whole story?’ Maeve slipped back into bed beside him, naked once more. By mutual agreement, she and Billy had decided there was no need to mention their pre-dawn encounter in the kitchen. ‘I went home and had a shower, then changed into my work clothes and collected my cleaning basket from the office. After that, I spent thirty minutes cleaning Lizzie’s place, then another thirty minutes doing yours. Which means I now have a free hour to do . . . whatever I want.’ She reached across and gave him a lingering kiss.
‘I like the sound of that.’ His smile lazy, he trailed his fingers along her collarbone, then pulled her closer. ‘Can we do what I want as well?’
‘Maybe we both want the same thing.’ Maeve was giddy with joy; right now, the coming days, weeks and months shimmered with possibilities. She’d never experienced anything like it before, but knew she wanted more. Was this what love felt like? She planted another kiss on Dane’s perfect mouth and said, ‘You never know.’
Yesterday’s rain had passed and today was set to be sunny and warm. Teddy, having trotted on ahead as Matthew made his way along the familiar curving path through the churchyard, was now waiting at Amanda’s graveside for him to catch up.
He’d cut pale pink roses from the garden. They’d always been her favourite, and he liked to imagine her being extra pleased when he brought them to brighten her grave. Last evening, on his way back from the impromptu party at Pine Lodge, he’d come here to tell her the mind-blowing story of the part Lizzie Rafferty had played in their lives.
‘Hi, me again. You know, it’s still sinking in.’ He crouched down to arrange the roses in their holder as best he could; it wasn’t one of his talents, but hopefully the beauty of the flowers made up for it. ‘And guess what I did when I got home last night? I watched two of her films. I know, I can’t believe it either. I rented Welcome to the Old Days first, the one she was filming with Zac Meadows when she saw us on TV. And obviously it wasn’t my kind of thing, but she was still really good in it. Then I watched Meet Me at Midnight and actually enjoyed it. What’s the world coming to, eh?’ Picturing his wife’s reaction, he found himself smiling. ‘It’s a top film. So after that , I went onto YouTube and watched an interview she did last year on a chat show over in LA. And you know what? She was great, really funny and modest and not up herself at all. Turns out she’s completely different to how I thought—’
Teddy barked and wagged his tail as they both heard approaching footsteps. Turning, Matthew saw Faith Addis, Esme’s sister-in-law, heading his way. Faith was another regular visitor to the churchyard, her husband, Rob, having died of heart failure as a result of cardiomyopathy eighteen months ago. She wasn’t carrying any flowers today, but there was a tissue in her left hand. As she drew closer, he saw that she was crying.
He gave a sympathetic nod and said, ‘Not a good day?’
Faith wiped her cheeks with the already damp and crumpled tissue. ‘I don’t know what counts as a good day any more. Wouldn’t know what it feels like.’
‘It’ll get easier.’ They were both used to hearing it; this was the standard response from people who didn’t know what else to say. Matthew watched as a blackbird flew down and collected a dry twig for its nest. It gave Teddy a beady look then flew off again before the dog had time to react.
‘But what if it doesn’t?’ said Faith.
‘It will. Eventually.’
‘Go on then, how long before that happens? How long since your wife died?’ She glanced at the dates on Mandy’s headstone and answered her own question. ‘OK, so it’s been two years or so. Does that mean you’re over it now?’
Mildly offended, Matthew said, ‘Of course I’m not over it.’
‘I’m seven months behind you, and I’m sick of finding it so hard. I just want to stop feeling miserable and it seems like that’s never going to happen.’ A tear rolled down one cheek and dripped off her chin.
‘It will get easier, though.’ God, listen to him trotting out the same old words; couldn’t he come up with something more original?
She gave him a desperate look. ‘Is it easier for you? Or are you just saying that?’
‘It’s true.’ He didn’t even know if it was.
Faith narrowed her eyes at him. ‘So have you met someone else? Is that why?’
‘No.’
‘Been out on any dates yet?’
‘None.’
‘People are telling you to do that, are they?’
‘Oh yes.’
‘Of course they are. And I bet you’ve been asked out plenty of times, too.’
Reluctantly Matthew nodded. The single and divorced women in the area had been making their interest known for the last year. Some – the brave ones – had asked him out themselves. The rest got their friends to do it on their behalf.
‘Not tempted to even give it a try?’
He shook his head and checked his watch. ‘No, but it happens to different people at different times. Look, sorry, I need to get home. I have an online meeting and can’t be late.’ This was a fib, but he wanted to get away from her now.
‘Off you go. Thanks for the chat, anyway.’ Faith managed a brief smile and stuffed the damp tissue back into her pocket. ‘It really helps to know we’re both going through the same crappy thing.’
‘Good.’
‘It must be nice having Maeve at home with you.’
Matthew shrugged. ‘Of course it is.’
‘When she goes off to university,’ Faith’s tone was sorrowful, ‘you’re going to miss her so much .’