CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ANGIE
There’s a spring in my step this morning.
Just the thought of spending another blissful day with Tommy sends goosebumps over my skin, although at some point, I will have to go home.
I’ve taken a few days off to be here, but I have a business to run and can’t leave Chris to do all the work alone, although he was rather keen on me taking this holiday and working from home.
I haven’t been back to the office since I stormed out.
Still, it’s not fair, and I know time is ticking down until I have to leave this safe bubble Tommy has created for us.
The boys are singing downstairs, which means Connie must already have them up.
I overslept a little today after the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a while, but all of a sudden, I feel like a terrible mother.
Connie has been a great help to me lately, and Josh loves her, but I don’t want to stop doing the simple things for Josh I’ve always done, like making his breakfast and getting him up in the morning.
I fly downstairs, wrapping my silk dressing gown around me as I go. When I get there, it isn’t Connie making the boys' breakfast with their favourite Disney songs blaring from the speakers, but Tommy.
“Hey, here’s Mummy, Josh,” Tommy says with a frying pan in his hand.
“Hi, Mum.” Josh runs towards me until he’s close enough to sweep up for a cuddle. “How’s my boy this morning?” I ask, hugging him close.
“Good. Uncle Tommy is making breakfast.” He beams before he breaks free from my hold.
“How did you sleep?” Tommy asks, his fingertips brushing mine as he passes. My stomach flips in response.
“Great, actually. I didn’t mean to get up this late.”
“I thought you could do with the lie-in. Ozzie and Josh woke early, so we came down here for a Disney rock-out. Right, kids?”
The little ones are dancing around the room, giggling their heads off. I love watching them in their own happy little worlds. It makes me smile.
“Where’s Connie this morning?” I ask.
“Yoga class. I told her to take some time for herself.”
“Mummy, can I go in the sandpit with Ozzie?” Josh tugs on my jeans.
“Yes! Please, Angie,” Ozzie squeals.
“If I drag it to the back door, we can keep an eye on them,” I say, looking over my shoulder at Tommy.
“I’ve got it,” he replies. Placing his pan on the hob, he leaps out of the door, picks up the bright green plastic sandpit, and has it settled down on the decking before I’m able to offer some help.
The boys dive in, still in their pyjamas.
Who cares? If you can’t sit in the sandpit in your PJs when you’re five years old, when can you?
“Pancakes? Coffee? Tea?” Tommy calls from inside while I watch the boys play. He’s already back on breakfast duty.
“Coffee please, and those pancakes smell gorgeous.”
Tommy meets me as I step back into the kitchen.
His arms circle my waist as he nuzzles into my neck.
“You are gorgeous,” he says while he softly kisses all the way down to my shoulder.
Goosebumps ripple across my skin at his words and his eyes burn towards me when he straightens up.
He gives me the same look as the one he gave me last night which led to shivers over my body and a tingling sensation between my legs.
His top lip curls up at the side while he steps back as if he’s trying to restrain himself.
“I’d better get back to cooking.” He smirks.
Bloody hell. This man is on fire. I only wish I had the opportunity to douse his flames.
Breakfast is beautiful and Tommy is spoiling us rotten.
We call the boys inside, and I help them wash their hands while Tommy plates up chocolate ice cream and bananas on their pancakes.
This is a recipe for a hyperactive child disaster, but because I’m so happy to see Josh enjoying himself, I let it go.
I also enjoy watching Tommy in his simple black jeans and black linen shirt, which is open almost to his navel. He’s hotter than hell this morning.
I have blueberries and Greek yogurt with my breakfast, and it’s out of this world. Is it the way he cooks or just that this man can’t put a foot wrong where I’m concerned? Even the coffee tastes as if it were just ground.
“Anything else to eat or drink?” Tommy asks, snapping me from my hazy thoughts.
“Oh, no.” I half smile. “I’m okay, thank you.”
Finally, Tommy sits down next to me with his own stack of pancakes.
“Oh my God, is that bacon and maple syrup?” I ask.
“Yeah, I have it all the time in the States.”
“I think you’ve been living there too long.” I reach over and brush the palm of his hand with my fingers. “In fact, I wouldn’t bother going back. Ever,” I whisper.
Tommy leans over the table, focusing on my lips. “Hmm, maybe I won’t.”
My cheeks heat with the appearance of his suggestive smile. How does he do that to me?
I sit back in my chair and fan my face with my napkin. Tommy glances at me from the corner of his eye and smirks. “So, what do you want to do today?” If only we could stay in our bubble forever.
“As much as I don’t want to, Josh and I should go home.”
“But you only just got here.”
“I know it feels that way.” I sigh at the thought of leaving him. “But we have been here all weekend, Tom.”
“Yeah, I know, but there are still a few piranhas outside your house. It’s not safe.”
“The thing is—” I scratch my forehead. “I should really visit the office and I’m sure you’ve had enough of me being here.”
He stops eating and looks directly into my eyes. “No. I could never have enough of you.”
His statement swipes the breath from my body. Jesus, I’m so conflicted. I don’t want to go home, not really, but I have to keep my finger on the pulse where the business is concerned and I still have to face Chris, although Tommy is one hell of a sexy distraction.
“I’m sorry, Tom. Maybe we could pick up again in a few days?”
He stands from his seat, not bothering to finish his food. Instead, he clears his plate away. His brows raise. “Okay, if you really want to go, that’s fine, but can I ask something?”
“You know you can.”
He turns around and leans against the sink to face me. “Is it that you want to go, or do you feel you should?”
He’s more perceptive than I thought. “I feel I should,” I finally confess with a half-smile, while Tommy folds his arms.
“Why? You do more than your fair share and Chris would understand the reasons you’re not there, especially after he caught that journalist snooping around the showroom.”
“I know.”
“So, what’s going on? There’s more to this, Angie. I can sense it.”
I’m apprehensive to say the least, we agreed to be honest about everything. “You’re right.” I huff out the deep breath I’ve been holding. “There is more.” I squeeze the bridge of my nose. “It’s my duty to look after Scott’s legacy. I can’t let him down.”
“What happened to starting again and trying not to feel guilty about everything.”
“I can’t help it.”
“Hey.” He pushes himself away from the sink and takes a step forward. Lifting my chin so my eyes meet his own, he says, “Scott would be proud of you.” He kisses my forehead and I instantly feel a little better.
“All I want is for Josh to have the option to run his dad’s business when he’s older if that’s what he wants, which is why I have to keep going.”
“You shouldn’t put so much pressure on yourself,” he half smiles.
But if I don’t—”
Tommy nods, “Yeah, I know. You’re worried you’ll drop the ball. So, how about a compromise? I’ll get Andrew to take you in for a few hours, just to see how it’s going, but then if you grab your laptop, you can stay here and work from home whenever you want.”
Thank God he understands. “You don’t mind?” I stare at the floor and Tommy crouches a little to catch my eye.
“I’m going to level with you now.”
“Okay,” I say, meeting his gaze.
“I don’t want the paps bugging you when I’m not next door anymore. If you go home, I’ll have a hard time sleeping at night. If you stay here, I know you’re safe.”
“Ahh, the old emotional blackmail.” I giggle.
His hand sweeps around my waist and my body is flush against his. “I have to stop you from running away somehow. Stay with me, Angie.”
My heart is racing with excitement. He has an answer for everything, which pushes us along at just the right speed. “I’d like that.” The thought of going back to an empty house doesn’t exactly thrill me anyway.
“Good.” Our eyes make contact again, but this time, Tommy seems to ask permission, but permission for what? As he comes closer, it all becomes apparent. His gentle lush lips brush like velvet over mine, and I open up to him as if it’s second nature. Tommy Graham kisses like a god.
It’s later in the day when I call into the showroom.
Andrew is wearing blue jeans, a navy polo shirt, and tan brogues in the hope his casual look will help him blend in with any customers looking around.
However, he still insists on checking outside every hour so he can monitor who is coming in and out of the building.
Chris is happy to see me, which I’m relieved about. It’s our first meeting in the flesh since our argument. The thing that’s bothering me is the few people milling around the showroom who stop to stare. It’s unnerving, and I’m relieved when we go into the back office instead.
I sit down with Chris, and he gives me an update about ongoing jobs and orders, although there have been several cancellations in the last few days. Big ones.
“Why didn’t you let me know about this before?” I ask him.
“You were stressed the last time you came in and since then, you’ve had a fair amount of media attention. I thought you needed a break, and I didn’t want to worry you. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Still, that’s a lot of labour and materials down the drain.” The factory had assembled orders, and they were ready to install. As our kitchens are bespoke, it’s difficult to sell them on.