29. Faye
29
FAYE
It was safe to say Faye had never had a Christmas like this. One ending with a whole happy family circled around a steadily burning fire pit, lit with “smokeless” cinder blocks and odd bits of twig from the garden. Above them, the slatted awning twinkled with strings of fairy lights swaying with the tide of the breeze.
The girls, bundled in their coats and hats and scarves, sat cross legged upon cushions and squinted at the books in their laps whilst the adults sipped on wine and whisky. She’d video called both sets of her parents separately in the morning and witnessed pretty much the same sight.
Faye didn’t know exactly what had been said in that dining room, but Mortimer left in what was likely the country’s most expensive taxi today soon after, heading for the nearest hotel that could check him in on Christmas Day.
The grim lull had hung, but then the girls had come in, singing and dancing with bowls of trifle in their hands, and the room had taken a breath.
Being here again on this patio Arthur had fashioned in the corner between the annexe and the house only made Faye remember how Bash overheard her last night. Her guilt didn’t sting quite so much anym ore, but still lingered in the recesses of her heart.
To have that weight of her secret finally off of her chest had been freeing. But that weightless feeling had quickly come back down to settle like a rock in her stomach.
Bash had lied to her as well, though she’d realised her initial reaction had been too much. Merely hearing “America” and Bash’s name in the same sentence had set her on edge, made her pounding heart jump to conclusions – all of which put Faye right back at the start of fearing she’d lose him. Not to a few hours of driving but to halfway around the world instead.
A lie was a lie, but she’d known Bash for long enough to trust he hadn’t meant to hurt her. Him and Freddy were in fact probably the only two men in her life who’d never added any scars to her heart – her father had spent years of overcompensation to make up for his.
Though Faye didn’t give herself any slack for omitting her secret, either. Because she had hurt Bash, and he’d forgiven her far too easily.
She didn’t know why she’d even tried to persuade him that what he was looking for in his life might be out there a plane ride away. And all that he’d done? He’d looked right at her and said, “She’s not,” with certainty. How on earth was she supposed to decipher the meaning of that?
Then he’d given her his Christmas gift. Faye couldn’t believe what he’d done: made a beautiful model of her bakery by hand. Though she appreciated the gestures, she didn’t want him spending his money on her, and looking at the brand of those stuffed pastries he’d also generously given to her, he’d spent a fair bit on them.
But the model had taken months. Three of them. He’d put hours and hours of his time into the gift and just from the detail Faye saw how much care he’d put into it. That was so much more precious to her th an if he’d bought out an entire shop full of those plushies.
She’s not.
Bash had looked at her in the same way as when he’d protected her and pressed her up against that hedge – hooded eyes serious in their blue depths. Faye’s heart had fallen over itself last night thinking he would march forwards, wrap his arm around her and kiss her senseless.
She shuddered as the picture of his face in that moment danced through her thoughts, and of course, Bash noticed the tremble of her body.
“Come here, keep warm.”
“I’m fine,” she tried to say but found herself being pulled into his lap upon the cushioned bench anyway.
“Maybe I’m cold,” Bash argued, though Faye doubted it. With another thin falling of snow in the afternoon settled on the ground, he was wrapped up in his padded jacket and orange beanie, cheeks nice and rosy.
The fire burned a welcoming warmth and everyone had faux fur blankets draped across their knees. Arthur and Michèle looked rather snuggly beneath theirs, as did Matt and Saira. She and Bash were the only ones not bundled together like loved up teenagers.
“You’re never cold.” She arched her brow teasingly.
“Maybe that’s because you’re here,” Bash said and Faye’s lungs forgot how to function.
How could he look at her like this and say that? Didn’t he know not to play with a woman’s heart this way? There was no smile or flash of mischief in his eyes to say he said these things for the fun of it – Bash never said something he didn’t mean.
She’s not .
The shudder that began this wasn’t because she’d been cold. Her hands were a little rigid and her nose was frosty … but Faye didn’t need Bash’s warmth. She just wanted him .
Whatever had changed between them was quickly digressing from harmless flir ting and Faye was unprepared for it. She let him settle her in his lap, her back against one side of his chest as he wrapped the shared blanket around her, followed by his arms.
This was more intimate than any way they’d ever sat before. It’s just to keep warm, Faye repeated internally, though they could easily go back inside to the actual heat.
All of her thoughts went directly to the sensation of her ass quite literally meeting Bash’s crotch where her mind had wandered far too much lately. When she looked at him these days, it was with the same eyes as the smitten girl she’d been when they’d first met.
Bash had never held her like this before, steady breaths warming down her neck and tickling the tiny hairs there. Easily, she could lean back, close her eyes, and fall asleep right where she was knowing that when she woke up, he’d still be here, and he’d still be holding her like this.
There was little choice but to look towards the log burning chiminea and the pinpricks of golden embers rising against the blackened backdrop of the landscape, to where hills of farmland dipped beyond the lawn.
Faye didn’t have one thought of London or Manchester or her bakery. She couldn’t even recall if she’d checked her phone today after sending Christmas wishes to her family and friends in the morning.
Right then, Faye was exactly where she wanted to be in the arms of the man she wanted to be with, and she didn’t want to leave.
“Smile, you two!” She dragged her eyes to where Michèle pointed the camera of her phone in front of her beaming face in their direction. “Faye’s first Christmas with us.”
All of the heat in Faye’s body rushed away from her vitals and gathered in her cheeks. She tried to sit up and move away because hello, this was not how friends sat with one another, but Bash’s arms circling her came down tighter .
Michèle was oblivious to all of the bulging eyes. “What? It is,” she said as if there was no subtext beneath that particular prior statement. First being the ominous word.
“She’ll be inviting you for Easter, next,” Bash whispered in her ear, which was enough to make Faye chuff away a fraction of her awkwardness.
She smiled for however many photos Michèle took of them both. There were a few, given how many times Michèle tilted and changed the angle of her phone. Faye wondered if next year there would be a new frame upon the living room cabinets. Maybe she would be in it?
Whilst it was everyone else’s turn for a photoshoot, she relaxed back into the warmth of the wide chest behind her. Bash adjusted the position of his hips so she was right in the centre of his lap with his chin settled on top of her head, which only made Faye worry she’d weighed him down for too long.
“Should I get up?” she asked quietly, not wanting him to lose feeling in his legs.
“No.” Bash’s fingers began to stroke back and forth in the fur of the blanket and Faye could feel the movement along her ribs through her coat. “Do you want to?”
Her chest expanded as she tried to process an answer. This didn’t feel like they were talking about their seating arrangement anymore.
“No,” she answered honestly.
Bash’s shoulders shifted in a shrug. “Then stay.”
Her body moved. She moved, though her feet weren’t on the ground. Nor were her eyes open.
“Wh—” Faye began to ask where she was going, but the ability to open her mouth evaded her.
“You fell asleep,” the voice by her head said softly .
“I fell … sleep?” she slurred.
Peeling her eyes open and blinking slowly, dimly lit pictures and paintings moved past her face. The jostling was like they were going up stairs.
A quiet chuckle reverberated in the chest pressed against her cheek. “Yes, you did.”
“F’how long?”
“Less than an hour, maybe,” Bash said quietly. “It’s after eleven and we’re all turning in.”
“Oh … okay.”
Another few amused puffs of air caressed the crown of her head.
Faye closed her eyes and let herself be carried wherever she was going, then light lit up the back of her eyelids and she whined.
“Here, let’s get you out of this.” Bash sat her down on the edge of their bed. Gentle hands peeled her out of her shoes and then her coat one sleeve at a time, and Faye wiggled on her bum to get it out from under her. Her eyes couldn’t stay open for more than a blink.
There was a quick draw of a zip and then Bash hung both of their coats up in the narrow wardrobe. “I’m going to get changed in the bathroom.”
“Need help.”
“Erm … ”
“Meant me.” Faye lifted her arms but they fell back down again with how heavy they were. Bash’s teeth showed through the way his mouth widened and she went all gooey inside. “You have a pretty smile.”
Could she honestly be blamed for the things she said when she was tired?
“Do I?” His eyes were so soft. Like two woolly clouds Faye could poke her fingers right into and barely feel anything at all.
“Mm-hmm.” How much had she drunk of that wine outside? She shouldn’t be this woozy from tiredness alone .
“You said I have a nice ass, too.” And the ego in Bash’s voice believed it.
Faye squinted at him. “Did I say that?”
He chuckled beautifully too, like he couldn’t resist showing his teeth or scrunching up his nose. The creases by his eyes were so pretty – Faye didn’t know why people would ever not like them on themselves.
“Yes, Peanut. Last night.”
“ Ohhhh .” Ah, yes. She remembered then, too dazed to be embarrassed about it. Tiredness, a full stomach, and the cold fresh air had hit her hard this evening.
“Let’s just get you out of this jumper,” Bash said, shaking his head at her. “You can fall asleep to thoughts about my ass, later.”
“Okay.” Faye curled her fingers into the cream jumper she’d worn for the family dinner, which in hindsight was a silly idea when gravy was involved, and lazily lifted.
Bash disappeared behind her, and from the sounds of rustling, found her pyjamas under her pillow.
Faye held the jumper up against her chest. Maybe this whole getting undressed with him thing wasn’t so much of a good idea – she hadn’t even worn her fancy bra. Just some wireless thing which was pure comfort and zero sexiness.
When Bash returned, body angled sideways, he offered out the cropped white vest she’d slept in last night.
“You’ve seen me naked already.” One handedly, she took the top. “You don’t need to look away.”
“I didn’t exactly have your permission last time.”
Faye’s head spun at how much he still cared about that, and then with the question: did he want her permission?
Did he know how considerate he was? He’d always been that way so she almost stopped noticing how he held open doors, walked on the side of the pavement nearest the road, and always checked she was okay. Was he the same way too in bed?
Woah. Okay, she needed sleep. And she needed it now before she added to her l ist of ramblings and admitted that she was in love with him as well.
“You’re a good guy, Bash.” The corner of his lip curved at her observation, even if his eyes were still drawn to the floor. “I’m proud of whatever you said to stand up to your uncle earlier,” Faye added.
The edge of his gaze flittered in her direction, that smile on the corner of his lips tugging higher. “Thanks, Peanut.”
Bash moved around the bed again though to his side that time, and Faye followed him with her eyes like a flower craving the sun. He pulled clean full-length pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt from his luggage and disappeared to the bathroom like he’d said he would. With a resound click, light glowed around the edges of the door.
She finished changing into her pyjamas and for the next ten minutes they executed a well rehearsed dance around each other they’d nailed down to perfection, swapping turns in the bathroom. Bash was already in the bed and curled towards her side of it when she slid underneath the duvet.
Was it strange to think that after a couple of nights, Faye now thought of each half as their respective “sides”? That was the least of her problems, because she realised there wasn’t a reason for them to share a room anymore …
The annexe was empty. Bash could easily go downstairs and have that bed all to himself. Surely he must have realised it too?
But he’d stayed …
His eyes opened as she settled her head upon her pillow, laying curled on her side. With the light from the lamps on their nightstands, those eyes looked far greener than they were blue. A sparkling kind of tired. He’d washed his face and the water had dampened the line of his hair.
“We’re going home tomorrow,” she said, her voice soft in the short space between them. More awake now than when she’d been carried up here .
Yet the thought of going home didn’t excite her as much as it could have.
Bash’s features held little anticipation either. “Yeah … I hope you’ve had fun, Faye. I know that my family can be … ” Whatever he would’ve said, he replaced it with a breathy grin. Faye resisted reaching out her fingers and brushing away the curl of his hair that’d fallen to his brow.
“Your family is lovely. I’ve had a wonderful time. Thank you.”
His slow blink and shallow nod was all the acknowledgement she needed.
Some strange ominous feeling that something was coming to an end loomed in Faye’s chest like a tiny weight. She wasn’t sure why. When they left tomorrow, they would still be them. They’d still be Bash and Faye. Only … she somehow felt like things weren’t going to be the same.
“I’ve not looked at any of my work texts or emails today,” she added, realising that it was true. For the first time, she’d truly let go of the reins and relaxed.
“That’s good. How do you feel?” Bash shifted on his pillow and maybe it was Faye’s eyes deceiving her in the bedroom’s half light, but he was closer then.
“I like it. I’ve liked not worrying.”
“I’ve liked you not worrying, too.”
Faye snuggled down, moving closer as well, her heart aching to stay in this bubble as she said, “All of these Christmassy feelings and traditions will be gone tomorrow.”
Bash hummed and went quiet for a long moment. A thought looked to be on the tip of his tongue.
“There’s still time,” he eventually said, his smooth voice deeper than before. “For the one that you missed.”
Faye’s brow pinched. “For what one that I missed?”
“Your first mistletoe kiss … ”