signals, and just like that my brain was in overdrive
again. The house cleaning was laborious but cathartic and I loved how the place
looked when I finished. The dust and cobwebs that had accumulated over the past
few weeks were gone and I was proud of the place. Everything had been put away
and I’d dotted pictures of me and Alice in happy times around every room. In
some ways it felt like she was still here. “Come on then, boy,” I slapped my
thighs and Dart came bounding over. Last night’s storm had cleared the skies
and there was time for a good walk before dinner.
Sam’s note had had my head
buzzing all day. Sweetheart? It certainly felt like he was interested last
night. I’d had friendly innocuous kisses at every opportunity but when it came
to the crunch he had backed off. Maybe friends was all
it was destined to be. Was it a friendly kiss on the note or was it more? Was
he just being kind, trying to lessen my humiliation because we lived in near
isolation and it would be as awkward as arse if we couldn’t get past this?
Either way, I sure as hell wasn’t putting myself on the line to be humiliated
again. I would be cool, calm and collected I decided, throwing the ball down
the beach for Dart to retrieve. The only obstacle to that plan was that it was more
easily said than done.
Having walked almost all the way
down to the brigg and back, it was gone six when I
returned to the house. I showered, drying my hair into long gentle curls and
dressed, deciding on casual jeans and a sweater. Only my heels and small
diamond studs indicated I had made any effort at all for my neighbourly
encounter I thought, as I made my way to the kitchen door and knocked, waiting
for him to answer. Except in circumstances of extreme weather I wasn’t in the
habit of letting myself into other people’s homes, unlike some.
His welcoming smile was dazzling
as he bent to kiss my cheek and I caught the familiar scent which made my
stomach flip. This was not going to be easy. He’d already made a start boiling
the water for the pasta and a pan of sauce was warming gently next to it. “I’ve
done the honours,” he smiled, handing me a chilled glass of white wine.
“Thank you, Sam, it smells scrumptious. I’m
impressed. Is it homemade?” I quizzed, wondering if he had spent the afternoon
chopping mushrooms, tomatoes, onions and garlic.
“Yes, just not by me,” he winked,
the ensuing laugh easing the tension.
“Well I’m still impressed,” I
smiled as he added the pasta to the bubbling water.
“I hope you are when you’ve tasted it. I’ve
got Mr Hongs menu on standby if not,” he smiled, moving closer. Despite craving
the proximity and ignoring my instincts to go towards him, I took a step
backwards. I was going to have to be careful. I couldn’t tell if he was doing
it on purpose, playing with me, or whether he really didn’t realise the effect
he was having. Both options seemed unlikely.
“Sit down, Rose” he gestured at the pre set
table, “I think it’s almost ready,” and I was struck by how impossibly cute and
out of place he looked, continually checking his watch to time the pasta. If I
wasn’t mistaken it was an Omega which looked seriously cool against the dark
hairs of his olive forearms. I recognised it from Bond and it had probably cost
more than my car.
The watch, the Vanquish, mission
HQ in the next room. Yes, I could definitely picture him as a spy, all dark,
brooding, mysterious and dangerous and I couldn’t help but drink in the sight
of him as he drained the pasta with his back to me, hard muscles flexing under
dark skin.
So much for the rules I had set
myself tonight. I’d already broken the no ogling one, quickly deciding that as
he hadn’t seen me it didn’t count. “Shit,” he scowled, flustered as the boiling
liquid splashed his exposed arms, pulling me from my thoughts.
“You’re a liability in the
kitchen, Sam,” I laughed and embarked on my mission to know
again. The house cleaning was laborious but cathartic and I loved how the place
looked when I finished. The dust and cobwebs that had accumulated over the past
few weeks were gone and I was proud of the place. Everything had been put away
and I’d dotted pictures of me and Alice in happy times around every room. In
some ways it felt like she was still here. “Come on then, boy,” I slapped my
thighs and Dart came bounding over. Last night’s storm had cleared the skies
and there was time for a good walk before dinner.
Sam’s note had had my head
buzzing all day. Sweetheart? It certainly felt like he was interested last
night. I’d had friendly innocuous kisses at every opportunity but when it came
to the crunch he had backed off. Maybe friends was all
it was destined to be. Was it a friendly kiss on the note or was it more? Was
he just being kind, trying to lessen my humiliation because we lived in near
isolation and it would be as awkward as arse if we couldn’t get past this?
Either way, I sure as hell wasn’t putting myself on the line to be humiliated
again. I would be cool, calm and collected I decided, throwing the ball down
the beach for Dart to retrieve. The only obstacle to that plan was that it was more
easily said than done.
Having walked almost all the way
down to the brigg and back, it was gone six when I
returned to the house. I showered, drying my hair into long gentle curls and
dressed, deciding on casual jeans and a sweater. Only my heels and small
diamond studs indicated I had made any effort at all for my neighbourly
encounter I thought, as I made my way to the kitchen door and knocked, waiting
for him to answer. Except in circumstances of extreme weather I wasn’t in the
habit of letting myself into other people’s homes, unlike some.
His welcoming smile was dazzling
as he bent to kiss my cheek and I caught the familiar scent which made my
stomach flip. This was not going to be easy. He’d already made a start boiling
the water for the pasta and a pan of sauce was warming gently next to it. “I’ve
done the honours,” he smiled, handing me a chilled glass of white wine.
“Thank you, Sam, it smells scrumptious. I’m
impressed. Is it homemade?” I quizzed, wondering if he had spent the afternoon
chopping mushrooms, tomatoes, onions and garlic.
“Yes, just not by me,” he winked,
the ensuing laugh easing the tension.
“Well I’m still impressed,” I
smiled as he added the pasta to the bubbling water.
“I hope you are when you’ve tasted it. I’ve
got Mr Hongs menu on standby if not,” he smiled, moving closer. Despite craving
the proximity and ignoring my instincts to go towards him, I took a step
backwards. I was going to have to be careful. I couldn’t tell if he was doing
it on purpose, playing with me, or whether he really didn’t realise the effect
he was having. Both options seemed unlikely.
“Sit down, Rose” he gestured at the pre set
table, “I think it’s almost ready,” and I was struck by how impossibly cute and
out of place he looked, continually checking his watch to time the pasta. If I
wasn’t mistaken it was an Omega which looked seriously cool against the dark
hairs of his olive forearms. I recognised it from Bond and it had probably cost
more than my car.
The watch, the Vanquish, mission
HQ in the next room. Yes, I could definitely picture him as a spy, all dark,
brooding, mysterious and dangerous and I couldn’t help but drink in the sight
of him as he drained the pasta with his back to me, hard muscles flexing under
dark skin.
So much for the rules I had set
myself tonight. I’d already broken the no ogling one, quickly deciding that as
he hadn’t seen me it didn’t count. “Shit,” he scowled, flustered as the boiling
liquid splashed his exposed arms, pulling me from my thoughts.
“You’re a liability in the
kitchen, Sam,” I laughed and embarked on my mission to know
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