‘Hi, come in. Excuse the mess. I’m editing some of the pictures I took on the tour today.’
Travis opened the door to Squirrel Cabin for Freya that evening. She’d called in after work and the moment she stepped inside she was enveloped in its warmth, her nostrils inhaling the soft scent of wood smoke from the glowing burner.
The cabin was almost unrecognisable from the day she’d prepared it for his arrival. Every surface was littered with camera bags, lenses, filters and low-tech stuff like maps and ring binders. Next to a steaming mug of coffee, two MacBooks were open side by side on the dining table, showing a photograph of a snowy mountain ridge.
On the surface, it looked cosy and welcoming and safe but Freya had butterflies in her stomach. She’d suggested meeting at his place as a compromise. His territory, her ultimatum: that seemed fair, but now she had the feeling she’d walked into the lair of a messy, albeit friendly, grizzly bear.
‘You made it then?’
‘By the skin of my teeth.’
‘Sorry,’ he said, following her gaze around the room. ‘I probably should have let the cleaners work their magic, but I’m not used to being waited on and how can they possibly clean this place up with my junk everywhere?’
‘It’s fine. I’m glad to see you made yourself at home.’ More than that, he’d imbued every corner, nook and cranny with his very essence.
‘Coffee?’ he said. ‘I just made a pot.’
‘Thanks.’
The few seconds he took to pour her out some coffee and find the milk were the only time she had to gather herself. She’d rehearsed what she was going to say over and over, keeping it light yet firm. Roxanne’s wedding had churned up a heap of memories and insecurities, with Jos, with Travis and even going back to her childhood.
He swept a couple of files off a chair before handing the mug to her.
‘Thanks.’ She nodded at the MacBook whose photo had faded to a screensaver of a waterfall she recognised as Aira Force at Ullswater.
‘How did the tour go?’ she said, aware she was only delaying the crunch moment.
He smiled. ‘Good. Very good considering the rush I was in.’ His cheeky grin made the blood rush to her cheeks when she recalled the way they’d said goodbye earlier. ‘Three of the group signed up for my Tarns tour in the spring and one booked for the Iceland trip this summer. We got some good shots and they all seemed pretty enthusiastic.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Apart from the man who said he could have been a professional if he hadn’t devoted his life to commercial insurance broking.’
She wrinkled her nose. ‘One of those?’
‘’Fraid so. Turned up in a big Bentley SUV, with brand new hiking boots and a camera he’d no clue how to use. I get them sometimes: all the gear, no idea.’
She laughed, amused at his world-weariness.
He perched on the sofa. ‘But you didn’t come here to talk about photography, did you?’
Her stomach fluttered. ‘No.’ He’d opened the door for her, now she had to walk through it, quickly and confidently. ‘Does anyone know about last night? You didn’t tell Bree we were together?’
A deep frown. ‘I saw her for a few minutes when the tour group met. She’d no clue I hadn’t been home.’
‘Oh … only I thought someone might have seen you when you left. Your car was there.’
‘I sneaked out the back door the same way I sneaked in. Everyone was sleeping off their hangovers and if anyone asks, I’ll say I had too much to drink and called a cab to take me home.’ He folded his arms. ‘Why is it so important that no one knows we’re together?’
‘Because we’re not together. Not in public. I don’t want the gossip and the … expectation. Not from our families, or friends or anyone.’ She couldn’t stand the pressure on herself – the pressure to admit she felt more for him than lust.
‘OK. I can understand that. I don’t mind being discreet.’ He seemed to relax and smile. ‘I think it could be pretty sexy conducting an illicit affair. In fact, now would be the idea opportunity to practise. I presume no one knows you came here …’
Damn, he didn’t seem to be taking her warnings seriously. Freya tried again. ‘They don’t, and I feel the same about you: the practising, I mean.’
‘Wow.’ He raised his eyebrows.
‘You’re surprised I’m so upfront? That a woman would be.’
He laughed. ‘Not surprised – delighted.’ The laughter melted into a smouldering look of desire. ‘I’d love to go to bed with you again. Right now.’
‘Then let’s just do it. As often as we want.’ With her resistance dissolving by the second, Freya steeled herself. ‘But here’s my second condition.’
‘Right …’
‘As well as being discreet, we must not get serious. It’s fun times, the pub, dinner and lots of sex – but absolutely no commitment. I’m rubbish at it. My track record proves it. With you – and—’ She almost added with Jos but stopped in time. ‘It would all go wrong.’ And if she never allowed herself to love again, she couldn’t suffer the pain of losing him.
‘Right …’ Travis said in a tone that let her know he felt the situation was anything but right. ‘I respect you being upfront but shouldn’t we sit down and talk this through more before we jump into bed?’ He groaned. ‘I can’t actually believe I just said that but I’m thinking of you – of us. Both of us.’
Freya drew herself up, more determined than ever. ‘This is the talk. The only talk. Let’s get it right, there isn’t going to be some big epiphany, some lightbulb moment. You want sex, I want sex. I do … really like you, Travis. Life’s never boring with you, but as for staying together, til death us do part, in sickness and health – I have the worst track record when it comes to commitment; you live an exciting life and although you have the gallery, I don’t think Bannerdale will be big enough for you somehow.’
He looked at the floor. ‘Not big enough for me?’
‘It wasn’t before,’ she said.
‘So this arrangement is to protect you – or me?’
‘Both.’
‘You were the one who broke it off,’ he said so gently, she couldn’t be angry.
‘Yes, I did and like I said, commitment’s not for me. Not at the moment. You must know I’m right.’
‘Maybe. Maybe you are.’ He laughed but his laughter held a chill that sent shivers through her. ‘Maybe this should be the template for relationships. No strings, no promises.’
She hadn’t realised her hands were shaking, this was more emotional than she’d expected. She’d thought she could breeze in, offer him no-strings sex and he’d keep things light. Yet her heart ached as she spoke and her honesty sounded more brutal than refreshing.
‘I’m not suggesting it would suit everyone. Just that it’s the right thing for us, right now. If you’re not comfortable with that, I’ll understand.’
‘Oh, I’m very comfortable with having lots of sex with you.’
‘Without expecting anything else?’ she said, needing to know unequivocally.
‘With no expectations. You made it perfectly clear you didn’t want anything when we were young. More importantly, you’ve made it perfectly clear now that you’re not looking for long-term with me or …’ He faltered. ‘Or anyone for now.’
‘I think we’re mature enough to keep this as friends with benefits,’ he said, adding lightly, ‘I have as much intention of making this into some big romance as you do.’
She heaved a huge sigh. Even as the weight was lifted from her mind, the weight of relief at telling him, replaced by a different kind of weight that came from – where? She didn’t know how to name it.
She forced a smile to her face. ‘OK. Whew. That’s out of the way – I was worried you might want to end it all before it had even started.’
‘After last night?’ His eyes sparked with desire again. ‘I’m not crazy.’
‘I worked that out. So, do you think we should forget the coffee and continue the arrangement? Unless of course,’ she said, sweeping her hand at the laptops, ‘you’re too busy?’
He was on his feet, taking her hand in moments. ‘Oh, I think I can find the time.’