HAVE I LOST this moment?
That was running on replay in Ash’s mind as his arms still clung to her gorgeous body.
I’m so turned on, please don’t stop this.
He knew he should be remembering something, that he should be staying away. He was so drunk on this woman, this amazing woman who didn’t need anyone but made him want to protect her like some bear of a man from the Dark Ages—it was something he just couldn’t shake. He was starting to dread the day he’d leave this place. The thing was, he’d kind of figured that out before now. His mind didn’t drift, hadn’t drifted. He was right here, in this moment and loving every minute of it.
‘Marnie,’ he said again, his voice sounding deep and broken, even for him. ‘You with me?’ He tried not to, but he touched his lips to hers. Just for a second, or five. He had to, he thought he might explode otherwise. It didn’t help when she moaned in response.
Wow. I want to make her do that again. A lot.
The thing she did next was nearly the ending of him. He nearly dropped her on the stop. She answered him.
‘Yes, Ash.’ She brushed her lips against his, licking at them playfully when she pulled away. ‘I’m with you.’
He smiled, and he wanted to say something else. A lot of things, some things that would definitely kill the moment and how he was feeling holding his own little spark of light in his arms. That was what she was, he thought as their lips came together again, their bodies pushing against each other to get closer.
She’s a spark of light. A bolt I didn’t expect, clear out of the Cornish blue sky. A star lit up on the Christmas tree.
So he was glad he didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to do anything, say anything to break their bubble. He wanted more of her. So he didn’t make a sound. Someone did though. Violet.
His hand was on the outside of Marnie’s underwear when Violet woke up. And, boy, did she wake up. Marnie’s face dropped, and she wiggled out of his arms. He stayed her movements and placed her back down on the floor. She looked at him for a long moment, but he couldn’t make out whether her expression was one of disappointment, or guilt. Or panic. She seemed to put a mask on the second her daughter alerted her. He felt foolish maybe, reckless, sure, but not guilty. That would imply that he regretted it. He felt more as if her dad had just walked in on them kissing in her bedroom.
‘I, er...sorry.’
She was back, Violet in her arms now. The little one was teary-eyed and clearly still tired. It was only then that he noticed the tiredness was etched on her mother’s face too.
‘Let me guess.’ He walked across to them. Violet observed him with features just like the woman holding her. He smiled at them both before answering. He felt as though he needed a moment to get over the sight of the two of them.
Was that it? Was that why he was attracted to her? A single woman with a newborn baby? No, he already knew he’d questioned that before. Without even quite knowing why. Well, he did know why. The first time they’d met, in the waiting room at Carey House. Wow, he’d thought he was going to pass out right in front of her that day. He knew he’d not even noticed her baby, or even thought about why a woman like that might be in the room. He’d just clocked her. Her questioning, curious eyes. Her sleek blonde bob, severe-looking on most people, but on her it just made her look fiercely beautiful. Especially now, he thought with a curl of his lip. ‘She didn’t sleep last night.’
Marnie shook her head. ‘Nope. She just needs her nappy changing. I’ll just take her up...’
‘Oh, okay.’ He took a step back in the hallway. ‘Do you want me to go, let you...?’
He stopped talking when she met his eye. ‘Can you stay?’
His nod was all he could get out without saying something sappy. Her returning smile nearly took him to his knees. He watched her carry her child up the stairs of the house that mirrored his in everything from size to layout but not in heart. This place was a real home. It reeked of Marnie, and Violet was everywhere now. Not in a hoarder kind of way, but just in the way a proud mother would want. Photos in frames, toy box ready in the lounge. Play mat out, bottles in the steriliser. Everything neatly stacked, in order, in the kitchen, he noticed as he looked around a little, walking slowly and taking in every detail.
He could make out Marnie’s voice from upstairs. She was humming something about being over a rainbow, and it made him smile, but his heart clench. It wasn’t because she was a mother. It was because of her.
He looked around the rest of the kitchen. It was neat, everywhere really. You could tell she was a new mother, of course, but he could tell she cleaned a lot. He did the same. He wondered whether she did it out of boredom too. Something to chase the feelings away.
He focused on the fridge, which was adorned with orderly photos weighed down by fridge magnets from places all around. She must have travelled at some point. Before settling down in her home town and raising a family. He was still travelling, and still carrying baggage. He felt his shoulders sag. This was messy, and he didn’t want to hurt her. That was the last thing he wanted. The first thing was more of what they’d just done in the hallway.
He wanted to do more hallway stuff. Boy, did he, but it came with conversations, and talking. Longing and counting down days on his rota. Till the last day. When he would do what? Just leave and go to the next job, as if nothing had happened? He didn’t relish any part of that in his future. He didn’t have a plan, as such. He knew if he had, though, it wouldn’t have included this. He’d met a woman like Marnie at a time that he wasn’t looking or expecting to. Or wanting to, for that matter. He realised that his heart wasn’t quite the swinging brick he’d thought it was now. The fast beating of his heart was testament to how strong that organ was at the moment. Half thudding out of his chest.
He heard the humming stop, and her footsteps on the stairs. This was it. This was the perfect time to escape again. He should just leave and avoid her for the rest of his time. He could do that at work, even though everything about Carey House seemed to remind him of her. She was part of the place, as noticeable as the paint covering the walls. He could take extra shifts if they came up. Bury himself in work for a different reason than normal. A less sad one, but still, a situation still best avoided.
He should contact the agency, ask them to replace him. He would be sent elsewhere. Something had stopped him though. He told himself it was because he’d already been two weeks late to start. He didn’t like to let people down, and the staff at Carey House didn’t deserve to be left in the lurch. He didn’t want to upset Marnie either. She would probably blame herself, for not being there. Nya said that she would probably come back before the end of her proposed maternity leave. Maybe after the festivities were over, she would want to come back. Then all of this angst would be for nothing. He could stick it out another couple of weeks.
He’d been planning to ask to work over Christmas anyway. It wouldn’t be any different to do that here. It would be easy. He could keep his head down, hide out in his cottage. Wait his time out. It sounded like a plan. A plan that had one question attached to it that he couldn’t work out the answer to for the life of him. The question was why wasn’t he heading right out of the front door? He had his keys in his hand, but his feet didn’t move.