‘Faith?’ Henry calls from the threshold the next morning. I turn and look at him, unable to ignore the fact that he looks positively delicious in a pair of tatty Levi’s, construction boots and an old check shirt with his sleeves rolled up. His arms are the perfect amount of hairy and—
‘The team has just offered to help me take the old kitchen out. Is that okay with you…?’
Just don’t look at him. Even if his voice alone is enough to fry your knickers, just ignore it all.
‘Faith?’
‘Uhm… yes, yes, of course, I’ll come and give a hand too.’
‘Thanks,’ he says with a smile. ‘We need all the help we can get today.’
So do I. If I can make it through today without embarrassing myself any more than I already have, I’m ahead of the game. Because Henry is a bloke just like any other. No better, no worse. Just average. At least that’s what I keep telling myself, but he constantly proves me wrong.
‘Here,’ he says, adjusting a pair of goggles on me. ‘We don’t want those gorgeous eyes of yours to be without protection.’
You see? One day he’s cold, and the next day he’s hot. Where do I stand with him? I don’t know, and I can’t ask. I’d simply die. Defeated, I look up at him and that beautiful mouth of his that curves into a sensual smile as his dark eyes caress my face the way no one else’s ever have. He is so close I can smell his deliciousness, and I actually have to look down because he is truly too beautiful to behold without making a right fool of myself in front of my staff.
‘There you are,’ he whispers and for a moment it’s like we’re completely alone in the room.
Never mind protecting my eyes, who the hell is going to protect my heart? Because that’s it – I think it’s too late for that now. I am undone. Completely, absolutely, crappily undone.
But I can’t afford to be hurt again. So this time, I’m being very wary. I don’t want to go back to the darkness of those moments, when I felt that I was sitting at the bottom of a well with no hope to ever surface again. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to act upon my desire, am I? Yes, I know what you’re thinking – that I already have. I look up at him, seriously wondering how I’m going to not get my heart broken again.
‘Don’t forget your gloves,’ he says as he holds them open for me and as my cheeks catch fire, I slip my hands into them like a child being dressed by her father before going out into the cold. His touch is delicate, yet incredibly sexy. If I feel this way while he’s slipping a pair of grubby working gloves onto my hands, just imagine what it would be like to have him slip my clothes off. But I can’t think of that now or I’ll burst into flames in front of my crew, which would be rather embarrassing and tricky to explain to the Health and Safety board.
‘You ready?’ he murmurs, uncaring of everyone else who seems too busy with the task at hand to notice our tender exchange.
I nod, still unable to maintain his gaze.
He claps his hands shut and turns back into the Turner part of Turner & Cooke, which is fine with me. I can deal with Turner & Cooke. I love Turner & Cooke. It’s the Turner part alone that I can’t deal with. Unless there’s a desk between us.
‘Let’s get the bugger out, then,’ he says and we turn to face the job.
In silence, we all marvel at the ugliness of it, like a horrid painting that no one comprehends.
‘That sure was a bloody red kitchen,’ Mike says, causing the others to laugh.
‘Yeah, it would absolutely put me off my dinner,’ Rudy agrees.
Henry’s eyes meet mine. ‘Soon it’ll be just how it was,’ he says. ‘You’ll never even know this dreadful thing was here.’
‘Amen,’ I say.
‘Yes,’ Henry agrees. ‘Carefully, though.’
Bill snorts. ‘What, we’re salvaging this piece of rubbish, too?’
I nod. ‘I told you, I don’t want anything of hers damaged.’
Henry eyes me, and I sense that he is glad I haven’t gone psycho-bitch on Vanessa’s possessions. I could never do that to anyone. Even if nothing is to my taste, it’s not mine to throw away.
Henry, of course, is leading the team, and after we’ve removed the cooker and sink, down come the cupboards, and up comes the counter and the blood-red tiles and splashback. Normally at this point in a reno, it feels good to throw out the ugly for the beautiful. But the fact that this was once my home makes it even more difficult.
‘Let’s take a break,’ I call after a couple of hours of this ghastly work and the tools are gratefully put down.
I take off my gloves and goggles and go sit out on the back patio. After a moment Henry appears with a couple of mugs containing coffee.
‘Thanks, just what I needed. How’s Orson?’ I ask and he turns to me with a smile.
‘He’s doing well, thank you. He’s with his mum today.’
‘Oh, that’s good,’ I say.
‘I’ll bring him back here to see you when it’s safer.’
‘Of course. Let me know when you do so I can bring mine in too – I mean, Jowen and Verity. Who are not my kids, obviously.’
Henry laughs. ‘Obviously.’
And then he looks at me, doing a double take.
‘What?’ I say. ‘Have I got something on my face?’
But he doesn’t answer, his eyes widening. Oh dear, it must be very bad? Spinach in my teeth? Only I haven’t eaten any. Raspberry seeds from the jam?
But he’s not looking at just my mouth. His gaze is travelling all over my face. He’s going to kiss me again. Unless there’s a spot where I’ve exaggerated with my foundation, or perhaps even missed a spot. Except that I’m not wearing any and – oh! I catch my breath as he leans in, closer and closer until I can see the gold specks in his dark eyes. He is going to kiss me.
But look at me. I’m an absolute mess with my hair tied up in a tight bun, in my work overalls and a tatty T-shirt. No make-up, none of the usual accoutrements that might make a female more attractive. All this time I’d fantasised about our second kiss, the seal-the-deal one, hopefully; and it’s going to happen now that I look like this? I can barely breathe at the thought of him kissing me again and I watch, transfixed, as he slowly leans in and gently – gently – touches his mouth to mine.
The patio suddenly starts spinning, but I don’t care, because all I want is to continue feeling those soft lips on mine for as long as possible.
This is what I’ve always needed. Tenderness, yet eagerness. Passion. Strength. And a man who makes me lose my mind like never before.
There are entire worlds in his kisses, and the look on his flushed face is new to me. I have never seen Henry like this before.
‘I’m sorry…’ he whispers against my lips.
‘Don’t be,’ I softly moan as we wrap our arms around each other and I’m instantly surrounded by fresh, hot male. The stubbly face as he nuzzles my neck is just a bonus, awakening in me something I had thought gone for good. I don’t know how, but the rest of the world has entirely disappeared from what is now a bubble of Henry and me. The perfect world.
‘Wow,’ I breathe as the kiss ends and he looks down at me, studying my face for a reaction.
‘Wow indeed,’ he echoes, kissing me again. ‘You are amazing, Faith,’ he murmurs.
‘So are you,’ I manage, drawing in a gulp of air.
‘I know what you think about dating, but I would really like to see more of you,’ he says softly.
I look around the deserted patio. The beach is teeming with people. I know that no one can see us. And suddenly, against all my fears and worries, desire flares up in me like a rocket. I want Henry. I want to make love with him. Right now, no matter what the consequences. But the crew is scattered all over the house and I can’t risk it. Besides, if this is going to happen between us, I want it to be special. I want us to take our time.
‘So would I,’ I whisper back. ‘But anyone could come out here at any moment.’
At that, he chuckles. ‘I meant that I wanted to see you alone, off the job. But that idea works for me too!’
Gong! Faith Hudson makes an own goal, and it’s a biggie!
‘Oh. I’m sorry. I hadn’t—’
But he takes my mouth again, and the kiss is suddenly less tender. Deeper. Needier. And it’s a wonder I don’t melt into his arms.
‘Never be sorry, Faith,’ he whispers between our kisses.
‘I won’t,’ I promise.
*
It is, despite my best attempts to forget, Valentine’s Day. But has he asked me out, or made plans to see me? No. And there was me thinking it was the perfect day to meet up with someone you want to kiss. Perhaps he’s simply busy with Orson. Or perhaps I’ve misread this whole thing, and that whatever this thing between us is (or isn’t) it’s nothing but a passing, animal attraction. Maybe not even he knows what he wants. And, lo and behold, once more, if I’m not careful, I’ll end up with a broken heart.
So rather than stay in and wait for a call that might never come, assuming I even want it to, I ditch my phone and get in my car to go for a country drive. To cheer myself up, I buy a bouquet of flowers. Would it be too pushy if I showed up on his doorstep with them? Absolutely, yes. If he wanted to see me, he’d have asked. So I’m staying away.
As it’s too cold to get out of the car, I simply drive to Helston and take the A394 and then the A30 through the countryside in the direction of St Ives. The countryside, even in the grey light, is absolutely breath-taking. The trouble is that, at this hour, I was expecting there to be more cars around. But as the minutes pass, and the sky becomes darker, I meet fewer and fewer people on my way.
This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t feel edgy, just because everyone else is already ensconced in restaurants or nice and warm inside their own homes. I’ll simply pick up lunch at the first place I find and then go back home. The last thing I want is to sit in a place full of love-sick couples. Ugh.
The skies are cloudy, but they are all different shades, ranging from white to grey to black, as if it didn’t know its own intentions. A bit like Henry, really.
Okay, yes, I’m not happy today, but what single girl is happy on Valentine’s Day? Even a self-professed loner like me feels… well, lonely.
I stop at a café and order a nice bowl of hot beef stew to warm me up. I’m the only one around and the owners are staring at me as if I’m nuts. The waitress comes to my side as I’m finishing up.
‘Do be careful on the roads,’ she says as I give her my bank card and climb back into my coat. I follow her gaze to the window to see that the clouds are now scurrying across the sky like children pouring into a schoolyard at the sound of the bell.
‘Thank you, I will,’ I assure her before she closes and locks the door behind me.
By the time I get into my car, the sky has turned ominously dark, the swirling clouds now finally having decided they are going to unleash one almighty storm after all.
Before I know it, it starts to come down heavily and my wipers begin to swish and sway to keep the windshield clear. But as I go, mile after mile, my spirits, which hadn’t been at dizzying heights to start with, begin to drop, and I wish that I hadn’t left my flat as there is now a river of water now coming at me in the road, slowly collecting mud and pebbles as it goes.
I swallow and wipe my eyes as if to see better. After a few pained miles and still not one car in sight, I begin to wonder what I’d do if I ran into car trouble. Having left my mobile at home so I wouldn’t be tempted to check it every minute for a message from Henry, I am now, in effect, completely isolated in my travels. If something happens, I’m dead.
I clench my jaw and shoulders as the muddy water turns to mud that is now splashing over what is no longer pebbles on the road, but actual rocks. It’s getting worse and worse and soon I won’t be able to proceed. I’ll be stuck here, in the middle of nowhere, possibly all night if my car doesn’t get swept away by the flood. I could end up in the river. And I don’t have a soul to give me the courage I need to reach my destination. At this point I’d even be grateful for Jawsy to talk to.
I think of Hope who for once on Valentine’s Day is snuggled up at home with the kids. I think of Henry and Orson who have no doubt drawn the curtains and are settling down in front of the log burner. And here I am, on my own, because I couldn’t face being on my own on such an annoying day. I fleetingly wonder whether my mum had had a day like this, when loneliness overwhelmed her and before I know it, I’m swiping at a tear.
But then, it gets worse, as who is coming at me from the other direction, but Gabe? I recognise his SUV immediately, huge and secure in the midst of this hell. As we are slowly moving through the mud, I can see quite clearly that he is not alone, and that there is a woman in the seat next to him.
She looks relaxed and safe, stretched out in the comfy seat that I used to occupy. And actually, I can see them bobbing their heads simultaneously. What album are they listening to? Probably one I bought him.
And then I put my foot down. All I want is to get home safe, without resenting the fact that he’s still quite happy with someone else, while I’m so broken I can’t even enjoy the attention of a nice bloke like Henry. It’s my fault if I’m in this situation, just like it’s my fault I’m here alone on this damn road, still far from home, on my own and shivering inside my coat despite the heat being on full blast.
I should have invited Henry over to my flat. I should have given him the chance to continue our conversations there. But I had made it clear to him that I wanted to be with him after all, hadn’t I? I imagine all the couples in the world today, kissing and having dinner and making love, and here I am on a dark, isolated, almost impassable road in the middle of nowhere.
I’m glad that Gabe hadn’t even turned to look at my car. Sometimes it is better to go unnoticed, rather than be totally humiliated by his smugness, or worse, his pity. I chose not to be with him. But I didn’t choose to not be with Henry, especially today, day of all lovers. It serves me right to be here all alone, when I don’t even know what I want.
Who am I kidding? I want Henry. I want his arms around me and his baritone murmurs in my ear. I want to laugh with him and eat scones and muffins and ruffle Orson’s hair as he works his magic with his wooden toys. I want to be a part of them. But I guess I won’t be after all. It’s going to be another year before the next Valentine’s Day and – I know I’m being silly – it’s just another day like any other, but it was important for me to start afresh, and on such a symbolic day for love. But it didn’t happen.
By the time I manage to get back to Truro, I’m a wreck in every way. I pull myself up the stairs, completely soaked down to my knickers and socks. Inside, the heat is not on. There is something wrong with the thermostat, but as it’s a Sunday, there’s no one I can call. My landlord doesn’t even pick up at the best of times. Resigned and exhausted by my misadventures, I drag myself under the shower to try and wash the misery off me, but it clings to me like a second skin. St Valentine’s Day my arse.
*
The next morning my crew trickle in in dribs and drabs, and the din begins. I’m still in a foul mood and have a headache of biblical proportions.
‘Good morning, Faith!’ comes a joyous voice from the door. I turn and look at Orson who is wearing cute little jeans and a Kiss the Carpenter T-shirt. Now here is a sight that cheers me up.
‘Good morning, you look just like a professional carpenter!’ I say, getting to my feet to admire him closely, just as Henry is coming through the door with a tool box and a huge pink box from Cornish Born and Bread. And I already feel better.
‘It’s half-term!’ Orson cries happily. ‘I get to stay the whole time with Daddy!’
‘Good for you, sweetie!’ I chime, ruffling his hair.
‘Yes, we spent the entire day building a bookshelf for his room,’ Henry explains sheepishly. ‘I wanted to call you, but it didn’t seem fair.’ The words to have to share my son with anyone are not said, but are pretty obvious.
‘Ri-ight,’ I say for Orson’s benefit. What am I even on about? The bloke’s got a son. And he’ll be spending as much time as possible with him. Orson is a very lucky boy, to have a father who is trying as hard as he can to keep a semblance of a family. He is a good man, Henry, and I don’t blame him if he has no time for other things. Like trying to see if a relationship could work. I’ll save him the soul-searching. It won’t, at least not with me. Because, after what I saw last night and the way I felt, I know once and for all that I am well and truly beyond hope.
Orson hands me a familiar-coloured box. ‘Blueberry scones, your favourite. Daddy says it’s only right to return the kindness.’
‘Did he?’ I say with a grin. ‘Thank you, that’s very kind of you, Orson, and much appreciated.’
Orson seems to swell with pride as I take the huge box from his little hands.
‘I have a little surprise for you, Orson. Verity and Jowen are coming in today, too. Are you happy?’
‘Cool!’ he calls. ‘Daddy, did you hear?’
‘I heard,’ Henry answers him, his eyes swinging to mine in a silent message of thanks. And perhaps even of Thanks for being patient. But perhaps I’m only imagining things.
‘Maybe you could teach them how to make something, Orson?’ I ask, tearing my gaze away from Henry’s.
‘Sure!’ he says, flushing with pleasure, and yes, shyness – his father’s exact same trait, which is so endearing. In Orson, I mean.
‘Hey, little helper,’ Mike says, high-fiving Orson as he joins us. Orson just loves the chatter and the noise.
Henry observes the scene with benevolent eyes and as I’m watching him watch Orson, his eyes suddenly swing to mine again with a smile. He’s so happy when Orson’s here.
The doorbell goes, and by the insistent ring it can only be Jowen who’s been trying to play songs on the doorbell, particularly one of Gabe’s hits, ‘Ain’t nothing wrong with me’ (and that, ladies and gents, is a mouthful).
I fling open the door and in a second, Hope delivers me two munchkins climbing all over me, smothering me with kisses. They are such fantastic, affectionate children.
‘Auntie Fi!’ they cry in unison as if they haven’t seen me for years, and it certainly feels so.
‘Hi, guys! Orson’s here!’ I say as I straighten their clothes. ‘Are you coming, Hope?’
Frazzled and breathless, she closes the car door and joins her hands in an apology. ‘I can’t, I’m already late. Some other time.’
‘Bye, Mum!’
‘Goodbye, darlings!’ she calls wistfully, but takes to the road as if our drive was on fire. The drama (and dilemma) of working mums.
In the kitchen, Orson is watching Henry taking measurements.
Henry is very observant of his son’s interactions, and every now and then he flashes me a smile as Orson teaches the kids a few basics about wood. Stuff that I’d learnt only after years in design school, go figure.
I have a feeling that their presence is doing him some good as well. Goodness knows how difficult the divorce must have been for Orson, and I can only imagine the pains Henry must have gone through to keep Orson from the ugliness of it all.
Later that evening, with the crew gone home, Henry is trying to figure out a way to peel the kids apart for the evening.
‘Henry?’ I call, moving to the kitchen where he and the kids are all busy measuring something under the kitchen counter.
He looks up. ‘Yeah?’
‘I wonder if I could have a word?’
‘Sure,’ he says, jumping to his feet and following me into the main hall.
I know I should be more au fait with him, but I don’t want to make any more assumptions or mistakes.
‘My, uhm, sister is coming over with some food and I was wondering if you and Orson would like to stay? I’ve got some Pixar DVDs for the kids, too, if that’s okay?’
Henry’s face lights up. ‘I’d love to. But, if it’s okay, would you mind asking him yourself?
I smile. ‘Okay, let me go fetch him, then.’
I go back to the kitchen where the three of them are howling with laughter at God knows what joke, but it must be a good one.
‘Okay, you two, go wash up for dinner. I want you in clean clothes before Mum gets here.’
‘Awh, are we already going home?’
‘No,’ I say with a smile. ‘Mum is bringing some dinner and we’re eating here.’
‘Can Orson stay?’ Jowen asks hopefully.
‘Absolutely yes.’
‘I can?’ Orson asks, his eyes wide.
‘Yes, dinner and a movie, would you like that? Daddy says it’s okay.’
‘I’d love to!’ he cries. ‘Can we have popcorn, too? Daddy always buys me popcorn when he takes me to the movies.’
‘Of course! You can have anything you want, darling.’ And I bite my lip. Too intimate? I can’t explain it, but perhaps the fact that his mother is not a very good one endears him to me.
When Hope arrives the skies are just about to unleash an almighty storm so Henry and I come out to help her unload the car.
‘Hi!’ she calls as we rush over to her and take some trays as the first drops begin to fall. ‘I hope it’s good.’
‘It will be,’ I assure her as Henry lights some tea lights and places them in glasses full of water and Hope dishes up the food.
The three children are peeking through the curtains at the coming storm.
‘Look at that black sky!’ Jowen enthuses. ‘It’ll belt down in a minute!’
Orson, slightly younger, turns to look at his father for comfort.
‘Storms are safe if you’re indoors, kids. Come away from the windows and you’ll be fine,’ he assures them.
And they are not safe when you’ve been caught out in driving on your own and the mud is splashing over boulders blocking the road.
Verity bounces joyfully to the table, followed by Orson. Reluctantly, Jowen joins us and plonks himself opposite me, his eyes widening when he sees the amount of food his mum’s prepared.
I have never seen three kids so happy to eat. There’s just about all of our favourites – lasagne, roast beef, risotto, potatoes à la Julienne, mixed grilled vegetables and, get this, three kinds of dessert.
‘I think I’ve just gone to heaven,’ Henry murmurs. ‘Thank you, Hope.’
‘Do you cook?’ she asks.
‘That’s a big word for me.’
‘Well, for someone who makes kitchens for a living…’
‘You’d think, right?’ he says with a laugh.
‘Dad’s an excellent cook,’ Orson informs her in between bites. ‘And he makes the best cakes!’
Hope makes an impressed expression and nods at me as if to give me the go-ahead, bless her.
Later that night, Henry sends me a text:
Thinking of you. I’ve got something planned for you to make up for a missed Valentine’s Day. Hx
Oh? I text back. Tell me more?
Nuh-uh.
Please?
Never.
Well then maybe I’m busy, I text back.
😞 😞 😞 he types in and I laugh.
Goodnight, Faith. H xxx
Goodnight, Henry. F xxx
*
The next day I try to glean from him any info about my surprise, but he’s not having any of it.
‘Can you at least tell me what to wear?’ I ask as a last attempt.
‘Something warm and comfortable.’
‘Okay, so my PJs should do, then!’
He laughs, his eyes twinkling. ‘That’s very much in the neighbourhood of what I was thinking.’
Pyjamas? As in the neighbourhood of… bed? Is that what he has in mind?
What do I do now? I’m nowhere near ready for such a monumental turn of events. Not that I don’t want to, mind you. Kudos and brownie points galore to him, of course. But I have to be prepared beforehand. Work my way to it. I know I’m always saying that I want to be more spontaneous, but shouldn’t I be starting with something slightly less seismic, something more in the neighbourhood of open-heart surgery?
So when that evening he hands me a black blindfold, instead of saying something in the neighbourhood of ‘Ooh, kinky,’ all I can do is swallow.
‘Your face!’ he cries with a laugh, his hands on his lean cheeks. ‘I promise I won’t do anything you won’t want me to.
Oh, goody. I’d better start thinking about our safe word. As in I don’t do kinky.
‘Come on, don’t you trust me?’ he says and I find myself looking into his dark, dark eyes. Eyes that are deep and unfathomable. Gabe’s were a serene, angelic blue, and yet look where that got me.
To say that I’m not intrigued would be a lie. ‘Oh, go on then.’ So I follow him to his Jeep and let him blindfold me, as trusting as a baby.
As we travel down to the main road, I try to glean from the slant of the car, but he is driving smoothly and I have no idea which way we’re going. At one point he puts his hand on my hand resting in my lap, grazing my thigh and I sit back and relax. Who am I kidding? It’s all I can do from containing my excitement.
‘What about Orson? Don’t you have him for half-term?’
‘I do, but my parents were dying to have him for just one night.’
I swallow. So am I, if you know what I mean.
‘So I thought I’d spend my one night off with you.’
Now that’s a statement of intent if I’d ever heard one.
‘I don’t get many nights off,’ he explains. ‘Family is very important to me…’
‘Of course…’
‘I’m doing everything I can to make sure that Orson doesn’t suffer…’
‘Yes, I understand.’
After about thirty minutes, Henry cuts the engine as I become aware of a clinking sound. It sounds like glasses, only in the distance. He removes my blindfold and I look around me to see that we are in a marina.
‘Surprise,’ he murmurs.
‘A boat ride? At this hour?’
‘It’s a full moon, the best time. When it poured own the other night I was worried it would ruin my surprise, but we were lucky in the end.’
I haven’t been on a boat in ages. I take a deep breath as we stroll down the jetty to where a few boats are bobbing on the gentle waves.
It’s a balmy, quiet evening, as all the merrymakers of the evening have staggered home, and even the gulls seem to have disappeared with them, leaving the gentle lapping of the sea behind.
Henry speaks to a man and helps me board what is, in effect, not a boat at all, but a sizeable yacht. ‘N-nice,’ I say.
He laughs. ‘Do you like boats?’
‘Only ones that float,’ I confess.
‘Well, this one looks pretty sturdy, so I wouldn’t worry. Come, let’s have a seat on deck. It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?’
‘It is,’ I agree, breathing in the salty air.
The man, who I assume will be our skipper, brings a platter with hors d’oeuvres.
Dinner?
‘You like my surprise?’ he asks.
‘I like. Next time, I’ll take you to a great place I know.’ And then I stop, my face going hot. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean – just because we kissed – twice. Doesn’t mean that—’
Henry passes me a glass of sparkly water and throws his head back in a hearty laugh, his eyes crinkling under the incredibly long lashes. ‘Faith Hudson, you say the damnedest things sometimes.’
‘Right,’ I say, feeling like an idiot as the yacht slowly leaves the marina.
‘But I wouldn’t say no to another great restaurant,’ he says as he takes a sip of his own drink. ‘So, where is this place?’
‘It’s the L’étoile. Hope is head chef there.’
‘Ah, yes, she mentioned it. I’ll be delighted to sample her food again. You were right, she is amazing. You two did well for yourselves.’ The phrase, Your parents would be proud of you hangs in the air, but I pretend I don’t feel its far reaches.
‘Thank you. She did. I’m still trying to get the attention of the Lord and Lady Wickford.’
‘Is there no one at all who knows them and could set you up?’
‘Only colleagues. But why would they help me access the Wickfords rather than nab them themselves?’
‘So you don’t have any interior designer friends, then.’
‘No. I have other amazing friends, such as my coastal girls.’
His eyebrows go up. ‘Coastal girls?’
‘They’re my friends: Rosie, Nat and Nina. They started out as my clients, but then the business lunches turned into friendly lunches and the rest is history.’
‘It’s nice to have that,’ he says wistfully.
‘Don’t you have a best friend?’
‘I used to, many years ago, but not anymore. I’m surrounded by colleagues and clients. I guess my brother Evan is my best friend.’
There’s a lull in the conversation, but it’s not an embarrassing one as we are both enjoying the sea breeze on our faces. ‘Where exactly are we going with this thing, Henry?’ I ask before I can stop myself. Now that sounded like a relationship status request if I’d ever heard one!
His eyes swing to mine furtively, but then he looks out to the dark sea studded with the lamps of nearby fishing boats. ‘Just for a short coast hug. An hour or so, is that okay?’
I nod. It’s more than okay. I’d stay here forever with him, if I could – sail across the world over and over, just to be with him.
‘So,’ he says. ‘Whenever you’re free, can we go? To your sister’s restaurant?’
‘It’s not hers, but yes, of course. I’ll book for next week, if you like.’
‘Okay, then. Next week it is.’
‘I’ll give you a call to let you know when.’
He grins. ‘Or, you can tell me when you see me at work.’
I feel myself blushing. ‘Yes. Silly me.’
We are both silent again, simply enjoying the sight of the now distant houses of the coastline, twinkling like fairy lights.
‘This is so relaxing,’ I say. ‘Thank you. For not leaving me alone tonight.’ As opposed to Valentine’s Day. ‘Sorry, that came out rather different than I’d intended. I meant—’
‘I know what you meant, Faith,’ he reassures me in a deep, low voice. I turn my head towards him, and even in the dark, I can see his eyes flashing as he slowly turns me around to face him completely.
And then, the world once again turns completely upside down as Henry gently cups my chin, the burning emotions on his face visible even in the moonlight, and before I can take my next breath, his mouth descends onto mine in a new kind of kiss. It starts slowly, delicately, softly and on his lips, the whisper of my name, spoken like I’ve never heard it before, and I know that the time has come for us to have more.
But not here, as lovely as this is, sailing off into the moonlight, with a skipper around.
‘Shall we head back…?’ he murmurs against my neck and my head falls back like a puppet’s whose strings have been cut.
‘Uh-huh…’ I softly moan, the yearning in me so sudden and intense I don’t know what’s come over me. I haven’t felt like this in years, not even with Gabe, and as Henry’s mouth works me up to new levels of want, I’m praying that we can get back to my flat before I burst into flames.
But we do, and all the worries concerning ‘it’ happening between us, fade into nothing when he opens and ushers me gently through my front door, while all I can do is gape at him in sheer, unadulterated lust.
I don’t need to worry about a thing, because Henry picks me up and carries me into my bedroom, his mouth still doing all those magical things he’s been doing in the Jeep all the way home in stretches of clear road. His eyes had promised me so much more, and here we are now. Alone.
He gently lays me down on the bed, removing every item of clothing until I am as naked as the day I was born.
He looks down on me as he pulls off his own shirt, the look in his eyes so naughty that I know I’m already deeper in trouble than I’d thought.
‘Let’s finish what you tried to start in this very room weeks ago,’ he murmurs, lying next to me, raking his hands through my hair as he takes my mouth in what is no longer a gentleman’s kiss, but a proper branding of my mouth, and my entire body knows what it wants, once and for all.
*
The next morning Henry and I wake up literally entwined. Our clothes are strewn all over the place and the bed is an absolute battlefield.
I smile, remembering last night’s naughty shenanigans. Henry is truly a generous lover. Very, very naughty, but in a gentlemanly way that I never thought existed.
‘Good morning. What’s that smile on your face?’ he drawls lazily as he pulls me closer into his arms.
‘Good morning,’ I murmur as I snuggle back into him.
‘How are you feeling?’ he asks, rubbing his stubbly face against my neck and already I’m feeling the heat, despite the fact that I’ve only just woken up.
‘Exhausted. So you can have the first shower. I need to catch up on my sleep!’
He laughs, and I can feel his abdomen contract and expand against my side. He has the body of a god. And the manners of a lord wrapped up in the lust of the devil. How is he not too good to be true? How is he here with me?
Henry’s phone rings a childish tune. ‘Oh, Geez, I’m sorry, that’s Orson,’ he says. ‘Do you mind if I—?’
‘Of course not,’ I assure him as I pull away enough to give him some privacy. My own niece and nephew have the knack for calling at the wrong time, too, so I might as well get used to it.
‘Hey, buddy boy!’ he says and then stops to listen to his son enthusiastically relaying a story. ‘Really? Yes… yes… oh? Of course, just a moment.’
Henry grins at me. ‘He wants to say hello.’
‘Awh, that’s so sweet,’ I gush reaching for his mobile. ‘Hi, Orson!’
‘Hi, Faith…’
‘How are you?’
‘I’m okay. Sort of.’
‘Why? What’s wrong?’
Henry’s eyes narrow and he straightens.
‘It’s just that I miss you…’
A wave of tenderness sweeps over me. ‘Oh, Orson, sweetie, I miss you too!’
Henry visibly relaxes and, kissing me, mouths the word shower and I nod, watching him go in all his naked hotness before turning all of my attention to this darling little boy.
‘You have to help me,’ Orson whispers. ‘I overheard my grandparents talking about Mum and Dad. They’re going to try and get back together again. And last week Mum kissed him. They never used to do that, but now…’ He audibly gulps. ‘She’s always there and I’m afraid she’ll come back to live with us. I don’t want her in our home. I’ll go to her when I have to, but I want to stay alone with Daddy.’
‘Hang on, Orson,’ I whisper back. ‘Did you say that your mum kissed your dad?’
‘Yes! On the lips! And then he took her by the hand to his bedroom.’
My heart almost stops. ‘T-to his bedroom?’
‘They were in there for four entire episodes of Creeped Out!’
Creeped out is exactly what I am. Linda and Henry, in his bedroom? I hadn’t managed to make it there yet myself because of my sense of respect for Orson. But I guess Linda being his mum trumps everything. The time we’ve just spent together, Henry and I, skin against skin, has no bearing against the importance of a family. But then why string me along?
And then I understand. It was all a pity thing after all. Of course, the poor girl dumped by her boyfriend twice, kicked out of her own home – twice – what bloke with a modicum of decency would deal her a third similar blow? Well, I have absolutely no need whatsoever for his pity.
Orson is still waiting for my reaction. I clear my throat, trying to remove the boulder that’s lodged itself in there. ‘And… you don’t want her to?’
‘No. But they’ve been doing that a lot lately and I’m afraid she’ll come back. What should I do?’
What should he do, indeed? ‘Talk to him, Orson. He’s your daddy and would do anything for you. If you tell him how you feel, he’ll be able to help you.’
‘I don’t need any help. I just want him to stop kissing her.’
Oh my God in heaven.
‘Can you tell him to stop?’
How can I not let this darling boy down without betraying him?
‘I’ll see what I can do, Orson. But you have to talk to him, too, okay?’
‘Okay. Bye, Faith…’ he says, slightly despondent.
I can’t bear to hear him like this. ‘It’ll be okay, sweetheart.’
At that precise moment, Henry saunters back into the bedroom with a towel wound around his lean hips. I swallow and turn away. It’s all I can do to not look at him. Or scream at him. But if I start, I will never stop. How could I have been such an idiot?
‘Hang on, Orson, I’ll pass you back to your daddy.’
‘Oh-kay…’
I take a huge breath and fight to internally mop up the pieces of my heart that have melted inside me as, without looking at Henry, I pass him his mobile back.
‘Hey, buddy boy,’ he says and, as much as I want to scream at him, I make a desperate dash to hide in the loo. He’s left it in complete order. No damp towels on the floor, no misty glass. If anything, it looks even cleaner than before he had his shower. Apparently he’s good at covering his tracks.
Henry and his ex-wife. Who knew? So much for the broken-hearted man who’s all spaniel eyes with me. Fake spaniel eyes, I now know. How long has this been going on? And what do I make of the other day at his home, when I couldn’t remember being that happy in a long time? God, will I never learn? When Gabe left me I was desperately miserable, but at least I was miserable on my own, without anyone else to worry about. I’ll have to make a hasty retreat from Henry’s life, but how can I un-hear what Orson has told me?
I turn on the hot water as high as it will go and sob as softly as I can under the jets, trying to wash off all of Henry’s kisses and the stamp of everything we did to each other only last night. This is definitely the shortest story I’ve ever had. And definitely the last. I am done with men. All of them!
‘Hey, Faith?’ Henry’s voice at the door makes me jump. I thought he’d gone, anxious as he must be to get home.
‘Yes?’
‘Are you coming out anytime soon?’
‘Uhm, no,’ I call.
‘Are you all right?’ he asks.
‘Yep.’
‘Oh. Okay, I just wanted to tell you that I’m not coming in today. Is that all right?’
Of course you’re not. You’ve got to see Linda.
He stalls, presumably as he’s unsure of just how much I know. Why else would I be giving him the cold shoulder?
‘Yes. Well. I’ll see you tomorrow, then. But I’ll give you a call later on, okay? Call me sooner if you need me.’
Need him? What makes him think I need him? I’ve been doing splendidly on my own, thank you very much. Faith Hudson does not need a man in her life to get out of bed in the morning.
‘It’ll be fine, Henry. I’ll see you whenever.’
An astonished silence. He must be wondering what’s got into me. Well, he should be able to put two and two together. But he doesn’t. ‘Oh. Okay, then. I’m going.’
‘Yes, bye bye,’ I chime as my heart literally falls apart.
There is a moment of hesitation – I can feel it through the door – before the front door opens and gently closes. Exit Heartbreaker Number Two.