Chapter Twenty-Six

 

I finished the grocery list and arranged for everything to be delivered so Jimmy could make his “one-man Thanksgiving dinner.” I printed some recipes and took them downstairs to the breakfast bar, then ran back upstairs to get ready for my date with Oliver.

He wouldn’t tell me where we were going, only that it was a “bit of a drive,” I should bring an overnight bag, and to dress warmly.

He promised Jimmy we’d be back in time for dinner tomorrow and somehow sweet-talked or bullied him into letting me go. Toby promised he didn’t mind, and Eric promised to supervise Jimmy, who imagined he was supervising Toby. For my own peace of mind, I asked him to keep a special eye on Eric. They were circularly taking care of each other and would be fine.

Oliver and I were cleared for take-off.

I didn’t figure out where he was taking me until we got there. He pulled the car over and came around to my side to take my hand as we waded into the high grass. The wind was whipping my hair, and the clouds were coming in. The air smelled wild, the heather was growing, the grass was high, and he and I were hand in hand… walking across the moors.

Jane Eyre’s moors. I’d spent God knew how many hours daydreaming about this place, and he’d brought me here.

He lifted my hand and kissed my fingers. I soaked up the sensation of being in such a beautiful, wild place, with someone who cared for me so much he would go to these lengths to make a dream come true for me. He’d promised me the best date of my life—it already was.

The smell of the air changed, became more electric. The storm rolled toward us from miles out. “We should go back to the car, sweetheart,” he said.

“In a minute.” The wind whipped my hair around. It smelled different than any air I’d ever smelled. I never wanted to leave.

“The clouds are getting pretty sinister,” he said a few minutes later.

I turned toward the car, then glanced back. “Maybe one more minute.”

Lightning flashed, and he laughed with me while stinging pellets of rain lashed at us.

I shouted over the storm. “Oliver!”

“Willa?”

“Best! Date! Ever!”

He swooped in to kiss me again. A slippery, rain-soaked, heated kiss that totally did justice to being in the middle of a storm on the moors.

My future was a question mark, but my present was a perfect exclamation point.

He cranked up the heater when we got in the car and drove for a few minutes before he turned off the road and followed an uneven two-track for a mile or two. By the time we got to the building, the rain was coming down so heavily I couldn’t see much. He parked by a low stone wall, then got out to open a wooden gate. He drove in and parked, and we dashed to the door. When we got inside, I stopped in my tracks.

The interior was different because there were modern appliances in it now, but I recognized it immediately. The arched brick ceiling, the distinctive tile, the wood-burning stove. “You brought me to Jane Eyre’s Moor House! From the best adaptation!”

“I did.”

“Are we staying here?” I whispered, dropping onto the wooden bench in the entry.

“We are.” He nodded and knelt at my feet to untie my muddy boots before standing and toeing off his own.

When he straightened, I leaped into his arms, wrapped legs my around him, and kissed all over his face. I’d become accustomed to not kissing him and always desperately wanting to; it was a luxury to be able to put my mouth on him every time I was moved to.

I was really, really moved to do so.

It was obvious we were on the same page. He held me up for a minute, then let me slide down his body until my feet were on the floor while he held me tightly against him. He didn’t stop kissing me until I couldn’t control a shiver.

He rested his forehead against mine as we caught our breath. “We need to get you warm. Go take off your wet things, and I’ll get a fire going.”

I squelched down the hall in my wet socks to the bathroom, where I found an enormous claw-footed tub next to windows overlooking the storm.

I filled the tub with hot water and poured in a generous amount of vanilla-scented bubble bath I found on the counter. Leaving my soggy clothes in the sink, I submerged myself in warm, fragrant bubbles. The storm beat against the windows, raindrops tracing uneven lines down the panes.

Oliver tapped on the door and called, “All right, Willa?”

“Come in here. You have to see this.”

He opened the door and peered around the corner. His brown eyes were warm, and he showed me his dimples. “Oh, hi. You’re right. Naked wet Willa is something I’m very happy to see.”

I felt my cheeks get pink. I gestured him over. “Come here. You can watch the storm from here.”

He sat on the tub’s edge. “Beautiful,” he said. I smiled, and he leaned down to kiss me. “I started a fire. By the time you come out, the chill should be out of the air.”

“Aren’t you cold?”

“A little.” He traced one hand through the thick bubbles. “I was going to go get some dry clothes.”

I captured his hand and tugged him closer. “It's a big tub.”

His expression was serious, but his gaze dipped to my mouth and back up. “Are you sure?”

I let go of his hand and brought my knees to my chest to make room for him.

I faced the window, suddenly shy as Oliver shucked his wet clothes. Nobody was going to burst in and interrupt us, thrusting a contract or anything else between us. It was just him and me.

He got in slowly, careful not to spill the soapy water over the edge. He sat across from me and settled against the back of the tub. He leaned his head back. “Feels good in here. You’re right.”

I shifted my legs against his, relishing how his skin against mine. I sighed happily. “It's perfect, right?”

“It’s perfect.” His voice was a caress.

There was so much Oliver on display for me to feast my eyes on. I ran my fingers over the art on his body, tracing a path of bubbles along his warm skin, eventually settling my hand over his heart. I raised myself up to my knees and settled onto his lap. I tilted his face toward me and kissed him.

He shifted under me, his skin a warm, slippery slide. “Ah, Christ. Sorry. I need to stop. This is too—you’re too—Willa.” There was a tremor in his voice. My unflappable Oliver was definitely flapped. It made me more confident.

I kissed him again and slid my hand down his chest, over his stomach, under the scented water.

He drew in a ragged breath.

“Let’s go to bed,” I said.

He gently moved my hair back from my face with wet fingertips and waited for me to meet his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“I'm sure. Please.” He kissed me, and this time I was the one who pulled back. “Yes?” I clarified.

“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice hoarse.

We both stood at once, water streaming down our bodies. He stepped out first and lifted me out.

He worked on toweling us both off as I rifled through my toiletry bag for a condom. He snagged it from my fingers when I held one up, victorious, and then he leaned in and kissed me again. I couldn’t get enough of the taste of him, the warmth of his lips, the perfect sting of his teeth, the buzz of his voice traveling through me when he groaned. I wanted to take my time and savor, but I couldn’t get enough of him fast enough.

He hooked the towel behind my back and used it to pull me with him while he walked backward down the hall. I giggled as we made our clumsy way, our damp naked bodies colliding and tripping along. “Too slow,” he muttered, lifting me off my feet again. He hauled me to the bedroom and dropped me on the bed.

His eyes were heated. “Beautiful,” he whispered.

I held my arms out to him, and he covered me with his body.

I remember vivid flashes of the first time. Snapshots, like I photographed us with my brain. His hands gripping mine, knuckles white, holding us both steady. Slowly rocking into me. The sweet ache of it.

His brown eyes on mine. Right there with me.

The way he bit his lip as he forced himself to hold on, last longer, make it better for me.

How he wrapped his arms around me and kept me grounded.

The way he held me after, tracing circles on my back with his warm fingers as I nestled against his chest.

I sighed against his skin and kissed him again because I could. “Oliver, you know what’s better than being on the moors?”

“Hmm?”

“Sex with you.”

His laugh rumbled against me.

“You might have ruined me for all other sex forever.” I was kidding, but not really. The whole higher ground stance, where he’d offered me a long-distance relationship, and I’d rejected a life of conjugal visits with him? My brain understood it was the right decision, but the rest of me wasn’t sure anymore. “I’m not complaining. It was worth it.”

“I’m glad you’re happy,” he said.

As my body cooled, second thoughts kicked in.

I pulled the blankets over our bodies, then nestled my head under his chin so I wouldn’t have to face him. I hadn’t been self-conscious in the heat of the moment. I’d been preoccupied with making it happen, but now that it had happened, what if he was underwhelmed? He was Oliver Everett. I was just Willa.

Now that I was coming down from the high, it occurred to me that Oliver had probably been with a lot of women. He’d certainly had more partners than I had. He’d probably slept with beautiful women all over the world. Women who were more experienced than I was, since there was hardly such a thing as less experienced. This was the first time I’d had sex straight from a bubble bath, but maybe he’d had dozens of sexing-in-bath-tubs adventures with women who had a much better idea of how to please a man. I mean, suggesting we get out of the tub? Was that weird? Was I lame? Maybe everybody knew bathtubs were way hotter than beds, and I’d ruined it. Then again, did condoms work in a tub? I had no idea.

When I moved away from him, he tightened his arms around me.

He shook his head. “Don’t, Willa.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t get up in your head. Stay here with me.”

“It occurred to me—”

He kissed me, then murmured, “If you’re thinking, I need to work harder.”

“No, I mean—” I cut myself off with a yelp and then a groan as he made two things perfectly clear. He wasn’t listening to me, and he definitely, definitely did not find me underwhelming.

~ * ~

We did get up eventually. I was pleasantly sore, my muscles noodles. Oliver had arranged to have dinner made ahead of time, so we put a dish of ravioli in the oven. He made a salad while I opened the wine and put plates and silverware on the weathered wood of the dining room table. It was domestic. It felt right, as if post-sex meals were something he and I should be enjoying much more of.

I made myself stop. I wouldn’t taint the present by longing for a future I couldn’t have.

When the ravioli came out of the oven, he put in a pan of bread pudding.

He read my skepticism. “Willa, no. Never make a face at bread pudding. Have you ever had it?”

“It’s mushy bread, not pudding.”

“Have I led you wrong yet?”

“Um, no. Not today.”

“Not ever. You’re going to love bread pudding.”

I dropped into a battered wooden chair across from him. I felt a big dopey smile on my face.

He tried to frown at me. “Now listen. I’m going to talk to you seriously right now, so quit making your hazy post-orgasm face. You’re distracting me.”

“I am hazy and post-orgasmic.” I sat up straighter. “Ooh! Maybe pre-orgasmic too!”

His eyes went a bit darker. “You’re definitely also pre-orgasmic. Stop saying orgasmic. I’m not finished, and you’re distracting me.”

“I’m listening.” I attacked my dinner with gusto.

“Okay. Pay attention. Two things. First, the horse has left the barn, as you would say, but there are two bedrooms. I need you to know I didn’t assume we’d have sex.”

I pointed at his plate with my fork. “Eat! You should eat this delicious meal. We need to refuel from moors and sex.”

He smiled at me and took another bite of ravioli before he continued, “I want you to know that as wonderful as it was, and as glad I am it happened, and will happen again soon, I didn’t expect it. Okay? That’s important.”

I nodded. “Got it. I expected it, though. I’d have been disappointed if you didn’t put out, Oliver. I packed lingerie for you and everything. Also, when I got here and opened my overnight bag, I discovered that Jimmy had considerately packed about seventy condoms for us. A custom variety pack with colors, flavors, textures, everything. So I’m not the only one who expected it, not that it matters. We were overdue for it, right?”

“Well, I brought condoms myself, and seventy is maybe more than we’ll need, but I like his optimism. Anyway, that's the first thing. Now listen to the second thing because it is also important.”

“I am all ears.”

“Are you?” he asked doubtfully. “It seems like you’re mostly focused on eating and thinking about sex, and I need you to pay attention.”

I put down my fork. “I’m listening.”

“All right. It’s not cool to say this right after sex, but I’m just pleased I didn’t blurt it out it when I was inside you. I can’t keep not saying it when you look at me with that face, Willa. Okay?”

I patted his hand encouragingly. “Of course! Only I don’t know what you're talking about.”

“I love you.” He took my hand in his. “I’m in love with you. Completely.”

I stared at him, delicious food and even more delicious sex forgotten for the moment.

He squeezed my hand. “It’s not just that I like you because you’re fun to hang out with, even though you are. It’s not just because you’re smart and funny and strong and confident and resilient and so fucking cool. It’s not because the sight of you curled up with a book with your frowny reading face is the most adorable thing I’ve seen in my life. It’s not just that I want you because you’re gorgeous and because you have such a great ass. It’s all those things and so much more. It’s everything. All of you.”

Why did Jimmy and Eric write the lyrics, I wondered, when Oliver was the most romantic and poetic man in the world?

“I’m not asking anything of you, Willa. Whatever you do next… whatever you need for yourself and your career, whatever you want for life, I’m not ever going to regret this. Every second with you has been worth how much it’s going to hurt if you go. Okay? So don’t… I don’t want you to feel guilty. When you do what comes next, don’t convince yourself I’d have done anything differently because I wouldn’t have.”

I hadn’t done anything other than stare at him while everything else in the world stopped. He was so open and so beautiful and so Oliver my heart almost couldn’t hold all of him.

I pushed my plate to the side and leaned toward him. “Oliver.”

“Willa.”

“Now you listen to me.”

He reached across the table and threaded his fingers through mine.

“I love you.”

His mouth did the super cute thing it did when he wanted to smile but was trying not to. “Yeah?”

“I’m not done. Keep listening. I love you so much. Your voice is the sexiest sound in the entire world. You’re funny and thoughtful. You take care of everybody, and you laughed in the rain and took a bubble bath with me, and you just made me come, for like, a really long time. I know I keep mentioning it, but it bears repeating.”

He tucked my hair behind my ears. “What else?” he whispered.

I was happy to keep going. “I loved you even when you were mad at me,” I said. “I loved you when I was hiding from how I felt. I loved you when you waited for me. Whatever comes next for me… I refuse to regret falling in love with you. I’ll always…” I trailed off, frustrated with myself. I couldn’t find the words to say what I meant, but it was important. “I never knew people could love each other like this. I know you love me, and you want me, and you’re going to let me go do what I need to do anyway. I haven’t ever seen a relationship work this way. Thank you for being that for me.”

The timer on the stove interrupted me.

“Bread pudding,” he said, giving me a soft, Oliver-y smile.

With shaking hands but a great deal of determination, I carried our plates to the sink and found an oven mitt and removed the warm dessert from the oven. I set it aside and held out my hand.

“We have to eat it warm,” he protested.

“I need to have you again first,” I announced.

As it turned out, he wasn’t opposed to letting the bread pudding wait.

~ * ~

The next morning was the second part of our date.

It was Haddon Hall, where Jane Eyre was filmed. Oliver arranged for a private tour, which we almost missed because it’s difficult to get up when you’re in bed with a warm, drowsy, aroused Oliver Everett. Luckily, he can be efficient and on-task when he needs to be.

He took a picture of me so I could text it to Jimmy. As soon as it went through, I called him. “Jimmy! Guess where I am!”

“Well, not on the road yet, which has me worried you’re going to miss dinner. Are you guys keeping an eye on the time?”

“We won’t miss dinner, but guess where I am!”

“Hang on, let me look at the picture again.” I heard a muffled “fuck me!” and then he was back on the line. “Is that Rochester's study? I mean—I have no idea because how would I know? If you think I’ve re-watched Jane Eyre on my own because Toby Stephens, you are sadly mistaken. I’m very busy being a rock star. I don’t have time to for movies, and even if I did, I only like action flicks.”

I laughed. “Of course. But you’re right! I’m in the real Haddon Hall!”

His voice was warm. “Is it the best date of your life, Willoughby?”

“Yes. Nothing else has even come close.”

“I’m glad you’re having a good time.” He paused. “Are you proud of me for not asking if you’re still a virgin of Oliver?”

“I’m so proud of you. Good job, Jimmy!”

“I know, right? My ability to change and grow surprises even me, and I hold myself to a high standard.”

“Be home soon!” I made a kissing noise into the phone and disconnected.

 

Oliver kept my hand in his the whole drive back to London, only letting go when he needed both hands on the wheel, then threading his fingers back through mine as soon as he could.

When he parked the car back at Jimmy’s, Oliver turned to me, held my face gently in his hands, and kissed me.

When we broke apart, that was it.

There would always be pre-moors and post-moors from now on.

But right now it was time for Thanksgiving dinner and for telling my family I’d made a decision.

I was going to go work with Benny.

It was the best opportunity I’d ever had. I’d worked for it and earned it. It wasn’t just going to set me on the path to my career; it was going to full-on catapult me into the job and lifestyle I wanted. I had to take the job. Money enough to help take care of Toby if he needed it. The luxury of one job I loved.

My dreams were coming true, and my heart was breaking a little at the same time.