by Anna Bloom
“I never thought this would happen.” I still balanced in his hold, a naked plank.
“Ronnie.” He lowered me and I shivered as our skin touched again. “This is happening. Right now. Happening.”
“I live so far from you. And what about your boys? What will they say? I mean, they are already messed up from your divorce, and Julie…” I pulled a face at the mention of his ex-wife.
“Ronnie. Stop, okay? Stop.” His hands smoothed my hair. “Do you believe for one minute that this isn’t perfect?”
How could it be anything other than perfection? It was Matthew. “No.”
“Then let’s take it one step at a time. You know that I love you. I always have. Every moment since I met you there has always been a door carved with your name in my heart.” He let out a small exhalation. “But we both need to be responsible for the choices we’ve made over the last eighteen years. I won’t let my boys down.”
My heart clanged. “God, Matthew. I’d never say that. Ever.”
His thumb brushed the edge of my cheek. “And you, I mean, Hannah lost her father. It wasn’t a bitter divorce like Ewan and Jack have been through. Paul...” He tripped over Paul’s name the way that I did Julie's and it made my heart squeeze. “Paul died. You loved him. I’ll respect that.”
Guilt pressed on me until I wanted to sink down into the mattress and never surface again. I fought it though. I didn’t have anything to feel guilty about, not anymore. “He died five years ago, Matthew. Hannah misses him, but I think she’s okay with life moving on.” It wasn’t something I’d discussed with my daughter, mainly because up until very recently our conversations had been monosyllabic or shouted at a hundred decibels.
His expression shadowed.
I didn’t want to talk about exes and ghosts. I had to get back to London. Time slipped with ease around us.
“What are you going to do with your dad’s shop? Have you thought about it?”
“Since yesterday when you told me to make it into a greengrocers?”
Angling onto my elbows, I gazed at his face. “Were you disappointed with my suggestion?” The rebrand for Supersaver Foods had bought us back together. “I just went with what was in my heart.”
God, my heart ached for him. For the relationship he’d struggled through with his dad. For the price he’d paid—that we’d both paid really—for his loyalty to his family and his dad’s memory.
“It was perfect.”
“So, Greengrocer Matty?”
I shrieked as he grabbed me and rolled us over. “Matty?” He arched an eyebrow, his lips a whisper from mine. “Please don’t call me that. I’ve held on to being your Matthew for far too long now for you to go and change it.”
“Okay. Matt?”
He nipped at my lower lip, setting my belly on fire with longing. “Matthew.”
“Okay, Greengrocer Matthew.”
I submitted willingly to the onslaught of his kisses until, “Matthew!” was called up the stairs.
He pulled back, his eyes open wide. “It’s my bloody mother.” His arms froze into a protective cage around me.
“She has a key?” I grinned. “Matty.”
He took a moment to appraise me with curved lips. “Don’t judge me, Ronnie. You live with your mother.”
He had a point.
“We’ve come to see how your broken heart is!” A gruff Scottish shout—not his mother's—called up the stairs.
“Oh shit. That’s Ryan.” Matthew’s wide eyes met mine.
“We’ve got single malt and pretzels.”
I snorted and clutched him close, laughing into his warm skin. “Pretzels?”
His smile stole all the air in the room. “It’s a desperate secret of mine. I rely on pretzels the way some men rely on alcohol. I didn’t want you to find that out for a while.”
“Matthew.” A creak on the bottom stair had us jumping out of bed, a tangle of cream cotton and limbs. “Where are you?”
My pulse raced in my chest, the familiar band of tightness wrapping itself between my ribs and muscles. Sweat prickled my palms, until Matthew dissipated it with one easy smile.
“I mean, I could not be here heartbroken.” He grumbled under his breath as he yanked his jeans on, not bothering with his boxers. I am only human, and I took a good moment to stare at the curve of muscle bunching across his back as he buttoned his fly. “Heartbroken, my ass. Stupid family,” he grumbled some more, not even noticing my gratuitous ogling of his arse.
“I don’t know what to wear. My clothes from yesterday are disgusting.” I cast my glance to where the other day he’d had spare sweats lying on a chair; not that I wanted to meet his mother in tracksuit pants, ones rolled at the ankle too. I might as well write ‘I’ve just fucked your son’ using a plane in the sky.
“Top drawer.” He nodded at the dresser.
Frowning, I reached for the dresser and slid open the drawer. There, folded neatly, were the clothes I’d left behind in my suitcase before I'd run away. I’d left them thinking I’d never see them again, a small price to pay for protecting my heart. “What? You cleared a drawer for me?”
He shrugged, his grin epic. “More of a shrine, but whatever.” Turning, he made for the door, unleashing his thunderous scowl in its direction. “I’m going to fend them off. Bloody interfering idiots.” His grumbling made me smile.
“Matthew?”
He turned at the door expectantly, pushing a hand through his hair and making it stand on end.
“Do your family always turn up with single malt and pretzels when they think you’re upset?”
For a moment his face opened with bashful sincerity as he contemplated his response. “Sometimes.”
I nodded slowly but then grinned. “See! I knew my mother was useless. She doesn’t even bring me a cup of tea when I’m having a minor crisis, let alone decent whisky and a snack.”
Matthew opened his mouth to speak, but the loud thud of footsteps echoed on the stairs. “Bloody hell.” His eyes widened and he shot me a beautiful, almost secret smile before pulling on the door. “Okay, Okay. I’m here.”
He pulled the door shut softly behind him and I sat back on the bed, falling onto the mattress for a moment as I listened to his footsteps and his continuing grumble. I grinned.
I was really here.
Like really and truly here. In Matthew's house, with Matthew. My clothes were folded in a drawer—in his house.
That meant something.
Something huge that I couldn’t comprehend.
“Well, where the fuck have you been? We’ve been trying to call you for hours. We thought you’d launched yourself off a bridge in despair.”
“That’s not even funny. You’re such an arsehole, Ryan.” A scuffle followed, with someone saying “Ouch,” after a noise that almost sounded like a skull hitting plasterwork.
“Git.” Ah, that was definitely Matthew.
Tucking my knees up and wrapping my arms around them, I grinned to myself.
“We weren’t to know she was the one you were always obsessed with.” Ryan wasn’t moving. “If you spoke to us more, we wouldn’t keep putting our feet in it.”
“Your size elevens could fit in any gap no matter how small. Anyway, I’m fine. So sod off.”
Their voices pitched to a whisper followed by a low deep sigh that I’d recognise from Matthew anywhere. “What was she saying?”
I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but that didn’t stop me stepping closer to the door.
“Lennie said she was mouthing off on the playground again. Just the usual shit, the fact you’d see sense soon and that now you were broke you’d be back.”
My blood ran icy.
“It’s been five years and I was broke when I met her. I don’t see the relevance myself.”
“Just a warning for when you get the boys later.”
There was a pause. “Fuck.”
“You didn’t forget, did you?”
“Yes. No. I mean—”
&nbs
p; “Want Lennie to grab them from school?”
“Please.” I hated the way Matthew’s voice strained around the edges. It no longer contained the rolling hills and major chords I’d held onto in my memory for so long. It was the voice from the man who’d stood in my office, angry and resentful, closed and aloof.
“Anyway. Did Liam tell you he spoke to Ronnie? He’s going to London next week to talk business. You could go… or you could get him to kidnap her, bring her back and we will do Dad’s dinner all over again, apart from this time Liam and I won’t ruin it for you.”
“Ryan, you didn’t ruin anything. It’s fine.”
“It’s not though, is it. You’re miserable, always have been.”
I couldn’t take sitting there listening anymore. Pushing back my nerves and participating in some erratic deep breathing, I got up and pulled some clothes out of the dresser, balancing and drawing them on, trying not to fall over in my rush. Dressed, I opened the door and stepped around it. “Hi.” I gave Matthew’s giant of a brother a small wave, my cheeks the temperature of the sun.
His eyes widened and then his face splintered into a face splitting smile. “Oh, right. I see. Not a pretzel emergency?” He slapped Matthew on the back, knocking him forward a few inches.
Matthew ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up at messy angles. “No. Not an emergency.” With his T-shirt inside out and crooked, his feet bare, he looked practically edible.
Ryan gave him the once over. “Like that, I see.”
“I don’t know.” My voice sounded small between the giants and I forced myself to talk louder. “I’m pretty hungry, pretzels wouldn’t go amiss.”
“Can I have my keys back please?” Matthew asked, holding his palm out and shooting his brother down with a death stare that would have made me tremble.
“Matthew? What are you all whispering about up there?”
At his mother’s shout, he met my gaze and I gave him a shrug. This was fast. Supersonic fast.
If I stopped to think about it, then I knew I’d panic and get off the crazy train. But somehow the destination the train of crazy was going to seemed more important than ever. If I got off now, then what would I miss out on? What had I already missed out on because I wasn’t brave enough?
“Just coming.” He shot me a breathtaking smile. “Want to hide in the bedroom until they’ve gone?”
I shook my head and swallowed, although inside my stomach wrapped itself into a familiar knot.
“So, you're hanging around?” Ryan knocked me with his shoulder, nearly pushing me off my feet. Matthew tutted and grabbed me upright.
“Maybe.” My heart raced and I searched Matthew’s face with my gaze.
“For about three minutes until she has to go back to London.” I loved the grouch in Matthew’s tone. His moods were far sexier when not directed at me and my branding company.
Oh shit. Work!
Bollocks!
I hadn’t told them I wasn’t coming in.
Ryan eyed me over. Thicker and more wide set than Matthew, he still held the dark similarities. You couldn’t ignore they were brothers. “Long distance romance, is it?” He cocked an eyebrow. “You should have introduced us properly the other night, Matt. We thought she was business.” I giggled as he waggled his brows.
“Fuck off, Ryan.”
I widened my eyes at Matthew. “Such language.”
Ryan laughed. “He’s as rough as a bear's arse, Ronnie. I thought you two used to know one another from university?”
I gazed longingly at Matthew as we edged our way along the purple themed landing; a sound of clattering mugs or glasses came from down below.
Yes, we used to know one another; still did, so it seemed deep down. That knowledge filled my chest with warmth like the kindle of a fire in the home hearth on a cold and wintery night.
“We did know one another.” I tried to stand up taller while not sounding like a territorial lunatic—not an easy balance. “He was always incredibly polite.”
Ryan held his stomach and doubled over, fake laughter bouncing off the lavender walls. He pretended to struggle to breathe while Matthew watched him, shaking his head. “He’s conned you, lassie.” He darted away from Matthew’s foot that kicked out at him. I pushed against the wall in case their play fight took me out—which it could easily considering the fact I only came up to their chests. I’d be a casualty of war.
Ryan straightened and cleared his throat, his expression dropping into one of serious thoughtfulness. “Anyway… I can’t wait for this.” He cracked a grin at me. “MAM!” He hollered so loud the walls shook.
Matthew grabbed for him, but Ryan was too quick and ducked out of his grasp, legging it to the stairs and clattering down them. “Are you ready to see Matty boy blush?” he shouted while Matthew sighed loudly.
Lynn, Matthew’s mother, retorted something I couldn’t make out.
“Matthew’s been caught with a girl.” Ryan sang.
Right. Well that’s embarrassing. Guess I didn’t need to worry about skywriting our morning activities after all.
“Sorry.” Matthew mumbled, and Ryan was right. His cheeks tinted with the most breathtaking stain of pink.
“I think you will find I don’t scare easily.” It was a lie. I scared like a ghost afraid of its own shadow, but seeing Matthew’s pink-stained skin, the light in his eyes, his kiss still on my mouth, it made me want my statement to be true.
He pulled a face and rubbed at his jaw. “I’m really hoping not.”
I tried so hard to stand tall as I walked into Matthew's kitchen, with its glossy AGA and inquisitive eyed mother. She had the kettle in her hand, but quickly put it on the table when she saw me. From my side eye I caught her handbag was on the chair Matthew and I had fucked on just the other day. I filed the thought away so I could cringe over it later.
“Ronnie, love?”
Lynn Carling looked almost as confused as me at me being there.
My cheeks scorched and I resisted the urge to put my fingers against them. “I’m so sorry I left your dinner early the other night,” I offered as an ice breaker. “There was a misunderstanding.”
She grinned and stepped closer, pulling me into an unexpected but reassuringly firm hug.
“Don’t apologise. I’m glad you did. You kicked that big lad into action,” she said and nodded her head to where Matthew reached across the table and plucked some grapes out of a fruit bowl and tossed one into his mouth.
Eating grapes, sexed up, the Matthew Carling way.
I stared at him like he was a brand-new day.
“I had a plan in place.” He gave his brother a hard, flinty glare.
“Ronnie, love.” Lynn pulled my obsessive stare off Matthew. I loved how she called me, Ronnie love. Every letter threw swathes of warmth around me, filling my lungs with sunshine. “I am very glad you came back.”
She turned for a cupboard and pulled small glasses out. “I think we need a toast.”
“Mam! For God's sake, it’s been a few hours.”
Ryan started to hum that dirge people walk down the aisle to at their weddings and my palms prickled with sweat. I wiped them on the spare jeans from Matthew's drawer and he watched me carefully.
“Ryan, get out.” He didn’t take his eyes off me. “Mam, if you don’t mind, I’ve got to get Ronnie on a route home to London. Hannah will be finishing school in a few hours.” I wilted under the heaven and slate gaze but managed to nod my head.
Lynn didn’t hesitate, despite her other son lounging against the kitchen counter with a smirk on his face. “Ronnie. You’ll bring Hannah up?”
Oh. “Ugh, ooh. Ugh.” My words slipped away. Yes of course. Once she’s adjusted to the fact I’m in love with a man who isn’t her dad.
“She’s more than welcome to stay with us. You both are. How about a family dinner next weekend?”
I nodded. A minuscule bob of my head.
“Mam, please.” Matthew’s tone softened and he gave
his mother a small smile.
“Oh, yes, of course.”
She caught Ryan’s elbow and towed him for the door.
“Wait, my whisky.” He yelled, but she wouldn’t let him turn back.
The front door shut leaving Matthew and me alone in the kitchen.
“Sorry.” He watched me, his hands in his pockets. I took a moment to admire the dark denim love affair.
“It’s okay.”
His dark brows furrowed. I wanted to blot my fingers against them.
“Can we check the train times? I don’t want Hannah to think I’m abandoning her.”
I knew my own emotions led my thoughts, but the connection of us in his purple bedroom seemed to seep away in the bright light of his kitchen.
“Sure. Looks like the snow has passed.”
I shook my head, almost in a sexed-out daze. “I forgot it snowed.”
A shadow flit across his face. “I won’t forget you walking away from me, snow falling. It was desperately poetic.”
Just like that he waved his magic wand and eased the tension and stole the tight bands around my chest.
Matthew magic.
“Don’t worry about my mam’s invite. Honestly, I think she’s just excited.”
“To not see you miserable anymore?”
God, I so wanted to be the one to make him forget what miserable even meant.
“Something like that.”
I tried to fight the unsettled feeling. This was Matthew. I’d dreamt of him for fifteen years and now he stood in front of me. “What was Ryan saying about the playground?”
Matthew reached a hand for me. “Just Julie being herself.”
“I thought you started divorce proceedings five years ago.”
He nodded, holding my gaze. “I did. It’s been complicated, I told you that, and I have no doubt Lennie and Ruth would have been gossiping again at dinner the other night.”
I nodded. There was little point disagreeing.
“But she’s telling people you're getting back together?”
“It’s just nonsense.”
“Of course.” My fingers twitched to reach for him. “Shall we look at how I’m getting home? You’ve got to pick the boys up from school, right?” In the playground where your ex-wife has been talking about you like you are still hers.