by Em Taylor
“Such as?”
“Êtes vous et Monsieur Thompson les amis?”
Were me and Mr Thompson friends? I smiled. “Non. Je suis le vétérinaire du caniche de Monsier Thompson. Le chien s’appelle Fluffy.”
Rory roared with laughter because I had said I was the vet to his poodle called Fluffy.
He sat beside me. “I don’t think you need much practice. You were always sharp-tongued in French and English.”
“I always wanted you to teach me Italian, but you never would.”
He buried his head in his hands. “That would have been a lot of work, and frankly, I had much better and more pleasurable things to do with you than teach you Italian. I was a terrible person. I thought only with my small head.”
I laughed. “I can’t say I ever objected to what you did with your small head. But back to work.”
“Glad to hear it.” He looked up at me with a devilish smile. “Anyway, I’m going to ask you to speak for twenty minutes. I’ll also get some of the nicer kids prepped with questions, if that’s okay. There will be photos taken for the school website.” He watched me expectantly, as if waiting for a complaint.
“That’s fine,” I said.
“Cool. You’ll be asked to sign a disclaimer with regards to the photos.”
“No problem. I really don’t mind doing this.”
“Even though I was a complete—”
“Rory, it’s in the past. Let’s be friends for the sake of Olivia and David. I don’t want bad feeling to overshadow their big day.”
The doorbell rang and I jumped.
“I’ll get it since I’m paying,” he said.
“Remember to tip the driver.”
He gave me a withering look. “Of course I tip the driver. What kind of person do you think I am?”
He was back in a couple of minutes with the pizza, sides, and juice, and we got stuck in. As we ate and worked, we fell into a familiar way of working like when we’d spent many nights studying at university. However, in those days we’d been too skint for takeaway pizza, so it was generally cheap, frozen pizza and diluted juice. The comforts of a good wage were nice.
“Do you think you’re ready?” he asked eventually, shuffling the pieces of paper we’d been scribbling on back into order.
I stared at the boxes on the table containing a few pieces of cold pizza with congealed cheese on top and nodded. “Yep. Bring it on.”
“The day after tomorrow at eleven thirty?”
I glanced at him. “It’s all sorted, Rory. I already called my boss, and she was okay about moving my appointments. That’s the time we normally have some free time for collegiate working, so it works out well. I’ll pop up to the vet school tomorrow and see if they have any leaflets, preferably in French or with French on them.”
“You’re an absolute star.” He leaned forward, reaching for the box. “Let’s get this cleared up and then I’ll get going.”
“Do you want coffee?” I asked.
“Nah. School night,” he said. “Need to get to bed early. But thanks.” He collected the bits of pizza into a single box, and I stopped him with one hand on his.
He glanced up at my touch, and I whipped my hand back into my lap. Rubbing my fingers against my palm, I shifted on my seat. “Don’t worry about cleaning up. I’ll get it.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Well ...” he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and removed his car keys from the pocket. “Thanks, Lacey. You’re a life saver.”
I walked him to the door. Pulling it open, I shuffled on the spot and swallowed hard. Did I hug him? A kiss on the cheek?
I lifted my arm slightly then lowered it back to my side and leaned against the door. Forcing a smile, I peered up at him. “Drive safely.”
He nodded, his smile seeming forced. And if I wasn’t mistaken, a flicker of disappointment shone in his eyes. “Always do.”
Why was it awkward with him suddenly? I hated it. And why was he not making any moves? Did he have someone?
After he had driven off, I walked inside and grabbed my phone to text Olivia.
Me: Has Rory got a girlfriend?
Olivia: No. Not that I know of.
Me: I saw him tonight. He came over so I can help him with a thing for work. We had pizza and he didn’t try anything.
Olivia: Earlier today you didn’t want him to try anything. You said you couldn’t go through that again. So it’s good he’s not pushing things.
Me: He’s such a dog if he’s moved on so quickly.
Olivia: Or he’s a good guy who respects your boundaries.
I frowned at my phone. That was the thing about besties. They had the habit of telling you straight when there was a possibility you were out of line—and Olivia was a master at it.
I cleared up the left-over pizza and the boxes, recycling what I could and binning the rest. As I got ready for bed, I mulled over what Olivia had said. She was right, of course. Since Rory was definitely not for me, it was best he kept his distance.
Chapter 13
Rory
LACEY EXCEEDED MY EXPECTATIONS, bringing in slides for the interactive whiteboard so the kids could come out and identify what they thought was wrong with each animal. Their unsophisticated French coped very well.
When the kids had asked how she learned French, she explained she’d improved her French by speaking it regularly with language students at university. She wisely didn’t explain the university student she practiced with was me. By the time she finished, the pupils were so entranced, they all either wanted to be vets, veterinary nurses, or work in boarding kennels when they left school.
I took Lacey into the staffroom where several teachers were arriving for lunch.
“I met some of the children leaving your classroom, Rory. They were all extremely excited about your careers talk,” said Mrs Ronson, her brow lifting with surprise.
I stood up straighter and tensed. I hated she was surprised I was good at my job—I was always good at my job, and I kept getting her out of scrapes. Even this had been her scrape. She had told the headteacher she would organise a career talk in the Modern Languages Department, then had passed the buck to me.
“Miss Lacey Kendrick did all the hard work. She’s an exceptionally talented vet and a brilliant French speaker.”
Mrs Ronson—or Vera now we were in private—turned to Lacey and smiled. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
“So this is the Lacey we’ve heard so much about,” said my co-worker Janet, coming over and knocking Vera out of the way to shake Lacey’s hand.
I shook my head at Janet. I had mentioned a time or two on nights out when I had got drunk that Lacey was the only girl I had ever loved.
“It’s lovely to meet you. You’re a real heartbreaker,” Janet said.
Lacey laughed. “Well, I didn’t break this one’s heart.”
“Oh, pet, I think you did, even if he was the douche-canoe who left you.”
“How could I have broken his heart?” she asked, cute little frown lines appearing between her brows.
I made frantic slicing movements across my throat at Janet. When Lacey looked to me, I stopped mid-slice and grinned.
“I have next period off.” I moved my hand onto her shoulder, trying to look suave and sophisticated. “Let me take you to lunch as a thank you.”
“I was interested in hearing your colleague’s answer.”
“Oh, Janet gets her English and German mixed up all the time,” I blustered, and both women gave me a hard stare. “Jesus.”
“Prayer is not going to help you,” Lacey said. “Carry on, Janet. How could I have broken his heart?”
“By being you. He has always been mad about you and always will be. Since he met up with you again last week, he’s been like a kid at Christmas.”
I put my face in my hands. “Janet.”
“She needs to know you’re an eejit who knows he was an eejit and is sorry because he
’s still madly in love with her.”
“Way to emasculate a guy,” I muttered.
Lacey glanced at Janet and shrugged as she expelled a weighted breath. “It’s too late. He hurt too many people.”
Janet frowned. “I thought ... I know he’s a French teacher, but he said nothing about a ménage.”
Lacey lifted her hand to her mouth and let out a bark of laughter.
“Oh God, no. I meant my parents and brother. They loved him like family and were gutted when he left me. We were together for such a long time. It broke their hearts, especially my mum’s.”
A dull ache flared under my breastbone. It returned whenever I thought of Lacey, her parents, and Jonas. Jonas who must have now been in his mid-twenties. Jonas who could pack some punch as he proved a couple of years ago when he met me at Kelvingrove Art Galleries. I’d been re-experiencing Salvador Dali’s The Christ of St John of the Cross one Sunday after it had been moved from St Mungo’s, and he had let his feelings be known he had not forgiven me over the way I had treated his sister.
“Maybe it’s time for forgiveness all around,” said Janet. “It was nice meeting you at last, Lacey. I’m glad the careers talk went well, but I have marking to do.” She gave my ex-girlfriend a friendly smile, went to the fridge and picked out a can of juice and a box of salad, and disappeared out of the door.
I squeezed Lacey’s shoulder. “Come on, I owe you lunch.”
Lacey
RORY TOOK ME TO LUNCH in another small Italian place after I had given my career talk. I couldn’t shut him up throughout the meal, and he was still singing my praises as we finished eating.
“You were great. I’ve never seen the kids respond to someone the way they did to you. Even Calum and Jamie tried to talk to you in French. I struggle to get more than a one-word answer to a direct question out of them on a good day.” He beamed at me.
I toyed with the edge of the napkin, peering up through my lashes as heat rose in my cheeks. “I’m glad I could help out. Hopefully I’ve inspired at least one kid.”
“I think you inspired the whole class.” He reached out and covered my hand with his. “I bet you’re a great vet,” he said suddenly. “You’re so fucking passionate about animals.”
I shrugged. “I do okay. I just want to do more. I hate seeing dogs on the street with their owners. I know the homeless people get more money if they have a dog, and the dog is company for them, but the animals need health care too.”
“Let me think about ways to help raise money in the school. We’ll see if there is something we can do,” Rory said, his smile gentle as he slid his chair away from the table. “I need to head back to work. I’ll pay the bill on the way out, and I’ll see you at the hen and stag dos.”
He stood and bent down to kiss me lightly on the mouth. Then he was gone, his back to me as he stood at the bar paying for our lunch.
I touched my fingers to my lips and tried not to smile. Damn, he was a terrible influence on me. One peck on the lips and I was a goner.
However, I refused to let it happen. I was older and wiser, and no matter how cute he looked—no matter how shapely his arse in those tight trousers, or what his smile did to my girly bits—I was not falling for him again.
Not at all.
Chapter 14
Eleven and a half years earlier
Rory
I’D NEVER SEEN LACEY so nervous. She paced the length of my bedroom as I packed stuff to take with us to Glencoe. I was going to meet her parents for the first time, and we were staying for the long weekend.
Lacey stopped patrolling the front of my wardrobe, grabbed a shirt off a hanger, and threw it at me.
I caught it before it hit me in the face and frowned at the shirt.
“It’s the Highlands. I know I’m not religious, but everyone goes to church. It’s the centre of village life, and we’ll be expected to go. You need to look smart,” she said.
I shrugged and folded the shirt neatly into my gym bag. “That’s okay. Calm down.” Her constant pacing and flapping were making me nervous.
She sat on the bed, wringing her hands in her lap. “Rory, we might have separate rooms. I haven’t told my mum we’re sleeping together. I mean ... how the hell do you bring that up in conversation? Jesus, she might be expecting me to still be a virgin when I’m forty-five.”
I barked out a laugh. “That horse has bolted.”
She slapped my arm. “You know what I mean.”
I sat down beside her and took her hands in mine. “Babe, I don’t mind if your parents know or don’t know we’re sleeping together. I just want you to be comfortable. I can keep my hands off you for a weekend if it helps.”
Lacey’s features relaxed, and she leaned against my shoulder. “You really are the best boyfriend.”
I chuckled. “Not even close, sweetheart. I can’t—”
“Don’t Rory. I don’t need things. It’s the kind of guy you are that matters, not the stuff you buy me.”
I sighed. “I still bought supermarket flowers for Valentine’s Day because they were all I could afford.”
“And I loved them.”
“And the frozen pizza for dinner?”
“You know I love pepperoni.”
“Other guys—”
“Would make a fuss about going to church even though they don’t believe in God, but you didn’t. Other guys would be promising to sneak into my room to get their hole this weekend, yet you haven’t.”
“Get their hole? Lacey, babe, you have such a delicate turn of phrase.”
She laughed. “I’m nervous.”
“I like you nervous. You have a saucy mouth when you’re nervous.”
I tickled her, causing her to fall back on the bed. Climbing on top of her to pin her in place, I kept up my assault, causing her to squirm back and forth. Her constant movement roused my cock, and she rubbed against it through my jeans.
When I ground against her, she let out a squeal, and smacked my arm. “Rory, we need to get on the road.”
“You and your dirty mouth started it. While I enjoy making love to you, I kind of like the idea of getting my hole from my sweet, gorgeous girl.”
She bit her lip and a wicked gleam came into her eye.
I was a goner.
WE LEFT TWO HOURS LATER than planned. As Lacey drove up the side of Loch Lomond, she hammered away about what to expect.
“My brother is fifteen. He will probably think you’re the bee’s knees. For him, having a big sister is totally lame, so he’ll see you as a big brother. He plays shinty, so he’ll probably ask you loads about the uni hockey team.”
“Shinty is a bit like hockey, right?”
“Yeah, but it’s more violent. Hockey is for wusses.”
“You didn’t think I was a wuss when I was drilling my cock into you an hour ago, babe.”
“Don’t make me crash the car, you wretch.” She pressed her lips together, and even in the fading light, I could see the crimson creeping up her cheeks.
“You mean the memory of me getting my hole is enough to make you crash?” I asked in a low whisper.
“Fuck, I hate you. I’m about to introduce you to my parents and you’re getting me all turned on.”
“There are plenty of places we could park around here. Lots of trees and lovely views.”
“We’re already late,” she said, pointing at the campervan we’d been stuck behind for the better part of ten miles.
“I was joking.” I cocked my head to the side and adjusted my position in my seat. “Half-joking. Your red cheeks are making me think of when you give me a blow job, and it’s not helping.”
“You have a filthy mind,” she muttered.
I agreed wholeheartedly.
“What else do I need to know?” I asked trying to change the subject, in the hope I could get rid of my uncomfortable boner.
“Uh, the last time I had a boyfriend in high school, my dad pretended he hated him. My dad has a shotgun licence, and he got th
e shotgun out and cleaned it in front of Anthony, saying that if anything happened to me, they’d never find his body. Then he gave Anthony a pat on the back and reminded him to have me home for ten. Anthony nearly wet himself.”
I nodded. “Good to know. He likes mind games and is protective of you. It’s better to have parents who care too much than parents who don’t give a shit about you.”
She glanced at me on the short section of straight road. “Shit, Rory, I’m sorry. I never thought.”
I shrugged. I got over the fact I’d had shit parents many years ago. I’d been brought up by my gran from the age of nine because both my parents were junkies who spent so much time in and out of jail. It had been Gran’s or the care system. They’d died sometime in the year or so after I’d gone to live with Gran. Mum overdosed and Dad got into a fight over drug money and was stabbed.
Gran didn’t give much of a shit, so I stayed quiet, kept my room tidy, and had a part-time job on a milk round to pay for myself. We lived our separate lives until she died when I was seventeen. I ended up in a home for young people who wanted to stay on at school and who needed support but not looking after full time. It suited me. Then I went to university, and a year later, met Lacey. Now I lived with her—not that her parents knew.
“Don’t apologise. People should cherish you, Lace. I certainly do, and I’m looking forward to meeting the people who cherished you first,” I said.
“Fuck off, Rory.” She swiped at her eye. “If you could only stop saying such nice sentimental stuff, maybe I wouldn’t be falling in love with you. We’re too young.”
I watched the scenery go by. “You love me?”
“Does that freak you out?” she asked, concentrating more than she needed to on the road.
“No. It’s just no one’s ever loved me before.”
“Aw, Rory, your parents and gran will have loved you. They just didn’t know how to show it.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, willing away the lump in my throat.
“If you say so.” I said, looking out the window. “God, you’re brave.”