It’s not just good sex. It’s good everything. I’m at peace and this is coming home.
I was a fool to think staying away from him was an option, or that I could ever stop loving him.
I’ll just have to find a way to cope with whatever is coming my way.
Chapter 15
‘There is nothing better than a friend, unless it is a friend with chocolate’
Linda Grayson
From callum@callum’scook-off.com
To caitlino’[email protected]
Subject: You won’t believe it
Hey, how are things? You’re never going to believe this but I’m actually going to be on a Sex in the Suburbs South of France special! I know, I know, after everything I said but my agent thinks it’s a great opportunity, it will all help promote the French cookbook so it’s time to swallow my pride. Maybe it’s also penance for being so quick to judge. JoJo has got me thinking recently about a lot of things and let’s just say I’m working on it …
And my plans for the future? I’m working on those too. Let’s just say I’ve got a few ideas percolating … I’ll let you know when they’re brewed!
From [email protected]
To [email protected]
Subject: Go for it!
I think you should go for it, JoJo. I know what I said before but if Cal wasn’t on the level he wouldn’t have offered to turn down the Sex in the Suburbs gig at the Château would he? He seems like a nice guy, if you can tell from the telly! He’s certainly hot and I think all things considered you should give him the benefit of the doubt. That’s my sisterly advice FWIW!
Hugs,
Annabel xx
When I planned Poppy’s hen weekend via email with Michelle, Poppy’s friend from the UK, I hadn’t anticipated being eaten up with a personal dilemma. Though the distraction of the hen weekend activities is very welcome and might be just what I need. I still have absolutely no idea what the fallout has been from the video of my kissing Cal at Mirepoix market. I’m itching to look, just so I can know what’s being said about me, but Cal has convinced me the way to rise above it all is to simply not look at it. Well, virtually convinced me anyway.
I’m sure there will be people out there who are sure we were deliberately putting on a show but honestly, I was so caught up in the moment, so distracted, that being watched couldn’t have been further from my mind.
‘Are you okay?’ Poppy asks, frowning a little as we drive into the village to pick up Sophie on the way to Carcassonne airport where we’ll be meeting Michelle.
‘Yes, I’m fine.’ I put on a bright smile and try to stay focused on the details.
Flump, Peanut, Treacle and Pickwick are also in the car, completely overexcited, picking up on the unusual activity at home. The guesthouse is empty, ready for Michelle and other guests who are staying for the wedding.
There will only be four hens for this stage of the proceedings as Sarah, Leo’s old veterinary practice partner in Paris, can’t fly out until tomorrow and Angeline is needed at the veterinary clinic in St Quentin today.
‘Are you sure that you are okay to do this so soon after your gran’s funeral?’ Poppy asks me for the second time this morning.
‘Of course. It’s all right, Poppy. I’ve just got a few things on my mind.’
Like how to wipe the floor with my ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend, how to do it while taking the moral high ground, getting closure and making a new statement to the world about who I am. All while ignoring the temptation to scour the internet for every new mention or bad picture of me.
Cal says I have to change the narrative, that I need to refuse to let anyone else label me. That it’s up to me how I define myself. Action and not reaction. That’s the idea anyway. I know in my gut it’s the right thing to do. My self-preservation instinct told me to run away last year and I think, given the fragile emotional state I was in, that it was the right thing to do. Yet something about not fighting back with every atom of my being meant the darkness ended up being turned inwards. I have a feeling standing up for myself now, while utterly terrifying, will be ultimately far less depressing.
I haven’t told Poppy yet about Cal’s idea that I use the Sex in the Suburbs Château dinner to do all of that. It’s so close to the wedding I think she might really freak out if she adds worrying about me to her already extensive list.
It might be impossible to keep quiet though. Maybe I’ll tell her and Sophie this weekend. It might depend on how many cocktails are consumed.
Once we’ve picked up Sophie, I let her take over the conversation with Poppy. It gives me space to mull things over. By the time we’ve picked up Michelle from Carcassonne I’m satisfied that Poppy is no longer suspicious and fretting over my odd mood. She’s far too busy catching up with Michelle.
We then head to Castelnaudry where we’re hiring a boat for a chilled-out afternoon on the Canal du Midi. That’s the plan anyway.
At first everything goes as planned. The dogs are all on leads so they can’t go for impromptu swims. Sophie seems to know what she’s doing with the boat so that means I can relax, at least for a bit.
We have prosecco which we mix with crême de cassis to make Kir Royales. We’ll have proper Kir Royales with champagne later on and plenty of cocktails tomorrow. I’m being stingy with the alcohol, aware that booze and boats aren’t a good mix, plus I need to drive home. Poppy is convinced that something disastrous is going to happen during the hen weekend or when the stags go off hiking and camping in the Pyrenees tomorrow.
It is true that things often tend to happen around her. The psychotic goat incident is legendary in the village and the time the marauding donkeys tried to wreck the village inspection day last year springs to mind. I plan to show her that being really organised means we can avoid unnecessary drama.
There’s not a cloud in the sky and it’s a shade of blue I’m not sure I’ve ever seen back in England. Light dances on the still surface of the water and a gentle breeze ruffles the silvery green boughs of the willows on the towpath. I watch the people we pass on the towpath and the other boats and wonder what problems they are dealing with, beneath the calm surface. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt it’s that beneath the surface we all have our hidden depths.
‘How are things with you, JoJo?’ Michelle is having a Flump cuddle. He has the softest fur and absolutely loves being cuddled. He is snuggling his head into her chest asking for more scratches. ‘This is one super cute puppy you have here.’
‘Isn’t he just?’ I beam.
I know I’ve caught the dog parent bug big time and I’m as dotty about and doting on Flump as Poppy is with her dogs. I still love her rescue mutts, especially Pickwick, but the bond that Flump and I have is something truly special.
‘And how is your love life?’ Michelle’s tone is a bit too casual.
‘Poppy’s already told you all the gory details, hasn’t she?’ I roll my eyes.
‘She has told me also,’ Sophie calls across. ‘But we also saw the kiss, you know, on the internet.’
Poppy’s face blooms a pretty pink.
‘Sorry, JoJo, I’m just so happy for you. Cal is a lovely guy and I’m thrilled for both of you. You know Sophie and Michelle would never talk to the press, don’t you?’
She bites her lip, anxiety plain in her expression.
‘It’s fine,’ I say, because it’s her hen weekend and I know she honestly didn’t mean any harm by it.
‘That was some kiss. Is he really as hot in the flesh as he seems on the telly?’ Michelle hands me back Flump because he’s wriggling to see the ducks in the water.
We’ve seen the odd jogger and a few dog walkers along the towpath, which has got our canine crew excited, but mostly it’s peaceful. I feel like I can finally take a breath.
‘Absolument.’ Sophie replies, an emphatic ‘absolutely’, at the same time as Poppy says, ‘God, yes.’
Yes, my boyfriend is sinfully sexy. Is he actually m
y boyfriend though? I wish I knew for sure that this isn’t just a casual fuckbuddy thing or a summer romance that’s just convenient before he goes back to England. What if I’m reading too much into our relationship? I hate that I have become this person.
‘JoJo?’ Michelle says my name with an air of expectancy. I’ve clearly missed part of the conversation.
‘I think she’s day dreaming about Cal,’ Poppy teases me.
‘Sort of.’ I feel heat creeping up my neck in spite of the gentle breeze keeping it from being too hot today. I take another sip of my drink. I love the rich blackcurrant taste of the cassis combined with the bubbles. Poppy is the one who got me into drinking this and now Kir Royale is my favourite drink.
‘What’s up?’ Michelle’s frank gaze unnerves me. I’d forgotten how direct she is. When she visited last summer, I was staying with Poppy incognito, hiding in St Quentin. It was Michelle who broke the news of my identity to a clueless Poppy.
Actually, Michelle is someone whose advice I would appreciate, given she gets how the celebrity world works a bit better than Poppy. Maybe now would be a better time to talk to them than tomorrow when Sarah and Angeline are with us. I’ve nothing against those two; I just don’t know them as well.
‘I think we’re at that stage where you don’t really know where you stand, you know?’ I say. ‘Even if I know how I feel, how do I know that the label I’m applying to the relationship is the same as Cal’s label? Are we friends with benefits, or a summer romance that will end when Cal goes back the UK? Or are we boyfriend and girlfriend? And then there’s the question of whether we are exclusive or not …’
‘Hey, take a breath,’ Michelle says. ‘A nice deep breath.’
I do as she says, and I feel a little better.
‘I can’t know whether his label matches with my label unless I ask him and I just … can’t do that.’ I take another deep breath ‘He still hasn’t said the L word, well, except in the bedroom and that doesn’t really count, does it? As far as I know this is just a summer fling for him and he won’t look back when he heads back to London in the autumn.’
‘Ahh, okay. So that’s it.’ Michelle seems satisfied that we’ve got to the bottom of it.
I know I’m sounding overwhelmingly insecure and vulnerable. I don’t like the sensation but it’s too late, I’m there now … The words are out there.
‘Yes, that’s it. I’m in love and I’m afraid to be the one who says, ‘I love you’ first just in case I’m being delusional.’ I attempt a smile, but it slips. ‘I know it’s pathetic but after Aiden I don’t feel like I can trust my judgement, not totally. I mean maybe he is just in lust with me?’
I deftly scoop Flump up and stop him from leaning too far over the edge of the boat.
‘No way,’ Poppy protests. ‘Absolutely no way. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s easy to solve, just tell him you love him, get it out there.’
Easy? Ha ha.
‘There is something else, it’s sort of related … well, it could be … Sex in the Suburbs is coming to Carcassonne. They’ve rented a château for a summer special.’
I tell them all about the plans for Cal to cook for them, his cookbook deal and his suggestion that I use this opportunity to confront Aiden and Sally on my terms.
‘You’re not going to, are you?’ Poppy’s eyes widen anxiously, just as I predicted. I really shouldn’t have said anything.
I feel a twinge of guilt. This is supposed to be a special fun day out for Poppy.
‘It’ll be fine, honestly, don’t worry,’ I reassure her. ‘I am not going to go off the rails, not when we’ve got the final prep to do for your wedding day. I’m not going to let you down.’
‘That isn’t what I’m worried about.’ Poppy stares down at her glass.
‘So, are you worried about Cal’s motives?’ Michelle asks, fixing a shrewd gaze on me.
I knew that Michelle would get that aspect of it in a way that Poppy can’t because she always sees the best in people. Michelle reads the gossip magazines and the celebrity news online. She would be aware of the benefits of extra publicity for Cal, especially with the whole Aiden–Sally saga potentially reigniting. I know Cal well enough to know that this isn’t necessarily the kind of publicity he would choose but … well, publicity is publicity and his agent obviously thinks it’s a good idea.
‘I don’t know.’ I shrug helplessly.
‘I’m sure that his motives are only to look out for you, JoJo.’ Poppy frowns. As predicted she always sees the best in people, which is a nice quality but …
‘Do you trust him?’ Michelle asks.
‘I think I do,’ I say. ‘I’m just second-guessing myself.’
‘So, what does your gut instinct, your intuition tell you?’ Michelle asks. ‘Your head says you could be being manipulated and you need to be careful but your heart says …’
I consider for a minute and try to get in touch with my gut instinct, or what she means by my heart. The same gut instinct that had its reservations about Aiden, but I was too dazzled to listen to it. I don’t want to make the mistake of ignoring it again.
I consider for a minute.
‘It says to trust him and to go with it,’ I say, relaxing properly for the first time today.
It’s at that moment I hear a splash and realise that Flump’s lead is no longer in my hand.
Ten exhausting and very scary minutes later Flump and I are both back on the boat, soaking wet, dripping puddles onto the deck.
Thankfully I thought to hand Poppy my phone before I dived in.
I pat at my shorts pocket and suddenly realise. The car key isn’t in it. My car key is in the canal. Oh, fuckity fuck …
I agree to half a glass of Kir Royale in the end as it doesn’t seem very likely I’ll be driving any time soon.
It’s Cal who comes to pick us up because both Leo and Angeline are needed in surgery.
He raises an eyebrow when he sees me.
‘So you’re the reason I’m bringing towels?’ He gets one out of the car and wraps one around me, wrapping me up in his arms at the same time. He kisses my neck and then presses his lips to my ear. ‘You need to be careful when I’m not around to protect you.’
I suppose I should be glad there’s no one around filming this. Michelle is watching though and gives me a discreet thumbs-up signal once his back is turned. He hands me another towel to wrap up Flump.
I know it’s hopeless. The car is going to smell of wet dog and canal for days.
‘I couldn’t find your spare car key. I’m sorry,’ Cal apologises.
‘Really?’ I groan. ‘It looks like I’m going to be up late looking for it tonight then. We’ll have to come back and get the car in the morning.’
Flump and I both sit on towels all the way back to the guesthouse. At least the others seem to be having a good time. I am … disturbed would be the right word, I suppose. How could I be so caught up in thinking about Cal that I stopped paying attention to Flump? I know how quickly he can get into trouble and I feel wretched. To be fair he is extremely quick and also possesses Houdini-like escape skills but even so … It frightens me to be so consumed by a man.
Cal’s sway over me is potent and mesmerising. I don’t want to pull away, I’m not sure that I could. If I did then the firm cord between us would just tug me straight back onto his lap where I would inevitably end up kissing him. He really is the best kisser. How often do you find that – a man who kisses perfectly?
I want to be there and yet I am still afraid … of the depth of my love for him and the awful potential to be catastrophically hurt.
Cal follows me into my bathroom where he helps me undress. I know he is dying to make a joke about the fact he is getting me out of my wet clothes but the energy between us feels too serious for jokes. It’s both intense and intimate.
Flump is outside drying off in the sunshine underneath the watchful eyes of Poppy so I can relax.
Cal strips off too and turns on the
shower, stepping into it with me. I lean back against him with a sigh and he massages my neck and shoulders. Then he puts shower gel onto his hands, soaps them up and runs them down over my collarbone to my breasts. He soaps and fondles them, squeezing my nipples in a way he knows always makes me moan.
I lean back against him with a satisfied sigh, feeling his growing erection pressing against my buttocks. His hands massage my tummy and then travel down between my legs. He nudges my legs apart with his knee and stands between my thighs, bending a little as he slides his hard cock along the length of my slit to my very wet entrance. Then he straightens up and enters me in one hard thrust.
It takes my breath away but in a good way. I press my hands and face up against the tiles, warm water coursing down over my body as Cal fucks every last bit of stress out of me. It’s a delicious quickie.
Cal is delicious, addictive and infinitely moreish.
I am in trouble.
The next day involves a lie-in, which makes a nice change, and then we have a nice afternoon on a chocolate and wine tasting tour in Carcassonne, followed by dinner and cocktails at the Hotel de la Cité. At least things go to plan: no one gets wet and the worst that happens is a slightly twisted ankle for Sarah, a casualty of wearing high heels on cobbled streets. Poppy enjoys the chocolate tasting at artisanal chocolate shops. As she’s not so keen on wine we wanted to find something a bit different for her to do. I actually manage to forget all about my dilemma and Aiden coming to the area, and stop angsting for a bit.
I miss Cal when we get back to the guesthouse though. He’s off with the other stags, hiking and camping, and my bed feels really empty without him. When Poppy suggested driving up into the mountains on early Sunday morning to surprise the boys I readily agree. Partly because I always love walking in the Pyrenees but mostly because I miss Cal. It’s ridiculous. He’s only been out of cell reception for about twenty-four hours but I’m already getting withdrawal symptoms.
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