by Suzanne Snow
She dragged her mouth from his until her lips were against his ear. ‘Do you realise this is the first time we’ve been alone in a bedroom?’ It was impossible not be aware of the effect she was having on him, and he lowered his mouth to nibble her neck.
‘You know I do.’ One hand cupped her face and he raised his head to gaze at her, his blue eyes darkened with something she understood, and his smile was wry. ‘But I don’t think we can stay in here indefinitely. Come on, let’s go and see what we can do.’ He tipped her gently from his lap and they left the room.
Downstairs organised chaos reigned, and even more people had arrived and were helping to prepare mountains of food and set a table underneath a makeshift gazebo in the garden, which was already straining at its ropes. Alex, the missing son, had turned up with two friends and his girlfriend in tow and they were all busy talking noisily while peeling seafood for the huge paella he had promised to cook. Jon threw Annie an apologetic glance over his shoulder as he disappeared into the depths of the garage with Owen and a set of tools. Carrie poured Annie a drink and Annie volunteered to scrub the mussels lurking in the sink.
‘Do you mind?’ Carrie picked up a grey cat from the kitchen worktop and hurled it gently into the garden. ‘Out, Smokey, I’ve told you before. Sorry, I know it’s a rotten job but thank you.’
Annie set to work, pausing every couple of minutes as Carrie introduced her to more people and she tried to remember their names. But it was impossible: it seemed as though the whole street was trying to cram into the narrow townhouse, and Annie gave up as she finally scraped the last of the mussels clean and tipped them into a pan. It was almost an hour before she saw Jon again and by then she was past caring, half giddy on champagne and laughter. Carrie was welcoming and funny as she tried to keep the party going while applying make-up in the kitchen. Annie was scrawling place cards, which she was certain would never be needed, as people wandered around catching up with long lost friends, and her writing became worse with every card. Eventually she gave up and chucked them into a pile of post on a coffee table in the sitting room and wandered back into the kitchen. Her heart leapt crazily when she saw Jon squeezing through the crowd towards her.
‘Sorry I was so long. Are you all right?’
‘Absolutely fine. I’ve been having a lovely time. Did you fix the lights?’
Jon grinned. ‘I think so. I’m going to change, see you soon.’ He bent down, and she felt his lips against her cheek and then he was gone.
Carrie appeared, still clutching her lipstick and when she spotted Jon, she dashed from the room after him. ‘Jon, wait! There’s something I wanted to ask you. It’ll only take a minute.’
Annie realised she was still wearing her jeans and lacy top and carted the pan of mussels across to Alex, who was already wilting over a huge drum as he stirred the ingredients. He rolled his eyes glumly as he thanked her, reaching for a drink with his free hand. Still people were arriving, and Carrie was looking increasingly aghast as she wondered frantically where she was going to put them all. Annie made her way back into the house and headed upstairs to the bedroom and opened the door, still smiling.
She dragged her case onto the bed and opened it, wishing she’d bothered to unpack earlier as she lifted her dress out and examined it before she hung it up. She took out a negligee that she’d decided to bring at the last minute and the pale gold chiffon rustled as she shook it gently. The door to the bathroom suddenly opened and Jon appeared, rubbing his hands with a towel. Surprise made her stop dead and her lips parted as her eyes absorbed every detail. Bare-chested, the breadth of his shoulders perfectly emphasised the implied strength of his body and the muscles she saw outlined. Dark chest hairs tapered from his chest down to his flat stomach and she closed her mouth hurriedly, realising she was practically gaping.
‘Sorry,’ she stuttered, smiling distractedly and quickly stuffing the negligee back into the case, wondering if he’d noticed it. ‘I didn’t know you were still in here.’
He reached for a shirt and started buttoning it up, and instantly she remembered kissing him on the bed earlier. She knew he was thinking of it too as he gazed at her, slowly fastening each mother-of-pearl button with long fingers. The classic, ivory Oxford shirt looked perfect with charcoal chinos and Annie couldn’t control a tremble in her fingers as she fiddled with a shoebox.
‘I’m done.’ He dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head as he crossed the room to the door. ‘I’ll wait while you change. Sexy nightdress.’
He disappeared and she quickly re-did her make-up, brushing the sides of her hair back and catching them with clips, using a curling iron to create a high wave and pinning it back from her face. She changed hurriedly into ivory satin underwear and slipped a cream and gold dress on. The strapless corset clung to her figure, the skirt falling just above her knees and flaring out beyond her waist. She tied the narrow black belt and stepped into high-heeled pale gold sandals. A quick squirt of her Burberry perfume and she was ready. She opened the bedroom door and Jon was waiting, spinning around to gaze at her for a long moment.
‘You look amazing.’ His hands slid onto her waist, drawing her against him. ‘Why don’t we forget the party and just disappear?’
Stunned, she looked up at him. ‘Are you serious? We can’t!’
‘Sort of. You don’t know what I was thinking while you were in there getting changed.’ He sighed, giving her a rueful grin. ‘I know, I know, we have to go.’ She took his hand and they returned downstairs, back to the din of the party already in full swing.
Chapter Nineteen
A DJ had managed to cram himself into a corner of the gazebo and was already belting out Pharrell Williams when Annie and Jon edged into the garden. Steam was rising from the paella, and Annie felt her stomach rumble hungrily as she smelled the food. A few children, already set loose amongst the guests by relieved parents, were sliding on their knees across the miniscule dance floor as a couple in their seventies enthusiastically brushed up their dance moves, despite seemingly arthritic joints.
‘I had no idea we knew so many people,’ Carrie shrieked as she passed by, clutching a rose bush, obviously a present, and using it as a shield to drive her way through the crowd. She was barefoot, still wearing the same crumpled linen trousers and top. ‘I’m sure I haven’t seen half of them before.’
Annie heard Jon laugh, but all she was aware of was her hand tightly inside his and being with him. The noise, the people, the food, all blended into their surroundings and she was conscious of only him. A bubble of happiness exploded inside her and she reached up to murmur into his ear, her high heels making it easier. ‘Before this night is over, I want to dance with you.’ She knew her comment had little to do with dancing, and everything to do with being in his arms and feeling his body against hers.
He grinned, squeezing her hand, gazing at one another. ‘Sure. But I should warn you, I have about one and a half left feet. I’m no Patrick Swayze.’
‘I don’t care. I’d rather have you.’
The food was ready, and they drifted into the queue. Jon introduced her to a couple of people he knew vaguely, and she said hello politely, her hand still tucked inside his. When their plates were full, they sat down to eat on a low garden wall. Annie felt the spiky brush of plants against her back and as soon as Jon had dumped his half empty plate on the patio, he draped an arm across her bare shoulders. She abandoned her meal as she felt the warmth of his fingers, her appetite for food obliterated by his touch as she leant into him. They laughed as the lights around the gazebo suddenly went out and then lurched back into life a few seconds later, flickering tentatively. Carrie and Owen appeared on the dance floor, and the DJ turned the music down as Owen slipped his arm around Carrie’s shoulders, intending to pay tribute to his wife on their anniversary. Owen fiddled with the microphone and the DJ reached across to help him.
‘Ah, that’s better. Anyway, we just want to thank you all for coming this evening, especially if you’ve travelled some distance
. And huge thanks to all who’ve helped put the party together and provided food. God bless you and yours and enjoy the rest of the party. Don’t wander off because you’re in for a treat. A few people have been persuaded to reprise Stars in Their Eyes just for this evening and you really don’t want to miss it.’
He waved as he handed the microphone back to the DJ, the music roaring back into life, and Annie’s eyes filled with tears. So many moments crammed into a marriage over the years and it reminded her of everything that had changed for her so unexpectedly. Owen and Carrie disappeared into the house and she heard Jon laugh. She looked across to the DJ, stifling a laugh as a guest tottered towards the dance floor draped in a dark wig and sunglasses.
‘Right then,’ the DJ roared as he turned down the music again. ‘Let’s hear it for Brian, who tonight, ladies and gentlemen, will be Roy Orbison!’
Guests clapped as the guest took to the makeshift stage and grabbed the microphone. She and Jon tried not to laugh as he warbled his way through Pretty Woman, and the best Annie could say for him was that he wasn’t too bad. A teenage cousin came next and floored them all with a wonderful rendition of Will Young’s All Time Love and the guests fell silent as he finished, then clapped and cheered him until, embarrassed, he shot back into the house with a group of friends. Carrie and Owen reappeared, dressed in flares and sandals, reducing everyone to laughter as they dragged a couple of garden chairs onto the dance floor and launched into the Carpenters. They were surprisingly brilliant, with good voices and plenty of crowd appeal as they danced along.
‘I won’t be long,’ Jon murmured casually to Annie as Carrie and Owen, enthused by their guests’ response, agreed to an encore of Top of the World. ‘Don’t go away.’
She nodded, realising just how much she was enjoying herself even without Jon beside her, and after a few minutes she wondered where he had gone. She saw him then, and stared in astonishment as he strolled past her onto the tiny stage. He’d put on a blazer and undone a couple more buttons on his shirt but that was it, and her heart began to race as he smilingly took the microphone. He seemed completely relaxed, and Annie was struck all over again by his height and presence, hardly daring to move as he began to sing.
She’d never heard him perform like this before and knew at once his rich baritone voice was perfect for Elvis Presley’s Can’t Help Falling in Love. He was singing it to her, she was sure of it. He glanced at her frequently, until some of the guests were turning to look too, and she squirmed under their scrutiny. It was an introduction, not an impersonation, and as he charmed his way through the song, she knew he was leaving people in no doubt it was intended for her. He blew her a kiss when he finished and handed the mike back to loud cheers. She was scarlet and hot, her heart racing as she waited for him to re-join her, completely captivated by his sexy and intimate performance.
A woman stepped in front of Jon while he was on his way back to Annie. She was tall, with stylishly cropped dark hair, reaching out a hand to Jon and halting him. He grinned, brushing his lips against her cheek as they hugged. Annie watched them, stepping back into the shadows, not wanting Jon to notice her staring. They chatted together, an easy and familiar intimacy in their body language and Annie sidled away, glad of the din of someone on the stage belting out Neil Diamond’s Sweet Caroline and trying to subdue a horrible feeling of jealousy rising inside her. Somebody she had met earlier claimed her attention in the orangery as she found another drink, and she was happy to listen, trying not to look for Jon over every shoulder. He reappeared a few minutes later as Annie was still listening to her new companion, and a tremor stole through her body as he bent his head to kiss her cheek.
‘Sorry I was so long,’ he told her casually as he took her hand. ‘Bumped into an old friend.’ He nodded at the woman standing near Annie, and as she opened her mouth to speak again, Jon tugged Annie away. ‘Sorry,’ he called over his shoulder. ‘Annie promised to dance with me. I’ve been practising especially.’
‘You haven’t!’ Annie watched as Jon shrugged out of his blazer and draped it over a nearby chair.
‘No, I haven’t, sorry. But it was the first thing that came into my mind so I could be alone with you again. What did you think of the song?’
She heard the casual note in his voice and could only be honest, looking up at him with eyes lost in something she couldn’t yet voice. ‘I loved it. I thought you were wonderful.’
She knew he was pleased with her compliment, and he squeezed her hand as they stepped onto the tiny dance floor, which suddenly felt much smaller with Jon on it. He drew her into his arms, slipping one hand onto the small of her back and resting the other on her neck, wrapping her long hair around his fingers. Her arms slid up his chest to his shoulders and she closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of his cologne. The music had slowed, and they danced unhurriedly, Annie utterly lost in the delight of being so close to him, trembling when he brushed his lips briefly against her hair.
She tried not to dream that the song could have been written for them, but it was so easy to pretend it might have been as they danced on. She heard the words again and again, as she imagined a lifetime of smiles and the seasons changing as they passed the years together. Every note seemed to close the distance between them until their bodies were touching, and his arms tightened to draw her closer still. The moment was abruptly lost as he stood on her foot and she yelped, feeling the weight of his size twelves on her toes.
‘Oww!’ They dissolved into laughter as they separated, and he helped her onto a nearby chair.
‘I told you I was no good.’ Jon bent down, still smiling, and gently lifted her foot. ‘I’m so sorry. Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine.’ She closed her eyes as he took off her shoe and began to massage her foot gently. But then his hand rose higher to caress her calf as his eyes found hers and he smiled. Carrie rushed across to check on Annie, still wearing her flares, and insisted on dragging her into the house to find some frozen peas.
‘It’ll swell up if you don’t,’ she said firmly, taking Annie’s arm and leading her away. She looked back at Jon and tried to glare. ‘I saw what happened! You and those great big feet, Jon! Come on, Annie.’
Annie threw Jon a helpless glance and he laughed again as he shrugged his shoulders. ‘I’ll wait for you outside,’ he called, sinking into her chair. Once in the kitchen Carrie fussed around, half pushing Annie onto a little sofa so she could lift her foot up properly and rummaged in the freezer for a bag of peas. A moment later, somebody dashed inside to claim Carrie for another song and Annie was marooned with her toes wrapped in a tea towel filled with a bag of organic peas. After a few minutes, she was thinking she’d probably left the ice on for long enough when the tall woman Jon had spoken with earlier entered the kitchen. Their eyes met, and she gave Annie a friendly smile as she made her way across the room.
‘What have you done?’ she asked sympathetically, helping herself to a glass of wine from a nearby bottle.
Annie felt tiny stuck in the depths of the sofa, and shuffled awkwardly. ‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ she said uncomfortably, moving the bag of peas around before her toes went completely numb from the cold. ‘Somebody stood on my foot dancing.’
The woman’s eyes rolled in conspiratorial amusement. ‘I saw you dancing with Jon. He was never much good at it. You must be Annie.’
Surprised, Annie realised the woman knew exactly who she was and who was responsible for her unexpected predicament. She didn’t know quite what to say so she settled for a silent nod while she gathered her thoughts. The comment implied a certain intimacy between the woman and Jon, and she remembered the hug earlier, the easy way they’d greeted one another. They both looked across as Owen appeared at the kitchen door, clutching empty plates.
‘Niamh,’ he called delightedly, rushing across to dump the plates in the sink and wrap his arms around her. ‘Carrie told me you were here, but it’s almost impossible to identify anyone in this crush. I’m so pleased you could make
it.’ He paused for a second, a sombre tone replacing the quick pleasure. ‘We were so sorry to hear about you and Kieran. How are you doing?’
Annie felt the colour draining from her face as it dawned on her who this stylish and elegant woman was. Niamh’s Irish accent was faint, but it was there, and Annie was horrified by the realisation as Niamh confirmed she had come alone to the party. Feeling dazed, Annie seemed to be entirely surrounded by Jon’s past, including the woman with whom he had had his most serious relationship. She barely heard Niamh’s reply to Owen and then he was gone, dashing outside to greet somebody else, and they were alone once more. Annie felt Niamh’s eyes upon her, and she pushed the frozen bag from her foot and stood up, meeting Niamh’s gaze, curious and strangely warm. Annie smiled blandly, questions leaping into her mind as she tried to quell the jealousy prickling on her skin.
‘How did you and Jon meet?’ Niamh asked politely, sipping her red wine, propped casually against the kitchen table.
‘Oh, I moved to Thorndale at the beginning of the summer and we kept bumping into one another around the village.’ Annie heard the truth of her answer, trying to measure it against how much she was coming to feel for him already and thoughts of what their future might or might not be.
‘It’s such a lovely place, isn’t it?’ Niamh’s gaze drifted through the window to the noise and lights outside in the garden. ‘Although I’ve only been a few times. And so tiny, it must be almost impossible to avoid each other in such a small place.’ She looked back at Annie. ‘So you haven’t been together long then?’
Days, Annie wanted to shout out. Just days, you couldn’t even call it weeks. It’s nothing compared to three years in Kenya; you’re way ahead of me. The sudden rush of insecurity, of doubt at herself being there with Jon at all when so much between them was unknown and after everything that had gone before with Iain, had Annie dashing out a fraught reply, more to convince herself than anyone else.