Meet Me at Wisteria Cottage

by Teresa F. Morgan

  He edged forward, and gently combed his fingers through her hair. He stroked her cheek, rounding her face, then finally his knuckles brushed under her chin, raising her head, her mouth to his.

  The kiss deepened, her fingers fumbling with his shirt buttons, his hands lowering the zipper at the back of her dress. Fluidly, never breaking contact, they stood in the hallway, like love-struck teenagers, making out, kissing, caressing each other.

  ‘Harry … I think,’ Maddy said between passionate kisses and snatched breaths, ‘we should … take this upstairs.’

  ‘Hmm … yes, good idea,’ Harry said, reluctant to remove his hands from her body. He ached for her, his trousers feeling tight around his groin. He hooked her, fireman’s carry style, over his shoulder.

  ‘Harry!’ This time she squealed with delight and chuckled without a fight.

  As he placed her on the bed, rosy-cheeked and hair tousled, but her expression mock-reproachful, he said, ‘I thought this would be the quickest way to get you into bed.’

  She sat up, leaning on her elbows. ‘Did you now? There’s me thinking you like it kinky.’

  ‘I’ll be anything you like.’

  Eyeing him mischievously, she sat up fully, reaching around his bum and pulling him towards her. She undid the buckle of his belt, his flies, then pushed at his trousers, so they fell to his ankles. Slowly, she teased down his boxers, and he closed his eyes, concentrating on the warmth of her mouth, taking him into her. He groaned at the intense feeling as her lips and tongue ran along his hardness. Back and forth rhythmically, hardening him further than he thought possible.

  ‘Stop.’ Harry withdrew from her mouth. ‘This is about you … not me.’ And if she carried on like that he’d be good for no one.

  Harry had to taste her. He craved her – had done all night. He removed the rest of his clothes and kicked them aside, then with urgency, slid Maddy’s dress down, over her hips and free from her feet, revealing pastel pink underwear, the colour of spring blossom.

  Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

  He wanted to kiss every inch of her.

  Kneeling over her, he kissed her mouth, neck, collarbone, fumbling behind her back to unclasp her bra. He was definitely out of practice when it came to undoing bras.

  Maddy chuckled. ‘Shall I help you?’

  ‘No, I’ve got it.’ Finally, the bra released. Relieved, Harry smoothed the straps down her arms gently and pulled the garment free. He hadn’t wanted to admit how long it had been since he’d done this kind of thing. Maddy might run a mile, thinking he was crap. He kissed her lips, plump and naturally red; they seemed to be compatible there. He could kiss her for eternity. Following his hands, he moved his mouth to her breast, then the other breast, toying with her nipples with his tongue. It was all coming back to him, just like how to swim – you never forget. She pulled her stomach in and arched her back, shifting in the bed, as he ran his tongue along her inner thigh.

  She lifted her hips to aid the removal of her knickers and he threw them in the same direction as the bra, not caring where they landed. His own heart pounded with excitement – or was it nerves? – as he softly kissed and tasted her most intimate parts. A small voice inside his head nagged that maybe he shouldn’t be doing this with Maddy … of all women … But he’d missed this intimacy, the foreplay, the thrill of pleasuring his woman. Right now, Maddy was his as her body gradually relaxed under his gentle caress. As his tongue licked, his finger, deep inside her stroked her soft spot. She gave her approval; her fingers combing through his hair as she whispered her enjoyment and gave little whimpers of pleasure.

  ‘Harry,’ her hand brushed his arm resting on her stomach, ‘however fantastic that feels, I really want you inside me.’ He looked up to meet her flushed gaze.

  He wanted her too.

  Condoms. ‘Hang on!’

  Leaning over Maddy on all fours, he rummaged for his wallet which was still in his trousers. He’d put condoms in there as a precaution, taking them from the stash in his bedside cabinet he’d never thought he’d use again. He tore open a foil packet and rolled the thing on. They were such passion killers, but it needed to be done.

  His mouth found Maddy’s as he entered her, and their bodies connected at last. Harry held onto her for as long as he could. For the first time in over two years, he felt truly alive again.

  ***

  Maddy awoke early to very pleasant memories of … she wanted to think lovemaking, but quite clearly last night had just been sex. Hot, incredible, sex. The first time hadn’t quite rocked her world, but she’d put it down to the pair of them being a little nervous. The second and third times … Well, Harry’d had her in all sorts of positions, eager to find out what suited her best, which position gave her the most pleasure. She’d never known someone so considerate in the bedroom. Harry’s strength, power, slowing it down, speeding it up, firm then gentle … the memory of these sensations alone sent flutters to her stomach. She couldn’t possibly still be horny?

  Fearing to move, she glanced at Harry, still sleeping; his arm draped over her. His chest rose and fell with his breathing and she could hear the air escaping. Surprisingly, she’d slept well last night, too – thanks to the alcohol, albeit not too much (she still had her memory) and the hot sex, and the fact the bed wasn’t strange to her. Usually, when sleeping with someone new, she’d lie awake half the night.

  But now the alcohol had worn off, would they both go back to being just neighbours or even friends? What had happened? The evening certainly hadn’t ended how Maddy had planned.

  Oh come on, who are you kidding? You’d worn your best dress, and matching underwear – just in case – and made sure you looked smoking hot.

  Maddy’s real fear was whether this would change the dynamic between them. Would it make things awkward? At least she could stay at Wisteria Cottage … And what if this didn’t work out? Probably jumping far too ahead now, Maddy – you had sex, he didn’t ask for your hand in marriage. But even once she moved back into her own house, the fact remained that they lived opposite one another. Oh dear Lord, maybe this hadn’t been wise.

  They were both adults. And sex wasn’t a dirty word. It was healthy for two consenting adults. Commitment needn’t be necessary. Maybe they could carry on as if it never happened, if needs be?

  An alarm shattered the quiet in the room, jerking Harry awake and startling Maddy simultaneously.

  ‘Shit, what time is it?’ Harry glanced at his phone, silencing it. He rubbed his face and groaned, then focussed on Maddy lying naked beside him. He gave an approving smile, his black hair all ruffled. Gazing into his hard-to-resist blue eyes, Maddy realised she didn’t want this to be just sex with Harry.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said kissing Maddy firmly on the lips, her own eyes widening at its suddenness. ‘But I’ve got to go early this morning. I’m meeting someone to quote for a landscaping job and need to collect my pickup from Rock first.’

  ‘It’s okay.’ It wasn’t: she was hoping to talk about last night, but the morning after was not the day to act like a demanding psycho bitch from hell. That was the number one rule in being the perfect girlfriend.

  Girlfriend?

  ‘Can I use your bathroom?’ he asked, breaking her reverie.

  ‘Of course. There’s plenty of towels in there.’

  Harry kissed her again and got out of bed, and Maddy bit her lip watching his tight bum as he walked naked out of the bedroom. She remembered her hands clasping hold of those firm pieces of flesh last night. Heaven help her, he was gorgeous. A life sculpture of perfection.

  Maddy still hadn’t moved when Harry re-entered the bedroom towelling himself dry. Last night’s activities hadn’t left him shy either. Before last night, Harry would have kept the towel firmly around his waist. Now he wasn’t hiding anything. Unfortunately for Maddy – not that she was staring – Harry soon had himself covered up, donning his clothes from last night.

  ‘Shall I give you a lift to your pickup? How were you go
ing to get there?’

  ‘If you’ve got time that would be great. But Maddy, didn’t you say something last night about opening the gallery up this morning because Valerie had an appointment?’ Harry said, frowning.

  ‘Oh shit!’ Maddy sat up in bed, pulling the duvet up to her chest. Yes, she had. She’d stood there last night, a tiny bit wobbly on her heels, telling Harry she couldn’t get too drunk, and now he had to remind her she was opening the gallery up. It all came flooding back. ‘What time is it now?’ She looked about for her mobile phone.

  Harry glanced at his watch he’d fastened on his wrist. ‘Coming up for eight o’clock.’

  Her mobile phone confirmed it too: 07:50 am.

  She didn’t have time to lie in bed. It was a Monday, not a Sunday, not that it made a difference running a gallery in the summer. It had to be open seven days a week. She had to be in work. Plus the builders would be arriving any minute. She needed to get dressed. Maddy bolted out of the bedroom, kissing Harry on the cheek, and dashed into the bathroom.

  ‘I’ll see you tonight,’ Harry called through the bathroom door.

  ‘Okay,’ Maddy shouted over the noise of the shower as the water cascaded over her head. Had she avoided the awkwardness there? Had it been awkward or had she now made it worse? Should they have said more to one another?

  Oh, hell, had sleeping with Harry been a mistake?

  Chapter 20

  In all his years, Harry had never been a guy for one night stands or flings. His first relationship had been with Nicole, his college sweetheart, although they’d known each other from school. But they’d been too young, and after five years they’d agreed they were more like friends than lovers. After Nicole, his relationships turned out not to last as long as he’d hoped, a month or two here, or a few weeks there …

  And then he’d met Karin.

  She had been his second serious relationship. He was in love with her. The head over heels kind, wanting to always please her, make her happy – which wasn’t always easy –so when she was no longer in his life, and there was nothing he could do to get her back, it had hurt. Really hurt. Harry had never known agony like it. Something died inside him the day he’d lost Karin.

  His relationship with Karin, albeit difficult at times, had been coming up to three years, with a baby on the way. Would they have been married by now, and adding to their family? After many months of darkness and pain, his doctor had diagnosed post-traumatic stress disorder – PTSD. Something he thought only soldiers suffered from, not fit and healthy firefighters.

  But apparently, it could happen to anyone.

  Okay, he needed to think happier thoughts as he mowed Mrs Gable’s lawn. Maddy. Think about Maddy. Last night had reminded him how much he enjoyed getting intimate with the right woman.

  Was she the right woman?

  Right now, she was.

  He killed the engine of the lawnmower when he’d got to the end of a line and looked back. Mrs Gable liked perfectly straight lines in her lawn as if it was a court at Wimbledon. He checked his phone. No text from Maddy. He knew he should really message her first … but what should he text? Thanks for the fantastic sex last night, can we do it again soon?

  He’d had to focus on meeting a potentially new client for a landscaping job this morning, making notes so he could draw up a competitive quote for them. And from there he’d gone from job to job, garden to garden, and hadn’t got around to messaging Maddy. The longer he left it, the harder it would get. He hadn’t even managed to get back to the cottage, but after his conversations with Roy, he knew he could take his time there and concentrate on some of his more regular work. With the sun hidden behind the clouds, and the wind coming from the west, off the sea, Harry was grateful for a cooler day. It took a firm tug of the cord, even with the engine warm, to re-start the lawnmower, and Harry tried to concentrate on creating the perfectly straight lines in the rest of the lawn and what he should say to Maddy. They didn’t usually text each other too regularly, so maybe she’d think this was normal.

  No, if Karin had taught him one thing, it was that women could over-analyse.

  ***

  Maddy had been unproductive all day, unable to even concentrate on her paintings. When the door opened and a customer walked in, Maddy was the first to greet them and strike up a conversation, anything to stop her thinking about Harry.

  Maddy stared at her phone for the umpteenth time that day. Valerie had shown up later on after her appointment and plied her regularly with tea. Maddy stuffed her phone back into her pocket. Admittedly, down in Tinners Bay, the network could be hit and miss. A bit of cloud and there was no signal at all sometimes.

  ‘He’s probably busy, Maddy,’ Valerie said. ‘Gosh, in my day, you had to wait for a letter to arrive on your doorstep. This modern technology does nothing for your heart.’

  ‘But what if it was just a fling, just sex? I never usually do these things.’ Except for a couple of one-nighters in her university days, it wasn’t something she liked making a habit of. The next morning her heart always betrayed her, heavy inside her chest with an ache of rejection when the guy didn’t ask for her telephone number or another date. Maddy fell too quickly for the wrong guy and would do everything she could to please, accommodate … This could be why she’d ended up with Connor.

  ‘He doesn’t seem the type to me.’ Valerie frowned as she hooked a seascape painting in place on a wall, adjusting it so it hung straight.

  ‘Oh, do one-night stands look a certain way? I didn’t realise,’ Maddy said, scowling. Then she softened her tone, ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t take it out on you. I just wish he’d text me.’

  Valerie chuckled. ‘You young girls today. Harry seems a gentleman, and I’m a pretty good judge of character. Plus, you both live on the same street, I’m sure he wouldn’t want to do something to make things awkward between you. He’s probably just busy.’

  Maddy nodded, dipping her paintbrush into a mix of blue. Valerie was right, and older, so therefore much wiser.

  ‘You know, you could text him,’ Valerie said, raising her eyebrows in that all-knowing fashion. ‘Modern women and all that.’

  ‘No, he needs to text me first. How do I know if he’s interested otherwise? And I don’t want to be a pest. It’s like a texting rule.’ She didn’t want to look needy.

  Valerie shook her head, chuckling again. ‘I’m sure he won’t think you’re a pest. I’m glad I don’t know how to text, as I’d be breaking all the rules.’ This was true. Valerie never sent Maddy texts. It was always phone calls. It was only in the past couple of years Valerie had apparently given in and purchased a mobile phone. Maddy believed Valerie’s eldest son had actually insisted she entered the twenty-first century. Whether she had it switched on was another matter. ‘But then again, in my day, I was a bit of a rule breaker.’

  ***

  Maddy closed up the gallery and walked up to Wisteria Cottage via the public footpath. She found Simon still at the cottage. The tiling had been started in the kitchen, and he looked as if he was checking it. He grinned at Maddy as she entered.

  ‘Hello, beautiful. How was your day? We still haven’t had that drink,’ Simon said. ‘What about tonight?’

  Damn, I thought I’d talked him out of that.

  ‘Uhm … I better give the liver a rest tonight, Simon,’ she said, unable to meet his eye. ‘Had a bit to drink last night.’

  ‘Did you now? Haven’t seen your boyfriend have you?’

  ‘Boyfriend?’ Maddy blushed. Did he mean Harry? His tone had been sarcastic.

  ‘Yeah, your neighbour, the gardener. I haven’t seen him here today.’

  Harry had agreed with Roy that Mondays would be his day to catch up with his regular customers so that he had a regular income coming in. Maybe he hadn’t relayed this message to Simon.

  ‘He said something about not working here on Mondays,’ Maddy said, hesitant about what she should tell Simon.

  ‘Right, well, I wish he’d communicate thi
s stuff to me.’ Simon gathered up his keys from the counter. ‘Still a rain-check on that drink then, huh?’

  ‘Yes. Sorry.’ But she wasn’t. Maddy toyed with her phone in her hand, her mind distracted, thinking of Harry.

  ‘I’ll be off then,’ Simon said, and Maddy mumbled a goodbye. Simon closed the front door behind him and she heard his van start.

  ‘Oh bugger it.’ She had to see Harry. It was no use denying it.

  Maddy caved in and sent him a text message.

  I would like to see you, to talk. Shall I head over to yours? xxx

  Maddy ran up the stairs two at a time. She jumped into the shower to freshen up and put some clean clothes on – ones not blotched with paint. And applied some light make-up – of course! Seriously, she’d never worried about having make-up on for Harry before.

  For nearly twenty minutes Maddy paced the kitchen waiting for a reply on her phone and her apprehension and anxiety rose. What was she to expect when she saw Harry? Would it be awkward between them? How was she to react? Kiss him … or keep her distance? Should she call him or had he not seen her text?

  Maddy filled a glass with cold water from the tap, adding some ice and a slice of lemon. Maybe instead of water, she should have a glass of wine to calm her nerves? No, lay off the wine. Keep your head clear. What should she do? Should she start cooking some dinner and make enough for two and hope he came to the cottage? Or should she make her way to his? She had no idea what time Harry was due back. Usually, if it was good weather, with the evenings being light, he worked on into the evening. It was gone seven now. Should she carry on as if nothing had happened between them? What? How had she got herself into this mess?

  Harry still hadn’t replied to her text either.

  Maddy stared at the contents of her fridge trying to think of something to create for dinner. Although her stomach rumbled for food, she’d lost her appetite, unable to stomach anything.

  She really liked Harry, and thinking back to last night and how amazing he’d made her feel, she’d do it all over again in a flash. He was an incredible kisser … his body firm and strong, yet his touch soft and caressing. Never, ever judge a book by its cover.