by Nikki Moore
‘They sound great.’
‘They are. I’ve missed them a lot, so I can’t wait to see them tomorrow night.’
‘Ah, so that’s who you’re going out with.’
Was that relief on his face? If so, why? she wondered with a nervous jump in her stomach. ‘Is there a problem?’
‘No, I just thought you might be going on a date or something. Not that it’s any of my business.’
‘I told you, there was someone and now there’s not. But anyway, it would be too soon.’ The fact she’d only split with her fiancé just over six weeks ago should be a factor, but nope, she grasped as she stared down into her empty wine glass, that wasn’t it. The truth was that the idea of spending time with another guy seemed plain weird, especially after this morning’s kiss. Shit, was she in a mess. Get back on track, fast. ‘Back to you,’ she said. ‘You were talking about boarding school? What happened afterwards?’
He seemed taken aback by the change of topic, but nodded. ‘I got some credible exam results but rather than study for A-levels with a view to going to Oxford or Cambridge as my parents expected, I came straight out of school. I took a music technology course, followed by a variety of music business, engineering and performance courses.’ He smirked. ‘My parents were mortified. It was far too creative and artsy for them.’
‘Well it should be about what makes your kids happy, not what you expect for them. Children have to make their own way in life,’ she raised her wineless glass in an imaginary toast, and realised she might be a bit tipsy. ‘When I have children I’ll keep them with me, rather than shipping them off to boarding school. I’m not denying that a better level of education or excelling at sports might be attractive, and it might be the done thing in certain social circles, but it just seems a bit cold. No offence to your parents. But you feel the same way, right?’ she paused and he nodded. ‘I’m so glad you’re letting the kids go to a mainstream school, Matt. Aimee seems happy enough and at least Jasper will be able to see her on the playground if he’s feeling a bit lost. It must have been the same for you and Stephen?’
‘Not really,’ he seemed sad. ‘There are seven years between us, so we were in different dorms in school.’ Something dark flitted across his face. ‘We never really hung out. We got to know each other better when we got older. After Helen died he half moved in here. He stays in one of the spare rooms when he feels like it. There’s a flat in Chelsea but he’s never there much. He’s one of those people who doesn’t like being alone.’
‘Right.’ Zoe tilted her head to one side. In that way Melody and Stephen were well-matched. Mel had always had a big circle of friends at school, and if she wasn’t with them would sit in Zoe’s room chatting away for hours, at times bugging the hell out of her older sister, who wanted to be left alone to read. Mel had never been at peace with her own company, so it must have been hard for her living here with Matt and the kids with Ruth a train journey away and only Jemima across town. Zoe knew she’d lost touch with a lot of her old school friends. ‘Sorry, you were saying about doing all those music qualifications. What happened next?’
‘Well, when I left college I managed to get a job as a glorified tea boy at a tiny music production company and also started putting ads out in local papers, looking for soloists or bands who might be interested in collaborating, or having some free production time from me. I worked my arse off trying to get up the ladder, and went without sleep for about two years while I went to obscure backstreet bars and smoke-filled gigs finding new talent to nurture and record music with, before setting up my own company on the side. There are different types of music producer, but I don’t just do the creative bit producing the music and coaching the musicians and artists, I also have a wider role managing the budget, schedules, contracts and negotiations. Of course when my boss found out I’d created what one day might be a rival company they fired me, but by then I’d started to make a name for myself. Professionally speaking, the rest is history. I’ve worked with some amazing artists and have had some fairly big hits, probably more down to good luck and somehow being ahead of the market than anything else. I have put in a lot of blood, sweat and tears though. Especially tears,’ he kidded.
She knew he was being modest by underplaying the platinum albums and worldwide successes as well some of his artists singing at the White House, but didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by saying so. ‘What about Helen? Where does she come in?’
‘Helen.’ He rolled the word around in his mouth like it had a bad taste. Looking away, he drank the rest of his pint in one smooth motion and slammed the glass down on the table between them.
She jumped at the sound.
‘Sorry.’
‘That’s all right.’
‘I’ll get us a top up,’ he grabbed their empties and climbed off the lounger, ‘back in a minute.’
Watching him push through the doors into the lounge, she rubbed her forehead. The face he’d pulled at the mention of his late wife’s name hadn’t been one of grief. Her instincts told her it had been more like disappointment, guilt or anger. God, this was getting complicated.
He was back within thirty seconds with two fresh wine glasses and the Pinot Noir in a metal cooler. ‘I thought we might as well finish it off. It’s been a stressful week, and it’s a nice evening.’
‘Thanks.’ It was probably a dangerous idea but she took the full glass he handed to her, and settled back against the cushion. ‘If you don’t want to talk about Helen, I’ll understand, Matt.’ She was such a liar, she was dying to know what the situation was.
‘No, it’s okay. You’ve made me realise over the past week that the kids are going to ask questions and want to know more, and I’m going to have to be ready for that. Though obviously what I tell them might be different to what I tell you.’
‘Sure.’
‘Okay, here goes.’ He swallowed some wine, expression pensive. ‘I met Helen in a bar when I was twenty-one. She was two years younger; beautiful, smart and outgoing. We wanted the same things, and she was ambitious for us as a couple, pushing me forward, initially handling my marketing and publicity. I’d had the company for two years at that point and was making pretty good money. Exciting things were happening. She loved that I had my own company and brand, and after four months we moved in together. I bought us a house near Primrose Hill and we got married.’ He smiled briefly. ‘We were happy. She loved shopping and the flash side of being married to a successful music producer; the parties, dressing up, having fun.’ Two more gulps of wine went down. ‘But then she got pregnant with Aimee and it’s like a spark in her died. I feel awful and disloyal saying this, but she just didn’t seem happy to be pregnant. After Aimee was born she was more interested in spending money and getting her figure back at the gym than bonding with our daughter.’
‘She was quite young for a first child, and possibly overwhelmed. Could she have had post-natal depression?’
‘It’s possible,’ he admitted, ‘but she didn’t seem low or anxious. It was more like she wasn’t that bothered. Don’t get me wrong, she was a good mum in some ways. I never worried about Aimee’s safety with her, I just felt that she wasn’t high up enough on Helen’s priority list. After that, Helen lost interest in the business, and started resenting the amount of hours I had to put in at work. When she found out we were having Jasper she seemed uncertain at first but came round to the idea. The first year and a half after he was born were fine. We did things as a family, and I started to think things were getting better.’
‘But?’
‘She died soon afterwards,’ he said, expression set. ‘That’s it.’
There was plainly more to it given his choice of wording, but he’d already opened up a lot and his face was set in hard lines. No wonder he felt torn about his wife’s death if things had been difficult between them in the months leading up to it. She was mulling over whether to prod him about it a bit more when he leaned across the table and touched her arm, distracting her. S
hivering at the tingle of heat his fingers produced, she squeezed her thighs together. She would not, absolutely not give into the urge to hurl herself into his lap, to sit across those rock hard thighs and offer her mouth to him.
‘What about you?’ he asked. ‘I know about your education and career path from the interview, you’ve told me about your parents and an aunt that made you feel unloved, but what about significant relationships? Have you ever been married?’
‘Nearly,’ she confessed, repositioning her arm so his hand dropped away from her skin. She couldn’t think properly when he touched her. Holding her thumb and forefinger up a couple of millimetres apart, she squeezed them together so they almost touched. ‘This close.’
‘So what happened?’ Swivelling around, he sat up on the side of the lounger so the table wasn’t between them, leaning forward.
‘He cheated. I found out two weeks before the wedding. I found them.’ It slipped out and hung in the air between them like a mist.
‘What? You’re kidding,’ he sounded shocked.
She puffed a raw breath out, turning her attention to the apple tree. Thinking of the picture Greg had made, twined naked around Shelly like it was the most natural thing in the world, eyes filling with panic when Zoe had burst into the room. What the hell was she thinking, telling Matt about it? It was humiliating, and stung. The wine was definitely getting to her. ‘Unfortunately not,’ she muttered, wishing the heavens would open and provide a distraction, but of course this was England; it only rained when you didn’t want it to.
To her shock, Matt crawled over to sit on her lounger, his hip against her thigh, placing a finger under her chin so he could look into her face. ‘Hey, are you okay?’ His eyes were sympathetic, his breath warm on her cheek.
‘Sure,’ she squeaked. ‘It’s just that…everybody knew but me. And it was with one of the other nannies. Also, I still don’t really know why, what it was about me that wasn’t enough.’ She was horrified when with an odd little pang in her chest tears welled up in her eyes. Oh, jeez. Not now, and not in front of him, not after almost two months of being unable to cry. It must be the wine, sun and tiredness.
‘Come here.’ Scooping her close, he pressed her face into his neck, a searing hand rubbing her back in gentle circles. ‘It’s not about you, you’re great. It was about him. There was something in him that meant he thought it was okay. But it’s not. It’s never okay to cheat,’ he said fiercely, and she almost lifted her head to ask him if he’d had personal experience, but he carried on talking. ‘As far as I’m concerned, he’s a complete bloody idiot. Just let it out if you need to, Zoe. You’re safe here. You can trust me.’
Everything in her rebelled at the idea of seeking comfort in his arms, for a multitude of reasons—Melody, the kids, he was her boss, it was embarrassing—but he was right, she did feel safe. Tears leaked out unbidden and he held her as she cried. They weren’t the racking great sobs she’d expected, they were quieter tears that were more about sadness and regret and release. She snuggled into him, her hands grasping his waist. He moved a hand up to stroke her hair and the two of them stayed there for several minutes while she let the hurt, shame and disappointment go.
It was astonishing how much better she felt for it afterwards and she tightened her grip on Matt, feeling soft and gooey with gratitude towards him for being there, for his understanding. But slowly the gratitude slipped away and was replaced by something much more intense. She became aware of the burning heat of his body. The imprint of his long soothing fingers in her hair and on her back. His uneven breathing against her ear lobe. The tension in his thighs. The smell of his sexy aftershave, spicy and fresh, emanating from his neck.
Pushing her boobs against his chest, she could feel his heart thudding through his thin t-shirt.
He inhaled deeply. ‘Zoe,’ he said in a warning tone.
‘Yes?’ Lifting her head, she met his scorching gaze.
Moving his other hand up to her head, he used both thumbs to wipe the tracks of her tears from her cheeks. ‘This isn’t a good idea. This morning…we shouldn’t have kissed.’
‘I know,’ she agreed, dropping her eyes to watch his mouth as he spoke.
‘It’s too complicated. You work for me. You’re my kids’ nanny, and they need you. I don’t want to blow it for them.’ He didn’t mention Helen, but he didn’t need to. It was clear that there were some feelings there he hadn’t resolved.
Complicated? she thought. You have no idea.
‘I understand,’ she mumbled, in a corner of her mind knowing she should ease away, let go of him and get to bed. Run away from temptation. But that corner was wrapped in a fog of wine and lust and she couldn’t. She didn’t want to. Right this moment she wanted to be held by him, wrapped up in him.
Staring into his eyes, she trailed her hands from his waist all the way down his thighs, and then up again, feeling the taut strength under her fingers. He hissed out a breath and yanked her face to his, kissing her frantically, passionately, lips firm, their tongues tangling. He kissed her like he’d been holding back for an eternity, like he was desperate to have her and would fall apart if he didn’t. A thrill of excitement buzzed along her veins. It thrummed through her blood and pumped through her heart, making it thud in her chest.
Suddenly his hands dropped to her hips and he grabbed her bum, swivelling on the lounger and scooping her forward so she was straddling him. She gasped, clutching handfuls of his dark hair and holding on as the kiss continued, his even teeth nibbling at her sensitive bottom lip, his fingers digging into her bum. She rocked her hips against him, feeling like she couldn’t get close enough, that if they didn’t get naked she’d explode. He groaned and dipped his mouth to her neck, blazing a trail of kisses down it, his teeth moving aside the strap of her top and bra together to bare her shoulder. Hoisting her up, he nuzzled his face down between her round, heaving breasts and turned his head to one side. Before she could work out what he was doing, her nipple was in his wet mouth and he was sucking on it in a rhythmic motion.
‘Oh my god, Matt,’ she choked. Thigh muscles clenching, pelvis scorching with heat, she bucked her hips against him, feeling his straining hardness rubbing against her clit.
Lifting his head slightly, his breath whispered over her naked skin, making her shiver. ‘Do you like that?’ he mumbled. ‘I’ve been dreaming about doing this ever since I wrenched that stupid jacket off you in my office.’
‘Yes! Don’t stop. Harder,’ she moaned, rocking her hips again as he went back to sucking her nipple. His erection pulsed against her in response, making judders of pleasure race through her. She was on fire, feverish, sweat breaking out over her skin. She twisted against him, pushing her hands down inside his t-shirt, raking her nails over his smooth, muscular shoulders then up to his hair, holding his mouth demandingly against her.
She couldn’t believe how breathless and sizzling it was between them. It had never been like this before, she’d never ignited for any other man the way she did for Matt. When he switched his attention to her other nipple, making her moan again, she lowered herself slightly and ran questing fingers down over his toned stomach. When her hand landed on the zip of his jeans, and the bulge jutting up beneath it, he jerked and pulled away.
‘Jesus, Zoe.’ Grasping her hand, he brought it up and held it against his chest, easing back so there was some space between them. ‘We have to stop.’ He looked up at her, regret shadowing his eyes.
‘Yes,’ she whispered.
The evening air hit her bared breast, making the nipple stiffen even more, and with a groan he gently slid her bra and top back into place, before untangling her legs from his hips so they could sit side by side on the lounger.
‘Wow,’ he said, shifting uncomfortably and picking up her hand. ‘That was…wow.’
‘Yeah,’ she said, dazed, turned on, confused and a little embarrassed. Not to mention guilty as hell. How was this helping her sister, or her peace of mind? She had a tough decision t
o make and having sex with Matt in his garden was not going to make it any easier. Which was what would’ve happened if he hadn’t pulled away. She closed her eyes, a blush creeping up her face.
‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured, tracing his thumb over her palm, which made her squirm. ‘I really like you, you know I do, but…’
‘It’s okay.’ Opening her eyes, she edged along the cushion and slid her hand from his. ‘It was my fault,’ she met his stare directly, ‘you said not to, but I kissed you anyway. I get what you’re saying, and agree. It is too complicated.’ Shaking her head, thinking about the two kids upstairs she was totally besotted with. ‘It was inappropriate and unprofessional. It won’t happen again.’
‘Hey,’ turning so that his knee touched her thigh, causing tingles to run along her skin again, ‘don’t be like that. It was both of us, and we’re only human. I’m just as bad. I’m your boss! You could sue me for sexual harassment.’
‘Oh, hardly,’ she blurted, ‘more like the other way around.’
He chuckled, ‘I think we were both as bad as each other, so shall we call it even?’
‘I guess.’ God, she was so sexually frustrated she was going to have to take the longest cold shower in the history of the world. A bucket or two of ice might be required as well.
‘So, what are we going to do?’ he asked, studying her face.
‘I don’t know.’ She chewed her bottom lip, noticing the way his eyes tracked the movement. ‘Be adults, and control ourselves?’
He hesitated. ‘Okay, deal.’ Standing up, he shoved his hands in his pockets and backed away. ‘I, uh, should clear up.’
‘Do you want some help?’
‘No,’ he rushed, ‘I’ll do it.’ Clearing his throat, he shuffled sideways on the decking. As he came into her eye line, she realised why he seemed so uncomfortable.