‘No, I’m staying put. I first came to Little Leyton to look after my grandfather, but I quickly grew to love the place and realized it was somewhere I could put down some roots. It’s ideal for me as I work from home, but it’s near enough to all the major transport links so I can get into London easily if I need to, or anywhere else I might need to go. It might sound daft but it makes me feel closer to Gramps. Growing up, we moved around a lot with my dad’s job so there was never anywhere that really felt like home. Little Leyton is the closest I’ve come to experiencing that sense of… I don’t know, family… community. Can you understand that?’
I nodded, understanding perfectly. ‘What about your parents? Do they live in the area?’
‘My dad’s no longer with us. He died when I was sixteen and my Mum, well she quickly re-married. She moved to Spain with her new husband, and took my younger sister, Katy, with them. They love it out there. So I hear. I don’t really see much of them these days.’
‘Oh right.’ I detected the hint of sadness in his voice. ‘I’m sorry about your dad.’
Max shrugged and gave a rueful smile. ‘One of those things.’ He took the opportunity to refill my glass of wine from the carafe on the table and I sensed that particular line of conversation was dead. ‘So, how about you and Johnny?’ he asked, his voice lifting. ‘How’s that going?’
‘Me and Johnny? Oh, we’re just friends, that’s all, we have been for years. Nothing more.’
‘Really?’ Max raised a querying eyebrow, looking entirely doubtful.
‘Well, we had a bit of a thing a while back and then when I came home again, we picked up where we left off, but it’s all over now. We’re much better as friends.’
‘Ah right.’ Max gave a knowing nod of his head. ‘I did wonder. I thought you two were together, but then when I saw Johnny out and about…’ His eyes flickered over my face, his lips twisting. ‘Well, that would explain it then.’
Okay, I admit it, I allowed myself a small, self-satisfied smile. Max Golding had clearly given my relationship status some thought. And there could only be one reason for that. I wasn’t just a mad dog lady and barmaid to him. Looking back, I wondered if it was any coincidence that my feelings for Johnny had waned at about the same time that Max had wandered into my life. Sensing my opportunity to find out more about Max’s personal life, I asked him, nonchalantly, ‘So what about you then? Is there anyone special in your life?’
‘What, apart from my gorgeous girls, you mean? Bella and Holly?’
I smiled, remembering his dogs, but I was under no misapprehension that they might be the only beautiful women in his life. Nor was I going to let him off that lightly. I lifted my eyebrows and tilted my head, when he showed no sign of elucidating further. ‘Well?’ I teased him.
He shook his head slowly, and I noticed a flicker of amusement in his eyes. ‘Not really. Well, nothing serious at least.’
Which told me everything and nothing. Clearly, Max didn’t want me probing into his private life, which was fair enough. As much as this might feel like a date, it wasn’t one. I was having trouble remembering that. His private life had absolutely nothing to do with me.
‘I once had a bit of a thing with a French girl,’ he said, unexpectedly. Now his expression had taken on a wistful quality, his chin uplifted to the beamed ceiling of the restaurant, a smile spreading across his lips.
‘Really?’ I said, eager to find out more.
‘Yep.’ He turned his attention back on my face. I still hadn’t got used to the effect his direct gaze had upon me. Every single time. It was unnerving. There it went again, my heart, giving a little fillip. ‘Long time ago now. Not sure why I was reminded of it. I guess it’s being here in France, the sounds, the smells, it brings it all back.’
‘What was her name?’
‘Nadine. I met her when I was working in a vineyard. Her family took me in and we became very close, we were inseparable for the summer.’
So that’s where he’d learned to speak French. All that pillow talk had clearly done wonders for his mastery of the language.
‘What happened?’ I asked, mopping up the remainder of the delicious juices on my plate with some fresh bread. Despite being desperate to know all the gory details, I didn’t want to appear over keen. Striking the balance between interested friend and slightly obsessed fan-girl, wanting to know every single thing about his French girlfriend, down to her dress size, her hair colour and what she liked to eat for breakfast, was proving difficult.
‘It was just a summer romance. When I went back to England we kept in contact for a while, exchanged letters for a couple of months, but then, well, it just fizzled out. As these things do.’
‘Aw, shame,’ I said, not entirely sincerely. ‘Have you ever thought about looking her up again?’ No. Really? As soon as the words left my lips, I wondered what had possessed me to ask such a thing.
‘What? No.’ Thankfully his rebuttal was wholly convincing. ‘It was just a teenage thing. And I’m not sure it’s ever a good idea to go back. You can’t dwell on the past or what-might-have-beens. Some things have their special moment in time and that was very much of its moment. It’s the here and now that’s important and I’m a great believer in living in the moment.’
There it was again, that gaze, assessing me, sweeping over me in a warm caress. I had to agree with him, the here and now was definitely the place to be.
Twelve
Later, we walked along the cobbled half-lit pavements of the town, peering into the shop windows, Max’s amusement evident as I gushed over the expensive handbags and designer clothes, swooned over the boulangeries and marvelled over the patisseries on our way back to our hotel. Honestly, it was as if I’d never been out of Little Leyton. Occasionally Max placed a firm guiding hand into the small of my back steering me one way and then the other, his assured touch feeling entirely natural and comfortable, if not a whole lot enticing too.
It was only when we were back in our hotel room that the self-consciousness I’d experienced earlier put in an unwelcome return. Hardly surprising when I was so out of touch at being alone with a frankly drop-dead gorgeous man in what was a very warm and welcoming room, a bedroom no less, the said bed looking even more inviting now in the soft golden hue of the bedside lamps. Two beds maybe, but in my eyes it looked like one big open invitation. I mean, how were you supposed to act in these circumstances? I gulped, my earlier exhaustion having done a bunk and now every inch of my being was alive with anticipation and intoxication. How on earth could I be expected to get any sleep tonight? I had to keep reminding myself that I was being daft to even entertain any romantic notions when there was absolutely no suggestion that Max was remotely interested in me in that way.
‘Do you want to use the bathroom first?’ Max asked, whipping off his jumper over his head and pulling up his shirt in the process, giving a tantalizing glimpse of bare bronzed skin.
‘Good idea,’ I said, reluctantly dragging my eyes away from his body, scooping up my bag and dashing into the sanctuary of the bathroom.
I greeted my reflection in the mirror with a grimace, immediately quashing any ideas that there might be any chance of romance. I wasn’t looking my best. Still in jeans and sweatshirt, and wishing I’d brought along a dress or at least a pretty top to have changed into, my long brown hair which had started the day in a neat ponytail was now sticking out at all angles, a frizzy halo framing my face. The quick dash of mascara I’d applied earlier had all but disappeared apart from an unbecoming black splodge beneath my right eye and the bloom of bronzer had been replaced by a mask of weariness. What did it matter? Max probably hadn’t given a second thought to how I was looking.
Quickly, I pulled off my clothes, splashed my face with water, cleaned my teeth, brushed my hair and then climbed into my pyjamas, grateful that I’d remembered to bring some. All scrubbed up and freshly prepared like a turkey at Christmas, I wandered back into the bedroom busying myself with the contents of my bag so I
wouldn’t have to face Max head on.
‘Oh… ha ha… yeah, I like it.’ His gaze travelled from the top of my head down to my bare feet. He was trying and failing not to laugh, which wasn’t quite the reception I’d been expecting.
I looked down at my cotton pyjamas and shrugged. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘I love the jim-jams, my three-year old god-daughter has a pair just like them.’
Perfect. I smiled sweetly, trying to pull off a sophisticated, sexy and elegant vibe in my Hello Kitty Primani two-piece, but in reality it was never going to happen. Maybe if I’d known I’d be sharing a room with a gorgeous man I might have come better prepared, but I hadn’t given it a second thought. An image of Gemma Jones flittered into my mind; she’d managed to rock the bedtime look in her pastel spotted nightwear. I wished I had an ounce of her style and pizzazz. Or the foresight to ask to borrow her pyjamas at least.
I stuck my chin in the air and brazened it out. My whole purpose for this trip was to come and see the conditions people were living in in the refugee camps and to hand over our donations, even if, having witnessed at first hand their hardships, I’d realized what a token effort it had been. Being here with Max was just a distraction; admittedly he was a very good-looking, eminently distracting distraction, but this time tomorrow I’d be back at home and all this awkwardness would be just a vague memory. We could get back to bumping into each other occasionally down the back lanes while walking our dogs or exchanging pleasantries in the pub.
First of all, I just needed to get through one night in the same bed as this man - I mean, how hard could it really be?
*
‘Oh, for god’s sake, what’s the matter?’
Max’s irritated voice broke through the oppressive silence in the darkened room. The bedside table lamp flickered into life and my eyes screwed up against the sudden light.
‘What? What is it?’
‘You,’ said Max, shifting himself up the bed and looking at me accusingly. ‘What’s the matter? You haven’t stopped fidgeting all night. Tossing and turning, sighing, fighting with your pillow – what’s the problem?’
‘Ooh sorry,’ I said, sheepishly. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you, it’s just… well, I’m not sure why but I can’t get to sleep.’ I knew exactly why I couldn't get to sleep, but I could hardly admit that to Max.
‘I would never have known.’ He sighed and swung his legs out of bed, raked his hands through his hair and placed his elbows on his knees, cupping his chin in his hands as he observed me. Even with bedhead hair and dark weary eyes he still managed to look gorgeous. ‘Do you want a drink?’ he asked.
‘Oh no, really, I didn’t mean to disturb you. Sorry. Just get back into bed and I promise not to make another sound.’ I cringed, realizing I was in danger of sounding like his mother. ‘Really, don’t worry about me, I’m sure I’ll fall asleep eventually.’
‘Hmm, somehow I doubt that very much.’
‘When I was a kid and couldn’t get to sleep, my Mum would always say, “Lie on the edge and you’ll soon drop off!” I always smile when I think of that.’
‘Really?’ Only Max wasn’t smiling. He was scowling at me through narrowed eyes.
Guilt fluttered through my veins knowing that I’d woken him, especially after the busy day we’d had. Really, I should have fallen asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow – we’d been up since five o’clock but, alone with only my thoughts in the dark, my mind had been a maelstrom of emotions. The events of the day played over and over in my head; my first impressions on finally reaching the camp, experiencing for myself the damp and cold and squalor, meeting Ima and her baby, wondering if I would have the same strength of character and determination in her position. Then, spending an intimate evening with Max. I was too wired up to be able to switch off. It hadn’t helped when Max stripped down to his black boxers and T-shirt and padded around the bedroom as though he owned the place, before slipping into the bed next to mine. Way too close. Close enough to touch if I moved my hand and yet, oh so far away too.
Definitely, it was all Max’s fault. His presence was all-encompassing, filling the room with his overt masculinity. His subtle natural scent, citrusy and elusive, taunted my nose buds as I lay there chasing sleep, all the time listening out for his breathing, steady, effortless and strangely enchanting. Max was equally compelling asleep as he was when he was wide awake. Clearly, my presence in the bed beside him hadn’t troubled Max in the slightest as he’d had no problem dropping off straight away.
‘Right, well I think I might have a drink,’ he said, rubbing his eyes. ‘Wine?’ He held up a bottle of red he retrieved from a tall oak cabinet.
Really I fancied a warming hot chocolate, but looking around it appeared wine was my only option and having dragged Max from his sleep it seemed rude not to join him in a nightcap.
‘Lovely,’ I said, with a smile, wiggling myself up the bed.
‘So, do you always have trouble sleeping?’ he asked, handing me a glass. ‘Or is this a special occasion?’
‘Normally I sleep like a log, but you must admit it’s been an eventful day. My head is just full of everything. Too much stimulation, obviously,’ I said, with a wry smile. I failed to mention that he had seeped into my innermost thoughts too, and showed no signs of moving out soon. Especially now he was sat up beside me in bed looking deliciously rumpled from sleep.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ he said, with a rueful smile. ‘I wasn’t really tired anyway.’ We both knew that was a blatant lie, but at least it went a tiny way to making me feel better. He poured the wine into flutes, chinking his glass with mine and climbed back onto his bed.
‘I hope you’re not regretting coming with me now,’ I said lightly, taking a sip of my wine which gave me a little shudder. Eugh. Red wine hadn’t improved any since the last time I tried it. Maybe, with a bit of practice, I’d get used to it.
‘Not at all. I’m pleased to have been of some help.’
‘You know, it’s made me realize how lucky we are to live somewhere like Little Leyton. It’s such a beautiful spot – we don’t have to worry about not having a proper roof over our heads, there’s very little crime in the area and there’s such a lovely sense of community.’
‘Not to mention a great pub!’
‘Absolutely. We have so much to be thankful for. Things we take for granted. Like being able to wander down the pub and have a beer. Honestly, if there’s one thing today has taught me it’s that it’s really not worth worrying about the small stuff.’
‘I try not to,’ said Max drolly.
I gave him a sideways glance. Thinking about it, Max was definitely not the type to be sweating the detail. From the little I knew of him, he was a go-getter, someone who made things happen, a successful businessman, someone who wouldn’t think twice about offering to drive a virtual stranger to another country all in aid of a good cause – I liked that about him.
I turned my head to look at him properly and with it came a sharp reminder of just how good-looking he was, especially so reclined next to me on the bed, dressed only in a T-shirt and his boxers. Oh dear lord! How could I have forgotten about those boxers? Snug and leaving very little to the imagination, although I couldn’t help myself from imagining it all anyway. His legs were bronzed, firm and muscular, a rugby player’s legs, I wouldn’t mind betting. My stomach lurched and I averted my gaze back to his face. In profile, his prominent cheekbones and the sharp cut of his jawline covered in a light stubble made him look like a model who’d just turned up for his photo-shoot – designer underwear, obviously.
‘Yeah, you’re right,’ I sighed, deciding it was probably safer to focus on the watercolour painting on the opposite wall, a summer garden depicted in pretty muted colours, rather than the brooding sex-god next to me. ‘Something you said earlier about living in the moment resonated with me. I know I’ve been guilty in the past of not stopping to smell the flowers – instead, focussing on passing exams, getting to uni, finding a
good job, saving money – always looking to the future and a time when everything would be perfect. Now, I realize that it’s so easy to wish your life away doing that. Being back in Little Leyton has taught me that it’s the little things in life that bring the most pleasures: taking a walk in the lovely countryside with the dogs, sharing a coffee or a drink with a friend, feeling you belong in a place. What wouldn’t all those people living in the refugee camps give to have those luxuries?’
‘Yup, definitely. I told you, it’s the here and now that’s important.’ He chuckled to himself. ‘Come here,’ he said, placing his arm around my shoulder and pulling me gently into his side, my head falling naturally onto his shoulder. ‘You’re very talkative in the middle of the night, aren’t you? Why don’t you close your eyes and try to sleep?’ I took the hint and shut up. Besides, now I had other more important things to focus on.
Through the thin cloth of his T-shirt I could hear the rhythmic beating of his heart resonating in my ear. Oh god, my eyes closed involuntarily, and his proximity, the delicious scent of his skin, sent my body into free-fall.
I snuggled into his warm firm body, not knowing for a moment what to do with my free arm until I let it rest across his waist, finding its rightful position. There was absolutely no chance of me sleeping, not now. I tilted my head to look up into his heavy dark eyes and felt myself lost there wondering how we’d got ourselves into this position. His dark gaze perused me intently and my insides melted into a molten pool of desire. His lips, full and wide, drew me to him like a magnetic and I couldn’t have resisted even if I’d wanted to, which I didn’t. I really didn’t. My mouth on his sent waves of desire rippling through my body, making my toes curl and my fingers ache with desire. His kisses were tentative and sweet, and yet tantalized with the promise of so much more. His tongue teased opened my mouth, as he held my face in his hands, his taste deliciously robust and enticing, all at the same time. The here and the now. Wasn’t that what he’d been telling me all night long? I turned my body, reaching up an arm to pull his head down closer to my mine, to feel the strength of his kisses, deeper and harder. His eyes flicked opened to look at me, unease clouded behind the flame.
Christmas at the Dog & Duck Page 10