The Little Shop of Afternoon Delights

by Sarah Lefebve

  ‘Will someone tell me where we’re going, please? Why am I always the last to know everything?’

  ‘Because you’re always the last to get ready. Go, now, quick.’ Rory gave her a shove towards the house. ‘Jeans, t-shirt and denim jacket. Now.’

  ‘But Pip’s got shorts on.’

  ‘Pip isn’t coming with us, she’s just along for the ride.’

  ‘Boots?’

  ‘Shoes.’ Came from Mick along with a simultaneous ‘sandals’ from Pip and a ‘for fuck’s sake hurry up,’ from Rory. Lottie hurried up.

  ‘I thought we were going for a romantic vibe on this trip?’ Mick shook his head, which scattered a fine shower of water over the dashboard, as Lottie squeezed into the back of his vehicle along with the three dogs, and Rory.

  ‘Are we?’ Rory sounded mildly surprised as he took the opportunity to let his fingertips stray over the soft, exposed skin of Lottie’s shoulders, down to where her breasts swelled out from the skimpy t-shirt. He’d known exactly what was going through her head earlier, and he really would have liked to have pushed her onto all fours and tried to show her who was boss. Even if she was usually in giggles, until she hit that point of no return. He shifted, trying to accommodate his growing erection without being too obvious. Lottie put her hand over it, which didn’t help.

  ‘Well so Pip and Amanda told me.’ Mick started up the engine, shaking his head again. ‘Romantic, not rude. You two better not do anything on my back seat.’

  Rory grinned and put his hands behind his head. ‘Nothing to do with me, mate. Anyway what’s Amanda got to do with this?’

  ‘Amanda helped me pack.’ Pip giggled and put her feet up on the dashboard, Rory gave a dirty laugh, Lottie frowned and Mick crunched the gears. Everybody, it seemed, had the holiday vibe. He gave in, wound all the windows down and turned the radio up.

  Half an hour later, with a particularly bad rendition of ‘Good Vibrations’ blasting out from the back seat, Mick pulled in to the drop-off point at the airport. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.’ He winked at Lottie, handed Rory the case and watched Pip join in the dogs’ farewell bounce. Surprisingly she carried on bouncing all the way back over to him and almost gave him a hug, then realised what was happening and backed off. Mick grinned, and waited.

  Pip gave as close to a blush as he’d ever seen. ‘I hope they have a great time.’

  They watched the crowd in the departure hall swallow up Lottie and Rory.

  ‘They will.’ Mick slammed shut the rear door and felt strangely like a decision had been made for him. The lift inside him couldn’t even be quashed by the site of the three terriers doing a wall of death run round the inside of the car.

  ‘Now we’ve got rid of that pair, how about playing hooky?’ Mick’s fingers brushed hers as he opened the door for her, too slow not to be deliberate. With Lottie and Rory messing about in the back of the car, and Pip’s tanned slim legs on full display in the front, he’d finally decided he needed to give in to the urges that had been bothering him for a while. When he’d first seen Pip he’d thought her attractive, but he’d veered towards the much simpler, gentler vibe that Lottie gave out. Lottie was like a wild bird, beautiful, but needing her freedom. Pip was dangerous, sharp and with an insatiable urge to get to the bottom of things. And he hadn’t wanted anyone to get to the bottom of him. But the more time he spent with her, the more the need to challenge her came out, the desire to show her what she could have if she really wanted it.

  Pip needed a firm hand, not the easy wishy-washy delights of an insecure man like Tom. And, if he was honest with himself, he needed a woman who wasn’t afraid to answer back, to know her mind, even if it did make him feel like he was teetering on the edge of something like a very deep snake-filled pit.

  ‘What type of hooky?’

  ‘Your call. But no horses’ feet or muck heaps involved.’

  ‘You fancy Lottie, don’t you?’ Pip tried to ignore the goosebumps, and the fact that being stuck in close proximity to Mick, hemmed in by leather seats, glass and metalwork, was an altogether trickier prospect than having a go at him on a stable yard. Verbal sparring was fun, but this looked like it could be something more serious. And dodging serious was a favourite habit of hers.

  She could always, she supposed, open the car door and make her escape, except they were now moving, and she wasn’t that desperate.

  ‘I’m not going to be lying, darling. She’s quite a meal to feast my eyes on, but she’s not mine to touch.’ His hand briefly made contact with her exposed thigh as he took the handbrake off, and Pip gave an involuntary squeak.

  ‘No, she’s not.’ Even to her own ears Pip sounded a bit uptight, not her usual relaxed and easy-come, easy-go self.

  ‘Do you never go back to Wales?’ His hand was back on the steering wheel, which was a bit annoying.

  ‘Not often. Do you ever go back to Ireland?’

  ‘I was planning on doing it soon. Must have given me itchy feet watching the two lovebirds go off.’

  ‘Do you think they are?’

  ‘Lovebirds? Oh yes, bound for life. Flighty, sociable, but inseparable.’

  ‘And pretty.’

  ‘Indeed.’

  Pip wasn’t quite sure why she was pushing him, except she had seen the looks he gave Lottie, seen how easily they got along, with none of the friction that seemed to exist between herself and the dark Irishman. Insecure and jealous weren’t two of her traits, so obviously it couldn’t be because of that.

  ‘Fancy coming along? To Ireland when I go. I’m sure you could find something to write about, even if it’s only to moan about the fine tradition of hunting.’

  ‘It’s archaic and cruel. You need to move with the times.’

  He laughed. ‘Just because an idea is new, doesn’t mean it’s better. Besides,’ he paused as he swung onto the motorway, ‘it’s a basic instinct for a man to hunt down his quarry.’ He glanced at her briefly, then turned his gaze back to the road. ‘And there’s nothing wrong with basic instincts.’

  ‘Where are we going?’ Even unsettled, Pip couldn’t miss the fact that they’d come off the motorway a junction early.

  ‘I’m taking you up to the Edge. Fancy it?’

  ‘Sure.’ There was a tingle between her thighs and a strange feeling at the pit of her stomach that Pip hadn’t felt for a long time.

  ‘They say there’s witches and the likes up there. We can do a bit of hunting of our own, I thought.’

  ‘Planning on stripping me back to my basic instincts are you?’

  ‘Planning on stripping you bare, darling.’ The deep, throaty chuckle left Pip squirming in the leather seat with absolutely no doubt at all about what playing hooky was going to involve.

  ***

  ‘Did you pack this case yourself?’

  ‘Yes. Well, no.’

  The girl behind the check-in desk, who had been smiling nicely, stopped abruptly. There was a deadly pause. ‘Yes, or no?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Bet they don’t hear that often.’ Rory groaned.

  ‘But I didn’t. You did.’

  ‘Well, actually I didn’t.’ He shrugged apologetically.

  The girl now looked like she was about to call someone a bit more senior, and the queue of people behind started feet-shuffling.

  ‘You didn’t?’

  ‘How would I know what to put in? Pip and Amanda did it.’

  ‘Pip. Oh, God.’ Lottie put her head in her hands and rolled her eyes at the girl, who was still looking undecided on the next course of action.

  ‘You didn’t pack the case?’

  ‘I didn’t. But it’ll be fine.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but you do need to know what’s in it. You have to pack it yourself.’ The girl looked pointedly at the prominently displayed sign, which Lottie thought was a bit excessive.

  ‘I do? Sorry, I do. Well, I do. Would you trust a friend like her to pack your case? Shall I open it?’

  ‘Excuse me, love,
but some of us are waiting to catch a plane here.’ The man who had been waiting impatiently behind them, shuffling feet and coughing, had obviously listened in, and was now getting worried about the prospect of Lottie emptying the entire contents of her suitcase onto the desk for inspection.

  ‘Sorry, I am honestly, truly sorry. But I queued too, you know, and it’s not my fault it’s a surprise trip, is it?’

  ‘Ahh.’ His wife grinned at her, then more broadly at Rory. ‘Bless, isn’t that romantic, Bob. I wish you’d do something like that for me. There isn’t a hidden ring in there is there?’ She nudged Bob in the ribs and threw Rory a wink that was more leery than loving.

  Bob didn’t look impressed. ‘Bloody soft if you ask me.’

  ‘But I’m not, Bob. Am I, love?’

  ‘Er, no.’ Getting hot and bothered was something Lottie had been expecting to get once the plane had landed at the other end, not before they’d even boarded.

  Lottie finally got to grips with the lock on the case, and wished she hadn’t as it burst open. It wasn’t just the sheer quantity of knickers spilling forth that bothered her, it was the colours. This was not going to be a discreet nude-undies trip, this was multi-colour mayhem.

  ‘On second thoughts.’ Bob had lost his grumpiness and seemed to be showing a particular interest in her favourite red undies, which she hastily pushed underneath one of the few t-shirts that had been packed.

  ‘I’ve not got anything sharp or inflammable or anything, have I? You can see. Look,’ Lottie delved through the contents, then pushed them back down. ‘I’ve packed it myself now.’ She hastily crammed the overflowing lingerie back, grabbing the leopard-skin bra as it made a bid for freedom. ‘My God, those aren’t my shorts, where did those come from?’ She held what looked to be skin-tight (well, definitely skin-tight given the size of her thighs) white shorts up, then seeing the look on Bob’s face hastily dropped them back into the case and fought a losing battle to keep the top pinned down as she tried to coax the zip round, trapping pink lace and satin in the process.

  ‘I’m not sure, I might have to ask—’ The check-in girl was looking seriously confused. She obviously hadn’t been faced with a knicker selection this large before.

  ‘No, please don’t.’ Asking would only prolong the agony. ‘Look, it’s all fine.’

  A look of sudden relief flooded her features and got rid of the frown lines. ‘You do know that case is small enough to take on as hand luggage; you’ve no need to check it into the hold, you know. And you have already checked in.’

  ‘Is it?’ Rory stared at the offending case. ‘And we’ve checked in? Well, why didn’t Pip say so?’

  ‘You probably weren’t listening.’

  ‘Would you like to carry it on, Sir, Madam?’

  ‘Do I want to?’

  ‘It hasn’t been paid for, so you will have to pay if I put it in the hold. Although there is always the possibility that they will offer to take it off you at the gate.’

  ‘Will they? Shall I? So why not just give it to you now, if they’re going to take it anyway.’

  ‘You’ll have to pay if I take it now.’ The check-in girl was getting bored.

  ‘We’ll keep it.’ Rory decided that Lottie and her knickers had entertained the crowd for long enough, and he was getting quite keen on the idea of a private viewing, having spotted a red thong that he was pretty sure he’d never seen displayed between her buttocks before. In fact, if he stood here much longer, his hard-on might start to cause a visible problem. ‘Come on.’

  ‘Can I see your passports and booking confirmations, please sir?’

  ‘Passport. Where’s my passport?’ Lottie suddenly remembered that whilst she’d been holding a horse’s foot, Rory had been asking where her passport was and she couldn’t remember saying. They’d been distracted, by Mick, and dogs.

  As the check-in girl looked like she was going to spontaneously combust, Rory decided to take charge. Grabbing Lottie’s hand in his, and the, by now, firmly fastened case in his other, he shot his best winning smile in the crowd’s direction.

  Cries of ‘give us an update on the knickers on the trip back’ and ‘why don’t you have knickers like that?’ echoed behind them as they headed towards the departures gate.

  ***

  ‘This is worse than qualifying a horse for the Olympic team.’ Rory, who was perfectly used to all the paperwork that had to accompany his horses when they went abroad, didn’t think it should apply to him, a mere mortal. The sight of a snaking queue of people, packed three-deep, disappearing into the distance, seemed to have flicked a switch in him. He had no control and he didn’t like it.

  The fact that he’d been organised enough to have boarding cards and passports packed somewhere (even if it took him a while to remember exactly where) had impressed Lottie. So he’d been pleased with himself. But as the realities of travelling cattle class from Manchester Airport sank in, he increasingly began to wonder why the hell he’d allowed Pip, Amanda and Mick to talk him into this. Surely a weekend away at a cross-country event would have worked just as well? And they’d have had horses to distract them too. He texted all three of them to say as much. Amanda was the only one that responded, and it seemed a bit curt. ‘Exactly. No distractions. Concentrate on Lottie not the horses for once.’ He didn’t share the update, but turned his attention back to the queue, which had diminished to quite an extent. They were now feet away from the finishing line. And the stripping-off routine.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me we were coming to an airport?’ Lottie tugged off her wedge-heeled sandals and dropped them into a plastic tray, followed by her belt, mobile and jacket. Then she risked the scanner, just knowing it would go off.

  It wasn’t even as though she’d have the fun of being frisked by an even mildly attractive man, just a middle-aged woman who looked like she’d had a very bad day. After sticking her arms up, down, turning around, sticking her legs out, having fingers inside her waistband and having a security wand perilously close to parts she’d rather keep private, Lottie was finally allowed to put everything back on in double-quick time while people queued behind her to grab their own trays back.

  ‘You must look suspicious.’ Rory planted a kiss at the base of her neck as she tried to balance on one leg to put her shoes back on. He’d perked up now that the hell was over and a drink-filled bar would soon be within his grasp. ‘Cheer up, I thought girls were supposed to like surprises.’

  ‘Maybe I’m not a normal girl.’

  ‘That’s probably why I love you.’

  Lottie stopped dead, and nearly caused a pile-up of a family of four with matching luggage, who were close behind. ‘You love me?’ He’d never said that before.

  Rory looked confused. Then decided he was obviously scoring bonus points without even trying. ‘Let me show you the ways.’ He winked. ‘I’ll start off by buying you a drink.’

  ‘And telling me why we’re catching a plane to Barcelona?’

  Two glasses of champagne later, Lottie wasn’t that bothered about exactly why or where they were going. It just seemed a nice idea. And it seemed remarkably and wonderfully romantic of Rory to take a couple of days off just as the eventing season was starting to heat up. Maybe he did listen after all.

  Chapter 23

  ‘It says there’s a two-hour delay on the departure board.’

  Lottie looked uncomprehendingly at Rory. She’d been expecting him to announce a departure gate, not a delay.

  ‘Some muttering about air traffic control strikes, from old Bob.’

  ‘Oh, no. You’ve not seen him, have you?’ Lottie wasn’t sure she wanted a conversation with a man who’d spent ten minutes studying her entire lingerie collection, plus some extras she had never seen before either.

  ‘Well, he is on our flight. He was near the departure board moaning about the state of the country and how the great should be taken out of Great Britain ’cos of the trade descriptions act. I did point out that this might not be team GB�
�s fault.’

  ‘Bet that went down well.’

  ‘And I said they make bloody good knickers. His wife tried to kiss me, then she said she was sure she’d seen me before somewhere, so I scarpered.’ Rory had been told, in no uncertain terms, that this was about Lottie, that horses shouldn’t be mentioned, and autographs shouldn’t be signed. He had sneaked a quick look at Horse and Hound in WH Smiths, on the way back from the departure board, and he had checked the British Eventing website on his phone while he was in the gents, but that was it. ‘Look, would you be really upset if we didn’t actually go to Barcelona?’

  Lottie’s face fell. That just had to be the shortest-lived display of listening and caring in the history of modern man. So much for some time together, although the time they’d spent together so far in the airport probably topped any other record. But surely ‘togetherness’ meant more than a departures lounge?

  Rory saw the look and felt a moment of panic. He had wanted this to work, he really had. The lecture from Mick had struck a chord after listening to Billy’s outpourings. Dominic might be a bit of a stuck-up, pompous prick sometimes, but the words he’d thrown at Billy about not being responsible and looking after his wife were not a million miles from Mick’s. And yet he knew Billy had loved Alexa with a passion; everyone in the village did and everyone involved in the horse world did.

  ‘Show her she’s important before someone else does. If you don’t want to look after her then there’s a queue waiting behind you,’ had been Mick’s parting words. It was supposed to be a discussion about Mick and Niamh, but somehow Mick, with his clever tongue, had twisted it round to be all about Rory, and how it was all his fault Lottie had gone abroad, and it would be all his fault if she headed off again.

  ‘I don’t mean not have a break, just not Barcelona.’

  ‘Well no, you booked it, not me.’

  ‘Instead of spending all day in airports, why don’t I book us into a nice hotel – we could explore your underwear collection.’

  Lottie grinned, and Rory was shocked at how pleased he felt. ‘Well, to be honest I’m not all that keen on going.’ She hadn’t been; it was just the fact that Rory was taking her that had been exciting. ‘It wasn’t quite the same after they arrested Todd.’