“Don’t you want me now we’re here?” he teased.
“I do, yes,” I said, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Just not right now; we’ve only just got here,” I said, still trying to release myself from his grip. “And if one of your parents were to walk in right now, you would be putting these bags back into the car and taking me back to New York,” I said firmly.
“I love it when you get angry,” Blake teased as I continued to squirm.
“You will see angry if you don’t let me go,” I said before he leaned up and took my mouth in his. His hand worked its way up my T-shirt and under my bra. He took my breast and started squeezing and rubbing.
“Blake,” I gasped against his mouth, wanting so much for him to do it but feeling how wrong it was at the same time, “we shouldn’t; someone could walk in.”
But he continued, and I made no attempt to stop him. Lifting my skirt to my waist he pressed his thigh between my legs and started to rub, slowly relieving some of the pressure that I could feel building. Needing more from him, I started rubbing against the pressure. It felt so good. His denim rubbing roughly against the thin material of my knickers was hot; it would take only seconds before I would come all over him.
“Can I come in?” A gentle tap at the door was like a bucket of ice-cold water being poured over us both. Blake released me quickly as we both jumped off the bed frantically. My clothes were a mess, and I could feel how flushed my skin had become from my arousal. I pushed my skirt down quickly and grabbed my toiletries bag before rushing into the en-suite bathroom while Blake attempted to look as though he were taking clothes out of the bag while hiding the obvious erection that was pressing against his jeans.
“Your father is useless,” I heard Julia say as she walked into the room. “I gave him one job, just one job, and he couldn’t even do that,” she muttered.
I re-entered the room and tried my hardest to look as though I hadn’t just almost come while Blake and I dry humped on his teenage bed.
“Here are some fresh towels for you both,” Julia said. “Sorry they weren’t in here when you arrived. Men.”
“That’s no problem at all.” I took the towels from Julia. “Thank you.”
“I’ll let you two carry on doing what you’re doing.” I heard Blake cough as laughter erupted from him. “Don’t be too long, though.” She winked before heading out of the room.
I exhaled the huge breath that I had been holding the whole time while Blake laughed.
“Wow,” Blake breathed out. “I was about two minutes away from having to pack these bags back into the car and take you back to New York.” He laughed as he flopped down onto the bed.
“And that is why it won’t be happening again,” I replied. “It’s not funny.”
“It was kind of funny,” Blake said casually.
“Your mum walking into this room and finding me dry humping her son two minutes after we met is not my idea of fun.”
“Come on, she didn’t see anything. You have got to see the funny side,” he laughed.
“I most certainly do not see the funny side,” I said feeling frustrated.
“You are so British.” He shook his head in amusement.
“And you’re an arse,” I replied.
“Someone’s feeling frustrated,” he said as he lay back, placed his hands behind his head, and studied me. “Need me to sort something out for you?”
I threw the dress I was holding at him and walked off to freshen up. The truth was, I was feeling frustrated, and yes, I really wanted Blake to sort it out for me, but Blake’s mum walking in and catching us was enough to drown my libido for now.
I stood at Blake’s window looking out to the huge garden beneath me while Blake sang to himself in the bathroom after finally giving up trying to seduce me and agreeing to get ready for dinner.
I loved Blake’s parents’ house and adored the garden even more. There was a large kidney-shaped swimming pool with sun loungers and sun umbrellas, with a volleyball net in the middle. To the right of the pool was a full-size tennis court that made Centre Court at Wimbledon look amateurish.
Before the pool and tennis court was a large pristine lawn and a decking area which I imagined was great for entertaining, judging by the size of the gas barbecue that was also present.
This was what I wanted: a home that oozed family and love, somewhere private that we could bring up our children in peace.
Shaking my head, I smiled at myself for allowing those thoughts to enter my mind.
So far I was still adamant that with happiness there came a price, Blake was still trying to prove my theory wrong, but as yet I was right; and I always would be, as far as I was concerned. Maybe dreaming of that future was a nice option, but at what cost would it come?
Blake’s phone began to vibrate on the bedside table. I left the window and headed over to answer it but stalled when I saw that it was Christina.
Why was Christina calling Blake? What could she possibly have to say to Blake that would be of interest? The phone stopped vibrating but started again immediately.
“Christina,” I said casually, “what can we do for you?”
I heard Christina gasp with shock at the sound of my voice. “Jo, hi, how are you?”
“Fine. What can I do for you?” I said in a clipped tone.
“Is Blake there? I need to speak to him.”
“He’s kind of indisposed at the moment. I’m sure I can help you.”
“Can you ask him to call me, please?”
“Is Alex ok?”
“Of course, why?”
“I’m just trying to work out why it’s so important for you to speak to Blake while were away, that’s all.”
“I just …. Please, could you just ask him to call me? It’s important that I speak with him.”
“Sure,” I sighed.
“Oh, and Jo? About that night and everything I told you … I—”
“Forget it,” I said, cutting her off. “I have.”
“Well, I am sorry, and I hope that it didn’t cause any bad feelings between the two of you.”
“Goodbye, Christina,” I said before hanging up the phone and placing it back on the bedside table.
Blake emerged from the bathroom and placed his phone into his pocket. “Ready?”
Deciding not to tell him at that moment that Christina had called, and not wanting yet another argument about why she was even calling Blake, I nodded and followed him out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen, where Julia and Marti were preparing dinner.
“Well, you two took your time,” Marti said dryly. “We will have drinks outside later. Dinner is almost ready.” He smiled. “Sit yourselves down,” he said, gesturing to the well-laid-out table.
“Marti, get Jo a glass of wine, will you darling.”
Rolling his eyes, Marti placed the pot roast in the centre of the table and headed to the fridge, from which he pulled a bottle of crisp white wine.
“One thing I can tell you about the Mackenzie men, Jo, is that you need to keep them on a tight leash,” she teased before thanking Marti for his help with a kiss on his cheek.
“I’m beginning to realize that,” I said in a low tone, unsure if anyone had heard me.
Blake’s smile faded as his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
I threw him a quick smile before picking up my glass and taking a large needed gulp of wine. I was wishing now that I had told him about the call. Since leaving the bedroom only a few moments ago, I had allowed myself to imagine all sorts of scenarios. Why would she need to talk to Blake all of a sudden? Was there something going on that I knew nothing about? But surely Blake wouldn’t lie to me? Keep anything from me? He loves me … I know he loves me … I’m pretty sure that he loves me.
During dinner my stomach continued to knot up at the thought of Blake and Christina. I had allowed the sordid thoughts back into my head, and the longer I sat there, the more and more I convinced myself that something must be going on b
etween them.
“You’re not eating much,” Blake said as he leaned in to whisper against my ear.
“I’m not very hungry,” I replied quietly as I looked down at the food I was pushing around my plate.
“Do you still feel ill?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“Nothing,” I replied firmly.
“What are you two lovebirds whispering about over there?” Marti asked.
“Nothing for you to worry about, Dad.” Blake smiled and got back to eating his dinner. His eyes turned to me every now and then, but I didn’t return the glances.
“If something is bothering you, then tell me, please,” he said, leaning into me once more.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
I stiffened when Blake’s hand touched my knee, but he didn’t move it away; instead he kept on watching me, his eyes burning into me. I had got myself into a complete state over one stupid call that was probably innocent.
“So Jo, I can’t believe you’re gonna be in Perfect Alibi; that’s fantastic. I don’t know if Blake’s told you, but that is my all-time favourite sitcom,” Marti said excitedly.
“No,” I said, looking up to Marti and trying my best to look happy, “Blake hasn’t told me that; must have slipped his mind.” I threw Blake a quick look before turning my attention back to Marti.
“You should both come along on Friday; both Fridays, in fact. I’ll speak to Marcus about getting you in to watch us record if you like?” I said enthusiastically.
“Well, I would love that,” he replied excitedly. “She is definitely my favourite,” he said to Julia as he pointed his fork in my direction before winking at me.
“Marti!” Julia said as she tapped his arm playfully. “What he meant to say, dear,” she said, turning her attention to me, “is thank you.”
“Yeah, thank you, Jo; I’m looking forward to it already.”
“No problem.” I smiled as I felt Blake squeeze my knee gently with appreciation.
“I’ve got to ask,” Marti said before wiping his mouth with his napkin. “Your mother” – he placed his elbows on the table as he studied me – “is she the Diana Summers, the one who was in one of the Carry On movies?”
I nodded and smiled as I swallowed the small bite of food I had managed to eat. “She was in three.”
“Well I’ll be damned,” Marti said, sitting back in his seat. “I knew I could see a resemblance. I love those movies.”
“Marti won’t admit it in front of you, dear, but when those films came to the cinemas; he had a massive crush on your mother.”
My eyes widened in surprise.
“She was a real beauty,” he said in defence. “An English rose” – he smiled – “just like our girl Jo, here.”
“Thank you,” I replied shyly.
“Okay, that’s enough embarrassing the guest,” Blake said.
“I’m not embarrassed,” I said, turning to face him. “It’s a compliment. You saw it as a compliment when I was called an English rose on national TV, so why not from your dad?”
Blake eyed me suspiciously for a moment before replying, “I do.” He forced a smile. “I just know that you get embarrassed sometimes; my apologies.” He focused back on his dinner, and conversation began again.
“Is that your phone I can hear, Blake?” the vibrating had started again, and my heart rate picked up once more.
Blake reached into his pocket and checked the screen before putting it back into his pocket.
“Who is it?” I asked calmly.
“Just Alex; I’ll call him back after dinner.”
Like the previous time the phone had rang, it started vibrating again straight after it had cut off. “He’s obviously calling you for a reason,” I said. “Answer it.”
“We’re in the middle of dinner,” he said, moving his eyes between the three of us at the table. “I’ll call him later.”
I sat looking at Blake knowing that, one, that wasn’t Alex calling, it was Christina; and two, he had been lying to me when we had agreed to no more lies and no more secrets.
Blake and I barley spoke for the rest of the meal. Julia went on to tell us the plans for the following day, which was Marti’s birthday. It was forecast to be a red-hot day, so it was decided that we would spend the most part at the beach, where we would meet up with Blake’s sister Jasmine again along with her husband Robert and little Fraser. Then it would be back here for one of Marti’s famous barbecues in the evening. It all sounded lovely, and I tried to feel enthusiastic about it; I just needed to know first what the hell was going on between Blake and Christina.
We were just finishing dessert when Blake’s phone started vibrating again. “I’m gonna have to take it this time,” he sighed before standing and leaving the table. He headed out through the patio doors onto the decking area. He was just out of reach for me to hear the call, so excusing myself, I headed upstairs. I had been standing at the open window just a couple of hours ago, and it was directly above where Blake was now standing.
“What part of ‘Don’t call me over the weekend’ was so hard to understand?” I heard him say. “Jo is already suspicious; she’s been acting weird during dinner and is going to start asking questions if I have to keep lying to her. She knows that something is going on.” My breathing quickened, and a sick feeling filled my body. “Tell her not to call me again, okay? I will call her on Monday when I have left for the airport.”
My mind went into overdrive. Why would he need to call her Monday on his way to the airport? What exactly was going on between them that he couldn’t tell me about? There was only one explanation: he obviously still had something going with her that he just couldn’t seem to let go of.
Nothing made sense: how much he claimed to love me, how he couldn’t go on without me, how much he needed to protect me and prove to me that you can be happy without paying a price. Here he was having secret phone calls with the woman who took his virginity and, according to her, taught him everything he knew, the woman that I couldn’t bear to be around anymore since the night that she took my happiness and ripped it from me.
I couldn’t bear to hear any more. I would see the night out for Julia and Marti’s sake, and then I would confront Blake before I got on a bus or whatever I could manage and went home. I was sick of fighting for happiness, sick of constantly trying to trust someone only to get burnt over and over again, sick of trying to make myself feel happy when inside. I was dying a slow and painful death.
I could hear no more. I turned and headed back downstairs just as Blake re-entered the kitchen. His eyes met mine, and he could see that something was wrong. I refused to cry. I’d cried too many tears as it was lately; I couldn’t do it anymore, so I took a deep breath, plastered on a smile that physically hurt, and walked to the table to help Marti and Julia to clear away.
Blake’s body pressed against my back as I reached for the glasses on the table. “Something is wrong, and you are going to tell me what it is,” he said into my ear. Slipping away from him, I carried the glasses to the kitchen, where Julia was loading the dishwasher. Blake followed closely behind.
“Ah, Blake, now you’re back, you and your father can continue to clear away while I spend some quality time with your lovely girl. It’s time us girls got to know each other, don’t you agree?” she asked with a smile.
I felt relieved at Julia’s offer; getting away from Blake right now was just what I needed. “Definitely,” I replied.
“Come on, I’ve got some lovely albums of Blake to show you.” She winked, and I forced a smile before following her out of the kitchen and through to the sitting room.
I felt Blake’s eyes watching me as we left the room. Was he really so clueless that he had no idea what was wrong with me?
Julia and I had been gone for just ten minutes when Blake appeared in the lounge, concern still etched on his face. Refusing to show any emotion in front of Julia, I kept my eyes firmly on the photo album that she had pla
ced into my lap, which was filled with photos of Blake as a baby – a beautiful baby, in fact. For a moment I allowed my mind to wonder whether our babies would look as beautiful as he did as a baby. That obviously would never happen now I knew he was lying to me about the woman I had now decided that I hated.
Julia didn’t give him a chance to sit down, however; she ordered him and Marti to “go watch some sport or whatever you men enjoy doing.”
I could tell he tried desperately to get my eyes to meet his before he left the room, but I wasn’t going to give him anything, not in front of his parents.
“I’ve never seen him so happy as he is now, dear,” Julia said before polishing off her glass of wine and refilling it. “I hope you don’t mind” – she paused before resting back down on the sofa – “but Blake told me what happened to you,” she said sympathetically.
“Oh,” I replied.
“Blake will look after you now,” she said, patting my thigh as I continued to look at the photos. “He is very protective over you.”
“Do you think I can trust him?” I asked suddenly.
“What do you mean?” she asked defensively.
“I just find it so hard to believe I can finally be happy, you know?” I asked as I closed the book and turned to face Julia. “He’s beautiful, inside and out, and even now I find it hard to believe that we can be happy and have a future. How do I know that he will never do the same to me that Michael did?”
Julia smiled, not knowing the right words to say.
“I suppose you just have to trust him,” she said simply.
“Have you always trusted Marti?”
She thought for a moment before replying, “Not always, no.” She turned to face me. “When he was at his peak in the game, he wasn’t just a sport star; he was quickly turning into a global superstar.”
I nodded. I had been there with Michael.
“He thought he was God.” She snorted. “And like you, our lives were put under the microscope a lot. I couldn’t trust that he wasn’t up to no good when he was away from me. There would be pictures of him and his team players out in clubs, and even though there was nothing sinister about the pictures, I often wondered whether that was the life he would prefer. The children were only young; I felt like a mess. I even had to stop working at the hospital, and I loved that job so much; but because people knew who I was, it was impossible to lead a normal life. He was living his dream, and even though I had everything I’d always dreamed of, I always felt like I was put on the back burner while he swanned around like the God he thought he was. That’s partly why we brought this house. It was our escape, a place that we could just be Julia and Marti, not what the press wanted us to be. In a way I think it saved us.” Her voice had become very quiet as she remembered the good that came from the bad. I felt my eyes fill up with sadness for her, as it was as though she were describing my life, only twenty years before.
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