“Uh-oh,” I hear my dad mutter and something clatters in the kitchen.
“Did you know?” I hear Elle hiss as I’m padding down the hallway.
“No,” my dad lies and shushes her. He swings open the door, revealing dark blue eyes set in a flour covered face. “Son?”
I grin at him. “The tenants have moved out so I’ve been to inspect the property. I wanted to surprise you.” I hold up the two bags of food.
My dad smirks and shakes his head, keeping his hand on the door handle to the kitchen. “Now isn’t a good time.”
“Don’t be stupid.” I push past him, which is harder than I thought it would be. He’s strong for an old man. “I can’t drive home now; it’s getting late.”
He finally budges and allows me access to the kitchen.
I don’t have to fake my surprise at seeing Eloise. My shock is genuine, but it isn’t because she’s here, it’s because of how she looks.
She gives me a little wave and quirks a brow at me as my eyes eat up her form, hungrily, desperately. She’s in nothing but blue shorts and a white vest top. Her body is toned, curvaceous and delicious. I want to wrap my arms around her and drag my fingers over every inch of flesh. I haven’t yet seen her in anything so revealing and, by God, she is all woman.
My mouth dries when I reach her face and see her new haircut. It suits her, maybe even more so than her long hair. She’s cut it short, to her chin, and has it fluffed up at the back where it rises in layers from the base of her neck.
“Isaac,” she breathes and clears her throat as our eyes meet. Her flour covered fingers reach to tuck her hair behind her ears. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too,” I croak. I need a drink, desperately. I need a sip of her lips, her essence. Why the fuck did I let her go? I’m a foolish man. “I didn’t realise you were here.” My eyes finally drag from her to assess the mess. It seems they are making some kind of bread. “Having fun?”
“Your dad is sharing a few family secrets with me.”
I tense. She can’t be talking about…
“Banana bread, being the first.” My dad slaps me on the back, effectively cutting off my line of thought. “And my famous bread and butter pudding.”
“Nice,” I say, feeling relieved. “May I help?”
Elle looks uncertain for only a brief second before nodding with a genuine smile. “Of course.”
I place the bags on the small, round kitchen table to my right and vow to put them away later. Elle points to the sink, so I wash my hands and move to stand beside her.
“My dad hasn’t done this for a while,” I say, watching as they knead the dough on the counter. “It works better if you separate it into smaller balls.”
“I knew there was something I was forgetting,” he grumbles and we both start pulling the dough apart and rolling it between our hands.
Elle can’t quite get the dough to form a ball without cracks along the surface so I take the opportunity to touch her. Her body tenses as I slide behind her and place my arms along hers. Cupping our hands together around the dough, I show her how to gently roll it and then pinch the bottom.
Her close proximity is intoxicating. I breathe deeply, ignoring the scent of banana, cinnamon and flour in order to search for that familiar rhubarb.
“Like this.” I tap her hands onto the flour and cinnamon and roll the dough again. Her arms remain loose but not floppy as I guide her and her body slowly begins to relax. I dip my head so my jaw brushes against her cheekbone.
Her hair is soft against my cheek and smells so sweet. I want to nuzzle the back of the long, shapely neck that her hair no longer covers. I want to kiss from the top of her neck to the base of her spine. Does her skin still taste as good as it once did?
Every inch of my body tingles with anticipation. If I shift slightly forward, just slightly, my aching cock will be touching her.
I just don’t want to disrespect her like that.
“I think I’ve got it,” she says, sounding breathy and husky. Her tone isn’t helping my predicament. I don’t want to let her go.
“Smooth.” My dad mutters the word, elongating the ‘oo’.
“What was that?” Elle asks my father genuinely as I give him a look that screams ‘Shut up!’
“I was just saying that these are going to be delicious. Look how smooth they are.” He points to the dough balls on the baking tray. “I’m so hungry.”
“Are you staying for dinner, Isaac?” Elle asks. She doesn’t look upset by the prospect, merely curious. I want to tell her that I’m staying the night but I’m worried she’ll make an excuse to leave.
“Yeah, just dinner though.” I spot the lasagne sheets on the side by the kettle and smile. “I haven’t had your lasagne in years.” I move to wash the flour, cinnamon and sticky dough from my hands. “Is that okay? Feel free to say no. I won’t be offended.”
“Don’t be silly.” She hits me gently with a tea-towel and rolls her eyes. “This is your home more than it is mine. I’m happy to see you, actually.”
Surprising. “You are?”
“Yeah, should I be angry to see you? Sad?”
I panic for a moment before I see that she’s teasing; her smirk says as such.
“I’ll start cleaning.” I grab the dishcloth and a bottle of spray.
“I’ll do the dishes.” My dad moves to the sink.
“And I will start preparing the lasagne while the bread cooks.”
“And then chess?” Dad asks and it’s my turn to roll my eyes.
“And then chess.” She grins.
“How are things?” I ask them both as I slide the cutting board over to my dad for him to wash.
“Good, Elle has this great idea for your mother.”
I glance at Elle and notice that her cheeks have turned pink. “It’s silly really…”
“Your mother has an obsession with babies, as you know, so Eloise has bought her a doll that cries and laughs.”
She shrugs. “I saw a video online and thought it would be worth a try. The family of that dementia patient said that it really calms their mum.”
“I suppose it makes sense, stepping into her world rather than trying to pull her back into ours?”
“Exactly.”
Eloise
Eating dinner together was actually a pleasant experience. Isaac hasn’t lost his charm and at times had me laughing so hard my cheeks still ache from it.
In the beginning I was a little bit annoyed that he showed up, but I had a feeling it would happen. Neither John nor Isaac seem to be at fault though, so there’s no use being angry about it.
But then I started emptying the bags that Isaac brought.
“It’s funny,” I say without turning. John is taking the banana bread from the oven and Isaac is playing on his phone by the back door.
“What is?” Isaac asks without looking up.
“How neither of you knew the other was coming, yet Isaac seems to have filled two bags full of my old favourite snacks and drinks.” I hold up the berry wine and quirk a brow as I turn to face him. His wide startled eyes stare back at me. “Didn’t know you drank wine, Isaac.”
He runs his tongue over his lower lip, clearly lost for words.
“Well, fuck.” John curses and throws the tea towel on the counter. “In my defence, I genuinely didn’t know he was coming until the last minute.”
“And I didn’t know you were here until the last minute,” Isaac mumbles and looks to his dad for help.
Rolling my eyes back to the final bag, I pluck a grape from the bunch he bought and throw it at him. “You would’ve gotten away with it too if not for this.”
He grins wickedly at me. “Does this mean I can stay?”
“Stay?” My heart starts to hammer a rapid beat in my chest.
“The night.” His hand reaches forward and plucks something from my hair. It crumbles between his finger and thumb so it must have been a clump of flour and cinnamon. “Unless it would upset
Silas.”
“She’s not with Silas anymore,” John blurts and quickly shuts his mouth. “Sorry, Elle,” he mutters as I glare at him and he then promptly exits the kitchen.
“I’m sorry,” Isaac says and though he probably isn’t being genuine, he looks it.
Shrugging, I step around him and begin putting the stuff into the cupboards. “It isn’t your fault.”
“I feel like it might be.” I feel his heat against his back. “And I’m sorry if it is.”
“But you aren’t sorry if it isn’t?”
“No.” His admission makes my mouth go dry. “You know…”
The loud ringing of the phone startles us both. I finish doing what I’m doing as Isaac goes to answer it. I can’t hear what’s being said and I don’t try to. The sooner I finish cleaning this kitchen, the sooner I can play chess with John and watch crap movies that I picked.
“The wedding was a beautiful event,” John says and I agree. “The food was great, the atmosphere…” Until the end, it was great too. “If you’d waited, do you think that’s what your wedding would have been like?”
Isaac’s eyes meet mine and a moment of clarity flashes between us as we remember our wedding so long ago. “I liked our wedding,” he says.
“Me too.”
“You both looked so happy.” John tells us and we smile together.
“We were.” My voice is soft and quiet. It’s crazy thinking that it has genuinely been more than five years since we got married. That much time couldn’t have passed, could it? “Anyway… Chess?”
“Need you ask?” John reaches for the board just as Isaac’s hand presses against the back of my neck. He pulls me close and kisses my temple. The warm, soft gesture melts a layer of frost that rests over my heart.
“I’ll leave you both to it for a while,” he whispers and stands. “I won’t intrude too much.”
He exits the room before either of us can protest and even though John clearly wants to, we also don’t talk about it.
Isaac
It’s late, we watched a terrible movie and now it’s time for bed. My dad went up five minutes ago, leaving Elle and I on opposite ends of the couch, texting on our phones in awkward silence.
“I’ll go and grab my blanket.”
“I feel bad kicking you out of your room,” she whispers. I watch her beauty in the flicker of the light from the television.
“I know a way to rectify that,” I joke, though mostly I’m not joking.
She groans and stands, allowing me a glimpse of her stomach as she stretches tall. “I’m not sharing a bed with you.”
“Why not?” I push, hoping that she’ll change her mind, if only so that I get one last chance to mould her body to mine and kiss her soft neck. “We used to. I promise I’ll behave.”
“I can’t promise that,” she mumbles so quietly I barely hear it and my cock and heart pulse in time with each other.
Did she really say that?
“It’s not a big deal.” I stand too, so I’m on an equal level with her. “This couch is awfully lumpy.”
She slaps my arm almost pitifully. “Stop trying to make me feel bad and go and get your blanket.”
“But…” I try but she grabs my shoulders and shoves me towards the door. Unfortunately for her I grab her wrist, pull her with me and turn at the last second so I can pin her between my body and the door.
The way her pupils dilate tells me that she’s as affected by this as I am. I want to lift her legs so they’re wrapped around my hips. I want to grab her breast as my lips collide with hers.
“What are you doing?” She breathes and keeps her eyes on my neck.
“Playing,” I respond and stroke my fingers up her arm from her wrist to her neck. The way she shivers and gulps only spurs me onwards. The problem is, I know now that we’ll kiss, she’ll reciprocate, but then she’ll push me away. I’m not an idiot. I’ll ruin any chances I have if I nudge her in my direction too soon. So I wrap my fingers around the back of her neck and press my lips to her forehead. “Goodnight, Elle.”
Seeming to realise her position between me and the door, she squeezes free and hurries away. I take this moment to breathe and savour the memory of her breasts brushing against my chest. I kind of wish I got my room for the night so I can relieve myself. There’s no way at all that I’m getting any sleep whilst she lies directly above me, especially not when I have an erection that could hold up a building.
Fuck.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Eloise
Judith seems to have taken to the doll better than we could have even imagined, though I’m a bit nervous about how a few of the other patients around us seem to be eyeing it too. I don’t want it to cause a fuss. The home has said that they may buy a few themselves for the rest of the room, but that won’t happen today.
“NO!” A man yells from his spot on the couch. “I won’t look after your baby for you!”
Isaac starts to laugh. I pat the old guy on the shoulder and return my attention to Judith. She’s looking tired today and her skin has a yellow tone to it.
“That’s it,” I say softly as Judith brings the doll up to her lips and kisses its smooth plastic forehead.
“Isaac,” she says and rocks the doll.
Tears spring to my eyes. I can’t believe it has worked and something other than spoons now has her attention.
“Oh dear, baby. Oh no, baby,” she coos when the doll begins to cry. “He doesn’t like his drink.” We all stop her as she tries to feed the baby her tea. I hand her the plastic bottle and watch as she carefully and gently places the tip into the mouth.
John clears his throat and wipes his eyes on a napkin. Seeing him cry makes me want to cry.
“She’s so frail,” he comments quietly and places his hand on his wife’s knee. She doesn’t even notice; she’s too busy rocking her baby. “Look, her knee just fits in my hand.”
I take a deep breath to stop the burning in my eyes and try to swallow the lump lodged in my throat.
He is right though; she’s deteriorating. She looks gaunt and frail. She isn’t eating, sleeping or going to the bathroom frequently enough.
The thought of losing her completely is too much to take.
Isaac stands and walks away without looking back. I don’t know what to do. I’m torn between the two of them. Do I race after him? Do I stay with John?
“Isaac,” Judith coos, as if answering my internal question.
I squeeze John’s shoulder as I pass, offering him just a tiny amount of silent support in order to look after his son.
Racing past the patients and nurses, I find Isaac in his mum’s room sitting on the bed. His head is slumped forward over his knees where his arms rest.
I lean against the door frame and let him have his private moment.
“How am I going to cope when she dies?” His voice pierces the silence. I step into the room. My fingers twitch as they ache to reach out and touch his hair. I want to play with his hair and stroke his neck as a way to comfort him, but I feel like it wouldn’t be appropriate. “I’ve never had much family. I’ve never lost anybody like that.”
“You’ll just have to trust us to look after you.” Even though we’re divorced and not exactly friends, I’m hardly going to ditch him when he needs me. That’s assuming he will need me.
He doesn’t say anything and I contemplate comforting him with my hands, but change my mind and take a step backwards instead.
“Can one of you do me a favour and go to my office at the school?” John’s voice appears from behind us so suddenly that we both jump. “I need to pick up my briefcase and there’s a letter in the drawer that requires my urgent attention. I don’t want to leave my wife today.”
“I’ll go,” I volunteer and look to Isaac.
“I’ll come with you,” he says, his face now a blank mask.
“No, you stay with your mum. It won’t take me long. I’ll pick something up for lunch on the way home.” John than
ks me and hands me the keys. I kiss him on the cheek and then Isaac, though with Isaac I let my lips linger for a long moment. I shouldn’t, but I can’t resist. He sighs, happy to receive my touch, and now I wish I could go back in time and comfort him the way I wanted to.
This isn’t about getting back together or teasing the other, this is about one human needing the contact of another. Now I feel selfish and I can’t stop thinking about it. The image of Judith’s frail, skinny body remains in my mind the entire journey to the school. I can’t shake it.
She’s going to die soon and we all know it. The thing we don’t know is when. That’s the most frightening thing of all.
The school is empty save for some kind of dance club going on in the hall.
This reminds me of the night of the wedding. Hayley still hasn’t forgiven me for leaving, even though she left five minutes after I did.
The thought of Isaac’s hands all over Jocelyn sends a rage bubbling through me of the likes of which I’ve never experienced before. Fortunately my self-control kicks in before I go to his old classroom and set it on fire.
The key unlocks the receptionists’ office with ease. I cut through and then unlock the Head teacher’s office. It’s been a long time since I was in this part of the office too. It’s strange.
The office smells like John; it holds a low note of his spicy aftershave that I’ve only ever scented from him. It brings me comfort.
I smile and step into the room, making sure to close the door behind me so as to keep that lovely scent inside. The room is very neat and clean. I spot his briefcase immediately leaning against the side of his desk, but my main focus is the letter he needs from his desk drawer.
He has six drawers. He didn’t mention which drawer.
I check the first one but find nothing other than pencils, pens, erasers, sticky notes and chewing gum. Which is banned from school, may I add.
In the second drawer there is a journal, a tablet and an empty glasses case. No letter though.
Distinction: The Distraction Trilogy #3 Page 22