by Trish Morey
‘It was amazing,’ Sophie said, her hand buried in oven gloves and that cute little frill-edged pinny stretched tight over her bump again. She was wearing a sleeveless shift beneath so her lower legs were bare, and her toes winked glossy red at him from inside her sandals. ‘We had so much fun, and Nan was so cool, she is such an expert at this. We even had time to give each other a pedicure in between. You can give me a hand getting the rest of them out.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘There’s more?’
‘That’s only the first batch. The second batch just finished.’
He went to peek over her shoulder as she lifted the lid from the steriliser on the stove. ‘Sure you’re not overdoing it?’
‘I had a nap. I only just woke up before you came in. Here, take these and give me a hand.’ She passed him the tongs for removing the jars and spread out some tea towels to put the steaming hot bottles on. He helped her with the unit on the stove and then they tackled the one Nan Faraday had him set up outside, setting the bottles to cool on the bench with the others. Sophie was delighted with each and every one, cooing with pleasure as each bottle emerged.
‘They look like Christmas baubles,’ she said, her smile wide. ‘Don’t they look wonderful?’ And Nick thought, yes, she does.
There was something different about her today. He’d walked inside and she’d been lit up like someone had flicked a switch, her face animated and her eyes bright. She was luminescent, glowing brighter than the pears in the jars. Even her toes looked cheerful.
And in that little frilly pinny, in the middle of his kitchen with a bottling outfit that was older than he was and dozens of bottles of preserved fruit, she looked like she’d just stepped out of the nineteen fifties.
She looked irresistible.
Scrap that, she was irresistible.
She looked up at him, still smiling, so supremely happy with herself and her world that she was almost vibrating with joy. Until a tiny frown marred her smile. ‘What?’
‘You’re beautiful.’
She blinked. ‘What?’
‘I said, you’re beautiful.’
‘Oh.’
He put his hand to the spot where her neck met her shoulders, saw her lean into his touch, and knew he wasn’t mistaken. ‘And I would very much like to kiss you.’
Her eyes flared, focusing on his lips while the pink tip of her tongue found hers, as he curved his fingers and drew her closer.
She went willingly, the one, tiny solitary voice in the back of her mind telling her this was not a good idea, drowned out in the thumping beat of her heart insisting it was the best idea ever. She sighed when her lips met his, the press of his mouth so gentle, so exquisitely tender that a single tear squeezed from her eye. And when they moved over hers, their warm breath intermingling, it was with that same, magical delicacy.
It was Sophie who pressed for more. Sophie who needed more and wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her aching breasts against his chest, never more conscious of her bump as she squeezed herself over it in her bid to get closer. It was Sophie who parted her lips and invited him to deepen the kiss, and welcomed him when he did.
And then her hands were in his hair and their tongues tangled and duelled, and his heated breath mixed with hers until she felt she was burning up with desire.
Still it wasn’t enough. She took his hand and brought it to her breast and he growled, low in this throat, as his fingers squeezed her flesh. She arched against him as best she could, riding a wave of desire so strong there was no fighting it.
It was reckless and all kinds of madness, but it didn’t matter in the least because she was here, now, feeling sensations she’d tried to ignore, and there was no ignoring it anymore because she needed this, so badly. She needed him.
‘Make love to me,’ she whispered.
He broke the kiss, his hands cupping her face. ‘Is it safe?’ he said, interspersing his words with butterfly kisses to her eyes and nose and mouth. ‘Are you allowed?’
Nothing she’d read or been told said that she couldn’t make love. True, her blood pressure might be higher than desired, but she knew one thing. ‘I’ll explode right here and now if you don’t.’
‘Hell no,’ he said, swinging her into his arms as if she weighed nothing, thrilling her with his brute strength. ‘We don’t want that.’
He undressed her like she was made of glass. Slowly, reverently, he removed her sandals, kissing each painted toe and the inside of her ankles, before he pulled the bow that tied her apron and peeled it away.
And it was torture and joy in equal measure. She felt cherished as he slid the zipper down on her loose shift dress and glided it over her shoulders until she lay there in just her underwear, and he sat back and drank her in with his eyes. Worshipped.
Then even her underwear was gone, and she lay naked and fully exposed before him. He reached out a hand and palmed her bump, tracing the curve, his touch so tender but unleashing fireworks under her skin, before he leaned down and pressed his lips to her tummy and each dark-peaked nipple. ‘Beautiful,’ he said, before his mouth once again claimed hers as he undid his buttons and dispensed with his shirt.
‘I should have had a shower,’ he said between kisses.
‘You smell amazing,’ she countered, because he did. He smelled of hard work and heat and that increasingly familiar scent that was all his own, and she didn’t want him going anywhere.
He stood to kick off his trousers and it was her turn to worship. He was magnificent. Broad-shouldered, lean and fit from a lifetime of working outdoors, his erection standing proud, and a sizzle of anticipation bloomed in her veins.
Skin against skin. There was no feeling like it in the world, Sophie vaguely registered as he joined her naked on the bed, the slide of his hand on her thigh, the press of her nipples against his chest, the rough of his whiskered jaw on her skin. Textures leading to sensations, building layer upon delicious layer. He took his own sweet time reacquainting himself with her body, but Sophie didn’t mind. She wasn’t going anywhere and there was no need to rush. She was floating on a fog of sensual pleasure.
Except when he turned her on her side away from him and slid his hand under the curve of her butt cheek and she felt the press of him at her core, she knew it was time. ‘Tell me if I hurt you,’ he said, as his lips and teeth worked magic on her neck, his hot breath stroking her skin, stoking the fire inside.
So gently, so tenderly he entered her. Filling her, until he was seated deep inside, and she gasped as stars burst behind her eyelids.
‘Are you okay?’
‘You feel amazing.’
She felt his smile as he pressed his lips to her shoulder and started to move. And she was lost in the slide and the friction as pleasure built upon pleasure, until she was cast adrift on a stormy sea that matched the eyes of the man she loved.
Her heart gave a jolt and she snapped her eyes open, a sudden panic vanquishing the humming goodness of her body coming down from the heights he’d taken her to.
Did she love him? Had she let the thing she most feared happen? Or was she spinning castles in the air the way she always did? But this was nothing like she’d imagined she’d felt before. This was bigger.
He stirred behind her and pressed his lips to her back, his hand stroking her belly.
‘Okay?’ he asked dozily.
She let herself relax against the warm body of the man behind her. This man was the father of her babies and he wanted her in his bed. This was not the same thing she’d felt with any man ever before. This was way better. This was real.
60
Beth
Beth climbed into the front seat of the ambulance, still stewing over an argument she’d had with Siena this morning. God, but the girl was developing an attitude, she was having the biggest sulk about something. ‘What have we got?’
Her colleague turned on the siren and flashing lights, and slid the vehicle into a space someone made for them, and they were off, the road befor
e them clearing as cars shifted sideways. ‘Guy fallen from a tree. Head injuries and suspected fractures, sounds pretty serious. The rapid response car’s already on its way.’
Beth nodded as the car cautiously ran a red light and swept out of the city and up Magill Road towards the hills. ‘Where did it happen?’
‘Up in the hills near Ashton.’ He turned to her momentarily and rattled off an address. ‘Don’t you live up that way somewhere?’
Beth was already on the phone to her brother, relieved to hear his voice when he answered. Not Dan, then, she thought after a couple of words to explain, before pocketing her phone. But then, even though she couldn’t pick the address, it could be any one of the people she knew from up that way.
She bit down on her lip as the ambulance screamed its way along the road, and headed into the cleft in the hills. Beth navigated, knowing the roads better than the GPS, instructing the driver to take a dirt road she knew would be quicker than the main one.
Barely fifteen minutes after leaving the base, they came upon the accident site with the SPRINT vehicle parked nearby, a couple of onlookers looking concerned.
‘This is it,’ she said, getting ready to jump out.
They pulled up in a spray of gravel and Beth was out. Their patient was lying awkwardly on the ground, a massive tree branch beside him, amidst a tangle of ropes and tackle that had clearly come down with him. The rapid responder hovered over the man, administering emergency aid. Something about the fallen form and the size of the patient, and the shaggy hair sticking out from under the strap of the goggles that had twisted around his neck, looked startlingly familiar.
And suddenly it hit her.
‘Harry!’ she screamed, breaking into a run and hurling herself down at his side. There was blood pooling beneath his head, so much blood, and one arm was twisted at a funny angle.
The rapid responder was too busy to look up. ‘You know him?’
She sniffed. ‘Harry Simpson. Aged around thirty-five or so. Harry,’ she shouted. ‘Harry! Oh God, don’t you dare die on me. Don’t you dare die on me. I love you!’
Harry’s eyelids fluttered a moment, and Beth swore he was looking at her, trying to focus while his lips soundlessly mouthed her name.
‘I love you!’ she said again, before his eyes rolled back in his head and he slipped into unconsciousness. ‘Harry!’
‘We have to intubate him,’ her partner said, his hand on her shoulders, edging her aside.
Beth let herself be shunted away, because she knew she was probably worse than useless, right now. She trembled with shock as the past and present collided.
The nightmare was happening all over again. She was going to lose the man she loved. And this time she hadn’t even had a chance to tell him properly before it happened.
‘Please don’t die,’ she willed him, her hands clenched together as her colleagues worked furiously on him. ‘Please, Harry, please God, please don’t die!’
Beth sat shivering in the starkly furnished waiting room, the harsh fluorescent lighting draining the room of any warmth, when Hannah brought Sophie to sit with her.
‘I thought there must be something going on between you and Harry,’ Hannah said as her sisters sat down either side of her.
Beth was hunched over on the seat, her head in her hands. ‘Nothing was going on.’
‘Clearly something was.’
‘Go easy on her,’ chided Sophie, her hand rubbing circles on Beth’s back, her big belly jutting against her.
‘Otherwise, why else would we all be here tonight?’
‘He’s a friend,’ Beth said, her voice numb. ‘He’s been helping me out from time to time, that’s all.’ Because even she couldn’t believe the admission she’d made at Harry’s side. Had he heard her? Would he remember? Oh God.
‘Just a friend and yet we all end up here tonight doing the vigil thing with you. Does that sound right?’
‘Han!’
Her eldest sister was unrepentant, her tone suddenly strident. ‘Sorry but no. Why can’t you admit you have feelings for someone?’
‘He’s a friend, that’s all!’
‘Is it because of what happened to Joe? You have to let go of the past, Beth, or you’ll never move on.’
‘Stop it,’ said Sophie. ‘Can’t you see you’re hurting her?’
‘Joe’s gone, Beth,’ Hannah persisted, her hand squeezing Beth’s leg. ‘You’re allowed to move on. You’re allowed to love somebody else. That’s what Joe would want.’
‘No!’ Beth sat up bolt upright so quickly, both sisters had to jump away. ‘Why should I be happy? Why should I be allowed to fall in love again?’
‘But, Beth,’ Hannah reasoned, ‘he was speeding and his bike hit black ice. It wasn’t your fault.’
‘Yes, it damned well was.’ And she crumpled down again as she burst into tears, the painful secret she’d held for so long now threatening to tear her apart.
‘No,’ her sisters both said above her, and she knew they were trying to help, but they were wrong.
They weren’t there.
They didn’t know.
‘We argued.’ Beth’s voice was fractured and broken, sounding even to herself like it was coming from a long way away. ‘I can’t even remember what it was about, something pathetic, something that didn’t matter, but Joe always had to win, and this time I wouldn’t give in and he got angrier and angrier. And in the end, I told him he could shove his wedding ring. I told him it was over. I told him to piss off and never come back.’ She gulped in air, before descending back into tears. ‘And he didn’t,’ she wailed. ‘He never came back.’
‘Oh, Beth,’ her sisters chorused as they leaned over to hug her tight, rocking together to comfort her. ‘Oh, Beth.’
They stayed that way for what must have been minutes, while her tears subsided and her breathing slowed. ‘And the hardest part of all is I didn’t mean it,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean any of it. I was just sick of him always having to get his way. I just didn’t want him to win for once.’
‘We know,’ Hannah said softly, pressing her lips to Beth’s hair. ‘We know how much you two loved each other. You didn’t put that ice there and you didn’t make him speed. He chose to do that.’
‘Yes,’ echoed Sophie. ‘You have to stop blaming yourself.’
But could she after all this time? Beth sat up, wiping her tear-stricken face with her hands, and feeling strangely lighter now that she’d finally confessed what she’d never been able to tell anyone. Because in her head she knew what her sisters were saying was right. But she’d clung onto the truth for so long, she didn’t know if she could let her heart believe it.
The door swung open. ‘Ms Faraday? Beth?’ said a white-coated doctor, her expression concerned.
All three sisters looked up. ‘How is he?’ whispered Beth. ‘Is he going to be okay?’
The doctor gave a weary smile. ‘He’s had a major blow to the head, and he’s fractured his arm badly, but the scans are all good, so yes, he’s going to be okay.’
Beth felt herself slump with relief. ‘He’s asked to see you.’ She glanced at the other women. ‘Just one visitor, if you don’t mind, and keep it brief. Harry needs to rest.’
Beth smiled and squeezed her sisters’ hands. ‘We’ll wait for you,’ said Sophie.
The doctor showed her to a small room, made smaller by the myriad bleeping machines and the bulk on the bed in between them all that was Harry. Beth squeezed her way to the head of the bed.
One of Harry’s arms was shrouded in plaster, his other hand rising and falling with his chest. His eyes were closed and there was a big bandage around his head. She placed one hand over his, careful of the IV, and said, ‘Harry.’
His eyelids flickered open, widening when they saw her.
‘Beth,’ he whispered roughly, and even that sounded like a struggle.
‘Don’t talk,’ she said. ‘I’m just relieved you’re okay. I was so afraid.’
He smiled
a wonky Hagrid smile up at her as best he could, and stroked the back of her hand with his big thumb, and Beth felt something breaking inside her. ‘I’m sorry I hurt you, Harry. I wouldn’t hurt you for all the world.’ She would have stalled there but for the twinkle in his eye that urged her on. ‘Because it seems I love you, Harry, you daft bastard, but if I ever catch you climbing a tree again, I swear I’ll kill you.’
He tried to laugh but he winced instead. ‘Ah, Beth,’ he whispered after the pain eased. ‘I was afraid I’d dreamed it. I love you.’
The doctor knocked softly on the door and poked her head inside. ‘Harry needs to rest now.’ Beth nodded before turning back to the patient on the bed. ‘You’ll have to come home with me so I can look after you,’ she said, ‘and make sure you don’t get yourself into any more trouble.’
He frowned. ‘Are you sure about this, Beth?’
She smiled down at him as she gently pressed her lips to his mouth. ‘I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.’
61
Hannah
Hannah called in to Beth’s house after work to drop off some eggs from Nan a couple of weeks later. ‘How’s the patient?’ she asked.
‘Doing well,’ said Beth with a smile. ‘The cast should come off in about four weeks. And thanks so much for these. I reckon our food bill has just about tripled.’
‘A man with a big appetite, eh?’
‘You could say that,’ she said, looking at her feet and coyly tucking the ends of her hair behind her ears, and Hannah saw the blush creep up over her sister’s cheeks. Good, at least one of them was getting some sex. It had been twenty sex-free days and nights so far for her, but who was counting? Her phone buzzed and she checked it before shoving it back in her pocket. The man couldn’t take no for an answer.
‘You look good,’ Hannah said, concentrating on her sister. ‘Happy.’
‘Yeah. I am. It took nearly losing Harry to realise I was allowed to be. Stupid hey, I could have lost a second chance and ended up even more miserable.’