Good Enough

by PH Morris

  At the same time, he reached for my hand and held it in his. He pulled it towards him, and I looked up at him. When he spoke it was a whisper, “You said you had come out of a long-term relationship, did that breakup really hurt you, Mel?”

  I tried to pull my hand away, but he held it and responded quickly, “I’m sorry, Mel; I didn’t mean to pry but, growing up with twin sisters, I’ve seen that look before, and I know you are putting up some barrier to protect yourself. I’ll shut up now.”

  God, this guy was annoyingly perceptive. “Can’t get anything past you, can I?” I said, repeating his words back him. Might as well let him know what he’s letting himself in for, and then he can run for the hills, or in his case the Highlands. “Yes it was a pretty bad break up,” I offered.

  “Well, he should have fought harder to keep you,” he said with hardness to his voice.

  I scoffed a little, in an unladylike fashion. “He finished with me,” I said in barely a whisper.

  He muttered something like a swear word under his breath, but more audibly said, “Well, the guy was a lunatic for letting you go.”

  There was a huge pause, and the silence stretched on, and he just held my hand, and I felt my hand relax in his warm grasp.

  “I’m not like that, Mel,” he said quietly but with a firmness that was contradictory to the volume. “I know you have no reason to believe me,” he continued, “but let’s take it slow. I want to see you again, but only if you want to. I won’t put any pressure on you. But it feels like fate, seeing you again today.”

  He seemed genuine. “I would like to see you again too,” I agreed, and I looked up at him, and he leaned forward to kiss me gently on the cheek, waiting to see my reaction, so, heart racing, I turned my face towards him and closed my eyes. He placed a feather-like kiss on my lips. He continued to kiss me gently, and with my free hand I reached up to touch his cheek. I could feel his five o’clock shadow, scratchy against my palm. I could feel him smile against my lips.

  “What?” I said.

  He pulled back, looked into my eyes and smiled softly. “Nothing, I wondered all night what kissing you would be like, and it was better than expected.”

  Suddenly I felt self-conscious, and I looked down.

  “Don’t look away,” he insisted, and dropped his head to catch my eyeline again. “Your eyes change colour and I like the colour they are now. You are beautiful, Melissa.”

  I looked up at him. Right back at you, Mister, I was thinking. “Like I said earlier, I’m not used to compliments,” I offered.

  He smiled sadly. “Well, you had better get used to it. I don’t lie, Melissa; when I say something, I mean it.”

  This guy was too good to be true. My phone chirped an incoming call, and he looked with a frown at the offending sound coming from my bag in the footwell.

  “I should get that,” I sighed. “It’s probably Kate, making sure you haven’t kidnapped me, you know with you being an axe murderer.”

  “Oh yes, the axe murderer,” he muttered.

  I reached down and rummaged in my bag, but the phone stopped ringing as I got to it. A text followed within thirty seconds: ‘You had better text me and let me know how you got on with Mr Rugged, or I swear I will call your mum.’

  Alistair read it over my shoulder in the dim light of the car. “Mr Rugged?” he questioned.

  “Yeah, that was kind of our nickname for you in Edinburgh; you were all rough with longer hair and a beard,” I explained.

  He smiled and rubbed his cheek absentmindedly. “Do you want to text her back?”

  “I had better go in, it’s getting late, and I have a date with the taxi driver tomorrow,” I teased.

  “Lucky guy,” Alistair chuckled. “What time do you fly?”

  “I fly at twelve, so I only need to be there at eleven because I already checked in and I only have hand luggage,” I explained. “You can join me for breakfast if you want.” The words were out my mouth before I realised the connotation. “I mean, you can come here in the morning and join me for breakfast. I didn’t mean stay over or anything…Oh god.”

  He chuckled lightly, “I know what you meant, Mel, and yes, I would love to join you for breakfast. You’re flying out tomorrow, and I want to see you as much as I can before you head off. 8am okay?”

  Thankfully, he couldn’t see me blush. “8am is good,” I said, and grabbed the door handle and exited the car.

  He was out and round the side quickly. “I’ll walk you to the door,” he said in explanation, and I laughed when I looked at the less than three metre walk to the hotel main entrance.

  He laced his fingers through mine, and we walked in silence slowly. Before we reached the entrance, he pulled me towards him and into a shadowed where the light from the entrance didn’t reach. As he pulled me towards him, I braced my hands against his biceps; he held my face with both his hands and kissed me again, firstly softly as he had in the car, and then with greater urgency. I loved how he kissed; his lips were soft and tender in contrast to his robust body. I felt my knees weaken – wow, this guy could kiss – and he broke free and kissed me softly on the side of my mouth and trailed kisses to my neck. He was breathing hard as he kissed my neck, and I was pleased that he seemed to be as affected as I. He pulled back, and I rested my forehead on his chest, while he put his chin lightly on the top of my head.

  I was working hard to have him think I wasn’t a knicker-less, see-through-dress-wearing tart; so, as much as I wanted to see where this went, I needed to maintain some control. “If I don’t go in now, I might do something I won’t regret.” I whispered.

  He led me out of the shadow and towards the light. I stood onto the step, and I was now a little closer to his height. “Before you go, can I get your mobile number?” I felt bold enough to ask. I held my hand out, and he handed me his mobile, I quickly added my number and dialled myself. My mobile rang in my bag. I gave him back his phone and smiled at him.

  “See you tomorrow,” he whispered, and kissed me gently on the cheek. He kept hold of my hand as he stepped away, neither of us wanting to let go. Eventually, the distance was so great, and he had to let go, I wrapped my arms around myself to protect me from the cold. He walked back to his car, and his face was illuminated as he opened the door and stepped in. He held up his hand to wave bye, and the headlights of the car swept across the car park as he turned around and smiled sweetly as he drove away. I turned and walked through the door and caught a glimpse of my reflection; I was a right sap – I had the biggest smile plastered on my face.

  Luckily, I didn’t see another soul as I almost floated upstairs, and my phone was beeping with threats from Kat. As I closed the door to my room, I dialled her number.

  She picked up immediately and barked at me, “I swear to god, Mel, I am going to kill you if you don’t spill the beans.”

  I blew out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Kat, it was lovely: we had a meal and a few drinks, and he wants to see me again. He said he had been thinking about me since Edinburgh, and we kissed, and he’s coming over for breakfast and then running me to the airport.”

  “Oh my god, Mel, you like him?” she squealed.

  “Yes, I do, but I want to take it slowly, you know?” I trailed off; Kate knew me better than anyone.

  I fell backwards onto the bed, kicked my shoes off and gave Kate a blow by blow account of the evening. By the end of it, she was gushing.

  “Oh, Mel, I am so happy for you, and what are the odds of seeing that guy again? It’s fate, like proper fate.”

  I laughed at her excitement and, after a few more giggles and her asking me inappropriate questions about how big his feet were, and another twenty minutes of silly comments, finally she put the phone down, and I brushed my teeth and got into bed.

  My usual difficulty sleeping in a different bed was made a whole lot worse by my running through the
events of the evening. So much for a work, work, work thing. I don’t know what time I finally nodded off, but my one of three alarms woke me for a change, and I awoke clueless to where I was. As I came to, I stretched out in the big bed, reaching for the cold side, wondering if the bed would be cold the next time I spent time with Alistair, and I wasn’t talking about breakfast.

  I jumped out of bed, tied up my hair and wrapped a hugely unattractive shower cap over my head. That’s a sight he didn’t need to see. Shower caps for someone with my hair were a necessary evil and did a job that meant I didn’t have to spend most of my adult life constantly drying and straightening the frizzy mess.

  I put ‘Feeling Good’ on my phone, and the dulcet tones of Nina Simone reverberated around the bathroom, with beautiful acoustics that made even my voice passable. I loved fluffy hotel towels and resisted the temptation to squirrel some away.

  It was 7am, and I had just sixty minutes to wait until I saw him again. It was a Friday… wait… wouldn’t he need to be in work? How was he getting away with being late for work? Though he was the heir apparent, so I guess he could do what he wanted. OMG, I’m dating the boss’s son! No, wait, he’s nothing to do with my company, and I was a free agent, so to hell with it. But shit, shit, shit!

  I packed my bag quickly, which wasn’t difficult because there wasn’t much, and dressed in the only casual stuff I had left, plus the jeans I’d had on last night. I wouldn’t have worn them because I wasn’t planning on going out, but I had no other clothes, so what’s a girl to do. Oh, there I was again trying too hard for a guy. If he didn’t like it, well, he could shove it up his arse.

  I quick application of my usual day make-up, but an extra lot of mascara, and I looked presentable. It was still only 7.30am, and I started doing a quick check under the bed and around the bathroom, like I always did, to make sure that nothing had got away from me. As I was on my hands and knees, my phone buzzed and I reached for it, expecting a message from Kat, but in this instance, it was from a mobile I didn’t recognise.

  ‘Morning, hope you slept well. Let me know when you are ready. I am my annoyingly early self but couldn’t wait to see you, so I am waiting downstairs for you. Don’t rush, but hurry, Mr Rugged.’ He finished it with a picture of a racing car and then a smiley face with its tongue hanging out.

  I fired a quick message back, undid it, redid it and realised that he could see that I was typing, so it was getting a bit daft, so I just sent: ‘Dear Mr R, morning to you too. I’ll be down in 5, Mel x.’

  I pressed send before I realised I’d put a kiss on the end of the text – why did I do that? I remember I once texted the plumber and accidentally put an x on the end of the message.

  I quickly did a sweep of the room, checked myself in the mirror and ran my fingers through my hair. I hoped for the best and headed to the top of the stairs; as I turned the corner, he was standing in the lobby, looking at his phone. He must have noticed me in his peripheral vision as he looked up at me almost immediately and smiled broadly. He was wearing dark chino-type trousers rather than more formal suit pants, coupled with a long-sleeved shirt with a pale grey check on it, which was tucked in casually at the waist, and he had a black belt with a simple buckle. The shirt was buttoned up apart from the top two buttons. He was clean-shaven, and I wondered if his skin was super soft.

  As I reached the bottom of the staircase, he stepped towards me and leaned in to kiss me on each cheek.

  “Good morning,” he whispered in my ear, and his breath sent shivers down my spine. He smelled nice, spicy and sweet.

  “You smell nice,” I commented, and he leaned away from me and smiled.

  “Are you hungry?” He had a velvet voice and a salacious smile, and I could feel my cheeks burn, and he added, “For breakfast.”

  I turned away before I embarrassed myself further and walked ahead of him towards the dining room. Rosie was already escorting a couple to their table, so we just hung back near the door and waited for her return.

  “Good morning, Miss Cartwright.” Her smile was professional; the twinkle in her eye, however, was mischievous; and she turned to Alistair and, somehow maintaining her decorum, asked, “Will you be joining us for breakfast, sir?”

  “Yes, please, a table for two.”

  “Right this way.” She crossed my name out on the list, and we quietly followed her. I looked sideways at Alistair, as even in the short time I had got to know him I knew he was usually more verbose and, as I glanced, I saw that he had a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He then looked at me and winked.

  God, this guy was cute and annoying. I smiled back and almost bumped into the back of Rosie, but she stepped out of my way, thankfully.

  We sat opposite each other, which I did not know what Kat would think of, but I was going to stop with the guessing on the table seating etiquette.

  The server arrived and took the order of coffee for both of us, which made me smile like a soft teenager, ‘Ooh, we both like coffee’. I needed to stop being so pathetic.

  “So”, he started, “did you sleep okay last night?”

  The coffee pots materialised, with a rack of toast.

  “I don’t sleep when I’m away, it’s either the lift opening and closing, or people in the corridors with trolleys going up and down all night,” I explained.

  He then laughed out loud, a throaty laugh, and I thought I had said one of my usual Mel-isms, so I asked him, “What did I say?”

  “You said trolleys were going up and down all night,” he explained, and he was still chuckling.

  My mind was ticking over, as I knew that when I stayed in hotels there was always someone ordering room service at all hours, and you didn’t get any sleep as the porters were delivering through the night…Then it hit me…trolleys, as in another word for trousers.

  Now it was my time to laugh. “Oh no, I didn’t mean trolleys,” and I gestured with my hands at either side of my hips, moving them up and down, “I meant trolleys,” and put my hands in front of me as if pushing a trolley.

  We were both chuckling when the server returned to the table, he saw the hysteria and quietly walked away. We had also drawn the attention of a number of diners, but they didn’t seem offended by the noise.

  Eventually, we stopped, and he smiled broadly, “Mel, you are hilarious.”

  I took a bite of the toast triangle I had buttered and shrugged, “Yep, that’s me, a laugh a minute.”

  We ordered our breakfasts and chatted about the hotel and its setting. I told him about the river and how lovely the rooms were, and all too soon the breakfast was finished, the plates cleared.

  He looked at his watch, and I did the same. “You said you checked in already?” he enquired.

  “Yeah, I did, why?”

  “Okay, good, that gives us about thirty minutes before we need to leave. It’s a nice morning so why don’t you go and get your bag from your room and check out, and I will pay for my breakfast and meet you at the car; we will have a bit of time to walk down to the river.”

  “Oh, okay,” I replied, “sounds like a plan. See you in five?”

  “Yeah,” he smiled, “hurry but don’t rush.”

  I walked away grinning, and as I got to the exit of the dining room I bumped into Rosie.

  “Miss Cartwright.” She was grinning too.

  “Hi Rosie,” I replied.

  I was then off up the stairs, not running but on my tiptoes, up to the first floor. My bag was pretty much packed, so I just brushed my teeth again, stowed the final toiletries and made sure I had the right things in my handbag and carry-on bag. My laptop was tucked away in the carry-on so, with a glance around the room, I was out the door in probably four minutes flat. At the reception, I deposited my key card in the little slot cut in the desk. Morag was busy sorting out a query with a client, and she caught my eye, and I smiled.

 
With my jacket over my arm and my bags in tow, I was off outside into the hazy morning sunshine. Alistair was leaning casually on the side of the Jeep, which looked like it had been washed. Everything seemed to scrub up well. He pushed himself away from the car and walked towards me with long strides.

  “You got everything?” he enquired and took the carry-on bag from me. He opened the back door and popped the case on the seat. “Do you want to put your coat in the car or wear it?”

  “I’ll wear it, but I can put my bag in the car, so I don’t have to carry it.” I grasped the straps in one hand, and he held out his hand and took it from me. It was such a relaxed gesture; something Mark would never do. He would never hold my bag for me.

  “Lead the way,” he remarked, and I quickly put on my jacket before he could help me with it and walked on the little gravel path around the side, knowing now that any diners looking out of the windows would see us. He caught up to me easily and pushed his hands in his pockets.

  “Mel, I had a great time, both last night and this morning, and I don’t get the impression that you are quiet or reserved… in a nice way,” he quickly added. I stopped walking and turned towards him. I could hear the river somewhere in the distance, and he continued, “But if you’re not really into me in that way then I will understand; it’s just that you sometimes have a forlorn look on your face and your eyes change colour, and you look sad. I loved kissing you last night, and I wasn’t bullshitting you when I said I had thought about you since Edinburgh. If you don’t want to see me again then I won’t push it, and I am not trying to frighten you off, but I want to see you again.”

  He took a small, tentative step towards me and gently tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. I didn’t know what to say. I did like him, but I found it hard to say the right words. So, I did a non-verbal thing, and I stepped towards him, so our bodies were just about touching. I looked up at him, and he brought his lips down against mine and kissed me. I kissed him back. I kissed him more roughly, trying to convey a message in the kiss and put my hands around his neck and pulled him towards me; he responded, holding my face in his hands like a gardener might hold a delicate rose. After a few minutes, he pulled back and rested his forehead on mine.