Anything but Vanilla(61)

‘And miss out on a tip?’

He leaned into a kiss, then flung his legs over the bed, pulled on his shorts and grabbed his wallet.

For a moment she lay back against the pillow, waiting for him to return. When he didn’t immediately return, she panicked. This was all new to her. He was probably waiting for her to come down.

She scrambled out of bed, grabbed a handful of clothes and ran for the bathroom, splashed cold water on her face, scrambled into a T-shirt and jeans.

When she returned to the bedroom to drag a brush through her hair Alexander was lying back against the pillows. Shorts unbuttoned at the waist, ankles crossed, a pizza box unopened on his lap.

‘You’re overdressed,’ he said.

‘I get indigestion if I eat in bed,’ she said. Which was true. ‘And the dogs need walking.’ Also true.

‘And your family could come home any time.’

‘I hadn’t actually thought about that, but, yes, I don’t suppose Gran will want to stay out late.’

‘Okay.’ He was on his feet in one fluid movement. ‘We’ll eat, we’ll walk and then...’ he said, taking her hand and heading for the stairs.

‘And then?’

‘And then,’ he said, ‘I’ll kiss you goodnight and go home.’ He glanced at her. ‘We wouldn’t want the neighbours gossiping.’

‘Wouldn’t we?’

Disappointment rippled through Sorrel. Right now she didn’t care a hoot what the neighbours thought. Apparently she was a lot more like her mother than she’d realised.

She’d always thought she was strong, self-reliant, independent, but that wasn’t true. She was still leaning on Graeme instead of stepping out on her own; allowing him to dictate the pace at which her business grew instead of relying on her instincts. Playing safe with both her heart and her head.

Even now, when she’d momentarily broken out of her shell, she’d ducked straight back inside it like a snail the minute she wasn’t sure...

She should have been braver, waited until Alexander came back to her, and now he thought...

Actually, she didn’t know what he thought.

‘And we do have an early start in the morning,’ he said.

‘We do?’

‘If we’re going to Wales to hunt Ria down, we need to make an early start.’

‘You’re coming with me?’

‘No, you’re coming with me.’ They had reached the bottom of the stairs and he stopped as if something had just occurred to him. ‘Of course, if you came home with me tonight, it would save time in the morning.’

‘Stay with you?’ In his grace and favour apartment in the gothic mansion?

‘My fridge is better stocked and we won’t have to keep the noise down.’ He lifted his shoulders in one of those barely perceptible shrugs. They lived up to their billing and she wanted to run her hands along them, her cheek, her mouth...

‘What noise?’

‘You’re a bit of a screamer.’

‘I’m not!’

He rolled his eyes.

She’d screamed? She caught a glimpse of herself in the hall mirror and discovered that she was grinning.

‘Maybe your flat would be best,’ she said. ‘On the time front, I mean. You’re a lot closer to the motorway.’

‘Good point.’

‘And you’re right—if your car was parked outside all night it would be all over the village by breakfast time.’

‘I thought you didn’t care.’

‘I don’t,’ she said, but Graeme should hear it from her, not from his cleaner. ‘But then there’s the screaming.’

* * *

‘Why didn’t your grandmother just return the ring and send your grandfather packing?’

‘You know how it is,’ Sorrel said, concentrating on scooping a string of cheese into her mouth.

They’d taken the pizza into the garden and were lying on the grass. She was aching in new places, a little sore, but it was a pleasant ache and she was feeling a deep down confidence that was entirely new.

Now Alexander had asked about her grandmother, prodding at an old wound, wanting to know why she’d gone ahead with the wedding, when his Julia had not.

‘No, tell me.’

She stared up at the sky, following the movement of a small fluffy cloud, anything rather than look at him, knowing that he was thinking about another woman.