Copper to Red (The Dillwyns' Stories) (6 page)

Poor Fred’s
leg had been a right state, the unforgiving hard stone floor helping to poke
the bone through his skin.  Tom had told her to look away when the ambulance
men had started to cut his trouser leg away, but to her regret, she hadn’t.  She
had just stared, unable to tear her gaze away, until Tom had grabbed the back
of her head and cradled it on his chest.  She felt amazingly calm in his
embrace, listening to his heartbeat, even though there was chaos going on
behind her.  At some point someone had shoved a whiskey into her hand and pushed
it to her lips to drink, the fierce sting reviving some sense back into her. 
Embarrassed she had pulled out of his embrace, it was Fred who needed
comforting not her.

The noise of
scrapping wood turned her around.  “Look Tom, thank you for your help, but I am
fine now, honestly.”  She noticed his eyes narrow as he studied her.

“No, you are
still a funny shade of green.  I’m stopping here with you until your parents
are back.”  He watched her mouth start to form a protest. “No arguments. 
Michael has gone home to tell my parents and to grab me some clothes, so
everyone knows where I am.  I’ll stay where Fred stayed, so there are no
problems there, and I can help behind the bar and with the delivery.”

Willow gave
a tired sigh, knowing that she did need the help with the pub; she really didn’t
want to bring her parents back if she didn’t have to.  “No, there is no
problem.” She replied quietly, although she had the uneasy feeling that
spending a couple of nights under the same roof with Tom wasn’t going to be as
easy going as it was with Fred.

~~~~

Willow was
glad it was bed time, after Fred’s accident, she had enough for one day.  The
glare from her bedroom lights were too much for her tired, grainy eyes so she
turned her lights off, just relying on the slight glow from the street light.  After
wiping off her make-up and taking out her hair band, Willow pulled on the
t-shirt that she slept in.  Her adrenalin had stopped pumping around her body
and now she felt shattered.  She couldn’t wait to clean her teeth and crawl
into her comfortable bed.   Yawning, she walked to the door, begrudging the
precious minutes she would have to spend in the bathroom when she could be
sleeping.

Tom pulled
open the bathroom door, his mind fully absorbed in Fred’s accident.  Even
though he didn’t particularly like the man, he wouldn’t wish that break on
anyone.  The creaking sound of the door forced him to look up.  Standing in the
bedroom door opposite was Willow.  Tom was taken by surprise, he hadn’t expected
her to be standing there.  He thought she was already asleep as there wasn’t
any light coming from under her bedroom door, he had paused and looked before
he had gone into the bathroom.  Her one hand was covering a yawn, while the
other was fluffing up her curly hair, which had been tied up all day.  Her arm
movements had dragged her t-shirt high up her thighs.  His gaze skimmed over
her, heating his blood.  She was nearly too much, those miles of legs.  The light
from the street lamps outside her window gave enough light to silhouetting her
body shape through the t-shirt. He watched her eyes skit over his chest, which
was naked, and saw her skin colour.  It pleased him that there was such an
obvious reaction from her.  Just an attraction on both sides he reminded
himself, play it cool. “Goodnight.” Tom said lazily, mischief playing in his
eyes. Tom nodded his head in departure to a gobsmacked Willow and left her
standing.  An amused smile played on his lips, he hoped she had as little sleep
as he knew he was going to get.

Oh gosh,
oh gosh, oh gosh!
 
Willow gulped as she watched Tom’s retreating back walk down the hallway to the
bedroom he was staying in.  Being so drained and sleepy, she hadn’t even
checked to see if he had finished in the bathroom.  She certainly wasn’t sleepy
now.  Suppressing a groan she realised that sometimes she missed having a
husband!  Perhaps having Tom helping in the pub was not such a good idea.

Willow clutched
the jar of pickled eggs to her chest, preoccupied with dreaming rather than
tidying ready for the delivery tomorrow. Tired, but feeling content, she
allowed herself to indulge in a little make-believe involving Tom.  She leaned
against the shelf at the back of the room, closed her eyes and took a lazy
breath in, feeling tranquil and content, even at the late hour.  Working with
Tom had been fun, the day had just flown by.  It had been much more… exciting…
than when Fred had been there, that was for sure.   Between the teasing, smiles
and flirting, Willow felt as though her protective shield was being chipped
away, he certainly had a way to make you think that you were the only woman
around, the only one that mattered.  She huffed and using her foot, pushed
herself away from the shelf, annoyed at herself.  Putting the jar on the shelf
with a bit of a jolt, Willow reminded herself of why someone like Tom would be
totally wrong for her.  Her fantasises would have to stay firmly in her brain.   She
made her way towards the front when she heard a noise.

“No!” 
Willow shouted, “Don’t let the door…” she heard it thud, “…close.” She mouthed
the rest while she heard the crash of the handle falling on the other side of,
the now, shut door.

“I’m sorry.  I
didn’t know the handle was broken.” Tom explained, the offending handle firmly
in his hand.  He gave an apologetic smile.

Willow let
out a breath and swallowed her irritation with him; he didn’t know that it was
broken.  Her father had been promising to fix it for months, but they all knew
it was faulty, so it wasn’t too much of a problem – until now. Willow wasn’t
really annoyed with him; just having indulged in such vivid fantasies involving
him, she was suddenly very uncomfortable being stuck in the store room with him. 
Irritation was an easier emotion to deal with at the moment than attraction.  Willow
fought hard to re-establish her defences, it was too dangerous to relax and
forget his reputation.

An amusement
danced in his eyes, “Well at least we won’t get hungry…”  Tom gestured to all
the crisps and snacks, trying to make light of the situation.  He himself
didn’t relish spending time in the cold, tiny storeroom, but there were worse
things in life.

Willow wrapped
her arms around her body and looked at his smiling face, her heart giving a
quick sprint.  She hugged her arms tighter knowing she was too keenly aware of
him as her entire body was responding to his nearness, sending prickles of
sensations down her body.  She forced her voice to be firm.   “Well we might
have to rely on them as there is no one around until tomorrow morning when the draymen
come with the delivery.”

Realisation
flittered over Tom’s features.  “Oh!  That is a problem then.”  He looked
around the stock room, it was going to be a very uncomfortable night.  He
hadn’t figured that they would have to spend the night in there, perhaps being
so near to Willow and not touching her would be worse than all the other
inconveniences.   

“You think?”
Willow retorted sarcastically, trying not to sound too defensive.  Her heart
rate accelerated, she forced her body to behave normally.  The last thing she
needed was to give him any sign of encouragement.  She rubbed her hands up and
down her arms as she started to shiver. 
Great
, she thought, it would be
cold too as the storeroom was next to where all the barrels were stored, no
heating. 

Tom noticed
her shiver and then realised that she only had a thin shirt on.  “Come here and
warm yourself up.  You can have my jumper.”  While Willow watched, he took off
his jacket to remove his thick jumper and then held it out for her to put on.   He
was thanking his lucky stars that he had put his coat on earlier when he was
taking the rubbish out the back.

Willows feet
stayed rooted to the floor, conflict warring in her mind.  She lowered her gaze
desperately fighting the powerful attraction.  She really did not want to get
involved with him, but was struggling to work out how not to.  Willow really
didn’t want him to know how much he affected her, especially locked up in the
small cupboard with nowhere to hide.  He still held the jumper out at arm’s
length for her to take, his eyes narrowed slightly in question.  She
desperately sort an adequate reason to refuse his offer as she really didn’t
want to be swathed in his jumper which would smell of his masculine scent.  She
shivered again realising this was no time to be impractical, she was getting
colder by the minute.  She took the jumper with a mumbled ‘thanks’.  As she
pulled the jumper on, Tom found two footstools that were normally used for
reaching the high shelves, to sit on.

“We can use
these for now.  At least it will keep us off the stone floor.  I’m going to
check if I can open the door first.”  For different reasons, they were both
hoping he could.

When they
realised that there was no hope opening the door, Tom sat down.  Time seemed to
drag initially, conversation was stilted, both very aware of the charged tension
in the air.  Gradually, the rigidity disappeared and the usual easy
conversation returned.  During a conversation about their childhoods, Willow
failed to stifle a yawn.

“Come on,
time for a sleep.”  Tom got off the small wooden stool and stretched to try and
work out some knots that had appearing in his muscles.  He rolled his
shoulders, unsure whether the tension was from the hours sitting on a tiny
stool or the thought of spending the night with Willow and not be able to touch
her. 

Willow
watched Tom look around the tiny storeroom until he finally started to empty
some crisp packets out of their boxes.  He used his foot to flatten the cartons
and placed the cardboard on the floor, to try and insulated them when they lay
down on the cold stone floor.  He then found some empty sacks at the back of
the store room and lay them on top.  “It isn’t much, but it will better for
sleeping if we could lie down.” 

Willow
looked towards the bed, doubts clouding her brain.  She reprimanded herself,
she was only going to be lying next to him on a makeshift bed.  She noticed his
gaze quickly shift to her lips.  Her heart faltered for a second, then beat
rapidly.  She moved her gaze away, trying not to give him any unspoken
invitations, she was having enough trouble controlling her own growing
feelings, without having to contend with his.   “Great,” she replied, her voice
lacking any enthusiasm, trying to numb all her feelings for him.  Willow sat on
the sacks and lay on her side, her back to where Tom would lie.  Her body
stiffened ready for when he lay down next to her.  She sighed in frustration, for
she knew she would be the one who got hurt if anything happened between them.

Tom let
Willow lay down first, watching her as she tried to get comfortable on the hard
surface. He witnessed her awkwardness as she tried to scoot as far over on the
sacks as possible.  He sighed.   “You can use me as a pillow, but you need to
turn towards me, not away.”  Tom lay down next to her as she changed position. 
He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer into his body.  Pulling a
couple of scratchy sacks over the top of them, he gently pushed her head back
onto his chest.

Willow
stayed as still as possible, she didn’t trust herself. She tensed when her
imagination suddenly exploded with images of him slowly undressing her, pressing
hot kisses against her skin.  It suddenly seemed far too long since she had
slept next to Robert, far too long.  She forced all the images out of her mind
and concentrated on listening to the rhythmic beating of Tom’s heart.  Even
though Tom had been considerate enough to try and insulate the floor, it was
still really cold.  Willow resisted the strong urge to hook her leg over his,
it would be too intimate.   After trying to relax her muscles, she could feel
his warmth slowly seeping through her clothes.  She sighed, she might not have
wanted to be in this situation, but at the moment, she suddenly felt quite
content and safe.  Her eyelids closed and she fell asleep in his arms.

Tom felt the
tension seep from her body, as her breathing deepened.  He chuckled, obviously
she didn’t get much sleep last night either.  He was enjoying having Willow lie
next to him, all soft and warm.  He closed his eyes, trying to wipe away his thoughts;
he really didn’t need to be thinking about how appealing she felt in his arms. 
She had caused him too many sleepless nights already. 

Tom awoke,
momentarily unaware of where he was. He looked to see what the weight was on
his arm and saw Willow.  Suddenly, he felt contented to just lie there and took
in a deep breath.  He looked around to get some idea of what time it was, but
it was still relatively dark, there was no light coming from the gap under the
door.  His body and blood stirred as he took in a lung full of her scent.  He
looked down onto the top of her blonde head snuggled into his chest and,
without thinking, gently kissed the top. 

In response
to the soothing gesture, she looked up at him, still half drowsy from sleep and
half encased in the darkness.  He smiled and she melted a little inside, her
mind a warm haze of recent dreams.  She vaguely made out the shape of his eyes
in the gloom, and tried to focus on his eyes.  The way he was quietly studying
her was turning her insides into jelly. 

An
irresistible force seemed to pull their lips together.  His mouth descended
with excruciating slowness.  Sleep drugged kisses intensified, while Willow
felt the heady rush of sensation.  He lowered his voice and muttered into her
ear, she shivered.  The heating fire of his kisses, warmed her and ignited a rapid
response.  Her mind shifted effortlessly from a sleepy haze into unthinking
desire, her body in control of her responses, her mind unthinking.  His kisses
demanded her and she met those demands with the same needs, as the kisses lost
their innocent touch.