Unravelled (24 page)

“You.” He says it with such warmth that I can feel the sun on my face again. “You and that animal exploded into my life, destroyed my guest house and my peace, crawled in under my skin and...” he picks a leaf from my hair. “...and I find myself missing you when you’re not around, looking for you in the house, in the office and when I see you, I... well, it feels like my heart smiles.”

“Oh my god! That was so metro sexual! It-”

“Alex, please. Don’t joke now.” He pulls back a bit and breathes deeply, trying to control his annoyance at my insensitive remark. I feel chastised, but still have this desperate need to get out of this conversation. As if reading my mind, he continues, “I know that you avoid all forms of emotions, but I’m asking you just this once to not make a joke, to not try and distract me and to talk to me.”

My bad.

He puts his hand on my cheek to keep eye contact and rubs my cheekbone with his thumb. I lean into his hand and feel deeply ashamed of myself for making a joke at such a time.

“Adam, I’m sorry. Truly. I’m just scared.” Petrified might be a better word to describe the feeling overtaking my heart at the moment. I take his hand and press it even tighter against my face. The time for ‘the conversation’ has come and I still don’t know what to say, but I try. “I...”

“Don’t explain. I know that you will talk when you’re ready. I just want you to know how deeply I care about you. And this...”

He bends over and gently places his lips on mine. I knew it. I knew his lips would be this soft and delicious. All these weeks of fantasising what it would be like didn’t do the real thing justice. Oh dear Mary and all the saints, he’s going to kiss me again. His soft kiss becomes insistent and when it deepens, the dread in my stomach changes to that hot exquisite feeling that always ends with tears and three bottles of red wine.

Yet, I can’t stop this. I don’t want to. His sincerity struck a chord with me and I find myself wanting to trust him. We’ve known each other for six intense weeks and not once did he betray my trust. Maybe he is the real deal. Maybe this won’t end badly. My musings abruptly get pulled to other dimensions when his hand moves down from my cheek and slowly slides down my neck. He unbuttons the top few buttons of my shirt and pushes the one side away. My breath catches when he cups one breast encased in a very sexy bra. He lifts his head and looks at where his fingers are pinching my nipple through my bra.

“My god, but you are beautiful. Beautiful and perfect.”

I have no come back for that. No witty retort. The whispered sincerity in his voice rips away all the walls I built around my heart. I feel free. Free to enjoy his erotic attention and his love. With this joyful thought, I have a burst of enthusiasm and roll Adam on his back. What a perfect fit. I’m on top of him, his one hand is locked on my J Lo butt, and the other is messing with my bra strap and I’m giving my all to this soul-lifting kiss.

Chapter 20

I’m in pain. Delicious pain. My butt muscles hurt, my legs, my... Oh, what exquisite pain! After our little picnic adventure, which I’m sure frightened all wild life in a five mile radius, we fetched Blossom from the doggy parlour, came home and couldn’t get to the bedroom fast enough. I’m sure my bra is still somewhere on the staircase. I’ve never had a sex-marathon before and can highly recommend it – with some warning. I’ve discovered joys I never knew existed and muscles to go with it, and these muscles are telling me now about my exploits. In painful detail.

My dilemma lies in this, it is Monday morning and I have to go to work, but I don’t think I’m able to get out of bed. I’m busy trying to sweet talk my legs into moving when a freshly shaved Adam walks into the room. How is it possible that men seem to be able to tie a towel around their waists, do a “Riverdance” jig, mow the lawn and cook a five course meal without the towel moving one millimetre? No matter what method I use, whenever I wrap a towel around me, the whole thing drops to the floor the moment I inhale, exhale, pick my nose or lift a toothbrush. But I digress.

Looking at that mouth-watering torso, his strong arms and getting a whiff of his shower-freshness turns the heat up so high in my stomach, I think I might be able to poach an egg in my bellybutton. I might not be able to move, but I promise I will find the power from somewhere to have another roll in the hay with the man walking towards the bed right now. He sits down next to me and his towel fall open a wee bit to reveal those strong legs, which makes me think thoughts not suitable for Monday mornings before work.

“Alex, don’t look at me like that. I need to get to the office and frankly, I don’t think I could manage one more time. You’re insatiable.” I take this as a huge compliment and give him a toothy grin. He shakes his head and smiles at me in an ain’t-she-cute way. A wave of pure lust grabs my body and I have to force myself to take a few calming breaths and focus on his face. Maybe my wantonness will subside. Or not. So instead I focus on work.

“I also need to go in. Our attempt at a record has made me forget about everything, including the festival.” I smile tiredly at him. “Thank you.”

He gives a little laugh and says, “This has been coming for a while. Actually, the moment I stopped to help you when that blasted car of yours ran out of fuel I knew that this would happen. You don’t have to thank me, but it was a great pleasure.” He leans down and plants a tender kiss on my lips. “Take your time and come in when you’re ready and once you got your car. I’m sure Ray has everything under control.”

When we got home yesterday, there was a message on the answering machine that Bomb was ready! I almost had another orgasm right there and then, but decided to leave it to Adam to give me such pleasure. And did he ever. Anyway, apart from making beautiful love, we also talked quite a lot about things, but never about the dreaded ‘us’. One of the topics was my car and that I should go get it this morning and leave Adam’s there for repairs. In the heat of the moment and lying naked next to him, I almost told him the truth of what happened to his car, and barely managed to hold on to that secret, but I’m proud to say I didn’t tell him.

“I’ll be in the office as soon as I pick up Bomb.” Adam snorts every time I call my car by name and now is no different.

“There’s no rush.” He gives me a kiss on the nose, gets up and disappears into the dressing room. And here I lay – with two legs unable to get me out of bed and all kinds of thoughts floating through my head. Despite Adam telling me that I can go into the office later, I really need to get a move on and go in as early as possibly. Just because mostly everything is sorted out doesn’t mean I don’t have to be there. If only my legs would work. I start talking to my lower extremities in the hope that they will obey. Oh, why bother? I’ll just lie in for a few more minutes.

“Blossom!” Adam’s bark rudely pulls me out of my slumber and my eyes fly open. Adam is standing at the foot of the bed with a very disapproving look on his face. I follow his look and then burst out laughing. While Adam was getting dressed and I was snoozing, a beautifully groomed Blossom must have snuck into the room and is now lying on Adam’s side of the bed, drooling all over his Egyptian cotton sheets.

“At least he’s clean.” I say in defence of the dog that now sports a most pitiful expression on his groomed face. Adam sighs, shakes his head and then turns his look on me. Oh dear.

I know that serious look. He wants to talk. I knew this was too good to last. The gods just couldn’t let me enjoy this morning without ‘the talk’. I go cold inside and prepare myself for the ‘this is fun, but will never go anywhere serious’ or something along those lines. Why would he want anything more? I berate myself for even hoping to hope that this could mean something to him.

“I have a proposition.” Well, that isn’t a typical opening sentence for the aforementioned talk and I am sure my confusion shows on my face. Interestingly he stays at the foot of the bed – as if he’s hesitant.

“Yes?” Now I’m curious.

“Don’t make any decisions now. I want you to seriously think about this and then tell me when you’re ready.” What on earth is he talking about? “Don’t feel pressured into anything. I want you to want to do this and also for the right reasons.” I wish he would hurry up and get to the point. And then he does. “I would really like it if you stayed on after this festival. Alex, don’t say no,” he says quickly. “At least not yet. Please just think about it before you make a decision.”

I’m just too gobsmacked to say anything at all. This is not what I expected. Wow. I allow my mind to travel to the future and that’s when panic starts creeping up on me like a lion stalking a vulnerable gazelle. Adam comes around the bed, bends down and gives me a tender kiss. “I’ll see you in the office.”

How is it possible to feel so conflicted? Adam’s left for the office and I’m still in the same place he left me, just progressively more shocked. On the one hand I have this feeling of pure bliss and divinely sore muscles. I also have the feeling of being adored, and if all the women in the world were honest, they would all agree that being adored is something no handbag, designer shoes or weight loss can top. Then there’s the other hand. That blasted other hand. Casting a very dark shadow over my bit of bliss is Adam’s proposal. If my past is anything to go by, staying would be the worst thing I could do for Adam. And for me.

My musings are rudely interrupted by the mother of all farts, rattling the bed frame from next to me and I give a laugh-sigh. Had Blossom been under Adam’s prize Egyptian cotton sheets, I swear the bed would’ve set sail.

“Go on, off with you!” It takes a few nudges to get the darling to skulk off the bed. He throws me a dirty look and leaves me to my own thoughts while he goes looking for another house rule to break. Well, brooding over what could be and would be is not productive, so I lift myself with an almighty groan out of bed and head for the shower in what must look like a very funny walk. It is Monday, five days to the festival and now is not a good time for love-bird ideas to start nesting in my mind. First a shower and then I’m going to get Bomb.

“Close your eyes.”

“Al,” I say with a mixture of irritation and amusement. “Just take me to my car.”

“Aw, come on. Be a sport and close your eyes.”

“Oh, all right.” I dutifully close my eyes and feel Al’s calloused hand touch my elbow. I love surprises, but I’ve never liked being blindfolded and I particularly don’t like walking with my eyes closed. I’ve done many things in the last six weeks that I wouldn’t have considered before, so in the spirit of adventure I allow Al to lead me to a place where the smell of car engine is very strong.

“Taddah!” he singsongs and lets go of my arm. My eyes shoot open and once my brain registers what I’m looking at, it forgets to continue telling my mouth to stays shut and I’m left standing with my mouth wide open, looking at Bomb.

“Oh my...oh....” I’m almost too scared to walk closer.

“So, whadcha think?”

“Oh...Al...oh...” A tear forms in the corner of my eye and threatens to drop down my carefully made-up face.

“Um, Miss Alex. Please don’t cry. If something’s wrong I’ll fix it. I just followed Mr Montgomery’s instructions.” The growing concern in Al’s voice brings me out of my shock enough to turn to him with a huge sigh and a shake of the head.

“No, no, no! Al, it’s perfect.” I walk closer to Bomb and gingerly touch his roof. “Perfect,” I whisper.

“Really?”

“Oh yes.” I look at him with bright eyes and have no idea how I’m going to thank him. Or Adam. “What colour is this?”

“It’s firebrick red. Mr Montgomery said it should be that colour. He also chose the interior,” he says while he opens the passenger door and lets me look in. My mother would be shocked if she knew this, and as open minded as my granny was, I don’t think she would understand this, but the moment I see the seat covers and the rest of the car I almost have an orgasm. Right here in Al’s workshop.

“I love it!” I shriek and give an apologetic giggle when Al jumps back from fright. I don’t know where they got the upholstery fabric, but it is fabulous! The seats are covered in soft blue material dotted with medium and small daisies which all have happy or funny faces. On the dashboard, where the new model Beatles have a flower, Bomb has a little red daisy.

“Al, where did you get all this?”

“Oh, I didn’t. Mr Montgomery found it and had it delivered. I only did the work.”

Who would’ve thought Mr Wall Street would have such a sense of humour. I walk around the car and get into the driver’s seat and ogle all the details inside while Al babbles on about the engine and how he ‘souped it up’. Whatever that means. All I know is that my little Bomb looks like new inside. The carpets are the same shade of blue as the seat covers and the roof of the car is also dotted with smiling daisies. The steering wheel is smaller than I remember, but it makes for more space and looks sporty. There are a lot of changes in the dashboard and when Al sees me looking at it, he gets in the passenger side.

“As you can see, there are a few new features. The new CD player is a front loader, but here you can plug your MP3 player in and listen to your own compilation of music. Here is the air-conditioning controls.”

“I have air-conditioning?”

“Yes. Mr Montgomery was very specific about that too. As you can see, there are only two buttons: one to switch if on and off and one to control the temperature. This little screen will show you the temperature.” I get the idea that Adam and Al chose features that would least confuse me. I want to feel insulted, but since I’m not a gadget person and feel frightened by little controls, knobs and gauges, this is more practical than insulting, so I smile at Al and he takes it as a sign that I want to hear about all the technical details. I allow him to ramble on while I wriggle my bottom deeper into the seat and rest my hands on the steering wheel.