Jojo's French Escape

by Lorraine Wilson

  What did he ask me? Oh, the reception, yes …

  ‘Um … yes, of course. That would be fun.’

  ‘They rely on you a lot, Leo and Poppy.’

  ‘I don’t mind. I love being here in France and without Poppy …’ I shrug. ‘God knows where I would have ended up.’

  ‘But you used to own your own business, your own café, didn’t you?’ He is still intensely focused on me. ‘Don’t you miss it?’

  I fight the urge to look away, back down at the menu. I feel like I can’t hide anything from him, that when he looks into my eyes, he can see everything.

  ‘I don’t miss it as much as I thought I would. I’m still cooking, and I love living here in the south of France – the beautiful countryside, the mountains, the markets, the gorgeous sunshine …’

  ‘So what are you doing with your café then?’ Cal asks. I should have learnt by now that he’s not one to take the easy conversational path.

  Some of the warm glow I’ve been feeling dissipates and I examine the menu again. At that moment I’m saved by the waitress bringing out the Roquefort soufflé along with a basket of soft, freshly baked rolls.

  ‘Well?’ Cal presses, once we’re alone again. He’s as tenacious as a terrier, a bit like Pickwick with a stick; he refuses to drop things.

  ‘I’m selling it,’ I say eventually, trying not to think about all the hard work I put into that place, sometimes working almost twenty-hour days when we were at our busiest and short-staffed.

  ‘That’s a shame. How do you feel about that?’

  I mentally roll my eyes. At least I think I just thought the eye roll, maybe I actually did it. Oops.

  ‘I’m … a little sad,’ I admit eventually. ‘But I can’t go back. That’s my old life and this is my new one.’

  I watch as he digests this along with a piece of bread roll.

  ‘Maybe you could invest in Les Coquelicots or The Barn once you’ve sold?’ Cal suggests, taking a spoonful of the soufflé, examining it critically and then giving it a nod of approval. ‘That’s good.’

  I take a spoonful myself. It’s more than good, it’s pure fluffy perfection. I usually find the taste of Roquefort overpowering but the flavour in this is just right, not too strong at all.

  ‘I haven’t really thought about that.’ I chew a mouthful of bread roll and swallow. ‘Do you think it’s something Poppy and Leo might be interested in?’

  ‘It doesn’t hurt to ask,’ he says. ‘You’re already practically running the guesthouse. Wouldn’t it be nice to have something you know is yours again, even if only partly?’

  ‘Yes, it would be nice,’ I reply thoughtfully.

  Much as he can annoy me – after all, people who are always right can be a real pain – let’s face it, Cal is definitely right about this. It’s what’s missing for me. I know Poppy says I can stay forever but actually owning a share of the business would help me feel more secure, help me to believe St Quentin really is my home and not just a lovely daydream or extended holiday.

  ‘You know I’m right.’ Cal smiles then, half cheeky, half smug.

  ‘Sure, but do you have to be insufferable with it?’ I ask, but I’m smiling to take the sting out of my words.

  Cal’s smile just widens. As usual he’s Teflon-coated when it comes to my irritable attempts to keep him at arm’s length. And as usual his good humour has the effect of diffusing any bad mood on my part.

  He’s good for me. The thought flits through my mind and not for the first time I wonder if I’m letting Aiden ruin yet more of my life by making me distrust and keep at arm’s length a lovely, if slightly annoying at times, man who is interesting, funny and sexy as hell.

  Have I been dressing up my fear of getting hurt as wise caution, protecting me?

  If I’m honest I know the answer to both those questions. The issue of him being a celebrity is another matter, but I put that to the back of my mind. Surely my nice new lingerie set deserves to be seen by someone other than myself tonight?

  The asparagus soup is equally delicious and accompanied by a deep-fried risotto ball containing a little smoked haddock.

  ‘I think I could eat a whole plate of these risotto balls,’ I comment, changing the subject, confident I can deflect Cal with the subject of food.

  ‘They’re good, aren’t they?’ He smiles as though he cooked them himself, instead of just finding the restaurant.

  The scallops and lamb are equally delicious but for me the best course is the trio of desserts. One is a fritter with delicious jam in the middle, the second a crème brûlée and the third a cheesecake.

  ‘Those were quite the most delicious desserts I’ve ever tasted,’ I exclaim once I’ve finished.

  ‘Ah, but you haven’t let me cook for you yet,’ Cal says, teasingly.

  ‘That’s only because I’ve either been doing meals for guests or we’ve gone out to eat,’ I protest. ‘I know you’re here to help Leo out, but I assumed it was also supposed to be a break for you. I could hardly expect you to cook for everyone – that’s not time off for you.’

  ‘I enjoy cooking. It’s never cooking I need time off from,’ Cal says enigmatically.

  ‘Oh, so what did you want time off from?’ I decide to be direct and ask. It’s not like Cal ever holds back on my account.

  ‘People mostly.’ Cal looks at me as though considering whether to confide more. ‘You know I would love to cook for you sometime, if you’d be willing to let me take your kitchen over. You can be my taste tester for menu options.’

  ‘I’d love to do that and of course you can use the kitchen – it’s not mine anyway.’ I take a sip of coffee, aware I’m not sure how much wine I’ve had exactly and might need it to balance things out a bit.

  ‘I’ve never seen Poppy cook anything.’ Cal smiles wryly.

  ‘That’s best for everyone concerned.’ I laugh. ‘I’m not being mean: she’d be the first to admit it. But then lots of people can cook, to my level I mean, not to your level of expertise, obviously. Where was I? Oh yes, Poppy, she’s really talented. She can paint and the children’s stories she creates are really lovely.’

  ‘Don’t do yourself down, we all have valuable skills. Yes, I’ve seen Poppy’s art and it’s lovely, but has it ever occurred to you that she’s been able to take on more artistically because she’s had you around to help her?’

  ‘I’m not sure about that …’

  ‘Well, I am, and I know because she told me herself.’ Cal’s grin is back.

  ‘I walked straight into that one, didn’t I?’ I smile ruefully.

  ‘Somehow I knew you would.’

  ‘Did you now?’ I take another sip of coffee and try to think of something to take the conversation away from me. ‘So, I suppose what we can do for Poppy and Leo’s reception is going to be limited by the size of the guest list?’

  ‘Definitely,’ Cal agrees. ‘Anything that has to be timed perfectly is difficult on a large scale. The kitchen at The Barn is going to be more equipped for a smaller scale catering, like this.’

  He gestures around the dining room. ‘This is what I see as the vision for The Barn. Small scale, intimate dining for people prepared to pay the price for good quality ingredients and attention to detail.’

  ‘So this meal tonight really was about research then?’ I raise an eyebrow. I think the wine is making me braver. Or my hormones. Probably a combination of the two.

  ‘Why, did you think this was part of a master plan to have my wicked way with you?’ He’s smiling but his eyes are inscrutable.

  He is obviously far better at deflecting than I am. Hmm.

  ‘Maybe … So was it?’

  ‘Maybe.’ Cal’s grin widens.

  We’re interrupted by the waitress, ready to refill our cups. While she’s pouring more coffee, I catch Cal looking at me thoughtfully, a knowing gleam in his eye making me feel decidedly hot, in spite of the cool air inside the thick Abbey walls.

  ‘What are you thinking about?’ I ask o
nce we’re finally alone again. I’m sure I already know but for once it would be nice to hear him actually say it.

  ‘An entirely different kind of tasting menu.’ He quirks an eyebrow, the gleam in his eyes intensifying.

  ‘I don’t think you’re allowed to have those kinds of thoughts in a monastery.’

  I hold Cal’s gaze in a way I probably wouldn’t have, back at the guesthouse. Maybe it’s the great food and wine relaxing me, or the absence of housework, chores and demanding dogs asking for cuddles and treats.

  Or maybe I’m just horny as hell after a year with no sex and my recent exposure to all the lingering looks, accidental touches and pure sex appeal that are Callum O’Connor. What I’m still not sure about is why he’s interested in me. Is it just because I’ve been knocking him back and that makes me a challenge? He assumed I’d be an easy conquest because … well, frankly everyone does. Everyone who doesn’t know me.

  The assumption by some that a woman who knows she likes sex is a slut has always annoyed me. It’s such a messed-up attitude to something that should be celebrated – a lovely way to connect with another human being and to make each other feel wonderful. At best it’s heavenly …

  I glance at the thick stone walls and bite my lip. Now I’m the one having sacrilegious thoughts.

  ‘What are you thinking about?’ Cal’s gaze is fixed on my mouth. I know he didn’t miss me biting my lip.

  ‘Oh, tasting menus, of course,’ I say airily, trying to ignore the blush that creeps across my cheeks as an extremely erotic tasting image comes to mind.

  I can’t believe how easily Cal gets me blushing. I’m turning into Poppy. I don’t usually blush. I’m the cool, calm and collected one out of the two of us. Although that is frankly not too hard.

  It must be the sex drought doing this to me. Oh, sod it. Maybe it’s time for a deluge.

  Cal has spotted the blush. Of course he has. The corners of his lips quirk as though he’s trying to repress an unseemly grin of triumph.

  The haste with which he asks for and pays the bill is definitely unseemly though. He takes my arm as we walk out. The corridor is quiet, the lighting throwing flickering shadows onto the walls and stone floor, the chill air of the courtyard drifting through.

  I shiver, partly from cold and partly from something a great deal less chilly. Cal rubs the length of my arm, his palm warm against my bare flesh as he pulls me against him. It’s a seemingly innocuous gesture but one that sends a sharp erotic charge through my body.

  Something is still bothering me though. I’ve never been completely able to get Cal’s conversation with Leo out of my mind.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ Cal asks softly.

  ‘The thing is …’ I hesitate but it’s no good. I have to tell him and get it out there. ‘Look, I overheard you talking to Leo the first night you got here … about me. I wasn’t deliberately eavesdropping, just looking for Peanut, who was playing one of her hide and seek games, you know.’

  My heart is beating hard and I wrap my arms around my body in a very basic attempt to protect myself.

  ‘Ah, I did wonder.’ Cal pulls a rueful face. ‘Sorry, I was being a dick. I was in a weird place, there was some stuff going on that I was trying to get away from, and you being here, well, that sort of made it difficult.’

  ‘I know the feeling.’ I reply dryly, looking pointedly at him.

  We both smile and it breaks the tension.

  I wonder if he’s going to elaborate on the ‘stuff’ but he doesn’t add anything else.

  ‘What made you wonder?’ I ask.

  ‘Well, you were friendly when I arrived but after that first day I’d keep catching you glowering at me.’

  ‘I do not glower,’ I exclaim indignantly.

  ‘You so do, but it’s kind of cute,’ Cal whispers and reaches out to stroke my cheek, stopping just short of my mouth and making me tingle all over.

  ‘Hmm …’

  ‘You’re doing it now.’

  I stick my tongue out at him.

  ‘Can you forgive me?’ he asks seriously, eyes dark as they lock on mine.

  I think about him slipping his hand into mine when the English girls were taunting me, how lovely he’s been with Flump, how tenderly he unhooked me from the hedge, but most of all how he has been there for me, encouraging me and really seeing me. I haven’t felt ‘seen’ for a long time. I didn’t want to be but now I think maybe I do.

  ‘Sure.’ I smile. ‘I forgive you.’

  I feel a layer of tension between us dissolve and the warmth of a new understanding reached.

  On the journey home my mind is too active though and I can’t help overthinking everything. Does Cal’s apology mean he believes that I wasn’t complicit in the sex tape Aiden made of me? I hate how much it matters that he believes me, but it really does. So many people have judged me and refuse to believe the truth but if Cal is still one of them that would really hurt. I don’t want to bring it up. If Cal and I are heading where I think we’re heading I don’t want either of us to be thinking about Aiden or that … video.

  Sally always used to say you couldn’t trust what a man said before sex, that they’d say anything if it got them laid. I can’t believe that about Cal though. He’s certainly not shy about speaking his mind. He’s too direct to be trying to dupe me, I’m sure.

  Am I being naive? And why on earth am I thinking about Sally? I glance across at Cal and feel desire pulsing inside me, rushing through my blood. I am so, so tired of being careful. I want to throw caution to the winds and follow my instinct.

  When the car is stopped at a junction Cal reaches over and gently strokes my thigh. We don’t speak but the energy between us is taut, thick with anticipation, and I know for sure I’m not the only one feeling it.

  Back at the guesthouse I’m reunited with an ecstatic Flump, who is torn between jumping and licking me and doing mad, celebratory laps around the house. The other dogs soon join in the chasing and by the time I’ve extracted myself from the scrum Poppy and Leo are leaving with Maxi, Peanut, Treacle and Pickwick in tow.

  It’s unusual for Poppy to leave without chatting to me first. I wonder if Leo hustled her out at a signal from Cal.

  ‘So, is this where you try to seduce me then? After plying me with wine and good food?’ I lean back against the kitchen counter, trying to look relaxed and wishing I felt the bravado I’m trying to act.

  ‘Is that an admission you’d like me to seduce you then?’ Cal’s mouth quirks into a smile that is a touch self-satisfied.

  I nibble at my lower lip, feeling outwardly frozen and inwardly torn between desire and fear. I want to say yes, I’d very much like that but … I’m aware I’m standing at the edge of something. I’m at a tipping point, still not totally decided on whether I want to be tipped or not. It would be so easy to cling to the familiar and not run the risk of falling. It would be safe.

  I look down at my shoes. Hasn’t life got to be about more than just feeling safe? Desire pulses through me. I want this. I want him. I really do. But I need to remember there’s a very good reason why I’ve been trying to keep my distance from Cal. I never wanted to feel this swept away again – and on a scale of being swept away, if Aiden was a one, Cal is one hundred.

  Which means Cal could badly hurt me.

  ‘JoJo?’ Cal takes my hand and gently squeezes. I look up and meet his gaze. When I do the anxieties fade away and desire emerges into sharp, all-consuming focus.

  With his other hand he tenderly strokes the side of my face.

  I expected a lot of things from Cal, but his tenderness disarms me totally. Passion flares inside me in response. How can such a simple touch feel so incredibly sexual and intimate?

  Cal’s intense gaze is still locked on mine and I realise he is waiting for an answer, a definite, unequivocal green light.

  ‘Yes,’ I whisper, answering his question and ignoring the urge to second-guess myself.

  Want morphs into necessity. I need this.r />
  Cal presses in closer and his lips meet mine. The kiss is gentle at first, tender and soft as he teases my lips and my tongue. It feels incredibly intimate, like we’re sharing a breath, locked in our own little bubble.

  It’s also incredibly seductive, slowly arousing me. My fears recede, warmth spreading through me. It’s been a long time since anyone kissed me like this. Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed like this. His lips travel down and along my jaw line, his stubble lightly grazing my skin.

  I let out a breathy sigh and press against him as he kisses my neck. His hands slide up beneath the hem of my dress, one hand cupping my bottom while the other skims my knickers, pressing lightly between my legs. An involuntary low moan escapes my lips.

  I’d forgotten the joy of exploring another body and of being explored. I undo his shirt buttons and slip my hand inside, my fingers discovering hard muscle and finding his heartbeat. My investigation halts when he pushes my knickers to one side and strokes the wetness between my folds up over my clit. I gasp and lean against him. I’m very wet already, almost embarrassingly so, and his fingers slip up inside me easily. I’m still steadying myself against him when he brings his fingers up to my mouth and spreads the wetness over my lips. He then dips his head and takes his time licking along my lips before plunging his tongue into my mouth, hungrily claiming me with a passionate kiss.

  I love that he can be both tender and passionate. I love his depth. I love … this. God, do I love this.

  By now I’m glad of the kitchen counter behind me and Callum’s body holding me up because my legs feel embarrassingly foal-like – liable to give way at any moment. He pulls back briefly and stares into my eyes. His eyes seem darker now, midnight blue, with dark pools that glitter with intensity.

  I stare back, feeling magnetised and drawn in.

  Swept away …

  I swat at the niggling fears buzzing at the back of my mind like flies butting up against a fly screen. I’ll be fine, I can be careful. I won’t get sucked in. It’s just sex.