by Clare Lydon
Children of alcoholics, more often than not, grew up playing peacemaker, never wanting to rock an already seesawing boat in a tempest. Saffron had learned this in therapy and understood the foundation for her need to placate others. Understanding and confronting were polar opposites in her world.
The door of the restaurant came into view, and Saffron legged it to get there first. “After you.” She made an exaggerated bow and arm wave, only to be met with a snort.
I guess chivalry isn’t appreciated. Saffron crumpled, wanting to sink into the ground.
“Ladies, welcome.” The owner pressed his hands together. “Which one of you is the lucky lady?”
Saffron and Kirsty stared blankly at the man.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Are both of you the brides? Such a lovely couple.” He put a hand on one of Kirsty’s shoulders and gave it a squeeze.
“Oh, no.” Kirsty rushed to say, lowering her shoulder to be free of the man. “I’m planning a divorce party for…” She looked to Saffron.
“The person who left you is a fool.” He slapped his hands together, but stopped short from spitting on the floor, even if he looked as if he was about to. “An utter fool.” The man led them to the table, speaking to Saffron on his right. “Don’t you worry. What we’ve conjured up today will make you feel better. I have no doubt you’ll rebound quickly.” He winked at Saffron as if hoping to add his name to her future suitors list, much to her amazement. Did he have no clue who she was?
Kirsty took a seat next to Saffron, which would have been encouraging, but the way the table was set up, the chairs were right next to each other. Should Saffron take comfort in the fact that Kirsty didn’t move one of the chairs to the far side? Was that a sign she didn’t hate being in the same space as Saffron? Or was she simply avoiding making a scene?
The owner came out with two plates. “First up, caramelised scallops with cauliflower puree and pancetta. Enjoy.”
“They look scrumptious.” Saffron unfurled a white linen napkin with a cracking sound, placing it onto her lap.
“I feel like I should tell you something.” Kirsty poked the offering with a fork.
“You don’t like scallops?”
“I’m not a superfan, but no, that isn’t what I want to say.”
Saffron braced for the worst.
“The other night, I think we can both agree it was a mistake. With the festivities, too much booze, and wanting to… I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“Uh—”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m not the type to indulge in summer flings. We both know you’re only here temporarily, and I’m planning your sister’s divorce party, of all things. Us… kissing again, is a bad idea. Absolutely the worst.” Kirsty sliced the air with both hands.
“Oh, I couldn’t agree more.” Actually, I totally disagree!
“You’re clearly still involved with Echo Black, and I’m not the type to be the other woman. Not that I think whatever we had qualified as that. It’s just… yeah, we should cool it. Focus on the party planning and nothing more.” Kirsty gestured to the scallops as if they were the only things that mattered in the moment.
“Yes, all this is about Ginger.” Saffron noticed Kirsty referred to them in the past tense. The woman moved on quickly, which surely meant it had only been a bit of fun for her.
Kirsty turned to Saffron. “You agree? It was a mistake?”
Saffron nodded, hopefully showcasing a relieved smile when all she wanted to do was crawl back under her duvet and start the day over because this wasn’t where she wanted to be. The last thing she had wanted was being told the kiss was a mistake and they should only see each other for party planning business and nothing more.
For Saffron, the kiss had been amazing. The toe-curling kind that she’d heard about but never experienced.
But it wasn’t only that. When she was around Kirsty, she felt like herself. Not SAFFRON OLIVER, all lit up in red on a marquee. Allowed to be her dorky, uncool self without fear of being judged. Wasn’t that what most people craved deep down? To show their true colours and to be not only accepted but loved for those nutty qualities? That door had just been slammed shut in her face.
Kirsty cleared her throat, still waiting for an answer.
“Yep. I agree.” Saffron stared at her plate.
“Our lives are just so different. You’re used to women drooling over you, and my life is in this sleepy town with terrible beaches, where I hope to eke out enough wine sales so I can buy frozen salmon and peas at my local Iceland for my version of Friday night dinner. Our worlds couldn’t be further apart if we tried.” Kirsty spread her arms out wide, one hand barely grazing Saffron’s chest, causing her insides to ignite like a stick of dynamite. “Sorry about that.” She recoiled in her chair, the chasm between them growing even more.
Saffron tried to blot out how her body still sizzled from the accidental touch. “For the record, I like salmon and peas.”
“Have you ever tried it from a shop like Iceland, that has budget in mind, not bells and whistles for the rich? That’s the point, Saff, isn’t it?”
Saff? Kirsty had called her Saff, but it wasn’t meant to bring them closer, only to tear them apart. And, why was the woman so caught up about shopping in Iceland? Would Saffron have to build one of the shops on an actual chunk of ice to get across to Kirsty that she didn’t like the so-called Hollywood lifestyle?
Saffron tapped the side of her head, forcing a smile. “Don’t worry. We’re on the same page.”
Kirsty let out a relieved whoosh of air, and her shoulders softened. “I’m so glad. Because this”—she waved to Saffron and then back to her chest, resting her hand on the appetizing swell, causing Saffron to sit on her hands to avoid doing anything foolish—“has been awkward at best. Now that we’ve cleared the air, we can go back to being what we are: party planner and client.”
“Perfect. As the party planner, what do you think of the scallops?”
Kirsty took a dainty bite. “Oh, it’s not from Iceland.”
“Is that a tick in the right box for you? I know how much you love your Iceland.” Saffron didn’t have to roll her eyes, since her tone made it clear.
“Just as much as you love your Waitrose.” Kirsty smirked, her red lips pressed together, and Saffron felt a tug of an invisible string pulling her mouth to those lips.
“It’s where my assistant does all my shopping, before wrapping everything in gold paper.” Saffron snapped her head back, confounded as to why Kirsty couldn’t understand Saffron didn’t give a fuck about where to shop as long as they did it together. The takeaway point was there was absolutely zero chance between them. Saffron should put it out of her mind right then and there.
“Well, ladies, what do you think of the scallops?”
“Stunning.” Saffron stared into Kirsty’s eyes.
“Nothing better on the planet.” Kirsty held her gaze.
“Magnificent.” The man bobbed his head, clearing the half-eaten food. “I’ll be right back with the next delectable delight.”
Saffron licked her lips.
Kirsty bit down on the left side of her bottom lip.
Saffron tugged on her collar and crossed her legs.
The owner returned. “This will knock your socks off. Grilled lobster with chili and chorizo.” He kissed his fingertips. “Fresh and hot.”
“She is… I mean, it looks like it is.” If the lobster shell had been on the plate, Saffron would have crawled into it. As an alternative she had to settle for her cheeks burning redder than the missing shell.
“Thank you.” Kirsty swallowed.
When they were alone, Saffron raised her eyes to those lovely greys, only to be met with a quizzical stare. “Shall we dig in?”
“It is why we’re here.” Kirsty didn’t make a move to sample the lobster.
“Yes, because you’re the party planner and I’m the client. Nothing else to see here, folks.” Saffron tried to laugh at her own joke but nearly c
hoked. She clenched the water glass with two shaky hands and drank heavily to clear her passageway.
Kirsty slapped Saffron’s back. “Are you okay?”
Saffron nodded, still guzzling water, her eyes tearing. After several deep breaths, she recovered, mostly. “These are the moments that are usually cut out of my films.”
“The real ones?” Kirsty still had her hand on Saffron’s back, rubbing it tenderly.
Saffron stifled the buzzing sensation coursing through her, as Kirsty still massaged her back, worry in her eyes.
“Exactly.” Saffron took one final drink of water. “Moviegoers don’t want real from me. Only perfection.” Like I have my life figured out, when really, I’m flailing like the rest of the human population.
“Another reason why we wouldn’t work. I revel in imperfection. Maybe it’s why I prefer rom-coms, not action flicks. No offence.”
“None taken. What’s your favourite?”
“Sleepless in Seattle.” Kirsty spoke the words like she’d tossed down a gauntlet.
“Another problem. I’m a You’ve Got Mail girl.”
“I think we’ll find, if we continue scratching the surface, we really don’t have a lot in common.” Kirsty fidgeted with her fork.
“I would like to note, both of our rom-coms star Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan.” Saffron punctuated the sentence with an emphatic finger punching the air. “If we agree on absolutely everything, where would the spark come from?”
“Not from water, that’s for sure.”
“Right. Been there. Done that.” Saffron made a check mark in the air. “Just tap water from here on out.”
“Will you be able to survive, do you think?”
Saffron clutched her shirt as dramatically as she could. “I don’t have a choice.”
“You’re being so brave.” Kirsty placed a hand on Saffron’s thigh.
If I were indeed brave, I’d lean over and kiss you to test your we can never be more than party planner/client resolve.
Instead, Saffron refused to draw attention to the hand, because she didn’t want the contact to end.
A thought struck her. “Did I tell you Michelle, my assistant, shipped my motorbike? Have you ever ridden one?”
Kirsty shook her head.
“Since you taught me to kayak, I’d like to return the favour and take you for a ride.” Saffron had to force one image out of her mind. “On my motorbike.”
“I thought we just agreed to keep our relationship strictly professional.”
“We can still be mates, can’t we?” Please say yes.
“Mates?”
“Yes. I get that you want nothing more. But, there’s nothing like riding a bike. Come on. It’ll be fun.” Saffron held her breath, waiting.
“I’ll think about it.”
Saffron could only concentrate on the idea of Kirsty wrapping her arms around Saffron, holding on and not letting go. By the glint in Kirsty’s eyes, there might be hope Saffron wasn’t alone in this fantasy.
Chapter 17
It turned out Saffron wasn’t very good at taking no for an answer. It probably wasn’t something she heard often. She hadn’t given up, texting Kirsty the previous day after their party planning lunch to arrange a bike ride.
Kirsty was torn. She didn’t want to give Saffron the wrong impression. That she was interested. But she was only human.
It wasn’t every day that Saffron Oliver from Girl Racer offered to take you on a bike ride, was it?
Meet me downstairs in five. I hope you’re ready for a thrill. x
It wasn’t the first suggestive text Saffron had sent her. Kirsty hoped Monday had gone some way to smoothing things over, that they were on the same page now. Sort of. Friends with a sell-by date of whenever Saffron went back to her normal life. That was how Kirsty was going to view it.
She walked down her stairs and outside, just as the kick of an engine split the air. If she’d been in the shop, she might have tutted. However, Kirsty could do nothing but gawp as Saffron pulled up outside Wine Time. She clicked the motorbike stand onto the ground and swung a leather-clad leg onto the pavement, quickly followed by the other.
Kirsty’s throat went dry. This was her ultimate dream fantasy. Every fibre of her being wanted to jump up and down.
Saffron Oliver had come to take her for a ride. In her bike leathers.
Kirsty had officially won the lesbian lottery.
Saffron took off her helmet and shook her hair free.
Kirsty gulped. Her clit sprang to life.
Okay, this was totally unfair.
Saffron got the spare helmet from the bike’s sturdy black pannier and handed it to Kirsty. “Ready to go for the ride of your life?” She followed that up with an ironic wink.
This friend thing wasn’t going so well, was it? Kirsty shook her head. “Get on the bike, you moron. And by the way, you really need to work on your lines.” All lies, but making a joke of her feelings was the only way she could handle this. Almost like they were actually friends. Today, she was going to suspend reality and just enjoy the ride. Literally.
“Remember to wrap your arms around me tightly,” Saffron instructed. “I followed your advice when we went kayaking, so the same courtesy here, please. I don’t want you to fall off, okay?”
Kirsty nodded. She pulled down her helmet and wrapped her arms around Saffron, ignoring the purr of her body.
Then Saffron pulled away, the engine roared, and a whole other dimension opened up.
For the first ten minutes, Kirsty did nothing but hold on, too scared to look left or right. Was Saffron going as fast as it felt? Kirsty had no idea. When she eventually looked up, they were riding through glorious purple lavender fields, no other cars in sight. Kirsty risked a glance left, then right, then wobbled.
She pressed both arms tighter around Saffron. When Saffron pulled up in a lay-by, Kirsty’s thighs clenched.
She was straddling leather with Saffron.
It was something she might have dreamed about in another way, too.
Kirsty pushed the thought from her head.
Those were not helpful, friendly feelings.
She stumbled off the bike, dazed. She shook out her wobbly legs, then pulled off her helmet. The scent of lavender filled her nostrils, and she breathed it in, almost forgetting she must look a state. She ruffled her hair, trying to unclench her muscles. But even though she was still getting over her first bike ride, the tension was mixed with a thrill. Kirsty was being a rebel. She was living. That was definitely something her new friend had brought to the table. Since she’d met Saffron, her life wasn’t just about work.
New shoots were bursting through.
She liked it. She liked it a lot.
It almost took her back to a time when she had someone to share special moments with.
She missed that.
“Well?” Saffron shook out her blond locks again.
“How come you don’t look a sweaty mess like me? Did they teach you that on set, too?”
Saffron grinned. “You look gorgeous. A little sweaty, but in a sexy way.” She blushed. “I mean sexy in a friendly way.”
Kirsty rolled her eyes, but her heart sang. Saffron thought she was sexy? It wasn’t helpful, but it made her morning.
They walked over to the lay-by’s solitary bench and sat. Kirsty stretched out her arms and legs and turned her face to the sun. It was hot this morning, just like it had been every morning since Saffron’s arrival. She squinted, missing the disguise of her sunglasses. She was completely on show, but Saffron was, too.
“Are you going to tell me what you thought?”
Kirsty glanced right. “It was… scary. Luckily, you’re easy to hang on to. But it was definitely something I could get used to.”
Saffron quirked an eyebrow. “You’re already booking in for another ride?”
“You’ve got to get me home, so I hope so. I’ve got a cake tasting with Ginger at lunchtime.”
“I wouldn’t want to
keep my sister waiting.” A few moments went by before she spoke again. “You’ve got a very thoughtful look on your face.”
Kirsty gave her a slow smile. “I was just thinking this is nice. To be doing things again that aren’t work related. Sharing moments.” Why had she started down this road, and how was she going to back up and not make this sound awkward? “It’s something I’ve missed since I split with my ex.”
Not like that. Really, Kirsty? You’re out on a ride with Saffron Oliver and thinking about Anna?
“I don’t know her or what happened exactly, but she was dumb to let you go.” Saffron gave her a searching look then turned away. She crossed her legs. She must be baking in those leathers.
Kirsty chewed on her words. “My ex cheated on me. She lied to me. Which is why you lying to me about Echo touched a nerve. I don’t appreciate being lied to.”
Saffron nodded and turned to face Kirsty. “I get it. I’m sorry. What went on with us was short-lived, just like my feelings for her. I was stupid to get into it. Which is probably why I lied, because I should have known better. Not an excuse, but that’s why.” She reached out a hand to Kirsty’s arm and drew it back just as quickly. “I’m sorry I touched a nerve. I know how raw they can be.”
Kirsty sucked in her bottom lip, her heart beating fast. They were straying back into dangerous territory here, weren’t they? She jumped up, brushing down her jeans.
“Shall we get going?” Best to break this up now before it went too far. “I’ve got a cake tasting to get to.”
“Kirsty, have you tried my new cakes? They’re cream cheese frosted, like the ones they did on The Great British Bake Off last series. Pimped-up madeleines, as one of my customers called them earlier.” Betty grinned from ear to ear as she pointed at the display cabinet. “Can I tempt you? Your mum and dad would love them. Your dad’s in here most days buying something.”
Was he really? That was news. “No thanks, Betty. We’re just in here to order a cake for Ginger’s divorce party.” They all looked and smelled divine. Kirsty had always said bakery staff must be the most content workers on the planet, inhaling the aroma of cake all day long. The sweetness hung in the air like a warm blanket of love.
