He did too. His hands were on her waist as she slid down the horse’s side and landed on her feet. He held her a fraction longer than she needed for her to regain her balance. His warm breath fanned her ear, and she leaned back into him, just for a moment.
Max whickered, making Daisy jump, and the moment was lost. Pity.
‘Here,’ Noah said, bringing a Polo mint out of his pocket.
She took it from him, wondering if she had bad breath and Noah was trying to be tactful. She lifted it to her mouth.
‘It’s not for you, it’s for him. Most horses love mints,’ Noah said, and she went to hold it out to the horse, using her thumb and forefinger. ‘Not like that, like this.’
He held a mint out to Trigger, the Polo resting on the palm of his flat hand. She watched the horse suck it up, with whiskery mobile lips.
‘Always use the flat of your hand,’ he said, ‘otherwise they might nip. They don’t mean to, but it hurts all the same.’
She gave Max his, giggling as the horse’s lips nibbled at her hand, the soft hairs tickling her skin. He chomped and chewed, his mouth working as if the little mint was the size of a golf ball, then he blew down his nose at her.
Daisy was enchanted, despite the slobber on her hand. She wiped it off on his furry neck, then reached up to stroke his mobile ears. The horse accepted her caress, and Daisy felt emboldened enough to pat his long nose.
‘I think a hot chocolate is in order, and a sit by a warm fire,’ Noah suggested.
‘Yes, please.’ It sounded lovely, especially the warm bit, and they drove back down the lane and drew up outside a tiny little pub.
‘This used to be a favourite haunt of mine when I was a teenager,’ Noah said. ‘They used to let me have a sneaky pint, even though they knew I wasn’t old enough. It’s changed hands since then,’ he added, ‘but I hope they still do hot chocolate with marshmallows.’
They did – thick, rich, and creamy. Daisy sat beside the fire, logs crackling in the hearth, with a frothy moustache on her upper lip, and slowly thawed out. Noah took a sip from his mug and the pair of them sat laughing at each other.
‘Will you trust me to take you on a date again?’ he asked, suddenly serious, ‘or have I blown it?’
Daisy leaned forward and stared him straight in the eye. ‘I’ve had more fun today than I’ve had in a very long time,’ she said. ‘I’d like to do it again.’
‘Oh, we will,’ he promised, a smile stretching across his face, ‘but I don’t want you to think I’m a one-horse wonder, and I’ve got nothing else up my sleeve. One horse… get it?’ He giggled like a small boy and Daisy shook her head.
‘You’ve got the most awful line in puns,’ she said, and Noah pretended to look hurt.
‘We can’t all be a whizz with words, Daisy Jones. I have to work with what I’ve got.’
Without warning, the atmosphere sobered, and Noah leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.
‘You’ve got a silly cream moustache,’ he told her.
She put her fingers to her face and was about to wipe it away, when he said, ‘I’d like to lick it off.’
Oh. Well. Good. Daisy’s thoughts leapt around in her head like a Springer Spaniel in a field.
‘Too much?’ he asked.
She shook her head.
‘Too soon?’
She shook her head again.
‘May I?’
‘Please.’ She tried to aim for a seductive purr, but it came out a breathy squawk.
He raised himself out of his chair, stretched right across the table and his tongue came out to gently lick away the cream.
She froze.
Never had any man done anything so erotic to her before. The tip of his tongue barely touched her, but her skin flamed all the same, and she was glad she was sitting down as her insides liquefied.
He drew back slightly, and Daisy saw a trace of white froth on the tip of his tongue, before it slipped back between his lips. Her own lips parted in naked desire, then his mouth was on hers, and she lost herself in his kiss.
‘Excuse me, but we don’t allow that kind of lewd behaviour in here,’ a voice said, and they broke apart to see the landlord, a little round man resembling a barrel of the real ale he served, hands on hips, staring at them with a furious look on his face.
‘What kind of lewd behaviour do you allow?’ Noah equipped, and Daisy giggled.
Noah had one hand behind her head where he’d drawn her close, and his fingers were buried in her dishevelled chignon. He took a moment to disentangle himself, allowing time for Daisy’s heart rate to return to a semblance of normality. It still beat harder and faster than it should, but at least it was no longer threatening to leap out of her chest. Her breathing was a bit heavier than usual though, and heat radiated outwards from somewhere south of her stomach.
She tried to blame it on her throbbing thighs, but she had a sneaking suspicion they weren’t throbbing just because of the riding.
Noah sat back in his chair and they finished their drinks in silence. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her and all she could think about was their hungry depths and the desire pulling her down into them. His lips were slightly parted and she remembered every second of them on hers, the feel of him, the smell of him.
‘I want to do that again,’ he said, finally.
‘So do I.’
‘We can’t,’ he replied, and Daisy almost burst into tears. Why take her out on a date at all, if his medical ethics didn’t allow it.
But then he added, ‘Because if we do, I won’t be able to stop there.’
Oh? Oh! She didn’t want him to stop either. She would have been quite happy to let him ravish her in front of the fire, if they didn’t have an audience.
‘I don’t want you to think I’m the type of guy who sleeps with a girl on a first date,’ he continued.
I don’t care if you are, Daisy wanted to say. Take me, take me! her heart yelled. Actually, it wasn’t her heart doing the yelling, it was something much lower down, and she realised she hadn’t felt like this in a long time. Maybe never.
‘I want to get to know you first,’ he was saying.
She wanted to get to know him, too, but the woman part of her argued that they could just as easily get to know each other in bed, whilst they were doing unspeakably sexy things to each other, as they could by sitting in a pub talking.
‘Okay,’ was all she managed to get out.
Here was the type of man she dreamed of, one who wanted her mind, not her body, and all she could do was pout because he wasn’t going to whisk her off to bed.
Damn him!
Chapter 28
‘How did it go with Dr Loveheart?’ Zoe asked, when Daisy staggered back into her sister-in-law’s house, wondering if she’d ever be able to walk properly again. Who knew riding was so physical? Though maybe she was feeling wobbly because of the kiss, and Noah’s instructions that she should have a hot bath and massage her thighs whilst she was in it, left her wishing he’d be the one to do the massaging.
She was about to tell Zoe, when her mother bustled into the room.
‘About time, young lady,’ Sandra said. ‘I’ve got bingo to go to. Oh, and I forgot, to tell you, but some man called earlier.’
‘Some man?’
‘Said it was about an office junior’s job.’
‘He phoned here?’ Daisy could have sworn she’d put her mobile and her mother’s landline number on her CV.
‘No, silly, he phoned me.’
‘You? Have you applied for a job?’
‘Why would I do something like that? I’ve got a job already – looking after you lot. He wants you to ring him back. I’ve got the number somewhere.’
Daisy did a quick mental search through the numerous jobs she’d applied for and came to the conclusion this one must be for the builders’ merchants. She checked the time – five pm – and hoped she wasn’t too late. Whenever Freddie had gone to a builders’ merchants (ostensibly to pick up pa
tio slabs or paint, but in hindsight, Daisy wondered if it had been to ogle the builders themselves), he’d always gone early because they were often shut when normal people were just coming home from work.
Daisy took the piece of paper from her mother and tried to read the scrawl.
Mr Bradley, or was it Bartley? And was that a five or a three. Mr Bradley, she decided, as she keyed his number into her mobile.
‘Hi, I’m Daisy Jones. I applied for the office junior role you’re advertising?’
‘Bit old, aren’t you?’ The voice on the other end was deep and gruff, and sounded rather testy.
‘Pardon?’
‘I said, you’re a bit old. From your date of birth, I worked out you must be thirty.’
‘Yes, um, that’s right.’
‘Hmm. Got any experience?’
‘A bit, but the advert said, “no experience necessary”.’
‘I was expecting school leavers to apply,’ he said. ‘They don’t usually have any experience.’
‘And have they?’
‘Have who done what?’
‘Have school leavers applied?’
‘Yes.’
So why phone her?
‘I’m looking to retrain,’ Daisy said, cautiously. ‘I can answer the phone, I’m used to dealing with people,’ (was she?) ‘and can use Word and Excel,’ (she’d have to google Excel), ‘and as you can see, I’m used to using email.’
‘Do you know the difference between sharp sand and fine sand?’ he barked.
‘No, but I’m a fast learner, and I’ve got the advantage of maturity on my side,’ she added, getting into her stride.
Was this an interview? It certainly felt like one, even if it was being conducted over the phone.
‘I see you’ve been working for Caring Cards. Good with your hands, are you?’
‘Eh?’
‘Making cards.’
‘Ah, no, I didn’t make them myself, I er…’ Oh dear, there was no choice, she was going to have to tell Mr Bradley exactly what she’d done at Caring Cards. ‘…constructed the verses. As well as other things.’
‘Like what?’
Daisy ran through a list of the other staff member’s roles. Design? Nope. Accounts? Nah, she couldn’t add up to save her life, and as for stuff like VAT and tax – ug. Human resources? Hmm, all Joyce had seemed to do was send out wage slips and calculate holiday entitlement.
Ah! ‘Part of my role was to explore new markets,’ she said, knowing full well she was talking about visiting any new clothes shops as soon as they opened, so it wasn’t strictly a lie, was it? It just didn’t have anything remotely to do with her former job.
‘What sort of markets?’
Time to lie. Daisy rattled off a list of supermarkets and chain stores – anywhere she could think of which sold greeting cards. Getting into the swing of it, she added, ‘It was my job to ensure our stockists were kept supplied with the right cards at the right time – no point in sending them Mother’s Day cards at Valentines,’ she chortled. ‘I also contacted new outlets and arranged a salesman to call.’
‘Were you any good at it?’
‘Yes,’ she replied, confidently.
‘Oh, all right, then. Come in on Monday for a proper interview, so I can check you over. You’ve got to be better than the last girl – moody as hell, she was, and she dressed like she was going to a funeral. Always crying over some lad or another. She used to put the customers off. They don’t want some bird blubbing when she’s weighing out a pound of nails.’
‘That’s my point exactly, Mr Bradley. ‘You won’t get any of that with me.’
‘Got any kids?’
What? ‘No.’
‘Any plans on having some?’
Daisy was speechless. She was pretty sure that prospective employers weren’t allowed to ask those kind of questions – discrimination, and all that.
‘No,’ she replied somewhat stiffly. Bet he wouldn’t ask a man that question.
‘I’ve got three, and two grandchildren with another on the way. You don’t want to leave it too late.’ How dare he make a comment about when she should have children!
‘I’m sorry?’ she said, her tone frostier than a bag of peas in a freezer.
‘Before coming in on Monday. The earlier the better, in fact, say, eight-thirty?’
‘Oh, yes, of course. Eight-thirty, it is.’
‘That’ll give me a chance to see to the early customers. Can you make tea?’
‘Yes, I can.’ At last, a question she could answer truthfully.
‘Great. See you then.’ He rang off, leaving Daisy staring at her phone with a bemused expression.
‘Job interview,’ she said, unnecessarily to Zoe. Sandra had already waltzed out of the door. ‘Um… where’s David?’ Daisy asked suddenly.
‘Upstairs,’ Zoe replied, with a tinge of pride in her voice. ‘He can get up and down them now. And the wheelchair has gone back. They collected it when you were out, on your date. You’ve got to tell me all about it, I’m going stir crazy.’
‘How did David get up the stairs?’
‘On his bottom, backwards. Your mother said he used to get up them the same way when he was little.’
Things were starting to look up, Daisy thought. She’d got a boyfriend (ish), a new job (ish), and maybe she’d be able to relinquish her caring duties and move back home soon.
She hesitated. Maybe the last one wasn’t quite so good. After all, who in their right mind would want to move back in with their mother and nan?
But, like the old song says, two out of three ain’t bad.
Chapter 29
‘A zoo?’ Daisy repeated. As dates go, a zoo wasn’t bad, but they’d still not managed the traditional dinner and drinks scenario yet, because Noah seemed to be working most evenings.
‘I thought your children might enjoy it,’ Noah said.
Oh shit!
‘How old are they?’ he continued. ‘What are their names? You haven’t said anything about them, and I realise you don’t want to go introducing them to every man you go out with – not that I’m saying you go out with lots of men… Bugger! I’m doing it again, aren’t I?’ A low, drawn-out sigh wafted down the phone. ‘Why am I only like this around you?’ Noah asked. ‘I’m perfectly normal with everyone else, honest.’ Another sigh. ‘Look, you don’t have to bring them, though I would be happy if you did, but if you don’t want to, that’s not a problem either, but please come on your own anyway.’
‘Noah, I… er… I’ve got something to tell you.’ She had no idea how he was going to take this, but surely it wouldn’t be too badly. It would be more difficult if the situation was the other way around, and she had to confess to having a couple of children hidden away at home after not mentioning them before now.
Noah was strangely silent.
‘You know we keep getting off on the wrong foot…?’ Daisy began.
‘You don’t have to say any more, I understand.’
‘What do you understand?’
‘You don’t think I’m father material,’ he stated flatly. ‘And you might be right. What do I know about kids? I know a lot about their anatomy, but I don’t really know kids, like how to talk to them, or how to interreact with them.’
‘Neither do I.’ Where on earth was all this coming from?
‘Don’t keep putting yourself down. I bet you’re a brilliant mum!’ Noah said.
‘That’s what I want to talk to you about – I’m not a mum at all,’ she blurted and waited for a response. It was a long time coming.
‘Do they live with their father?’ Noah finally asked.
‘They don’t live anywhere, because I haven’t got any.’
‘I don’t understand, you said you had two.’
‘I was being flippant, and when I said I needed to get a baby-sitter, I meant for David and Zoe. To be honest, I’d forgotten I’d said it.’
‘Oh.’ He sounded rather put out. ‘Is there anything else I sho
uld know?’
‘Not that I can think of.’ She hunted around for something to lift the mood. ‘I don’t like peanut butter or Marmite.’
‘I have a son,’ he said, abruptly.
‘You do?’ That was a surprise. ‘I thought you said you don’t know how to interreact with kids.’
‘I don’t.’
It was Daisy’s turn not to understand.
‘He lives with his mother in Brighton,’ Noah went on to say. ‘I only see him a few times a year.’
Had he hoped that her “children” would help him hone his parenting skills? And was he disappointed to discover she didn’t in fact have any?
‘I do like kids,’ he added, ‘I’m just a bit awkward around them.’
‘Are you disappointed?’ she asked. The time for misconstrued conversations was over. The pair of them needed to be clear and honest with each other.
‘Yes, very,’ he said.
Daisy scowled, trying to think back to when he asked her to go to dinner with him – it was definitely before she’d told him she’d needed to sort out a baby-sitter, so it wasn’t as if he’d only asked her out to practice being a daddy on her children. She actually felt quite cross for those imaginary kids. They deserved better.
‘…and when she said she was staying there permanently, I was devastated.’
‘Come again?’
‘When Kate said she was moving to Brighton I was upset,’ he said. ‘Disappointed didn’t cover it.’
‘Kate is…?’
‘Connor’s mother, yes.’
Ah, Connor must be the son, and Kate the ex. A surge of unexpected dislike and jealousy flooded through her. Then she realised what he’d been saying; it wasn’t Daisy’s lack of offspring which he was disappointed about, it was his ex taking his son all the way to Brighton.
‘Can you come to the zoo, or not?’ he asked, and she blinked at the abrupt change of subject.
‘When?’
‘Now, of course!’
Daisy was astounded. Talk about being impulsive.
‘I suppose…’ she said. With David now more mobile and able to get himself into and out of bed, (ditto the bathroom – but she really didn’t want to think too deeply about that), Daisy’s services weren’t called on so frequently. She still insisted on doing the housework, but Zoe was gradually taking over the cooking once more, and all three of them were thankful for that, though Zoe was teaching Daisy, and Daisy was pleased with her increasing expertise in the kitchen.
A Very Lucky Christmas Page 19
