Daring to Date Her Ex

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Daring to Date Her Ex Page 8

by Annie Claydon


  ‘Yes. Where are we going?’ She picked up the cardigan that Ava had lent her in case the evening became too chilly for just a summer dress and red shoes. Lucas could have thought of a better way to keep her warm, but he had to admit that Ava’s approach was more practical.

  ‘I’ve nothing in mind. Shall we go with the flow?’ For the last seven years he’d known exactly where he was going, what route he would take and what time he was expected back. Even if they were just going out for a bite to eat, going with the flow seemed deliciously like old times.

  ‘Sounds good.’

  * * *

  They’d decided on a Greek restaurant, a little off the beaten track. Sitting at a small wobbly table, they feasted on fresh sardines, baked with oregano and lemon juice and served with salad.

  ‘First impressions.’ She grinned at him and Lucas remembered the old game they used to play. ‘Greece.’

  ‘The sky. And the turquoise blue sea.’

  She nodded. ‘France?’

  ‘That blasted ferry. When we got stuck for hours.’ She laughed at the memory and Lucas tried one of his own. ‘Bangladesh?’

  She thought for a moment. ‘Colour. Wonderful henna shades that you don’t find here. Heat. Gastroenteritis.’

  ‘You were sick?’

  ‘Not the first time.’ Lucas could see by the flash of alarm in her eyes that she’d already said more than she meant to.

  ‘You’ve been more than once?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You never mentioned it.’

  She raised an eyebrow in surprise. Had she thought for one minute that he hadn’t been paying attention these past weeks? ‘Didn’t I?’

  Her attention was diverted by a clatter in the corner, or maybe she just wanted to change the subject. ‘Looks as if there’s going to be singing.’ A young man was fussing over the setting up of a microphone and the positioning of speakers.

  When the bouzouki began to play, there was little prospect of any more conversation. Lucas pulled his chair around next to hers to watch the dancing, and the waiter delivered two small cups of wickedly strong espresso with tall glasses of water.

  She looked so beautiful, and the beat of the music was insistent. Lucas could do nothing else. He got to his feet, taking Thea’s hand, and asked her to dance. Then she was in his arms in the cramped space, bumping into tables and avoiding the feet of other dancers. Bliss. Pure, unadulterated bliss.

  * * *

  Thea blamed it on the red shoes. Or the music, or the sudden release from day-to-day cares that sometimes seemed to be all there was to life. At the moment, she wasn’t ready to shoulder any of the blame herself.

  Just for tonight no one could refuse to dance when they were wearing red shoes, and no one could sit down again after the first dance, even if it did last for a good ten minutes, the singers clearly reluctant to allow the crush of dancers to rest. It might be more like an assault course than a dance floor, but Lucas was there. The rhythm of his body still remembered after all these years. His smell. The way he pulled her in, his hand resting lightly on her waist but somehow managing to insinuate that it might move at any moment and then she’d be lost.

  Finally the singer took a break and made for the bar. As an impromptu karaoke session got started, Lucas paid the bill and walked her to the car, opening the passenger door and helping her in, even though she could manage perfectly well for herself.

  He switched the radio on, and music came from four directions. Late-night songs in the car. They’d used to wind the windows down and bawl the words out together. Now it was a little different.

  Suddenly the car screeched to a halt. The opening bars of a familiar song were playing and Lucas turned the volume up. Then he was at the passenger door and beckoning her out of her seat.

  ‘Lucas, no.’ People passing by on the wide pavement were already looking their way.

  ‘Tell me again. You could try making it a little more convincing this time.’

  She couldn’t. Not tonight. When she got out of the car she found herself in his arms. And now that she wasn’t concentrating on not bumping into anyone else, there was only Lucas.

  Her hand moved to his shoulder, her fingers delighting in the smooth ripple of movement. He’d filled out since they’d danced all night together, but all of it was muscle. And he hadn’t lost any of the supple rhythm, which had delighted her so then and which made it impossible for her to refuse him now.

  ‘People are looking.’ She rested her head against his chest.

  ‘What people?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ They were somewhere else, on an uneventful Saturday evening, staring as two people danced together on the street. As far away from them as if they were in another dimension.

  ‘Since we’re alone…can you still dip?’

  ‘I can dip. Further than you can, any day. You’re not as young as you were.’

  She felt a chuckle reverberate through his chest. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘You’re just too afraid to find out.’

  That was the way it had always been with her and Lucas. He would dare something, and she’d dare him back, an inch further. It could be pleasure or work, but the same rules always applied. He’d take her to the very edge, but he’d be there with her, protecting her.

  ‘Ready?’ His lips brushed her ear and she shivered.

  ‘Are you?’

  She knew just when the beat of the song would allow for a long, low dip. He bent her backwards, holding her tight. As she felt her balance change, one leg curled around his, and her body moved tight against his. It was no surprise to find that he was just as aroused as she was.

  ‘That all you can manage?’

  In answer, he tipped her back another couple of inches, and she felt his lips brush against her neck. Then she was back straight again, pressed helplessly against him, caught in Lucas and the music.

  ‘Good to see you’re still up for making a spectacle of yourself,’ he whispered into her ear, and suddenly the world jolted back into sharp focus. Passers-by were slowing to look, and one couple had even stopped briefly and added a couple of dance steps of their own to the mix. People were smiling.

  She nestled in close to Lucas, safe in his arms. Somehow the looks of these strangers weren’t so bad with him there to protect her. The song on the radio segued into another old favourite and she stayed right where she was.

  ‘You want to come back to mine?’

  ‘I have to. My other clothes are still in Ava’s room.’ Folded neatly on a chair, beckoning her back into reality.

  ‘That’s not an answer. Do you want to come back? Ava’s staying over with my parents, she always does after bridge nights.’

  ‘For coffee?’

  ‘Yeah, for coffee.’ He leaned in close again. ‘My coffee’s not only fair trade, it’s also made completely without expectations.’

  The choice of whether this evening would finish in his bed or whether they’d remain old acquaintances, catching up on lost time, was clearly hers. And perhaps they were old enough friends to be able to do that and not face the consequences.

  ‘Okay, then. Let’s find out what expectation-free coffee tastes like.’

  He chuckled quietly, circling back towards the open door of the car. ‘Yeah. Let’s find out.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  THEY SAT ON the patio, separated by two glasses of champagne and a large bowl of strawberries. Thea pulled the stalk from one, and dropped it into her glass, and Lucas winced.

  ‘You always did know how to ruin a good glass of champagne.’

  She laughed. ‘I like way it makes the bubbles smell. And the contents of your fridge have definitely improved over the years.’

  ‘More spare cash. And having a teenager in the house. When Ava’s friends come over, it’s like being invaded by locusts.’

  ‘And they have strawberries and champagne?’ Thea was teasing, but she wanted to know who else Lucas might have had in mind when he’d bought the bottle tha
t he’d drawn out from under the kitchen counter and put to chill.

  He chuckled and provided the answer she was looking for. ‘The champagne’s left over from the party we threw when my dad retired, two years ago.’

  ‘He retired? He always seemed so involved with his law practice.’

  ‘It was his baby. He founded it and built it up, and he loved the law. But when Sam died and Mum got sick, he changed. When sixty came round, he said that he wanted to concentrate on the family.’

  ‘I can understand that. The decision worked for him?’

  ‘Yeah. It worked for him.’

  They sat for a while in companionable silence. Thea slipped off her shoes, brushing her toes across the rough paving stones, shivering as the cool kiss of the evening air touched her arms.

  ‘Cold? I’ll fetch you a sweater.’

  It was now or never, and suddenly never again seemed too hard to contemplate. Her gaze found his, and they were locked together, each understanding what the other wanted.

  ‘Or you could come here. I’ll keep you warm.’ His lips curved into a smile, and when Thea rounded the table to stand between his outstretched legs, he reached for her, pulling her down onto his lap.

  ‘That’s better.’ She curled up in his arms.

  ‘Much.’ He reached for her champagne. ‘Drink?’

  ‘Yes.’ Thea grinned and tapped her mouth with one finger. ‘Right there.’

  ‘Your wish…’ He left the sentence unfinished but there was no doubt that whatever she wanted was his command right now. He held the glass to her lips, and she took a sip.

  ‘Thank you. Strawberry?’

  ‘Thought you’d never ask.’

  She leaned forward, finding the best in the bowl and hulling it carefully, letting him watch and wait. He took a bite and she caught the juice that dribbled down his chin with her finger. She brushed the remainder of the fruit against his lips, snatching it away when he opened his mouth, and popping it into her own.

  ‘Oh! So that’s the way it goes, eh?’ He caught her wrist, pulling her hand back to his mouth and sucking the last remains of the juice from her fingers. ‘You taste sweet.’

  Slowly he reached for her, each second a jewel, sparkling in the darkness. He kissed her, a delicious cocktail of tenderness and longing. Lucas knew her better than any man alive, and he could touch her soul if he wanted to. That kiss made it very clear that he did want to.

  She was almost afraid.

  Forget the almost. She was afraid. Losing Lucas the first time had broken her heart. Taking him back only put her in the firing line all over again.

  * * *

  She tasted of strawberries and champagne, and something warm and wild, which stripped away everything other than the urgent need to lie down beside her. He felt her tremble in his arms, and he told himself that was just the emotion of the moment. Then she hesitated.

  He knew her too well. When Thea made up her mind to do something, she didn’t hesitate, not unless she was playing for time. She kissed him again, but drew back almost immediately.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  She seemed almost not to hear him for a moment. Never a good sign.

  ‘Nothing.’

  He curled his arms around her, holding her tight against his chest. It was time for a bit of honesty. ‘You think this is a mistake, don’t you?’

  ‘Not necessarily.’ She didn’t move. ‘I’ve made worse.’

  ‘That’s good to know. What do you class as a worse mistake than sleeping with me?’

  She laughed quietly. ‘There are lots of mistakes worse than that.’

  ‘Yeah, right.’ Something was wrong. Something that she wouldn’t talk about. ‘Tell me, Thea.’

  ‘Tell you what?’ She tried to pretend that she didn’t know what he was talking about.

  ‘You know. Tell me.’

  She was on her feet now, stepping over the stone kerb of the patio and onto the grass. Thea always had liked walking barefoot on grass. She took a couple of paces and then turned back towards him. ‘Nothing. There’s nothing.’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’

  Something about the way she was meandering back and forth on the grass in front of him, like a broken doll, drove Lucas to his feet. He tried to catch her hand but she spun away from him, stretching her arms out, as if she were a wraith that could melt into the cool night air.

  ‘I’m an ex-con. You know that?’ There was a sad, mocking tone to her voice. Something that spoke of unbearable misery.

  He could back off and hope she snapped out of this… No. He’d backed away once, when her friends had told him she didn’t want to speak to him. That was a mistake that Lucas never could—never would—repeat.

  ‘Thea. Stop it.’ He took her firmly by the shoulders. ‘Stop it now. Nothing’s so bad that you have to walk away from me. There’s nothing you can tell me that I won’t understand.’

  ‘Maybe I don’t understand.’ She was shivering now in the chill of the night, but her eyes were focussed on his face. The Thea who had retreated from him was battling her way back to the surface.

  ‘Then perhaps I can. Give me a chance, and I won’t let you down.’ He wrapped his arms around her.

  ‘I’m cold, Lucas.’

  ‘Come inside, then.’

  She followed him through the kitchen and into the sitting room, curling her legs underneath her as she sat down in a chair by the fireplace. She seemed to be holding herself together, and Lucas hoped that she wouldn’t draw back at the last moment.

  ‘When I went to Bangladesh, I knew I had to go back. It’s a place of so many opposites. The people there…there’s so much that they need, and yet in some ways they have more than we do.’

  ‘And you did. Go back?’

  She nodded, staring at her hands in her lap. ‘Yes, I did my two year foundation training in Leicester, and I went back. I worked in a TB clinic in a rural area near Dhaka for two years. It was harder than I could ever have imagined, and more rewarding than I could have ever dreamed.’

  ‘If I say that I envied you…’

  She looked up at him. ‘Then I’d say that you haven’t heard the whole story. One evening a young girl came to the clinic. She’d run away from her husband, who’d beaten her pretty badly. She’d run away before, back to her family, but they’d sent her back to him. She was fifteen years old, and pregnant.’

  ‘What did you do?’ Lucas tried to drive the image of Ava from his head. Just a year younger than a girl who’d seen more than anyone should have to.

  ‘I should have passed her over to the hospital authorities and let them work things out.’ She shrugged. ‘As foreign aid workers, we had to be careful not to interfere in cultural matters. But I knew that she’d probably end up either back with her husband or in disgrace with her family, and I couldn’t just watch that happen. So I hid her.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘I was living in a house with two Australian nurses. They were both away so I took her home. Gave her something to eat and put her to bed. She was so frightened that I’d turn her over to the police; her husband’s cousin was the chief of police for the area. I found a women’s shelter in Dhaka and arranged a place for her there, and two days later I borrowed a car and took her to the railway station. I bought her a ticket and gave her what money I had, and put her on the train.’

  ‘So she got away safely?’ Lucas was clawing for some part of a happy ending here, because he knew from Thea’s face that there was more, and it wasn’t good.

  ‘I don’t know. The woman from the shelter was meant to be meeting her at the other end…’ She shrugged. ‘I never knew. Her husband had come to the clinic, looking for her, and I thought I’d done a pretty good job of convincing him that I didn’t know where she was. But when I arrived back from the station he’d called in the police and they’d searched the house. They arrested me.’

  ‘For helping a fifteen-year-old girl who shouldn’t have been married in the first place?’
>
  ‘It happens. The official marriage age in Bangladesh for girls is eighteen, but fifty per cent of young women are married before that age.’ Her voice became calm. As if the cold, hard statistic was somehow protecting her.

  She couldn’t retreat from it now. Somehow he had to keep her in touch with her feelings, however devastating.

  ‘What happened to you then?’ She shook her head, and Lucas rose, kneeling in front of her, taking hold of her hand. ‘What happened to you then, Thea?’

  ‘They locked me up. The husband said I’d kidnapped the girl.’

  ‘What was her name, Thea? Say her name.’

  The pain in her eyes was almost unbearable. ‘Ayesha.’

  ‘And they wanted you to tell them where she was?’

  ‘Yes. They questioned me the next day, for hours. They said I’d be charged and I’d go to prison for a long time.’

  ‘Did they hurt you?’

  She looked up at him, a ghost of a grim smile on her face. ‘No, they didn’t beat me up or anything. Prisons and police cells in Bangladesh aren’t very nice places, but they treated me fairly and I had a lawyer. Not that he did very much. Just told me that I ought to say where Ayesha was.’

  Perhaps this was the thing that she’d hidden all these years. The guilt of betraying a helpless child.

  ‘I’m not sure I would have been brave enough to even try to hold out against them.’

  ‘I knew that if it ever came to trial I’d have to defend myself. But in the meantime I tried to convince myself that I really didn’t know where she was. Repeated it to myself over and over again at night.’

  The words hit Lucas like a blow to the chest. Thea hadn’t told them. She’d locked herself away behind a protective shell, which had become as much of a prison to her as physical walls. ‘How long…?’

  ‘Two weeks. It wasn’t so bad.’

  ‘Don’t say that. I’m not stupid, I know it must have been horrible.’

  She nodded. ‘There were rats. At night they used to turn the lights out and I could hear them scratching in the dark. I just had a mattress to sleep on, and it smelled. There wasn’t enough water to wash properly. And they just kept shouting questions at me.’

 

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