by Robyn Neeley
“Sit up,” he said, then leaned down to slide the garment off her legs, dropping it to the floor so she lay in only her bra and knickers. Instinctively she put a hand over the scars on her right leg, where a chunk of flesh was missing, before he moved it away, kissing the twisted skin.
Clutching the thin cotton of his shirt, her fingers fumbled on the buttons as she pulled them loose, sliding her hands against his warm, smooth chest and hard, muscular stomach. The bed dipped as he lay beside her, his body silhouetted against the window, skin against hers as he turned to face her. Supporting herself on her elbow, she pressed her mouth hard against his lips, the belt on his jeans digging into her stomach. As he eased down the cups on her bra, he flicked his tongue against her nipples and she squirmed.
Reaching for his belt, she undid the clasp, followed by the button and zip; sitting up, Daniel pushed his jeans down and onto the floor. Through the fabric of his shorts, she caressed him as he unclipped her bra and pulled it off, she shivered, then his hands were sliding over her again, tracing across the skin, learning the position of every dip and crease. His fingers brushed her knickers, sliding tantalizingly between her legs while she drew in a sharp breath, easing her knees apart so he could touch her.
Hooking his hands into the elastic, he drew her pants down and she kicked them off her feet. As he removed his shorts, she leaned down and took him in her mouth, tracing her tongue and lips up him, licking the tip while he moaned and she smiled, loving his loss of control. Then he turned, moving her tenderly back onto the pillow, before his hair tickled her thighs and mouth pressed against her intimate parts, spreading her with his fingers so he could caress her labia and clitoris with his tongue.
She groaned, wiggling beneath him, unable to move; the pressure of his forearms keeping her down as she drew in her breath with sharp gasps. Then he turned to lay beside her and lifted her left leg over his hip, sinking deep into her, wrapping his arms tight over her shoulders as they rocked together until she could bear it no more and gasping, she buried her face against his neck as her hips bucked and with a groan, he followed suit.
Sweating, panting, she rested against him, her legs still parted. A dull ache started up her right one and he loosened his arms, helping her lie back on the covers. Resting beside her, he pulled the duvet free and draped it back over her, lying down and holding her close.
Breathing deep, she moved her head on his shoulder, sweat tricking down her forehead, aching and hot between her legs. He inclined his head to rest against her, and she closed her eyes, hearing only the thudding of his heart.
The unaccustomed weight woke her, his arm draped over her chest, leg hooked over hers. Wiggling out from under him, she sat up, looking down at his head on the pillow — eyes closed and eyelashes resting on his cheek. His hair lay tangled and one hand gripped the duvet. Pale morning light flooded in the window and she glanced at the clock: six A.M. She hadn’t intended to fall asleep with him; it seemed more personal than making love, but she could hardly have asked him to leave.
It had been a long time since she woke with a man in her bed and even longer since it was a person she wanted there. Not for two years in fact, when they’d lain together the night before the accident. Life had been so much simpler then. Did it always get more complicated as you got older, or was it just their lives that became so confused? Staring at him, she had the urge to kiss his lips, draw her hand one last time over his shoulders. Because this couldn’t happen again, it shouldn’t have happened this time. The feelings she had for him were too strong to mess with, her heart would be left broken again.
Sliding out of bed, she closed her eyes, blinking back hot tears. Up to now, she thought the reason she couldn’t settle down was because she hadn’t met the right person yet, but she knew now that she’d never meet the right one. Daniel was the only man she wanted to share her life with, and it could never work between them. With virtually no family, she would always be alone, tending her shop and sitting on the harbour benches watching the sailing boats, thinking about how things could have been.
Shaking her head, she grabbed her dressing gown and wrapped it around her, tying the cord tight. She wouldn’t think like that, it would only make her depressed and there was no need to be, she had friends, very good ones, and a community that cared and supported her. That was more than many people had. All right, so she couldn’t have Daniel, but neither could most people either, unless he was intending on playing around a lot.
Smiling, she grabbed hold of the handrail and made her way through to the hall, to collect her stick, then to the kitchen for coffee. Sinking onto a stool and switching on the kettle, she sighed.
“Are you OK?” Daniel said, from the doorway.
She looked up as he strode into the room wearing his jeans and an unfastened shirt. She looked at his chest, clasping her hands together to resist the urge to trail her fingers over him as she had done last night. Already it seemed like a dream, the cold light of the morning driving away the feel of his skin and taste of him from her memory, replacing it with confused images of limbs flickering under the moonlight.
Standing up, she poured out two cups of coffee and handed him one.
“Are you free today?” he said. “I thought we could wrap up and go for walk on the cliff. Stop for lunch in a pub?” His fingers touched her arm, stroking in little circles across her wrist.
She shrank back and he frowned. “Carly?”
“I can’t today,” she said, knowing her voice sounded cold.
He stared at her, his mouth tightening into a line. “Is that a no just for today, or for any other day too?”
“Any other.” Her voice trembled and she looked away from his grey eyes, so dark and angry.
“And last night?”
She swallowed. “It was a one off, Daniel, I never intended for it to mean anything.”
“Didn’t you?” He slammed his cup on the work surface. “I would have preferred you to have told me that last night.”
“Because you would have refused me and returned home?”
“Yes, actually, I would have, I’m not that desperate. There were a lot of other girls I could have gone home with last night, but I didn’t want them, I wanted you. I have since I arrived.”
“Which was three days ago. Your relationship with Imogen finished and you came back here to get over her, deciding the best way was to take up with the girl you left behind.”
“My relationship with Imogen failed because I never loved her, not in the way I did you, and she knew it. She’s a lovely girl, sweet and kind, but she wasn’t the one I wanted to marry. There’s only been one girl I wanted to do that with, and that was you.”
Wearily, she leant back against the counter, needing him to leave so she could throw herself onto her bed and weep. Bringing him back here had been a terrible mistake. They could have been friends again, but not now. The feelings they had for each other were too strong, even two years apart hadn’t managed to diminish them.
When he wasn’t with her, resentment bubbled up inside her. It would be impossible to live with him, waving him off every day to training and races — the things that had once made up her own life. Each time she saw his medals on the mantelpiece, it would remind her that she lacked her own. And even more important, that she ought to be able to walk down an icy street, dance and run. She shouldn’t be in constant pain, her life shouldn’t be such a struggle. All of this she held against him, and it did her no credit, because she should forgive him and the fact she could not left her aware that she wasn’t the person she ought to be.
“I can’t do this,” she said, “I can’t do us, too much has happened and it’s time we both moved on.”
“All right, if that’s the way you feel. But if you want me to open your Winter Gala, I’m holding you to the promise of coming with me tomorrow to take the boat back.”
�
��Why?”
“Because I don’t believe it’s over between us, not yet. Too much has happened, you’re right, and we need to sort it out. I can’t move on until I know exactly why you rejected me two years ago.”
He strode out her kitchen and the sound of the front door slamming, echoed down the hall. Dropping her head into her arms, Carly let tears stream unchecked down her face. Harder to bear than his anger had been the expression of pain in his eyes; she’d hurt him unbearably, and the fact he’d hurt her too brought no comfort.
• • •
Slumped against her shop counter, Carly looked at Linda. “What else can I do?” she said.
“Just refuse, Carly, he can’t force you to go with him,” her friend said, drumming the shop counter with her fingers.
“I don’t think he’s planning on kidnapping me.”
“Why are you going to Padstow? It can’t just be due to the gala, Daniel’s a great person to open it, but we didn’t even know last week that he was going to return.”
“If we advertise that he’s going to be part of it, we’ll get more visitors.” Carly switched on the coffee machine. “But you’re right, that’s not why I’m going, I’ve never been into selling myself. I just feel I owe it to him.”
“Owe him?” Linda’s mouth dropped open.
“I should put it all behind me. It was an accident, and it’s separated him from his family and friends for two years. It’s easy to blame him, but I’m at fault too.”
“I think you’re going because you still love him.”
Carly jerked her head up, but her friend looked at her through narrowed eyes.
“Be careful,” Linda said. “He has the means to hurt you terribly, it’s taken you a long time to get to this point, where I see you laughing and smiling. Don’t let him take it away from you again. If you can work it out, then great. You’re perfect together, but what will you do if it doesn’t?”
“That’s why I’m not getting involved with him.”
“And last night?”
“He walked me home.”
“It’s common knowledge he stayed the night with you. I had to share a taxi home with Ali. He left her at the sailing club, nine months pregnant.”
“Oh no.” She clapped a hand to her mouth. “I’d better apologise to her. Is she all right?”
“It’s her brother who needs to apologise; don’t worry, she’s fine, looked quite amused actually, but it’s out of character for Daniel. Either he’s changed completely in the time he’s been away, or got so caught up in thinking about you, he forgot her.”
Carly slammed the till shut and took her keys from the shelf.
“I’ve got to run now, thanks for looking after the place. When your mum drops Jack off, he can have couple of the chocolate mice from the window display, I promised them to him.”
“You’ll be lucky if that’s all he goes home with.” Linda smiled. “Have a good day, and I hope you get it sorted out with Daniel. You were good together.”
“Thanks.” Carly pulled her coat on, grabbed her cane and went out the door.
A truck waited opposite, attached to a large trailer holding a boat, covered by a blue tarpaulin. Resting on her stick, she stepped cautiously over the icy road; Daniel would have to drive carefully. The driver’s door opened and he climbed out. Without looking at her, he went around to the passenger door and held it open, a waft of hot air from inside the car warming her chilled cheeks. The radio played softly, put on to cover any awkward silences, she suspected, and a silver flask stood in the passenger foot well.
“You assumed I would come?” she said, putting her cane in and frowning at the height of the seat. This was going to be tricky.
“Let me lift you,” Daniel said. He put his hands around her waist, unnecessarily, she thought, and assisted her into the car. Slamming the door behind her, he went around the bonnet, snowflakes drifting onto his shirt. Climbing into the driving seat, he started the engine and put it in gear with a hard yank. Carly sat still, staring out the windscreen at the early morning sunrise, glowing yellow over the choppy harbour waters. Her stomach rumbled and she flushed; nervous at being alone with him, she hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning. What did he have to say to her? Tired, she leant back against the seat and sighed.
“Boring you with my constant conversation?” he said.
She jumped, glancing at him. The corners of his mouth had turned up in a slight smile and she relaxed. They would talk later, he looked as much in the mood for another confrontation as she was.
“I’ve brought croissants, warm from the bakery, they’re in the bag behind your seat,” he said.
Twisting around, she took two out, holding one toward him. Signalling, he drew the car to a halt on the side of the road and took the pastry, his fingers brushing hers, sending a rush of heat through her body as she remembered the previous night. He shifted on his seat and she wondered if he too was thinking about it.
The pastry was buttery and flaky on her lips, crumbs dropping onto her jeans, and brushing them off, she raised her head to see him watching her. Wrenching his gaze away, he ate his own croissant, staring through the front window; he was still angry about yesterday. What else did he expect, though? That they would sleep together once and all their problems would melt away? It didn’t work like that.
Wiping his fingers, Daniel switched the engine back on and released the handbrake. Carly turned away from his set profile, staring out the window at the snowy fields, gleaming crisp and white beneath a bright blue sky. It seemed such a shame that they couldn’t talk the way they used to, but stared instead directly ahead, as if they feared catching either other’s eye. It was tempting to raise the topic of the night they shared again, just to get a reaction out of him, but she’d wounded him enough already and his pride didn’t really need another rejection. She swallowed a hard lump in her throat; she wouldn’t cry in front of him. Glancing back, the dinghy bounced behind them, mast lowered and sticking out from the blue cover.
“Did you tell Shane about the damage?” she said.
He glanced at her sharply, then in the rear view mirror. “Yes, I have to drop it in at the builders first, then go on to meet him. He’s waiting for us in the Padstow sailing club.”
“Was he all right about it?”
“Hard to tell over the swearing.” He smiled. “He’s not best pleased with me.”
“What will happen?”
“Without the gold medals, I’d have been thrown out the team, but I think the sponsors will forgive me.” He changed gear and looked at her. “Do I sound arrogant?”
“Just truthful, results are everything. You’re only out if you can’t perform, I know that.”
“Who told you?” He stared straight ahead.
“Shane, to give him his due. He came to my bedsit, the one the council gave me, and explained that they would have to cancel my bursary and training, I think he cried more than I did. I knew it was going to happen, but that didn’t take away the sting, to go from rising star to unwanted burden.” She dropped her head, remembering the humiliation.
“Do you mind seeing him now?”
She hesitated. “I might wait in the car. I have seen him since though, he sent me the college brochure and said if I didn’t choose a course, he’d enroll me on knitting for beginners.”
Daniel laughed. “Sounds like him.”
“He was right, I felt so much better when I had something to do.”
He nodded, flicking the indicator to turn into the boat builder’s workshop. “Stay in the warm, I’ll unhook the trailer and leave it in the main shed.”
He slammed the car door behind him and she turned to watch him out the back window as, wearing only a thin shirt, he spoke to two men, before leaning over the back of the car. The vehicle shuddered as they removed the trailer an
d she watched him walking alongside it, one hand on the gunwale, as the two builders wheeled it away.
“Aren’t you cold?” she said, when he climbed back in.
“You’ve gone soft.” He smiled, starting the car, then glanced at her quickly, his eyes filled with meaning. “I like you that way though.”
“Is that a roundabout way of saying my bottom’s bigger?”
“Seemed pretty good to me.”
She smiled. It was relief to acknowledge the previous night without an argument. He drove into the sailing club car park and backed into a parking space.
“Sure you don’t want to come in?” he said.
“I’m not going to defend you, you’re on your own, Daniel Edwards.”
“All right, keep the heater on and help yourself to coffee.” He jumped out and she watched him stride to the converted pub that housed the sailing club. In summer, ivy grew over the thick grey walls, but in December just a few strands, blackened by frost, waved over the arched doorway. A smell of hot pies and chips flooded out the door and yellow lights shone from the windows. If Shane hadn’t been there she’d have gone in, but she knew what he would ask her, and it wasn’t something she was ready for yet.
CHAPTER SIX
Pushing open the door, Daniel headed for the small bar area. Hopefully it would be deserted so early in the day. There was a limit to the number of spectators he wanted; Shane could be very cutting. Thankfully, Carly had elected to stay in the car, although in their years of training together, she had seen him in trouble so many times that she wouldn’t pay much attention.
“Daniel,” a voice said.
He looked around. Shane sat on a red shiny chair by the gas fire, paper chains swinging above him in the heat and tea mugs piled on the table in front of him. Daniel cursed, his coach looked settled in for the morning and he wasn’t in the mood for a long lecture on his irresponsible behaviour.
