Digging Deeper

by Barbara Elsborg

  “He said he’d come straight here from the hotel on Sunday morning.”

  For a shag. Josh seethed. To speak or not to speak, that was the question. Not to, the answer.

  “I sometimes think all he’s interested in is sex,” Kirsten mumbled. Josh didn’t need to hear this. It was slow torture. He wondered what she’d do if he kissed her to shut her up.

  “He’s much more experienced than me.”

  The more she talked the more Josh became aware of feeling something he wasn’t supposed to. Maybe if he tried hard—wrong word, tried not to feel it, it would go away. No, didn’t work. He grabbed a cushion to put over the bulge in his trousers.

  “What are you doing?” Kirsten asked.

  “I thought you’d be more comfortable.”

  “That’s so sweet, Josh. You’re not like other men.”

  Oh yes I am, Josh thought, willing his erection to subside.

  “I can tell you anything.”

  No, don’t, Josh pleaded, at least no more about sex.

  “I want to watch North and South,” Kirsten said. Oh dear God, no.

  “You’ll watch it with me, won’t you, Josh?”

  “Yes, course I will.” What had he said? He’d been thinking rolling naked in brambles held more attraction.

  “Will you put it on for me?” Kirsten asked.

  “You do it and I’ll get us a glass of wine.” He hoped the place he’d hidden the twodisk set remained undiscovered. Josh was relieved to see the bulge had gone as he went into the kitchen. The mere mention of the DVD had been enough to quell his ardor. But by the time he returned with two large glasses of wine, North and South had started. Kirsten had the instincts of a bloodhound. Josh knew every scene, every bloody line. Elizabeth Gaskell should have been strangled at birth. Only the fact that he’d be next to Kirsten for hours kept him from running out of the house screaming.

  “He is so sweet.” Kirsten sighed as John Thornton turned his smoldering gaze on Margaret Hale, the woman he had both repulsed and fascinated. “No one will ever want me that much.”

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  Me, Josh wanted to scream. I do. Me, you idiot. He idly stroked Kirsten’s arm as he tried to pluck up enough courage to kiss her.

  Kirsten could feel Josh’s heart racing under her ear, hear the sound of his breathing. The rise and fall of his chest soothed her, as though she rocked on a boat. His fingers were silky smooth on her skin. Kirsten moved so that her head was higher. She’d never noticed before how nice he smelled. Pierce always wore weird aftershave that cost a fortune and tasted horrible.

  “I love you,” Josh murmured.

  Kirsten felt his heartbeat quadruple, enough to tell her she really had heard him say that. Her heart fluttered. React or pretend nothing happened? She turned to see Josh gazing at her with his beautiful hazel eyes. Why hadn’t she noticed them before? His lips were slightly open. Kirsten reached up, pulled his head down and kissed him, but as he began to kiss her back she was suddenly horrified.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled, scrambled off him and fled.

  Kirsten closed her bedroom door and sat down on the floor with her back against it. What had she done? She’d kissed Josh and he’d started to kiss her and it had felt completely right. Or had she been thinking about Pierce, imagined she was kissing him and it was completely wrong? She needed to speak to Flick, but she wasn’t allowed to take her mobile phone to the gas station. If Kirsten hadn’t been drunk, she’d have driven there. Only when she thought about it, she didn’t know exactly where Flick worked. She ought to have asked in case there was an emergency. Like now.

  Kirsten groaned in frustration. What was she going to do if Josh knocked on the door? Kiss him again to see if it felt the same? But maybe that would be a mistake. When she caught herself chewing her hair, Kirsten knew she was in deep trouble.

  At first Josh thought he’d died and gone to heaven, and if this was what happened in heaven then he hoped he was dead. He was kissing her, really kissing her. She was so soft and sweet and so—not there anymore.

  Now he wallowed in an agony of indecision. Go upstairs. Don’t go upstairs. Kill yourself. Don’t kill yourself. What were Flick’s words of warning? Don’t take advantage of the situation and what had he done? Kissed Kirsten, although that wasn’t strictly accurate. She’d kissed him and it was everything he’d hoped for, but a bit too brief. But now he had to do the right thing and not go upstairs. He had to let Kirsten make up her mind what she wanted.

  But maybe he should go up and tell her he loved her. Josh got up and then sat down again. It was an action he repeated far too often over the next fifteen minutes until he decided it was easier to get drunk instead.

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  Chapter Sixteen

  Flick crawled into bed exhausted. Her last dance had been as a cowgirl, a footstomping, hat-twirling, whip-flicking, breast-shaking routine that involved her getting drenched. Those sitting along the edge of the platform were armed with water pistols, and although Gerry had fixed them so the stream of water wouldn’t take off their nipples, that was exactly where the men aimed. Flick always came home shattered. She lay on her back, wondering if Beck was all right and hoping he’d come to the party. When she’d left him at the hospital, he’d seemed desperate for her to go, but he hadn’t sounded angry, which made a change. It was lovely that he’d wanted to kiss her, even if he hadn’t, so if he came to the party, should she kiss him? Walk right up and press her lips against his before she slipped with a cheese knife and stabbed him or accidentally smothered him with a plate of sausage rolls? Maybe he didn’t like fast women. Maybe he liked to be the one to make the first move. Maybe with some snake venom still in him, he didn’t want to make the move.

  Flick knew Beck deserved someone who didn’t pole dance to make ends meet, someone who hadn’t been sacked for stealing money, even if she hadn’t done it. He deserved someone who wasn’t trying to kill him. Not that she wanted to kill him, she wanted to kiss him. Perhaps if she kissed him everything would be all right. He’d find her irresistible and forget about the little accidents. If he came to the party, she’d kiss him. Walk right up to him and kiss him. She slid into a dream where they kissed so deeply they suffocated each other.

  * * * * *

  “Flick. Wake up. Flick.”

  Flick opened her eyes. Kirsten’s face hovered inches above hers.

  “Happy Birthday,” Flick mumbled and rolled over. “Present’s on the floor. Now piss off.”

  “No, don’t go back to sleep. I have to talk to you.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Seven.”

  “Kirsten, I’m going to kill you.” Flick couldn’t help the whine. She hadn’t crawled into bed until 3:15.

  “I kissed Josh.”

  Flick opened her eyes and took a hammer to the jealous imp jumping in her head. Kirsten had kissed Josh and she couldn’t even manage to kiss Beck?

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  “And?” Flick asked.

  “And nothing. I just kissed him.”

  “Did he kiss you back?”

  “Umm,” Kirsten smiled. “For a moment. It was lovely.”

  “So what’s the problem?” Flick rolled over and closed her eyes.

  “Why did I do it?”

  “You were feeling lonely, upset, pissed off with Pierce, and Josh is nice guy and a good kisser.”

  “How do you know he’s a good kisser?”

  Flick tried to keep hold of the sheet but Kirsten pulled it away.

  “We kissed once when we were drunk. To test a theory. I love Josh to bits but I don’t fancy him and he doesn’t fancy me. He’s crazy about you.”

  “About me? Sit up and talk to me properly.”

  Flick muttered under her breath as Kirsten kept poking her.

  “How do you know?” Kirsten asked.

  “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I’ve seen the way he looks at Pierce.
And he asked me not to say anything.”

  “He asked you not to say anything?”

  Flick knew that would clinch it.

  “Oh God. Pierce.” Kirsten slumped on her back next to Flick. “What am I going to do?”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “You sound like a psychiatrist.”

  “Is that how you’d like me to sound?” Flick teased.

  “Stop it. What do I do?”

  “Wait and see what Josh says.”

  There was a long pause. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Do you want to go back to sleep?”

  God, please. “No, I’ll get up. We have a party to organize.”

  Flick had barely settled at the kitchen table when Kirsten started again.

  “What am I going to do?”

  Flick gripped her toast in case her hands flew to Kirsten’s throat. For someone who made important decisions in her professional life, Kirsten was a wobbly canoe in choppy water when it came to personal stuff.

  “Tell Pierce it’s over.”

  “I thought I’d found ‘the one’.”

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  “Can you see yourself married to Pierce, bringing up his kids? What sort of father would he be? Controlling and critical like he is with you? Would he ever let them win at Snap?”

  Kirsten winced.

  “You don’t even play with him yourself because he’s smug when he wins and sulks when he loses. Even in discussions he always has to have the last word.”

  “But he can be kind. I thought I loved him. What if he is ‘the one’?”

  Josh froze outside the kitchen door, squeezing Kirsten’s birthday present in his hands, wondering if he should move or keep listening.

  “What if he’s not?” Flick asked.

  “I don’t know what to do. I thought we were right for each other.”

  Josh pressed his lips together.

  “He has a nice car,” Kirsten muttered.

  Josh’s fingers pierced the wrapping paper. Kirsten had never shown any interest in cars. She couldn’t tell a Lexus from a Lada.

  “He’s selfish and boring,” Flick said.

  “Yes.” There was a pause. “Oh God, did I say yes to that?”

  “And you’re not even drunk.”

  Josh vowed never to be boring again. He bounced into the kitchen with a smile on his face, realizing he should have thought of something inspiring to say first. Flailing, he stuttered, “Happy b-birthday. I’m thinking of er…going…trekking in Nepal.”

  Both Flick and Kirsten stared at him in astonishment.

  “You take your car to a mailbox less than a hundred meters away, so I find that hard to believe,” Flick said.

  He scowled at her and smiled at Kirsten. “Happy birthday.” He held out the battered present and a card.

  “Oooh, thank you.” Kirsten carefully took off the wrapping paper. He’d bought her a box containing a wine tasting system supposed to help the average person evaluate the different qualities of wine. The three of them played a game when they opened a bottle—what wine am I drinking? The only thing Kirsten ever got right was the color and if she wore a blindfold she didn’t always get that right.

  “Josh, this is fantastic. Look at all these scents.”

  She opened one of the small bronze containers and sniffed. “Oh God, that’s vile.”

  Josh took it from her and turned it over. “Cat pee.”

  “What does that have to do with wine tasting?” Kirsten asked.

  “If it smells like cat pee, don’t drink it,” Flick advised. “There’s probably one in there labeled ‘Josh’s feet’.”

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  “It’s next to Flick’s pork casserole,” he said.

  Flick growled.

  “It’s a lovely present. Thank you, Josh.” Kirsten moved forward to give him a hug and suddenly froze with her lips in front of his mouth before landing a quick peck on his cheek.

  Josh wished he’d had the courage to buy her the necklace he’d spotted. Maybe he’d have had a proper kiss then, like last night. What had happened last night? What were they going to do? He wanted to talk about it but it seemed Kirsten wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened.

  “Open mine now.” Flick handed her two packages.

  “A Hundred Places To See Before You Die?” Kirsten read.

  “I figured it’s only a present you can give someone who isn’t in imminent danger of dropping dead. I think trekking in Nepal is probably in there. You and Josh can go together.”

  “It was just a thought,” Josh said, panic welling in his stomach.

  “I didn’t think you meant it.” Flick winked at him.

  Kirsten unwrapped the second package and lifted out a Nicole Farhi dress. She held it up against herself and looked at Flick in amazement.

  “This is where I confess it’s not new. I don’t think they realized what they were selling. I hope you don’t mind someone else wore it first.”

  “It’s fabulous. Didn’t you want it?”

  “Yes, but it’s not my size.”

  “You two are the best friends I could have.” Kirsten put her arms out for a hug. Josh’s heart sank. He didn’t want to be just her friend. He hugged her only for a couple of seconds before he rushed out of the room.

  * * * * *

  Flick winced after she opened the oven door. The cake had not risen. It remained as flat as when she’d placed it in there thirteen minutes before. How could that be? The only thing it had done was change from one disgusting shade of brown to another. She nudged the shelf and the cake wobbled. Not good.

  She wondered whether to turn it out on to the cooling rack and risk it oozing through to the work surface or whether she should leave it in the tin in case it set like a jelly. Not that her jellies ever set, but that was because she couldn’t resist consuming a few of the raw cubes and then forgot to adjust the water. With this cake she had followed the instructions more or less exactly. Another egg could never be a bad thing, surely? Even if she’d had to scrape it off the work surface? Something had clearly gone wrong. In the end, the decision was taken out of her hands because Josh burst into the 109

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  kitchen to tell her to hurry. They were supposed to be going to buy the food and alcohol for the party.

  “Is that it?” Josh asked, trying to see what Flick had spent the best part of the morning flapping about.

  “Yes,” she snapped.

  It was Josh’s fault she’d spent too long in a harassed condition in the kitchen when she should have been harassed in the bedroom, although she would have only been painting walls. After Josh had suddenly announced Flick would be making the cake, he’d handed her the recipe and gone off to mow the lawn. The fact that Kirsten lounged on the patio, reading a book and wearing a bikini had nothing to do with his change of mind, Flick was sure. Now he had the nerve to complain over how long she was taking.

  “Did you remember to line the tin with baking parchment?” Josh asked. Oh shit. “No, I forgot but I did grease it well.” She had slathered a thick layer of margarine on the sides and the bottom of the container.

  “You better not leave it in the tin in case it sticks. Turn it out.”

  Flick picked it up with the oven gloves and turned it over a plate. When she lifted the tin, the plate was empty. It was like she’d cocked up a magician’s trick. She put the tin down, tapped on the top three times and lifted it once more. Still nothing. There was no point saying abracadabra. Flick looked around for something to bang on the base. Josh leaned against the edge of the table and watched.

  After five hard blows with her shoe, there was an unpleasant squelching sound similar to the one their sink produced trying to swallow too much cereal. Flick nervously lifted the tin.

  “It’s out,” she announced. “It’s a girl, slightly premature.”

  Josh peered over her shoulder. “Did you preheat the oven?”

  “Yes.” No
.

  “How long did you cook it?”

  “Thirteen minutes.”

  Josh opened his mouth and then closed it again.

  “What?” Flick demanded.

  “Nothing.”

  “That’s what it said. It was your recipe.”

  Josh still said nothing.

  “What?” Flick repeated.

  “Thirteen doesn’t sound very long. You sure it didn’t say thirty?”

  “Absolutely.” Shit. That probably explained why it looked hollow in the middle. Flick squeaked. “It’s getting bigger.”

  The cake oozed sideways.

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  She sighed. “I’m going to have to chuck it away. We’ll have to buy one.”

  Josh lifted the bin up from under the sink. Flick slid the cake in.

  “Maybe it’s just as well,” she said with a grin. “There has to be a million calories in it. Three bars of chocolate, six eggs and a bag of sugar. All that and it looks like a cowpat.”

  “What looks like a cowpat?” Kirsten asked as she came into the kitchen.

  “The cake I just made for you,” Flick said.

  “I’ll see you in the car.” Josh looked away from Kirsten. The moment he’d gone, she slumped onto a kitchen chair. “He won’t talk to me. What am I going to do? Maybe I read it wrong. Maybe he’s not interested.”

  “Kirsten, he’s spent all morning mowing the lawn so he could look at you in your bikini. Believe me, he’s interested. He’s just nervous.”

  “He’s sorry he kissed me.” Kirsten looked up and did her mistreated puppy look.

  “Yes, all right.” Flick rolled her eyes. “I’ll speak to him.”

  * * * * *

  “Faint heart never won fair lady,” said Flick as she drove toward Guiseley. Josh sighed. “Right.”

  “Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

  “Give it a rest.”

  “Carpe Diem. Strike while the iron’s hot. He who hesitates is lost. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. No, not that one.”

  “You were the one who told me not to do anything last night,” Josh said.

  “That was then, this is now. You need to say something. Life’s too short. You might fall off a mountain while you’re trekking in Nepal. Tell her.”