by T L Swan
She sits cross-legged with her little picnic blanket spread out and our plates of sandwiches beside her. Chocolate slices sit in a Tupperware container for dessert.
I’m so grateful for the beautiful friendship we have. She has been so good to me throughout this whole Alastar disaster. “Hey, babe.” I take a seat and kiss her cheek.
She smiles as she sips her Coke. “You look happy.”
I grab her hand. “Oh, I am. I have had the most amazing weekend.”
She smiles. “Good. About time.” She passes me my plate of sandwiches.
“How did yours go?’ I take my first bite. “Damn, you make the best lunches.”
She pulls an unimpressed face. “Meh.”
I frown. “Meh? What happened?”
She throws her arms up in the air in frustration. “So… he comes to get me from my room—”
I cut her off. “Where were the kids?”
“They stayed at Grandma’s.”
I smile broadly. “Perfect.” She rolls her eyes. “You would think? So, he comes to get me from my room and his eyes drop down to my feet and back up again, and he’s all sexy eyes at me, I thought, yes, he might throw me on the bed right there and then.”
I smile. “I take it he liked the dress?” “It was all hot and bothery, and I thought to myself… Yep. It’s go time. We are so going to fuck.”
I smile as I listen.
“And then we got to the dinner and everyone there was old enough to be my grandparent.”
My face falls.
“And he talks all this intelligent crap with them.”
I screw up my face. “Sounds pretty dull.”
“And then this silly bitch—she works with him—was seated next to us and she asked him in front of me, Julian, I see you brought one of your daughter’s friends.”
My eyes widen. “She actually said that?”
“Yep.”
I giggle and put my hand over my mouth in shock. “How old was she?”
“Not very old. Maybe thirty-three or four. It was so obvious she was smitten with him.”
“Oh, man.” I keep eating.
“Then he seemed to get embarrassed and went all silent and uncomfortable.”
“What a bitch.” I sigh. “Some people.”
“I know.”
“What did he say when she said that?”
She shakes her head. “This was the clincher. Get this. He said, this is my children’s nanny, Brielle. He was embarrassed that he brought me.”
“Fuck off.”
“I swear.”
“Oh, crap. What an idiot.”
“I know. I asked him to take me home as soon as dessert was served.”
I take a sip of my Coke. This is a disaster date if ever I heard of one. “What happened when you got home?”
“He apologized and I told him not to bother asking me out again. I’m just the children’s nanny and it will stay that way from now on. He should go back to the party and enjoy himself with his stuffy friends.”
“Shit.” I frown. “Did he?”
She nods. “Yep, the asshole waited half an hour for me to fall asleep and then I heard the car drive off. And he obviously hooked up because he didn’t come home until he picked the kids up in the morning.”
I grab her hand in sympathy and she smiles a stupid smile. “God, men are such fucktards.”
I shake my head in disgust. “It’s true. They really are.”
I hesitate for a few moments. I don’t know how to say this.
“So Alastar turned up at the club on Saturday night.”
She looks at me blankly. “And?”
I bite my sandwich trying to think of the perfect wording. “And I may have gone home with him and spent the weekend at his house.” I fake a smile.
She rolls her eyes. “Ugh. This guy is so annoying. Why doesn’t he make up his damn mind?”
I shrug as I sip my Coke. “I just really like him, Brell, and unfortunately, I can’t turn it off.” She shakes her head and lies back to look at the sky until I join her, our heads touching as we stare at the clouds, both lost in our own thoughts.
I shake my head. “The sex is something else, and the way he makes me feel about my body, and his body…” I hesitate for a moment as I think. “You know, I thought I knew what an orgasm was before I arrived in London.”
She looks over at me and frowns.
“Alastar gives me orgasms so strong that my body lurches off the bed, or bench, floor, wherever we are.”
Brielle looks at me. “Maybe I should give Thomas a run around the block.”
I smirk as I look over at her. “I would if I was you. If Twinkle is anything to go by, I imagine Thomas is genetically blessed, too.
We both stay silent and stare at the sky. “Oh, and he asked me to move in with him,” I add.
“What!” she shrieks as she sits up violently.
“Relax. I told him no. I’m not that stupid.”
She lies back down and shakes her head. “I’m not going home without you Em. Remember… this is just a holiday romance.”
“I know.” I smile, but somewhere in a place deep down inside my stomach, I know it’s not.
Alastar O’Shea is the one. I would bet my life on it.
* * *
I walk down the street and crane my neck over the crowd to try and see if Alastar is waiting at our designated corner. It’s 5.15pm and I have been counting the hours down until I see him again. Is he here? I can’t see him. I start to panic and then out of nowhere he turns the corner, coming into my vision. A huge smile crosses his face when he sees me and it’s all I can do not to run and jump into his arms. Wearing a long coat, with his hair messy and blowing in the wind, he looks just like a man from a movie.
Am I serious? It’s been nine hours since I saw him last and it has been the longest nine hours of my life. I can’t help myself—I rush to him when I see him. He warmly envelopes me with his arms. We stay still in the embrace and he lifts my chin and kisses me gently.
“How was my girl’s day?” he whispers.
I beam. “Fine, thank you. How was my man’s day?”
He smiles broadly and I know he likes being called my man. He kisses me quickly. “It was dull without you.”
He turns me and we walk down the street arm in arm.
I am giddy… Giddy for this man. He could take me on a date to Hell and I would be so damn happy as long as I was with him.
“We shall just go to yours, grab some things, and then I will make us dinner back at our house.”
I smile. “Okay.” I kiss him again as we walk and we nearly run into a man coming in the opposite direction.
“Get a room.” He growls.
I smirk. “Twinkle, stop it. You make me kiss you in the strangest places.”
* * *
I stand back as Alastar opens the door to my room. He takes control of all things. I don’t even have to think when he’s around. We walk in and he flicks the light on. I look around at the sparse space. It seems so empty compared to his opulent home.
“Show me your drawings,” he says as if he’s been waiting to see them.
Oh no. “They are not very good,” I tell him. Although, that’s not really true. I know they are a lot better than anything I have ever done before. I walk over to the cupboard and hand him my large art pad. He flicks over the first page. It’s a picture of countryside with a stable drawn in lead pencil.
“This is?” he asks.
“This is Henry and Elizabeth’s house.”
His eyes lift up to me and he smiles, as if in wonder. “Is this the stable here?” He points to the barn.
I nod and smile proudly.
He turns the page again and it’s a picture of a large sandstone church. His eyes meet mine again and he smiles softly. “Where is this church?”
I shrug. “No Idea.” I smile, embarrassed, wishing I was as talented as he is. “I just made it up.”
He turns the page again and it�
��s a picture of a... I don’t even know what it is, other than a doodle. It’s a shield with an emblem on it. His eyes meet mine and he bends and kisses me gently. “What is this, my love?”
I love it when he calls me that. “Just a doodle.”
He smiles. “There is no such thing as just a doodle.”
“I’m not sure,” I reply.
He turns the last page over and his brow furrows. It’s a picture I have drawn of a little girl. She’s about two and has curly hair just above her shoulders. She has large eyes and perfect lips and is looking up at me.
He stares at it and drops to the bed.
I sit down behind him. “I’m not very good.”
He smiles softly. “Who is this wee child?”
“I don’t know, she’s just in my head.”
He continues to stare at it deep in thought. This picture has affected him in some way.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
He stands and walks over to the window to look at the picture closer under the light. His bleary eyes meet mine. “Nothing is wrong. Everything is as it should be.”
I smile, confused.
“I love you, Emmaline.”
Chapter 21
“What?” I whisper.
Did I hear that right?
He stands and wraps his large arms around me then kisses me on the lips. “I said…” He kisses me again. “I love you.”
My eyes widen. “You do?”
“Aye. I do.” His lips brush mine.
I smile and throw my arms around his neck. “I love you.”
He kisses me gently. “I’m sorry I put you through so much. I don’t deserve for you to love me.”
Emotion fills me. This is the first time he has apologized for treating me the way he did.
“I just…” He hesitates, as if going to say something.
“You just what?” I whisper. I need to hear why.
“I just wasn’t prepared to feel anything so strong. It shocked me.”
I frown. “Shocked you?”
He pushes my hair behind my shoulders. “From the moment I laid eyes on you in that shop, you have been on my mind.” I smile. Same as me.
“And I tried to stay away from you because you were not in my plans.”
My eyes search his and my heart rate picks up. He gently runs his fingers down my face as his eyes hold mine. “But… I couldn’t stay away, Em,” he whispers, almost to himself.
I smile against his lips as he kisses me. “I’m glad you couldn’t stay away,” I whisper.
“And I can’t stay away any longer. I can’t do it, my love. I need you now. I want you to move in with me and I want us to plan a future together. To hell with the consequences.” “I love you.” I smile, is this is happening? He kisses me. His tongue gently enters my mouth and molds with mine. My breath catches at the intensity of him, at the intensity of this moment. I believe him; he does love me and he tried to stay away from me. I felt it at the time. I felt all along that he had feelings for me but was denying them. And now he is confirming those thoughts.
“Make love to me,” he whispers.
I smile as I put my hand under his jumper and lift it over his head. He unzips my dress and lets it fall to the floor. His hungry eyes drop down my body as I stand in my black lace underwear.
“My beautiful Emmaline,” he murmurs as he pushes my bra back and bends to take my breast into his mouth. “I am blessed that the person I feel like this about is such a beautiful woman,” he breathes onto my nipple.
I look to the ceiling and smile like a goofy teenager. I have been called pretty before, attractive sure. But to have a man like Alastar, a man who I am hopelessly in love with, tell me I am a beautiful woman has to be the biggest compliment I have ever received. He bites me, his hand drifting between my thighs before he pushes my panties down my legs. “I love you,” he whispers again.
Happiness starts today.
* * *
The welcoming crackling of the fire fills the room. The light is flickering on our faces as we lie next to it on the floor of our bedroom. It is midnight, but I couldn’t sleep if I tried. I’m high on the Alastar O’Shea love drug. We came back here and he made us dinner. We’ve been cuddling in front of the fire ever since, in our pajamas, with Fraidy the cat snuggled at our feet. I’m happy and I feel safe. It seemed since I met Alastar those things were a thing of the past, but now the feeling is back with a vengeance. He lies behind me with his strong arms around me, his head propped up on pillows. I sporadically feel his gentle kisses on the side of my face, and I smile into the glow of the fire. I never knew how much I loved fires or the warmth and the feeling that they throw out. We didn’t have one at home, and yet now I have spent nights in front of one with Alastar, I can’t imagine doing anything more perfect.
Alastar puts his hand in the air and I place mine into it.
“What are you thinking about, my love?” he asks as he brings my hand down to his lips and kisses my fingers.
I smile. “Nothing.” I hold my face up as he tenderly trails kisses down onto my neck. We have made love twice already tonight, but I can feel another round coming. I can’t believe he told me he loved me tonight.
Those holy words.
Intimacy has finally reached a whole new level. I felt it deeply all along, but thought it was one sided. Now that I know I wasn’t imagining it, I am not sure I can control it anymore.
I am in love with Alastar. The arrogant ass from the antique shop could not be more perfect, and for the first time in a long time I feel at peace. I roll over to face him and he smiles softly. My heart flutters. Oh, he’s just so lovely.
He looks over me, into the fire, with his arms around me as if in thought. I kiss his chest, knowing it is him who is thinking deeply.
“What are you thinking about, Twinkle?” I ask.
He smiles and kisses me gently. “Nothing much.”
I raise my eyebrows and he smiles a knowing smile.
“I’m thinking that time is so precious,” he replies softly. I smile. He’s so deep. I nod. “It is.” I watch him for a moment. I want to get to know him properly, all of him. Warts and all. “What is your favorite memory as a child?” I ask.
“Hmm.” He smiles, narrows his eyes and thinks for a moment. “Probably not worrying about the future.”
I frown. That’s a weird answer. I thought he would say riding a bike. “Do you worry about the future?” I ask.
He smirks. “Aye. I do.”
“Why?”
He shrugs. “It’s a curse, I guess.” His eyes drop to my pajamas and he fiddles with the fabric between his fingers as if processing his thoughts.
“You can’t control the future, Twinkle.”
“What if I could?” he whispers.
I kiss him gently. “You can’t.”
He nods, deep in thought.
“Is that why you like to be organized and for things to be neat and in order?” I ask gently.
His eyes stay down.
“Is it because that is one thing that you can control? That the things around you are as you want them to be.”
“I guess,” he whispers sadly.
I smile broadly. “I’m messy, Alastar.”
He smirks as his eyes meet mine. “I know.”
“I don’t like order and I don’t worry about the future. And now that I have you loving me, I feel like I couldn’t possibly ever have to worry again.” He smiles as his lips touch mine and I kiss him softly.
“Stop worrying. Everything is going to be good. We don’t want control. Surrender yourself to happiness,” I whisper.
He squeezes me tightly and I know that something I have said has somehow struck a chord with him. We lie still in the darkness as Alastar holds onto me for dear life.
* * *
I wake to the sound of purring. What in the hell is that? I frown as I look around. Fraidy is sitting on the floor next to my side of the bed, staring up at me. I go to the bathroom with him walki
ng around my feet.
“Are you hungry, boy?” I ask in a whisper.
My eyes glance to the beautiful man sleeping in bed. His dark curly hair is splayed over his face and his olive skin is on display. He is on his back and I watch his chest rise and fall as he sleeps for a moment. If someone had told me three months ago that when I got to London, I would fall head over heels in love with an artistic photographer, I would have thought they were crazy. And yet, that is exactly what I has happened. I don’t think that moving in with Alastar this quick is the answer to my problems. We don’t even really know each other. My eyes roam up and down his perfect body, and yet… he loves me. My heart blooms with hope. I have never felt this way before or felt so connected with someone that I don’t even need to talk to them to feel close. It’s just there between us—an intimacy—this caring feeling, and I know that we do need to get to know each other. But really, it all just feels like semantics. I know him already. I love him already.
Fraidy meows up at me and I smile.
“Shh,” I whisper. “Okay, I’m coming.”
I walk downstairs to feed our annoying housemate and flick the coffee machine on. I should make breakfast today. Alastar has been waiting on me hand and foot. I feed Fraidy his biscuits and open the fridge to check out the choices. Hmm, my eyes scan through the ingredients. I pull out the drawer in the bottom of the fridge. Oh, good, bacon, mushrooms and eggs. Does he have any shallots? My eyes scan up and down. Nope. Hmm, I continue to search for a Spanish onion. I scratch my head as I think and look around the huge kitchen.
He must keep them in the cupboards. I open and close all of the cupboards. Each one filled with expensive crockery and utensils. He has the best of everything in here. Everything is top notch. Alastar O’shea you have expensive damn taste.
I finally locate an onion and set about making my Spanish Omelet. The house is quite dark. I look around, realizing I need to let some light in. Opening the kitchen and dining room blinds, I then walk out into the lounge area and pull back the expensive drapes, flicking the lights on, too. That’s better. I am on my way back into the kitchen when I notice the door down into the cellar. I frown. For some reason this doorway interests me and I turn the nob.
