Authors: Grace Henderson
“She’s really beautiful. And I mean gorgeous…If I was twenty years older. But it’s her daughter that has really got to me. I’d do anything for her. Including spending the whole afternoon talking about wedding dresses.”
My heart starts to pound frantically against my chest. He always does this. He acts like an annoying jerk, then makes me swoon into a pile of mush. Life with James Dawson is like I’m constantly sitting on a see-saw and I have no idea when he’s gonna jump on and send me flying. Then when we’re finally riding steady he’ll get off and let me drop.
Dick.
“Well I hope you and my mother enjoy your
date.
When did she organise that anyway?”
“I got a call this morning. She’s thinking about redoing a few rooms in the house and wants me to have a look. So of course, wanting to get some more brownie points, I agreed. Plus I get to spend time with the incredibly sexy daughter I was telling you about.”
I can’t help the smile that creeps on my face and as he pulls me down into his arms again, I think about how boring and predictable life would be without that damn see-saw.
Chapter Sixteen
James
My phone has been ringing incessantly for the last three days. So much so, that I’ve switched off the ringer completely and it’s just been on vibrate. I take it out my pocket and look at the flashing screen. Her, again. Alex has been bombarding me with calls since I pushed her off me and told her to get lost the other night. I don’t know what she has in store but the way I left, it’s bound to be bad. She’s been threatening me, threatening Laurel and my business, and I’ve had enough to the point I’m actually thinking of just telling Laurel anyway. Obviously I want to be honest with her, but she’s been so happy at work, her face just lights up every time she talks about it and call me selfish, but I can’t bring myself to ruin that. She also told me her mum’s been off; tired, moody, just not herself lately, so I get she’s worried and I don’t want to do anything to make her feel worse.
“Do you need to get that? I don’t mind.” Laurel asks softly. I look over at her expecting to see a flicker of jealousy or irritation. So many girls I’ve been out with have been clingy and suspicious of texting or phone calls and some have actually rooted through my phone when they think I’m not paying attention, but there’s nothing. I’m trusted. She’s just genuinely concerned that it might be something important, and the guilt yanks at my insides and twists them up with knots I have no hope of being able to untie.
“Nah, it’s just work.” I lie. Again. She nods and carries on pouring us drinks. I change the subject quickly before I lose myself and let it all come running out my mouth.
“So where’s your mum?” I ask, and see Laurel’s back stiffen as she hands me a bottle.
“Asleep, I think. She’s been sleeping all day.” The corners of her mouth drop and she looks concerned and anxious.
“Nonsense.” Her mum’s voice cuts through as she walks in, dishevelled and tired; a far cry from the put together and dressed up woman I saw a few weeks ago.
“So dramatic. I had a nap that’s all. I’ve been working such long hours recently, they’re taking their toll.” She shrugs off Laurel’s comment and puts the kettle on.
“So anyway, let me show you around properly James. Thank you for coming tonight honey, I’ve been wanting to do something with this place for years but just never got round to it. I’ll be interested to know your opinion.”
“Any time. I love doing houses. It’s not often I get to do them anymore. There are so many other things vying for my attention but it’s where I started and where I love to come back to every now and again.”
The woman who shall not be named
, was my first project on a normal person’s house in over a year. And I use the word normal
loosely
, because she appears to be anything but.
We walk through to the large family room at the back of the house that opens out onto the garden. It’s a huge room for the size of the house and after noticing the old floral wallpaper that makes me want to hurl, my eyes pass the furniture and dart to the chimney breast at the end that’s covered up. I bet I could find a cracking original fireplace at the reclamation yard.
“Judy, did you cover that up?” She follows my eyes and looks at me sheepishly, “I didn’t want to. Mike said he wasn’t bothered about having one there so I went along with it. Do you think we should uncover it?”
My eyes flick to Laurel to see if talk of her dad has affected her, and my hands automatically reach out to her back, trying to give her some sort of comfort with my touch and when she smiles up at me I relax and turn my attention back to the room.
“Yeah. I think it’d look great, I know where we could get an old Georgian fireplace. Did you have a colour scheme in mind?”
“Not really. I want to be creative but truthfully, I don’t think I have it in me.” She laughs, and so does Laurel. I can see in Laurel’s face it’s a relief that Judy’s down here and looking better than she thought. But I’ve always been perceptive of peoples’ body language and every now and again she winces like she’s hiding some kind of pain or dizziness but she clutches onto the side of the sofa as she sits back and rides through it. Laurel’s not facing her so I don’t think she’s noticed but I can’t take my eyes off Judy’s face. When she looks over at me I realise I’ve been staring and her shift in the seat tells me she’s aware of what I’ve just witnessed.
She pulls herself forward and claps her hands together, “So, what does the expert suggest?” Her buoyant tone is forced, as is her smile, but if she doesn’t want to let us in on what’s going on then that’s her business. I’m clearly in no position to judge. I can only assume she’s got Laurel’s best interests at heart, as have I.
“Well, if you’re going to do something in keeping with the style, then there’s burgundy? You’ve got enough natural light from the patio doors for it not to darken the room too much. Most Georgian colours were muted, lots of greys, browns or olive. Any of those would work well with this mahogany furniture too.”
She nods along as I talk about upkeep for the floors, and how best to restore the original ceiling rose that looks damaged. We finish up in that room and she says she wants me to look at another too. She exits the room first but Laurel grabs my hand from behind and holds me back. “You’re so sexy when you talk paint colours,” she whispers, and throws a quick wink as she struts past me. I chuckle loudly, and make a mental note to bring up Dulux at every opportunity.
We spend the next hour going over another two rooms in detail, and I promise to bring some samples round for Judy to have a look at, along with some photos of other Georgian houses I’ve done up in the past. She slumps against the side of the counter in the kitchen and lets out a loud sigh, “I’m so tired. I’m going to bed. Thank you so much for tonight. I can’t wait to get stuck in to some of your ideas. I just need to find some time now.”
“No problem. Let me know if you need anything else,” I reply, and she nods and reaches across to kiss Laurel on the cheek.
As her body moves away, she sucks in a sharp breath, clutching her arms around herself and doubling over. “Mum!” Laurel shrieks, “Are you okay?” She reaches down to put her arms around her and my heart beat races at the familiar feeling, but I push that aside as quickly as it comes.
“Honey, I’m fine. Just need to rest. Good night.” She shrugs out of Laurel’s arms and walks hurriedly out the door. I tug on Laurel’s hand to get her attention, “Don’t worry. I’m sure she’s fine.” I lie. Again. I can’t seem to stop lying. “She’s probably just tired from working like she said. You said she does like fourteen hour days. That’s a killer.” Then I flinch, regretting my choice of words immediately.
Laurel doesn’t notice and relaxes slightly, nodding in agreement, “Yeah you’re probably right. It could be anything. I’m just being silly. I haven’t seen her with so much as a cold in years though so it’s strange.”
She shakes her mood and a slow sexy smile appears, completely replacing the frown. Her body moves up close against mine and I know exactly what she’s thinking. When her tongue comes out to wet her lips and her gaze narrows onto my mine, I see the fire in her eyes which shows me how much she wants me. Her eyes drop to my chest and trail back up to my mouth, and I’m overcome with the need to be closer to her. To take away any anxiety and fill her with happiness. Even if it’s only physical and doesn’t last, it’s something. I follow her lead, and let her take this moment anywhere she wants it. And I’m relieved when her kisses become deeper and more urgent. My hands reach round to her butt and I pull her flush against me. I’m hard, no denying it now, and I’m gonna have to take one ice-cold shower when I get home, but it’ll be worth it to watch her fall apart in my arms. She lets out a little moan as my tongue delves in to her mouth and she grips the back of my head so tightly to her that our teeth clash and our lips are raw but if she needs this, I’m going to give it to her.
“Touch me. Please.” She croaks out and pulls away quickly, grabbing my hand to move it up to her breasts. I reach into her top and cup her soft skin, squeezing gently and enjoying the way she grinds against me, pushing herself towards the release she needs. I shove away from the side of the counter and bring her round so her back crashes against the fridge, nipping her bottom lip and squeezing harder. Sex has never meant anything more to me than fun, or a release at the end of a stressful day. But now, it’s something more. It’s reassurance; it’s emotion and connection and adoration for a beautiful woman who’s changing up my life in a way I never thought possible. Never thought I’d want, let alone need.
I move down to the button on her jeans and undo it with desperate hands. She’s getting to me, making me feel like a teenager over and over again. I reach in and cup her sex, pressing my palm against her. She jerks her lips away from my mouth to tilt her head back against the stainless steel. Her lips part and her eyes close, lost in the feelings I’m giving her.
Me
. Her hands reach up to clasp my biceps and I love that I’m getting to know her signs. The little things she does that let me know how she’s feeling without saying anything.
“Move your legs further apart for me babe.”
She complies instantly, and I start moving my fingers slowly over her clit, gentle strokes that I can feel shake her whole body as I kiss her soundly on the mouth.
“Yes.” She says loudly, too loud, so I cover her mouth with my hand whilst I thrust a finger inside her. Her eyes flutter back and I feel her clench snugly round it. She’s so fucking wet I’m thinking maybe a little rough sex will turn her on. I tuck that thought away for another day.
“You like this?”
Her eyes widen above my hand and her head nods her affirmation.
“I can feel how much you do. Come for me babe.”
I slide another finger inside her, and she lets out a muffled moan whilst her walls tighten and spasm round my fingers. I keep thrusting leisurely until I can feel the pulses slowing, and her eyes open, heavy and lethargic.
She reaches up to my hand and pulls it away from her mouth, gripping it tightly and squeezing. My drenched fingers leave her body and she eyes them carefully as I lift them to her lips. She parts them and caresses the whole length of my fingers with her tongue, and sucks gently. Her eyes glow, I can see she enjoys the way she tastes. She then turns my hand round to my mouth and I do exactly the same, but I lick everything off them so the only thing that’s left is the subtle smell of her arousal.
“Fuck, Laurel. You have no idea how sexy you are. I’m gonna be tasting you in my dreams tonight.”
She blushes, which is way too cute considering what she’s just done in front of me. I kiss her again; long, slow, demanding swipes of our tongues and arduous draws of her lips between mine.
The longer it goes on, the more likely it is I’ll want to fuck her against the fridge, and with Judy upstairs that’s out of the question, so I yank my lips away from hers with as much willpower as I can manage.
“You gotta go, huh?” She asks with a satisfied grin on her face.
“Afraid so. But I’ll be back.” I promise with one last kiss on her lips. “You’ll always keep me coming back.”
Chapter Seventeen
Laurel
“Hello?” I croak groggily into my phone. I can see the clock flashing at ten a.m. I haven’t slept this late in ages but I have a couple of days off and I obviously needed the rest.
“Laurel, I’m so sorry to ring you but we have a slight problem here and I don’t know what to do.”
“Jess?” I confirm as the voice wakes me up and I sit up against the headboard. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s been a huge mix-up with appointments. Somehow. I don’t know. But I have six angry customers with their entourages in the showroom and it’s just me. They’re not being very reasonable.”
“Six? Oh my God. You shouldn’t even have an appointment until 11 a.m. Then Meg will be in anyway. Have you looked in the diary?”
“Yeah, and it says what you’re saying now. But they are all telling me their appointments are booked for ten!”
It’s a struggle to find anything to say because I’m completely shell-shocked. Every appointment I confirm gets written in the diary and I never reschedule unless there’s an emergency. I know for a fact that I did not book those appointments for ten. But I remember James’ cool, calm demeanour and relax. I have no choice but to sort this. First things first, the solution.
“Jess, I’m coming now. My mum’s home so I’ll get her to come with me too. They’ll never know. I’ll ring Meg on the way and see if she can get in any earlier. We’ll sort it don’t worry but for now, you need to get them to fill out that style preference questionnaire, that’ll kill ten minutes. Keep them talking. And give everyone a glass of Bucks Fizz. Hell, give them just Champagne if they want. There’s enough in the back fridge. But whatever you do, don’t let them leave unhappy. We need them.”