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I go to the wardrobe and grab a white s.h.i.+rt. I don't pick the most expensive one this time, although I'm sure they're all pretty costly.
'I was just coming to find you.' He pauses from forking various dishes onto two plates. 'I like your s.h.i.+rt.'
'Kate didn't pack me any s...o...b.. clothes.'
'She didn't?' He raises an eyebrow, and I know instantly, Kate did pack me some s...o...b.. clothes. That or she didn't pack at all a I suspect it's the latter. 'Where do you want to eat?'
'I'm e...' I snap my mouth shut on a shrug.
'Only for me, yes?' He grins, shoving a bottle of water under his arm and picking up the plates. 'We'll slum it on the sofa.' He leads me into the colossal open s.p.a.ce and nods at the gigantic sofa. I sit in the corner section, accepting the plate he hands me. It smells delicious and it's Chinese. Perfect.
The doors on the ma.s.sive television cabinet start sliding across, revealing the biggest, frameless, flat screen T.V I've ever laid my eyes on.
'Do you want to watch television or would you prefer music and conversation?' He looks at me on a small smile. My fork is hanging out of my mouth. I didn't realise how hungry I was.
I chew and swallow as soon as I can. 'I'll take music and conversation, please.' That was an easy choice. He nods, like he knew that would be my answer, and the next thing I know, the room is swamped in the calming tones of Mumford and Sons. This is a surprise. I cross my legs and sit back. I made a good choice with this sofa.
'Good?'
I glance over and find him facing me, one knee up and his arm resting on the back of the sofa holding his plate. 'Very, you don't cook?'
'I don't.'
I smile around my fork. 'Why, Mr Ward, is that something you don't do well?'
'I can't be amazing at everything.' he says, completely straight faced, studying me closely. He really is an over-confident a.r.s.e.
'Your housekeeper cooks for you?'
'If I ask her to, but most of the time I eat at The Manor.'
I suppose it makes sense that he'd take advantage of the lovely food at his disposal. I know I would. 'How old are you?'
He pauses with his fork midway to his mouth. 'Thirty-ish,' He takes his forkful of food, watching me as he chews.
'-ish,' I mouth.
'Yes, ish,' A smile plays on the corners of his lips.
I return to my food, not in the least bit bothered by his vague answer. I'll keep asking; he'll keep evading. Maybe I should try with my own versions of persuasion a maybe a truth f.u.c.k or a countdown? What would I do to him on zero? I drift into musing over exactly what I could do on zero, between mouthfuls of my Chinese dinner. I can think of plenty, but nothing I could carry out with ease. He'd overpower me, very easily. The countdown is off the menu, so it's a truth f.u.c.k then. I need to invent the truth f.u.c.k. What could I do?
'Ava?'
I look up, finding Jesse and his frown line studying me. 'Yes?'
'Dreaming?' he asks, his voice laced with concern.
'Sorry.' I put my fork down. 'I was miles away.'
'You were,' He takes my plate and slides it onto the coffee table. 'Where were you?' He reaches over to pull me into his lap.
I snuggle happily. 'Nowhere.'
He s.h.i.+fts up the sofa, taking my place in the corner, positioning me under his arm. I rest my cheek on his bare chest, throw my leg over his groin and inhale him in his entire fresh water splendor. I sigh, letting the soft music and the feel of Jesse ease me into a peaceful rest.
'I love having you here.' he says quietly, playing with a lock of my hair.
I really love being here too, but not as a puppet. Would it always be like this? I could do exactly this, day in, day out a it's been a lovely day. But could I live with the controlling, unreasonable side of him? I run my finger along the line of his scar.
'I love being here too.' I whisper. I really do, especially when he's like this.
'Good. So you'll stay?'
What? Tonight? 'Yes. Tell me how you got this.'
He reaches down, clasping my hand to prevent any further touching of the area. 'Ava, I really don't like talking about it.'
Oh? 'I'm sorry.' I feel bad. That was a plea. Something terrible happened to him, and it makes me feel sick to know that he was hurt in some way.
He pulls my hand up to his face and kisses my palm. 'Please, don't be. It's not something that's important to the here and now. Dragging up my past serves no purpose other than to remind me of it.'
His past? So, he has a past? Well, everyone has a past, but the way he said it and the fact that we're talking about a vicious scar here makes me really nervous. I look up at him. 'What did you mean when you said that things are easier to bear when I'm here?'
He looks down and places his hand on the back of my head, pus.h.i.+ng my cheek back down to his chest. 'It means I like having you around.' His tone is dismissive. I don't believe him for a minute, but I leave it anyway. Does it matter?
I push my lips into the void between his pecs, nuzzling into him, while giving myself a mental ticking off. I'm basking in the sun on Central Jesse Cloud Nine, and I'm loving every minute of it, until the need for another countdown or a sense f.u.c.k.
And it will come a I have no doubt.
Chapter 35.
I wake abruptly and sit up in bed. I feel refreshed, revitalised and rested. This bed is way too comfortable. Getting back in mine after a few nights here is going to be a bit of a come down. The only thing that's missing is Jesse.
I peek under the covers, finding I'm still in my underwear, but the s.h.i.+rt has been removed. I don't remember coming to bed. I sit quietly for a few moments, listening to a constant whirring sound, accompanied by a consistent thud, thud, thud in the distance.
What is that?
I make the long journey to the edge of the bed and out onto the landing, where the sounds are slightly louder but still m.u.f.fled. I scan the s.p.a.ce below, seeing no sign of Jesse.
Deciding he must be in the kitchen, I make my way down the stairs, but as I approach the archway into the kitchen, I stop and back track. I look through the gla.s.s door to the gym, set on an angle just before the kitchen, and see Jesse in a pair of running shorts, going h.e.l.l for leather on the treadmill. Well, that explains the strange distant noise. I watch him running with his back to me, his solid expanse of skin s.h.i.+mmering with sweat beads as he watches the sports news on the suspended T.V in front of him.
I leave him be. I've already disturbed one run. I make my way into the kitchen to fill the kettle and go about making myself a coffee. It's not Starbucks, but it'll do.
The familiar sound of my phones ring tone fills the room, and I look across the kitchen to see it charging on the worktop. I scoop it up and disconnect it from the charger. It's my mother. I'm promptly reminded of her call to me yesterday a the one that I've not yet returned and really, really don't want to. My wide awake, good mood is instantly drowned out.
'Hi, Mum.' I greet cheerfully, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g my face up in apprehension. Here come the twenty questions.
'Oh, you're alive. Joseph, cancel the search party. I've found her!'
I roll my eyes at my mum's idea of funny. Obviously, she was expecting a call back before now. 'Point taken. What did Matt want?'
'I have no idea. The man never called us once when you were together. He asked how we were, made small talk, you know. It was all very strange. Why is he calling us, Ava?'
'I don't know, Mum.' I moan tiredly, but I suspect I do. He's on a worming mission.
'He mentioned another man.'
'He did?' My tone is high pitched, a complete give away to my surprise and probably my guilt too. d.a.m.n you, Jesse Ward, for intercepting my phone. It would have been easier to brush off Matt's tales if I didn't have to explain about the mystery man who answered my phone yesterday.
'Yes, he said you were seeing someone else. So soon, Ava. Really?'
'Mum, I'm not seeing someone else.' I do a quick check over my shoulder to make sure I'm still alone. I'm doing more than seeing someone. I'm in love with someone.
'Who was that man who answered your phone?'
'I told you, just a friend.' Please drop it!
'Good. You're in your mid-twenties, in London Town and fresh out of a s.h.i.+tty relations.h.i.+p. Don't be falling into the arms of the first man that shows you a bit of attention.'
I blush scarlet on the spot, even though she can't see me. I don't think you could describe what this man gives me as "a bit of attention". At only forty seven herself and having had Dan at just eighteen and me at twenty one, she missed out on all the benefits of being young in London. She's now retired in Newquay before the age of fifty. I know she won't be pleased if she finds out I'm being swallowed up in l.u.s.t.
'I won't, Mum. I'm just having lots of fun,' I a.s.sure her. I'm having fun all right. Just not the sort of fun that she has in mind. 'How's Dad?'
'Oh, you know. Golf mad, badminton mad, cricket mad. He has to keep on the go or he'll go mad.'
'It's better than sitting on his backside all day, though.' I say, collecting a mug from the cupboard. I make my way to the fridge.
'He made such a fuss about leaving the city, but I knew he would be dead in a few years if I didn't get him out. Now I can't tie him down for anything. He's always got something happening.'
I open the fridge a no milk. 'That's good, isn't it? Keeping him active?' I sit myself on the bar stool without my needed coffee.
'Oh, I'm not complaining. He's lost a few pounds too.'
'How much?' This is good. Everyone always said Dad was a walking heart attack candidate, with his weight, love of a few too many pints and a stressful job. As it turns out, everyone was right.
'Just over a stone,'
'Wow, I'm impressed.'
'No more than me, Ava. So, what have you got to report?'
Loads! 'Nothing much, I've been stacked out at work. I secured the next project from the developer of Lusso.' I need to talk work. I'll have no hair left if she starts prying into my social life.
'Brilliant! I was showing Sue the photos on the internet. The penthouse!' she sings.
Yes, I'm sat in it now. 'Yeah,' I need some wine.
'Can you imagine living in such luxury? Your Dad and I are not short of a few, but that's a whole other level of wealth.'
'It is,' I agree. Okay, the subject of work hasn't gone as I planned. 'What time does Dan land tomorrow?' I blurt to divert the conversation.
'Nine in the morning. Are you coming down with him?'
I flop forward onto the worktop. I've hardly given Dan's impending arrival a second thought. What with all the crazy s.h.i.+t going on, I've not had a chance. I feel guilty all of a sudden. I've not seen him for six months.
'I don't think so, Mum. I'm just so busy.' I whine, mentally pleading for her to understand.
'That's disappointing, but I understand. Maybe Dad and I could come up to see you when you've sorted a place of your own?' She's hinting that I need to pull my finger out. I've done nothing in that area of my life.
'That would be really good.' I don't fake my enthusiasm. I would love for Mum and Dad to come back to London for a visit. They haven't been back since they left, and I know it's because they both secretly worry they'll want to move back to the hustle and bustle.
'Wonderful. I'll speak to your Dad. I'd better go. Send my love to Kate.'
'I will, I'll ring next week when Dan's there.' I add quickly before she hangs up.
'Lovely. Take care, darling.'
'Bye, Mum.' I slide my phone across the counter and drop my head in my hands.
If only she knew. My Dad would probably have another heart attack if he found out about my current state of affairs, and my Mum would be moving me down to Newquay. The only reason my Dad didn't drive up after me and Matt split up was because Mum called Kate to find out if I really was okay. What would they think if they knew I was caught up with a neurotic, self-a.s.sured control freak, who is a in his own words a f.u.c.king me into oblivion? The fact that he's super wealthy and owns the penthouse would not soften the blow. Christ, Jesse is probably closer to my Mum in age than I am.
I swing round on my stool when I hear a commotion coming from outside of the kitchen. Getting up to go and investigate, I'm nearly taken off my feet when Jesse's naked chest flies at me.
WHOA!.
'f.u.c.king h.e.l.l, there you are.' He grabs me, lifting me up to his sweat riddled body. 'You weren't in bed.'
'I'm in the kitchen.' I splutter in my dazed state. He's squeezing me so tight, I'm struggling to breathe. 'I saw you running. I didn't want to disturb you.' I wriggle a little to indicate that I'm being constricted to death. He releases me, setting me back on my feet, his glistening, stubbled face giving me the once over. His panicked features ease a bit as he holds me steady by my forearms in front of him. 'I was just in the kitchen.' I repeat. He looks like he could keel over at any moment. What's wrong with him?
He shakes his head slightly, as if ridding himself of a nasty thought, picks me up and walks me to the worktop, sitting me on the cold granite. He pushes his way between my thighs.
'Sleep well?'
'Great.' Why does he look like someone's broken some really c.r.a.ppy news? 'Are you okay?'
He blesses me with a heart stopping smile. I feel instantly at ease. 'I woke up with you in my bed wearing lace. It's ten thirty on a Sunday morning and you're in my kitchen...' He runs his eyes down my front, 'wearing lace. I'm amazing.'
'You are?'
'Oh, I am.' He tips my face up, planting a light kiss on my lips. Oh, I could wake up to this every morning. 'You're too beautiful, lady.'
'So are you.'