The week passed with little to no drama. Life slid back into the norm for Rose and she pushed the encounter from her mind, trying to focus on just getting on as before. She began work on her new commission, which took most of her days lost in her imagination. Paint flowing onto paper and locked away from everyone. Abby came by and never mentioned anything about Rob or the dance again. Not that she needed too, and Rose quelled every urge to do so herself, in a bid to get her childish crush under control.
Rob had kept his distance and even in passing, a small polite smile, which never looked genuine and never any conversation. He was keeping his distance, being a gentleman and his usual attempts at humour with her were gone. Rose felt deflated and tried to push it all down deep inside. Tried to ignore the ball of anxiety building up inside her and push the heaviness away. Disappointment becoming her constant companion where Rob Munro was concerned.
Matt thankfully never re-appeared. Anytime she heard any sounds resembling a motorbike roar, she would hide in her cottage adamant she wouldn’t answer the door, but luckily, he never came knocking again.
Life settled back into pre-dance days and when Rose finally got around to cleaning out her clutch bag she found a folded sheet of paper pushed neatly inside. She didn’t recognise the light cream paper and pulled it out to unfold its silky smoothness. It was the prize certificate of a slave for the day with Rob Munro’s name on it. Obviously put there by Abby when they had found her bag under a chair that night. Her stomach flipped. Not sure what she should do, she pushed it back into her bag, but then pulled it slowly back out.
There was a mobile phone number under his name on the printed card. Directions to contact your ‘slave’ to finalise details. She stood motionless, pondering it for a moment, silently gazing at the number. A thought began to form in her head, slowly and surely and building into a very stupid idea.
Had it been almost a week? Surely, he wouldn’t still be mad, right?
Despite Muffins large knowing eyes. watching her in dry speculation, she knew if she hesitated that she would lose courage, so immediately grabbed her phone. Punching in the message and number and hitting send as soon as earthly possible, in case she changed her mind. Once she did her common sense kicked in fully and forcefully and regret washed over her. She looked at the sent text ‘I believe I have slave services to recoup!’ It was so desperate and corny.
Fuck, f**k, f**k!
What the heck did she do that for? Was she really so desperate to see him that she had lowered herself to this? Forcing him to come to her?
The agony of waiting for a reply that you really regretted even sending was far worse than she could imagine. Her hands began to shake, her stomach flipped, and her nerves went into overdrive. No guy had ever made her feel this crazy scared over a stupid text. What was she doing?
‘I believe you do!’
Beeped onto her phone seconds later, making her stomach flip and butterflies take hold.
Argh, what the heck kind of response was that?
She could read nothing in that message. Short, blunt and emotionless. No hint of whether it was a calm response, an angry one or an amused one. She felt even more uptight now. Taking a moment to steady her nerves, trying to not overreact to so little information and think out a response.
‘So, when are you free?’
Aloof. Yes, that was a good reply.
It gave nothing away, no hint at how much of a hot mess she was right now. It took a few minutes for the response this time and each second was agonisingly long.
Rose felt like an i***t standing with the phone in her hand, motionless in the middle of her room. Unable to lay it down and staring pensively at it.
‘I can do four hours this afternoon, and four hours tomorrow. If that doesn’t suit, then will have to be next week when I get back from London.’
Rose’s heart rate elevated, her hands trembling. Stopping herself from the immediate reply of YES, YES, YES, she held back waiting to seem less eager. She had no idea why she was having such a meltdown in reaction to his responses. It was not like they were going on a date; she was simply forcing him to come be in her company for two half days. Hardly something to be proud of.
Looking up at the mirror, taking in her appearance, she suddenly had the urge to bath, fix her hair and put on a dress.
Oh my god, what was she doing? This guy had a girlfriend! Sort of...Well, possibly.
Even Abby did not know, and he was mad at her for sure. Maybe? Not that he said he was, but well, he seemed really pissed that night. Maybe she was reading into that too much, but he sure had been distant and cool at every meeting in the last few days.
Was it hatred for Matt or was it that he liked her?
Surely, she was wrong about that. Did she care? This was more about her wanting him to come over.
‘See you this afternoon then. xx’
She folded, sending him a text without the premeditated review of what she was writing.
Fuck, why did she add kisses?
Too late the text was sent.
‘Sure. Be up at 2pm then x’ This time his response was immediate.
He responded with a kiss!
Rose almost gushed with stupid giddy teenage delight. She needed to stop over reacting to every tiny detail when it came to this guy, she really was losing her marbles. People added kisses to texts all the time, it meant nothing. Abby always added three. Her mum five. Rose was the queen of kisses on texts.
It was more of a nice sign off than anything, right?
Saving his number properly in her phone, she caught herself looking at his final message a few more times in a really stalkerish fashion and gave herself a shake. Even for her, it was being obsessively weird, and she had to snap out of this. Anyone would think she had never fancied a man before in her life. She had to admit though, no one man had ever gotten under her skin the way he did.
It was noon and she really needed to pick up some of her mess.
No! She needed a bath!
Torn between cleaning up and grooming, she opted for the latter, and headed to dig out her scented bath products with nervous excitement. Nothing at all to do with his impending arrival of course. She just wanted to be fresh and lovely and made up for herself.
* * *
True to his text, she heard his car pull up at 2pm on the dot. After much preening and pacing and clock watching and ignoring Muffin staring at her knowingly.
Peeking out of the small work room curtains, she could see the sleek sporty black car park neatly beside her own pink car. Watched him slide effortlessly out, wearing a printed t-shirt with a faded vintage logo on front, jeans and trainers. Somehow the casual attire made him seem so much more youthful and carefree than his normal white shirts and tailored pants and a lot more sexually devastating. Her heart quickened as she smoothed down her floral dress and checked her loose hair and makeup. She looked pretty. Not overdone, just natural and feminine. Her nerves already jangling.
‘You stay here.’ She commanded, watching no protest as Muffin curled up under her desk to take a nap, she closed him in the room out of the way.
The chap at the door sent her nerves into a spin and she hurried to let him in. He seemed larger today, towering above her, more in the absence of her heeled shoes. His frame taking over the doorway. His hands were shoved into his pockets as he smiled and followed her into the hallway; both seemed unsure as to what to say and stood for a moment awkwardly, looking at one another. He broke the silence first.
‘You look really pretty today, Rose.’ His gaze was focused on her face after his eyes had swept over her dress. Each moment had given her goosebumps as though he was physically touching her and she high-fived herself inwardly for choosing the strappy one with extra cleavage moulding abilities. She smiled a thank you and physically had to stop herself from reaching out to run a hand over that close hard stomach, inches in front of her. It just cried out to be uncovered and nibbled. She scolded herself inwardly.
Calm your blood down missy!
‘So, have you figured out what you want me to do for you?
Well that was a question with numerous responses.
His eyes were taking in her bodice as he spoke, it was obvious he was trying not to look at her ample cleavage and failing. Typical male move, but somehow it was not offensive in the way it had been with Matt when his eyes devoured her, instead it upped her heart rate and started a little volcano low in her pelvis. He returned his gaze to her eyes, regaining that cool control and giving nothing away. The only clue to any change was the lightening of the grey colour to a smooth pale hue. She had never known someone whose eye colour could change like a mood ring.
‘Umm yeah. Well, I could do with some help in the kitchen. Need some doors sanded to white wash later and have kept putting it off.’ She was unbelievably nervous and finding his gaze hard to stand. It had taken her the entire time in the bath to figure out what she would ask him to do while here. Aware that she had got him over without any other intention than to see him again.
‘In that dress?’ He frowned with a hint of a smile and again the eyes ran over her figure.
‘Yeah, maybe I should change, I guess.’ She felt incredibly dumb. She must have looked like a horny desperate housewife, waiting for the labourers to arrive.
‘No, it’s okay. I can do whatever needs to be done. You stay like that... You can supervise; I’ll need to take the doors out back for the dust.’ He avoided her eyes with his response, instead looking down at her skirt. He seemed for the first time in all the encounters between them, unsure too. She didn’t know what to make from what he had said; maybe he just liked her dress and there was nothing in this at all.
His bulky frame in the hall made standing apart almost impossible, suddenly aware of how close they actually were and how shallow her breathing had become, Rose moved off, leading the way to the kitchen. She needed to get some distance, so she could at least act like a normal person in front of him. She felt the heat from behind her as he followed closely, and it was still causing havoc with her own body temperature, the silence almost deafening.
It did not take long for the atmosphere to begin to settle between them. First, hot flushes of being in his company again began to simmer down, although she was finding it impossible to keep her eyes from devouring him anytime he wasn’t looking. The distance between them and initial awkwardness at seeing him again smoothing away.
Coffee was poured and half-drunk while he expertly removed her cupboard doors with the power drill left behind by Abby. He moved the drawer and door fronts to the garden and set up a makeshift trellis from chairs and old wooden planks found in the outhouse; making a call to a friend and twenty minutes later a vaguely familiar local boy deposited a bag of tools and sandpaper at the front door. Rose smiled her thanks and helped Rob move it all to the garden. Making sure she kept her distance as it was the only way she could really function normally around him.
Pulling out an electric sander and extension cable he set up, mask on and began to remove years of antique pine wax and grime from the wooden doors. Rose could not help but watch him with baited breath, every tensed muscle and male movement had her light headed.
Mesmerised by the sheer turn on of a gorgeous male, tanned muscles straining under semi-fitted work clothes, doing some manly manual task. She suddenly saw the appeal of men’s calendars depicting sweaty mechanics and tree surgeons and had to keep chastising herself. Dragging her gaze elsewhere and finding small tasks to occupy her in the kitchen and garden. She took a couple of strolls inside to cool her burning cheeks and calm her overly hormonal self by sticking her head in the freezer. Several pep talks about keeping control of her raging lust were doing nothing to make her insides behave. She really was hopelessly smitten with this one.
Keeping him supplied with cool drinks, sandwiches and occasional light conversation was all a bit much for her. Rose really did have the worst kind of lust for this man. The kind that robbed you of appetite and sleep and made you behave like a prepubescent teen, discovering hormones for the first time. Given half the chance she would be humping his leg and licking his face.