Whilst sipping my hot, strong tea in his living room, I feel very aware that I am completely naked under James’ robe, causing my shyness, with him being fully dressed. We sit in the making small talk, mainly about the centre or anything to take my mind off being naked in his robe. Listening to his schedule, it does seem that he has been very busy getting everything running smoothly, sorting out staff, bookings, advertising etc, but all is going well. Although I’m interested, I can’t help feeling slightly dissatisfied that the small talk is so unlike the intimacy we just had in the stream – like we are hiding from something. “Can I ask about your map and why it has a red cross on it?” I ask pointing above the fireplace, still curious about it.
“That’s from when I stayed at your house in the summer holidays between year two and three at university, when your mum and dad still lived in the village. Mark and I went walking and I saw a valley from a hill we’d climbed. I marked the red, cross on my map because it was the exact spot where one day wanted to open an outward bound centre. I’ve kept the map ever since and had it framed, when I got planning permission for the centre.”
“Does Mark remember it?” I ask feeling glad that the conversation is becoming more meaningful.
“Yes, he was over the moon for me as he knew it was what I planned to do after making enough money working every waking hour in London to save up. I’m not sure if he remembers this map exactly, but he has always known about my dream. I got the name of the centre from Mark–The Northern Edge”
“Really? I’d wondered where the name came from. How did that come about?” I ask.
“Well whenever we did any climbing, I always had the edge on him. He used to joke, that I had the edge, because I come from the north, so am naturally toughened to the harder conditions. It became a bit of a jokey catch phrase between us, so it seemed a fitting name. Actually it was his idea.”
“That’s his excuse is it? I’ll remind him of that next time I beat him at orienteering. He can’t say I have the northern edge. Where exactly are you from James?” I ask now curious.
“Lancashire. My mum and dad still live there. Anyway how’s your list Lizzie – ticked off any more tasks yet?” he enquires changing the subject as if he’s revealed enough.
“No I’ve not. Since I last saw you things have been rather quiet; however, I am starting to think about my next item, which is hosting a dinner party. It’s something I’ve never got around to and would love to do, so it’s next. I spend so much time catering for The Tea Cosy, I don’t cook so much at home, but I’d like to cook for my friends some time. And I’m sure it’ll be a breeze compared to gorge crossing.”
Now you may think wanting to host a dinner party is mad – all the work, cooking and cleaning, but don’t forget that I love cooking and am in my element when trying out new recipes and basically feeding people delicious offerings. I don’t know why I’ve not done it before – perhaps it’s a thing you do when you are part of a couple, but what the heck I’m doing it my way!
“Sounds good, so who has the honour of being invited?” James enquires.
“Well I thought Kate and Ben; Ruth and Pete; maybe Tabitha and Mark and, if you’re free, you are welcome to join us.” ...What am I doing – asking him out? He will now have to quickly think of an excuse to get out of it.
“I’d love to come. Let me know when, and I’ll be there if I can,” he replies with a smile, which I hope means he does want to come.
After changing into James’ clothes, which contain his delicious smell, I stand at the door to thank him for his help as he hands me a bag with my smelly clothes. Kiss me please. These are my thoughts – I didn’t say this out loud you understand. He moves towards me and ... no, no, no ... straight up to peck the top of my forehead with a type of kiss that you give to your friend’s younger sister. That’s not the sort of kiss I want, but at least it’s a kiss.
Heading home with Sally, who has had a fantastic time splashing in the stream with Jack, I mull the situation over in my mind. He has had many opportunities to kiss me if he wanted to and hasn’t. My heart sinks slightly as I come to the conclusion that he is just friendly and kind. What do you think?
Note to self
The following morning, having washed James’ clothes, which no longer have his lovely smell after I hugged them so much, I decide to walk back to his cottage to return them. Returning his clothes gives provides me with a legitimate excuse to call and I can also let him know the date of my dinner party, which I have now sorted out after calling the others.
I have dressed in what I hope is a an outfit that looks as though I’ve just thrown it together, but of course, it has taken me several hours to achieve this look, adding subtle makeup to finish it off. With my wrap around dress and hair tied loosely in a pony tail, I am hoping to have achieved that effortless, yet sexy country-girl style. If he doesn’t make a move after this, then I have decided that I am going to forget about him as he is clearly not interested. He has had too many opportunities to make a move if he wanted to.
On approaching the track to his house, I feel an excited, nervous shiver and my heart rate increases slightly in anticipation of seeing him again. Maybe this time he will kiss me properly – a full-on snog. I’ve especially worn my strawberry lip balm this morning so my lips are subtly soft – just in case.
Knocking on the door, I quickly brush myself down and wait for a response, wearing what I hope is a desirable smile on my face. As the door opens, my smiles drops and is replaced with a hesitant frown, as a tall, tanned, glamorous woman stands there looking at me. Her polished, sleek appearance now makes my ensemble look like something from the local jumble sale. “Hi, can I help you?” she questions in a confident tone as her silky chestnut hair falls around her shoulders like hair does in those TV shampoo adverts.
“Erm ... is James in at all – I just have to drop this off for him?” I ask holding up the limp, plastic bag.
“He’s a bit busy right now – tell you what – I’ll pass it to him, shall I? Who shall I say has called?”
“Errm ... Lizzie,” I say turning to go, after assessing and now understanding the situation and why he’s never made a move on me. At that moment, James appears fresh out of the shower with just a towel around his waist and water droplets dripping down his toned chest. He sees me and looks slightly uneasy. Normally I would start to drool at this point, but after seeing this glossy, perfect woman – I feel as though I’ve been smacked in the face with a hard fruit cake.
“Oh darling,” the woman says whilst delicately placing a hand on James’ chest. “I hadn’t realised you were finished. Lizzie was just dropping off this bag for you. Unfortunately we can’t invite you in Lizzie; James is spoiling me and taking me out for a meal,” the woman practically purrs like a cat rubbing up to its owner wanting food. James hesitates for a moment as if a little removed from the whole situation.
“Yes thanks Lizzie.” He then hurriedly adds, “I’ll see you soon.”
“No problem,” I reply and turn back down the track with a heavy heart. It is now totally obvious why James has not kissed me when he already has a very beautiful (if slightly false – in my biased opinion) girlfriend. He evidently does just view me as Mark’s little sister whom he is kind to, but I can’t help feeling stung, even though I have no right to. James has never been more than kind to me, perhaps the odd cheeky comment at times, but then don’t older brother’s friends tease their friend’s younger sisters?
Later on when Ruth comes into The Tea Cosy for a cake and chat, I tell her and Kate what happened at James’ cottage. I hate fruit cake with a passion, so it’s always on the menu when I am feeling a little sad or upset. Both of them did think James seemed to have a soft spot for me, but the appearance of a girlfriend also explains his lack of interest in anything other than friendship. “I don’t know,” says Ruth, “there’s something that’s not quite right Lizzie. I find my gut instinct is usually right and I really thought that he would pursue you in his own time. After all we don’t know if she actually is his girlfriend. Maybe I am wrong, but I don’t feel as though this is the end for you and James.”
“The end? There hasn’t even been a beginning, and from where I was standing, James and this woman looked pretty close. She had her hands all over his chest. No, I’m going to cut my losses and move on – focus on my list and my dinner party.” Both Ruth and Kate display signs of excitement about my dinner party, which lifts my spirits slightly and at least I can focus on developing the perfect menu.
I spend that evening, distracting myself from thoughts of James, pouring over my recipe books determined to find the most delicious comforting dishes, when, in reality, my friends would be happy with a bacon sandwich. Tabitha and Mark are coming and now that I know Tabitha better, I am quite sure she would be happy with that as well, as long as it’s not in front of her posh friends. When I was staying with her and Mark, she did admit she has posh friends and that it was sometimes tiresome, joining in and playing the part of the middle class London girlfriend, but at times it was also enjoyable and fun. She also added that the problems start when she plays the posh part for her real friends. I find her honesty refreshing, along with her fun-like ability to mock herself, which she did when I asked if she wanted to borrow my copy of Heat magazine.
Kate and I have decided that after the dinner party, we can have a girly night at hers to go through her ideas for her wedding, which I’m looking forward to because we never seem to have had much chance to discuss it at The Tea Cosy. It seems such a long time off, but with summer stomping along and autumn creeping towards us, time is running away. It will be lovely to get our heads together and come up with ideas to make Kate’s (and Ben’s) day special.
A few days later, whilst preparing cake in The Tea Cosy, thoughts of Kate’s wedding are in my mind as I sprinkle chocolate drops into the chocolate brownie mixture I’ve just made. I sprinkle away, imagining the confetti being thrown on Kate and Ben, then her gliding down the aisle as I glide the mixture into the tray. Cooking is like my sanctuary – when in the moment creating something that somebody will enjoy, I totally focus on my task and indulge on the calming effect it has on my mind, almost like therapy. Popping the tray into the oven and carefully removing a batch of chocolate chip cookies, I inhale their warm, sweet smell, satisfied with my efforts.
“Mmmmmmmm, something smells good!” James exclaims loudly as he pops his head into the kitchen at the back of The Tea Cosy. I jump with surprise managing to toss the whole tray of my beautiful cookies in the air. Time slows as I look up to see my somersaulting biscuits high above me, then time turned to warp speed as the biscuits pelt me full on the face before hitting the floor into a crumbly mess. James looks surprised, “Sorry I didn’t mean to startle you, but I did shout and there was no answer,” he stammers. I just stand there covered in gooey chocolaty crumbs and stare down at the cookie carnage on the floor.
Instantly I stop feeling any of the therapeutic effect I had created by my baking endeavours. “Arrgh–my cookies–bugger! I didn’t hear you and now look what you’ve made me do.” I let loose my frustrations with James, as he is NOT in my good books right now. “Was there something you actually wanted?” I ask sharply as I try to brush crumbs from all over me and at the same time smearing the chocolate chips into unattractive brown smears – thankfully not around the bottom area.
“I just wanted to pop in and thank you for returning my clothes the other day and – well -explain about Natalie,” James says as he brushes the biscuits up from the floor using the broom I have thrust into his hands.
“Natalie is–your girlfriend?” I reply trying not to seem bothered.
“No Lizzie, you don’t understand. Natalie is not my girlfriend–well she was, but she’s not now. When I worked in the city, we were an item, but we took a break. She still wanted things to work, but I’ve known for a while that it’s not going anywhere and it’s not fair to let her think that we have any future.” James pauses briefly whilst he pours reaches for the dust pan. “She’s been abroad for a few weeks, so I haven’t been able to talk to her. I was taking her out the night you came over, to finally explain things and basically–end it.” James runs his hand through his hair and for the first time ever, seems unsure of himself.
“Oh right – okay, but why are you explaining this to me James?” I ask feeling hopeful, but trying to act cool or as cool as you can, covered in chocolate crumbs.
“Well Lizzie, you must realise that you’ve been driving me crazy ever since I discovered you naked in Bluebell Woods looking breathless and, well, quite crazy. Then catching you singing and dancing unawares was so funny, if slightly straining on the ears. Natalie and I had been together for five years, yet you quickly stirred up more feelings in me in the first five minutes than she has ever done in years. This really made me think and confirmed my decision that Natalie and I were just coasting and things were not right. The when I saw you with the body chocolate, I was gutted thinking you must have a boyfriend. I even called Mark and enquired after you to see if he knew. He told me you were single and I knew I needed to sort things out with Natalie soon. She came over, because I wanted to end things in person amicably with her – I owed her that. I heard your voice when I was in the shower, but couldn’t say anything because I hadn’t spoken with Natalie, but now I have. It’s over between us. So I’m hoping I can finally do this.”
“Do what?” I ask.
“This.” Finally, he takes me in his strong arms, looks deeply into my eyes and leans his face down towards mine – my lips this time – yeah! As our lips touch, I am transported to the world of this kiss, as if everything else has been standing still, whilst we are the only two people on the planet who are still moving. His lips brush mine, gently at first and then deeper and firmer as I respond to him. His arms slide down my back and rest on my lower back, as his thumbs graze slightly lower, gently stroking and squeezing my bum. When I lean into him, I feel the full effect I obviously have on him. I am not sure how long we kissed for, but it must have been a while as a burning smell quickly and reluctantly brings me to my senses.
“Oh bugger – my carrot cake!” I say as I abruptly break away from the kiss to open the oven and pull out a rather well-done, unsellable cake. “James you are not doing anything helpful for my cakes today!”
“Sorry I couldn’t stop. I’ve wanted to do that for some time now. Look I need to get back to the centre now and you need to make more cakes, but can we get together this week to talk properly and maybe continue where the burning smell interrupted us? Are you free this Saturday night?” he replies taking me into his arms again as any irritations over the carrot cake float away out of the open window along with the burning smell.
“I can’t. It’s my dinner party on Saturday, but you could come?” I ask in child-like hope.
“Yes, I’d love to, but I really wanted to see you on your own. I’m busy every night at the centre this week. Could you come and see me there on Friday morning? We have a change of guests for the weekend and I can’t leave, but I could get a few hours away to see you after the mid-week guests leave.”
“I’ll check with Kate, but I need to be back here for lunch because we’re always busy on Fridays. Let’s swap numbers and I’ll text you later.”
After some frantic tapping into mobiles, he leans in and starts kissing me again, but this time more firmly with passion, having me pinned up against the worktop his body pressed against mine. He suddenly pulls away, his stern Heathcliff frown back on his face.
“Lizzie, I really have to go now before this goes further – I’ve had to control myself around you for too long. Remember when you fell on top of me on your visit to the centre and then when you were sitting in my house talking to me, naked, apart from my bath robe?” He shakes his head, “It’s killing me, and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep up this control, so I really have to go now,” he says huskily with a lustful look in his eyes.
“Ah so that’s what your stern, Heathcliff look means?” I say out loud, when really I should have just thought this in my head.
“My what look?”
“Never mind – just go. I need to bake!”
As he walks out of the door, I feel giddy. Has that just really happened to me – Lizzie Parker? This is all new territory for me – a man who makes me feel light-headed with lust–what’s more I seem to make him feel that way too – go girl!
Minutes later, after I manage to compose myself from the heated encounter, a beeping distracts me from the mess I still need to clean up. It’s my phone ... and James has just sent me a text.
“You won’t get away so easily next time!” it reads.
Notes to self