Page 19 of Christmas at the Home Farm Vets
‘I’ve got to go back. I can’t just disappear, it wouldn’t be fair on everyone else.’
Oli nodded reluctantly, resting his hands on her waist. He kissed her forehead and then her cheek, and she found his mouth again, impatient for more. He lifted her up, and she was drunk on this new and dizzying exhilaration. Dusk was approaching, stars beginning to glitter above them, and she’d never felt more alive in her life.
‘I’m sorry about your shirt.’ His smile was a rueful one as he put her down. ‘I just wanted to get you out of there and my drink was the first thing that came to mind. Maybe it won’t show if you tuck it in?’
‘Swap with me.’ She laughed at his surprise as she rapidly undid the buttons on her shirt. He watched as she pulled it off and stood before him in her black skirt and a white lace bra.
‘Erin, you have no idea what you do to me,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Do you really have to go?’
‘Yes. I won’t let them down. I’m not staying here, not even for you, Oli Sterling.’ She tossed her shirt into the air, and he caught it. ‘Give me yours.’
He slipped his dinner jacket off and undid the bow tie, stuffing it into a pocket. The jacket fell to the ground, joining her shirt now he’d dropped it. Oli unfastened his own shirt, and her breath caught as he took it off and held it out with a lazy grin. ‘I think it’s too big for you.’
‘I don’t care. It’s yours and I’m going to wear it.’ She slid it on and fastened the buttons, tucking it into her skirt. It smelled of him, a heady vanilla and bourbon scent that filled her senses whenever he was near. She turned to leave, assailed by a panic that very soon they’d be going their separate ways for the summer.
‘When will I see you again? When will we find the time?’
‘Soon,’ he said quickly, tugging her against his bare chest for one last, lingering kiss. ‘I don’t know how, but we will. Trust me, Erin.’
Chapter Eight
Hartfell, present day
By Friday and the end of their first week, Erin was gradually settling into a new routine at home with Oli. She avoided him in the mornings by eating breakfast early and arriving at the practice before everyone else, and he would follow about thirty minutes later. They sat through the staff briefings and wherever possible she confined conversation to work and little else. He’d eaten out every evening so far and she had no idea where he went; she was generally in bed by the time he returned.
She and Gil usually split the farm calls in the mornings and picked up whatever else needed doing in the afternoons, from consultations and routine tasks like dentals, to other surgeries and emergencies. This evening there was a live nativity procession through the village, followed by carols with the local brass band outside the church. She would be on call from Saturday and was hoping for a relatively quiet weekend. For now out-of-hours calls on weekday evenings were covered by two alternating agency locums.
She had intended to go home and shower before Oli arrived but an emergency call to a cow with a nasty gash on its face put paid to her plans. The farm was almost twenty miles away and the day was already edging towards dusk when she set out. A cold, frosty evening was on the way, and she always carried extra layers, snacks and a shovel in the pickup in case of snow.
When she reached the farm the cow was already secured in a metal crush, a narrow pen holding her firmly in place, and the worried farmer explained that he thought she’d caught herself on a post she’d worn loose scratching herself. Erin examined the beautiful red-and-white Dales Shorthorn cow and set about neatly stitching the wound back together, arranging with the farmer to remove the stitches another day.
Oli wasn’t in when she arrived home, and she was glad to warm up beneath a shower. She darted into the hall afterwards, thinking about whether she could one day extend the kitchen and put a sofa bed in the sitting room so her mum could…
‘Oh!’ She skidded to a halt at the sight of Oli at the kettle, a mug in his hand. Clutching the towel tightly with trembling fingers, her face flamed. ‘I thought you weren’t coming back!’
‘What, ever?’ he quipped, busy with the box of teabags.
‘No, before tonight,’ she muttered, trying not to shiver. She told herself it was because of the cold.
‘I was making you a brew. Thought it would be a chilly one, treating that cow.’ He turned around and the mug in his hand clattered onto the worktop. ‘Sorry. I didn’t realise you weren’t, er…’
‘It’s fine.’ It wasn’t at all. Her pulse was racing, and she hadn’t missed the low note in his hurried apology and the way his eyes had skimmed over her. The last time she’d faced him similarly dressed she’d whipped off her shirt to stand before him in her bra and a short skirt right after they’d kissed. She was thinking of it now, his mouth demanding and skilful on hers, and how she’d instinctively known how to respond even though she’d never been kissed before.
‘Would you mind some company at the nativity?’ Oli hastily turned away and switched the kettle on. ‘I thought maybe we could walk down together. Jess mentioned everyone’s going to the pub afterwards.’
‘Isn’t it a bit… rural, for someone like you?’
‘And what do you mean by that?’ He sounded more amused than annoyed, and Erin tried to clarify.
‘I didn’t have you down as someone who enjoyed village life, that’s all. I always imagine you more at home in the city.’
‘I can do rural with the best of them. So what else do you imagine about me?’
‘Nothing.’ She swallowed, clutching the towel a bit tighter. She could do without that playful tone. ‘Will you be ready in time? I’m leaving soon.’ They could arrive together, she supposed, it wasn’t like she’d have to spend the entire evening with him.
‘Right now I’m more ready than you.’ Oli’s eyes flickered to her face, and she saw the smile he was trying to hold back. ‘What about your brew?’
‘Sorry, I don’t think I’ve got time. It was a nice thought, though. Thanks.’
