Page 69 of Barging In
“Oh.” Clem’s face fell.
“Then I can show you everything else,” Victoria added with a smile.
Clem’s expression softened, clearly content with that arrangement.
As they reached the jetty, Clem pulled over and cut the engine. She jumped onto the bank, securing Florence with a rope.
“Thanks for the lift,” Victoria said, taking the hand Clem offered as she stepped onto the jetty.
“Anytime.”
Victoria couldn’t help but grin at what she now thought of as Clem’s signature phrase.
“And thanks for everything you did yesterday. I haven’t forgotten I owe you dinner.”
“Good,” Clem said with a playful tone. “That reminds me, I have something for you.”
She disappeared inside. A minute later, she reappeared holding a plastic container.
“Here, I baked you a lemon drizzle for your birthday.”
Victoria’s hand flew to her chest. “Oh, Clem.”
The urge to hug her came so fast and so strong that she didn’t have time to overthink it. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Clem, holding her close for a moment, then another and another. Clem’s grip tightened against her own, their rigid bodies softening into each other. Tension Victoria hadn’t realised she’d been carrying slipped away in the warmth of the embrace.
Eventually, she pulled back and pressed a soft kiss to Clem’s cheek. A flush rose on Clem’s face. Either she’d held on too tight, or Clem had enjoyed the embrace as much as she had.
Victoria took the box gently from her, placing her purse on top, and turned towards the gate. As she unlatched it, she swivelled around.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Clem replied, climbing back aboard, her broad smile unmissable.
As Victoria made her way up the path, she found her eyes were damp. She wiped them as the low thrum of an engine drifted after her. Florence was sailing away and with her, Clem, leaving a hollow ache inside Victoria. No one had ever baked something for her before. Drew hadn’t even given her a birthday present. He probably thought his presence at the party was gift enough.
She forced her mind away from him to somewhere more pleasant… back to that hug. Was it wrong, she wondered, to imagine more? To picture herself in Clem’s arms, that warm, tingling rush spread through her chest; the way Clem wrapped around her, made her feel safe and, more than anything, seen?
And what if she let her thoughts drift further? To kissing her. Peeling away her clothes. Touching her bare skin. Would that be cheating? How would it feel to wake up beside her, skin to skin, limbs tangled in quiet contentment? It stirred something deep inside her, something she thought had long since gone quiet. A longing. A desire. But should she even be thinking about Clem like that? Wasn’t that wrong?
But why should she hold herself back from something she wanted? Drew hadn’t; he did whatever he pleased and more. So why not her?
Because she wasn’t him. That was why.
With a resigned sigh, she headed on up the path, leaving the thought — and Florence’s fading engine — behind her.
CHAPTER 17
Clem clutched a weighty box containing a chocolate cake to her chest, trying not to lose her grip on it whilst clutching two heavy bags of delights in her other hand. She should have made two trips to the wharf, as she had on previous mornings, but with only one of her largest cakes ordered today, it hadn’t seemed worth it. It was too late now, so she ploughed on across the bridge.
It crossed her mind to pop in on Victoria whilst she was there. Having spent so much time with her over the weekend, Clem felt her absence after a few days apart. Her cheek prickled at the thought of their parting hug and kiss on the jetty.
All the work she’d poured into the party had been worth the effort. So was the last-minute lemon drizzle she’d thrown together while Victoria slept the morning after. It was probably what had earned her that kiss. As much as she enjoyed it, the real reward came earlier that morning with the unexpected news: Victoria wasn’t straight. Not that it changed anything. Victoria had madeher position painfully clear. She was a married woman and intended to stay that way.
Over the past few days, Clem had found herself overanalysing their conversation that night after the party. She’d started to wonder if she’d pushed too hard, probed too deeply into things she had no right to ask about. It had only served to make herself angry and Victoria upset; forcing the issue helped no one.
It felt too similar to how Victoria’s parents had handled things with her, and Clem knew exactly how that had ended. She needed to stop forcing the matter and instead find a way to become what Victoria needed: someone to talk to, someone who would listen, and, most importantly, someone who tried to understand. Victoria’s situation was messy — mostly a mess of her own making — but Clem understood it well enough now to try and meet her where she was, as hard as that might be.
“Here, let me help,” came Victoria’s voice from somewhere ahead.
