Page 36 of Knots About You
‘Throw in one of those turnovers too.’
The smile on Eilidh’s face made me grumble as I tapped my phone.
‘Thanks,’ I said, and escaped before Morag could arrive the minute a whiff of gossip was available.
On the way to Rose Cottage, I rehearsed my restraint. Breakfast. Check her rope marks. Fix the window that was stiff yesterday.
Do not pin her down and ravish her.
Do not fall in love with her.
Claire opened the door before I knocked. Sleep-smudged eyeliner, paint flecks in her hair, and wearing nothing but myoversized jumper that she still hadn’t returned. Seeing it skim her naked thighs had me gripping the coffee cups extra tight.
‘Hi,’ she said casually, like she hadn’t writhed in my lap and moaned twelve hours previously.
‘I brought coffee and bacon.’ I lifted the bag. ‘And one of Eilidh’s apple turnovers.’
Claire danced on the spot and took the pink bag with glee. She took a hearty mouthful before even stepping into the house.
‘Oh my God,’ she groaned. When she swallowed, I ached to lean forward and press my lips to her throat. ‘Thank you. It’s so good. Here. Have a bite.’
She didn’t wait for me to answer before thrusting the gooey pastry into my mouth. When I made a face, Claire rolled her eyes.
‘We passed enough saliva between us yesterday that I’m sure you can’t be that horrified.’ Claire reached out and wiped an apple-y crumb from the side of my mouth with her thumb. Holding my gaze, she slowly licked it off.
Brat.
‘Come on, you. Inside before our coffee is cold.’
Miraculously, she obeyed without argument.
The bacon sizzled, filling the kitchen with the salty, meaty scent. Claire pulled her hair into a low, messy bun while watching me.
‘I could get used to a personal chef who likes dishing out orgasms.’
‘Such a dirty mouth,’ I said, setting the bacon rolls on the table and indicating that she should join me. We ate while discussing the village and its residents in light chatter.
‘Wrists,’ I demanded after we were done.
She held them out. The faintest of lines stayed, proving to me that the previous night hadn’t just been a dream. I stroked thelines with my thumbs, slow, because I was greedy for any excuse to touch her.
‘They look okay.’
‘I like it when you…’ She waved a hand at her wrist. ‘When you do this. Be all soft and practical.’
I cleared my throat.
‘Window next,’ I said. ‘It’s stiff.’
‘That’s what she said,’ Claire smiled, utterly without shame.
‘Behave,’ I told her, and went to fetch the screwdriver from my bag.
The latch was old. It took half an hour of tightening and adjusting to convince it to open and close easily. Claire leant in the doorway, watching me like a hungry cat.
We fell into an easy domesticity that I liked too much for my own good. I tightened the loose cupboard knob; she painted. Scruff thumped against the back door with a stick.
‘He’s going to deposit that on the doorstep,’ Claire said, taking a sip of her cold coffee and scrunching her nose.
