Page 8 of Knots About You
‘Gosh, you must have a very lucky girlfriend,’ I said, gripping the towel tight.
‘Mmm.’
Well, that was non-committal. I waited until he left the room before I let my shoulders droop. It’s not like I was naming our babies or anything. I peeled off my muddy, wet clothing, wrestling with the trousers while praying he wouldn’t walk in and get an eyeful of my bare backside.
Meowrse appeared, somewhat damper than before and sat on the rug in front of the wood burner, eyeing my fight with my trousers with interest.
‘Don’t suppose you know if he’s taken?’ I asked my new feline friend. ‘Not that I’m here for that sort of thing. Rebound is always a bad look.’
The trousers came off and slapped against the floor, sending another skittering of mud.
‘You okay?’ Came the rugged voice from somewhere in the house.
‘Yes. All good. Don’t come in!’ I squeaked back, towel drying my thighs at warp speed.
Standing in a hot stranger’s house in my damp underpants and bra wasn’t on my daily checklist. I rifled through the massive clothes he’d left for me, pulling on a thick knitted jumper that swamped me.
Good lord, he really was a tank of a man.
I could have cried as his large, cosy socks engulfed my feet. The grey jogging pants he’d left out were leagues too long, so I folded them up until I looked like I was wearing grey doughnuts around my ankles.
The moment I sat on one of the armchairs by the burner, Meowrse took up residence in my lap. His purring against my thighs was like a soothing device. It brought my pulse down several stops, and I relaxed back into possibly the comfiest chair in the world.
‘Traitor,’ Owen told the cat, fondly as he came in and scooped up my muddy clothes before coming back with a mop and clearing up the trail I’d left. He looked up at me with his dark hair tumbling into his eyes.
After cleaning up, Owen returned with a tray laden with tea, coffee and a plate teeming with biscuits. I helped myself to a steaming mug of coffee and nearly cried again as I wrapped my fingers around the hot ceramic.
‘So, do you want to tell me how you ended up crying in my barn?’
I had already bawled at him, stolen his towel and fallen in lust with his hands. I might as well fill him in. Especially seeing as he had chocolate hobnobs.
‘My friend Mads said I needed a reset,’ I said, trying to pull myself back to my London-level of composure, rather than the gremlin I’d morphed into. ‘Her uncle has a little cottage by the sea that needs a bit of work, and I needed an…escape. I thought maybe if I could be somewhere quiet, I could put myself back together again. I’m not normally like this.’ I swept a hand over myself to indicate the disaster.
Owen sat across from me, listening intently, but making little effort to join in. So I kept going.
‘My job blew up, and my ex turned out to be an absolute tool, and my roommate was banging her boyfriend all over my rug. And so I ended up here. I didn’t account for Scotland welcoming me with a tornado-level shower and a taxi driver who’s afraid of puddles. I’m normally very organised. Timetables, maps, and freshly pressed clothes. I don’t do…anything crazy like this.’
‘Maybe you do now,’ he said.
Meowrse snored a tiny cat snore in my lap while the storm battered the windows. And for a moment, it felt like I had found a little pocket of calm among the chaos.
‘I guarantee I’ll be back to my usual self tomorrow.’ I looked at Owen over the rim of the mug, and fought the urge to dunk a biscuit. Ladies don’t dunk. ‘Thank you. For rescuing me.’
‘Any time,’ he said. His eyes were the colour of the sea, well, on a much sunnier day. ‘We’ll get you sorted, Claire.’
Good lord. The way he rolled the R in my name was positively pornographic.
Meowrse opened one eye and chirruped at me. I scratched between his ears and was rewarded by a smug rumble. Owen watched the cat, then me, then the cat again, as if I’d bewitched it.
‘He really… likes you,’ he said. ‘He never?—’
‘It’s probably pity purring,’ I laughed.
Owen stared until it felt like he peeled me open. Like he probed beneath my skin with nothing but a look. It was…uncomfortable. Left me feeling like I’d made myself too vulnerable while he was shuttered. The conversation lulled, and for a second, we were just two people burrowed in warmth while the sky threw a tantrum outside.
‘Right,’ he said at last, setting his shoulders as he put his mug down. ‘Let’s find this cottage of yours and I’ll drive you home.’
‘What about my clothes?’
