Once through the turnstiles, when he looked back, she was still there.
So he stopped and stabbed a finger toward the doors behind her.
She rolled her eyes, but she got her arse moving.
Oh, aye.
Totally adorable.
Dair texted her when the train was underway and called when he got home. He also sent her a picture of Sorcha after he retrieved her. The snap of his dog looked like she was smiling.
Her reply to his picture of Sorcha was so many double pink hearts, he had to scroll down twice.
Absolutely, he loved that she loved his dog.
And he loved that she was falling in love with him.
He took that opportunity to make the picture of her and Sorcha at the park his lock screen photo.
He called her the next evening, and they drank a glass of wine together long distance while she did most of the prattling. This chiefly consisted of her shock at the abundance of her mother’s clothes and “I don’t think in forty years she’s given that first thing away. This is like a museum to St. Laurent, Gucci, McQueen, and I could go on.”
Blake had, however, also asked about Davi and his mum, and gently probed into how he felt about speaking to his dad and the shite Signe was pulling. He was not gentle in his replies that he wasn’t fond of either.
He called her the next morning, and made her come with his voice, and listening to her climax, she made him come with the assistance of his hand.
They spoke again, briefly, in the evening because, “You’d think this would not be a complaint ever in my entire life, but I’m covered in Prada and Givenchy, honey. I will never consider myself a clotheshorse again after sorting through this tangle. We’re about to lick it here, so I can take the train to Treverton tomorrow. But I want to fill a couple more boxes before I give up for the night.”
As such, he’d let her go so she could crack on with it.
In the meantime, Dair had decided to set aside what Rix had told him.
He was not unaware that Blake had worked hard to change her ways. How she’d treated her sister was not good nor was it right. But it was done.
This Blake, his Blake, was a different woman.
It was in everything she said, everything she did, and how everyone around her treated her.
She hadn’t been at his house with him for long, but they’d either been with each other or within a walk from one room to another for some time.
The short while they’d been separated, Dair already felt the keen sense of missing having her near, and he knew that was in a way this feeling was communicating something deeper.
He wanted her with him.
All the time.
The morning after that, she texted him, telling him she’d be on the afternoon train back to Treverton, wishing him luck with his lunch with his father and reminding him to call her as soon as he could on his return home.
He didn’t miss she was worried about him because she didn’t hide it.
He didn’t want her to worry, but even so, he loved that too.
He replied with a red heart.
And two hours later, he got in his car to go have lunch with his dad.
The door to the office was closed, and any additional chairs that normally sat around the circular conference table in the corner by one of the windows had been taken away.
The table was covered in food.
