‘I know you can. Doesn’t mean I can’t help you.’
‘Yes, yes. Let’s play.’ Cherry unwound the cord and stepped back.
‘You know, it’s okay if you’re bothered about stuff,’ Sean said. ‘About annulling the marriage, me going to Tennessee. It’s okay to admit you don’t want either of those things.’
‘Don’t make this more difficult, Sean, please.’ She lifted her cap and adjusted her ponytail. He took the moment to reassert his feelings.
‘For the record, I don’t want either of those things half as much as I want to stay here and be married to you.’
Cherry held her hands at the back of her head, allowing his words to hit her, until the ponytail slowly dropped back down, swinging in the wake of his honesty. ‘That’s an incredible sentiment, but what am I meant to do? Ask you to give it all up for a car crash of a wife?’
‘Yes, that would be the perfect thing to ask.’
Up went one indignant eyebrow.
‘Yousaid you were a car crash. I was agreeing to the “giving it up” bit.’
She pouted. ‘Just serve, Butler!’
He stepped back. ‘Fine.’
They volleyed in silence for a while, the repetitive thwack of the tennis ball against the hard plastic bats giving a steady rhythm. The sun beat down, turning the garden game onerous. After a time, bored with the quiet and hoping to break the tension, Sean asked, ‘Have you seen the hungry pussy today?’
Cherry laughed and missed the ball. Her smile lit up her entire face; he could watch it all day.
‘Sorry, did that put you off your game?’
‘You know it did.’
‘So sorry.’
‘You know you aren’t.’
‘Aye, true. But have you seen the cat?’
Cherry looked around the garden and then back to Sean. ‘No,’ she said, licking sweat off her top lip.
‘Must be sheltering in the shade somewhere. It’s bloody hot.’ He took off his t-shirt and cast it to the side, caught Cherry’s eyes widening as he did so, and a thrill cut through him.
‘You’re okay if I take my top off in my own garden, right?’
‘Yep, all good. Stop trying to put me off my game with your salacious shenanigans. I’ve seen half-naked men before, you know – including you.’
‘Fine. C’mon then.’ Sean pelted the ball. Cherry smashed it back to him with equal force. Again, they lapsed into quiet, the only sounds the thud of the ball against their bats and the sharp, syncopated rhythm of their breathing. Eventually, Sean hit a volley that Cherry missed.
‘Game, set, match, Butler!’ He threw his bat in the air; it spun back down, and he caught it one-handed.
‘Such a gracious winner.’ With a small bow, Cherry tipped her baseball cap at him before sticking her tongue out, throwing her bat on the ground and strutting away in an affected huff, her perfectly round arse wiggling inside her ‘gardening’ shorts, so tight they should be outlawed.
He went after her, stopping her with the simple motion of sweeping his arms around her waist. ‘Where do you think you’re going, Paradise? Stay and worship the champion.’
‘No way.’ Cherry wriggled with admirable effort, her laughter holding her back. Sean lifted her off the ground, spun her around to face the way they’d come.
‘Get back there and kiss my bat, woman.’
‘Never! I will never kiss your bat.’ Her laughter pealed around the garden. It was music to Sean’s ears to hear her happy. ‘Let me down, Butler. I command it.’
‘Command all you like. I’m going to need a promise about my bat?’
