‘I don’t mean to be rude, but your boyfriend’s a bit of an ass,’ he says, his eyebrows tilting up.
‘My boyfriend? Greg?’ Is he my boyfriend? My head goes into a spin. ‘He’s not my boyfriend.’
‘He’s not?’
‘We sort of hung out before.’ Can I say hung out instead of casual sex? Does it count? ‘We were going to go out, but it’s fallen apart before it’s got off the ground. And now he’s pissed off with me, so it’s over before it’s begun.’ My words come out in a jumble.
Jackson’s eyes stare straight into mine and the charge is so strong it yanks at my insides. He leans fractionally towards me, and I do the same.
‘So, no boyfriend then?’
‘Yes. No. I mean no.’ His dark eyelashes are long and frame his sparkling hazel eyes and his wide smile is pulling me forwards again. He tilts his head and I’m sure he’s going to kiss me. I hear myself inhale and my hands twitch and whatever I’ve done, water sprays out at speed, soaking us. ‘Arg. Sorry.’ His hands cover mine to tighten the fabric around the pipe again and it sends my already pounding pulse into overdrive.
‘I’m going to try this one more time or we’ll be stuck in this cupboard forever.’ His wide mouth gives way to a disarming smile and, for a split second, I think that might not be a bad idea. ‘Have you got the pipe?’
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. His hands leave mine and he swings on the stopcock with everything he has. It gives way and he whizzes it around fast.
‘I think it’s safe to let go now.’ He nods towards the pipe.
Tentatively, I let go and squeak as there’s one more spurt of water, which then drips away to nothing. We crawl out from under the sink and stand about a metre apart, our top halves dripping wet.
‘Oh no. The banana bread.’ There’s a distinct smell of burning filling the room. I dash across and pull open the oven. A black plume of acrid smoke pours out and I try in vain to avoid it as I reach in to take out the now burnt and inedible breads. There goes tomorrow’s offering for the café. I turn back to Jackson to see him peeling off his sopping T-shirt. He looks like something out of one of those old Diet Coke ads. His skin is smooth and bronzed, his waist narrow and every one of his abs defined. The ink travelling up his left arm and grazing his collarbone is as sexy as hell. He is one beautiful man.
‘I’d better go do the same,’ I say, waving at my now see-through white T-shirt showing the outline of a lacy black bra.
‘Don’t fancy stripping off here and now, then?’ he teases, his eyes flashing to my bra and then working their way back up to my face.
I shoot him a sarcastic smile. ‘Not happening, mate.’
I go into my flat to make myself look presentable. When I come back out, Jackson is sitting on a stool at the counter with two mugs of coffee steaming away in front of him.
‘Do you still take it strong with one sugar?’ he says, pushing a mug towards me.
‘I do.’ How does he still remember that?
I sit down opposite him and wrap one hand around my mug. My shoulders slump and I put an elbow on the counter and lean my chin in my hand.
‘Are you OK?’ He reaches across and his fingertip traces the hand holding my mug.
His touch throws me. I don’t want to feel his empathy because that hurts too much. I shake my head. ‘I’ll be fine. Everything always happens at once though, doesn’t it? Jill’s got another job. I’ve no fruit bread for tomorrow and now I’m going to have to get the water leak fixed and won’t have any water until I do.’ I draw my hands back well out of his reach. ‘It never rains, but it pours.’
‘I could probably help with the pipe if you have any tools.’
‘You don’t have to do that. I can sort it.’ I twirl my coffee mug around, trying to find the next thing to say that keeps him here a little longer. ‘How’s your mum doing?’
His face lights up. ‘Really well. She was having a nap when I nipped out. She’s going to ring me when she wakes up.’ He pauses and shifts in his seat awkwardly. ‘I wanted to come and find you because of the other day.’
I frown, confused.
‘I didn’t want you to think …’ He shrugs. ‘I don’t really know what I didn’t want you to think, but I know it felt awkward, and I didn’t want that.’
‘I don’t think anything. You’re fine.’ I meet his gaze and a shiver ripples through me. I slap my hand, palm down, on the table. ‘I might go and look back under the sink. To check it’s not leaking again.’
We walk back into the kitchen, or I should say splash, as water is still puddled across the floor. I open the cupboard. It’s still. No sign of leaking water. ‘All good.’
I turn around and my foot slips from under me and before I hit the deck, Jackson catches me. His hands grip my arms, steadying me, and we freeze. His chest rises against mine, his hands not letting me go, and we stare at each other like deer caught in blinding headlights. My heartbeat is so loud I’m surprised he can’t hear it. For the first time I notice dark shadows under his eyes and it crosses my mind that he’s more exhausted than he’s letting on. His fingers trace my cheekbone and skate down to the corner of my mouth and every other thought flees my head apart from the feel of his touch.
He steps forwards and presses me up against the wall, our bodies flush against each other, his hips pinning mine in place. I lift my hand to touch him, but he catches it, holding it above my head, and buries his face in the hollow at the base of my neck.
