‘I’d be very grateful if you did,’ I say with a grin, loving the turn this night has taken.
‘Then consider it sorted,’ he says.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
I barely sleep over the next couple of nights, and thanks to our current heatwave, we’re even more run off our feet than usual. I’m shattered, but I think part of it is emotional exhaustion. My mind keeps circling back to Finn telling Tyler to say hi. It was such a throwaway comment, but surely Finn knew that it would set my head spinning.
When Tom opens the door to me late Saturday afternoon, there’s something new in his eyes, and for some reason, I find it hard to look at him directly. As we walk down to Seaglass for the evening shift, I notice that my tiredness has been replaced by a strange anticipation.
He doesn’t put a foot wrong in the kitchen, according to Bill. When Bill and the sous-chef head home, Tom sticks around for a drink at the bar, and after the clean-down, we have a lock-in. There’s been so much camaraderie between the staff tonight and it’s a pleasure to sit down with everyone, but by twelve thirty, they’ve all gone home and only Tom and I remain.
We’ve been making our way through a bottle of rosé and cracking each other up with silly anecdotes. From the way we keep losing it laughing, I think we’re both pretty tipsy. Alcohol has conquered my earlier shyness, and he seems completely chilled, half twisted towards me, his foot proppedon the footrest of my stool. Occasionally his knee knocks against mine, and every time this happens, my skin seems to vibrate, but neither of us has moved away to gain more room. He’s wearing jeans and I’m in a flirty-hemmed, thigh-length summer dress, so I’m sure I’m feeling the effect of our contact much more than he is.
I’ve been telling him about how I set my skirt alight with a Bunsen burner once when I was at uni and I realise that his attention keeps drifting to my lips. Now that I’ve noticed, I’m intensely aware of it. The next time his knee grazes mine, it stays there.
I feel heat radiating from the spot, soaking into my bloodstream and warming me through from head to toe. Our conversation dries up and we sit there for a long moment, simply staring at each other.
‘I guess we should go home,’ I murmur when I become a bit more conscious of the silence.
He removes his long leg from between mine and languidly gets to his feet as I slide off my stool.
‘I’ll just check everything’s in order upstairs.’
He follows me up, seemingly without thinking. That’s what he’s like, I’ve found: if something needs doing, he wants to help.
‘Can you switch off the lights?’ I call over my shoulder as I head into the kitchen. Satisfied with what I see, I come out again to find that the ceiling lights are off, but the festoon lights are aglow.
‘Sorry, I couldn’t find the switch,’ he says apologetically, looking around.
‘Behind you.’ I nod at the navy wall by the sofas, but I’m already crossing the room towards him.
I lean past him to flick off the switch they’re wired to, and when I straighten up again, I realise just how closely we’re standing. For a moment, I can’t even breathe.
My eyes travel up to his. They’re glinting in the light from the full moon outside the panoramic windows. The darkness around us feels intimate.
Neither of us moves a muscle as he gazes down at me. I know that he hasn’t long been out of a serious relationship and I’m clearly not over Finn, but from the way we’re staring at each other, nothing else matters right now.
As though in slow motion, he reaches out, his hand skating lightly along the curve of my waist. The heat from his fingers sears straight through the thin cotton of my dress to scorch the skin beneath.
My breath hitches and I inch a little closer, touching my hands to the waistband of his jeans.
He inhales sharply. I tilt my face up to his, and a moment later he lowers his mouth onto mine.
My whole body is rocked with a jolt of electricity as our lips connect, and then goosebumps are shivering into place all over me as we begin to kiss, slowly at first, and then with more pressure. Both hands come up to hold my waist and I take this as an invitation that it’s okay for me to touch him in turn, so I do what I’ve been fantasising about for the last week and slip my hands under the hem of his T-shirt.
I’m heady at the feel of his perfectly flat stomach, the softhair that travels up from the top button of his jeans, the ridges and contours of his chest.
I can barely catch my breath as I explore his smooth, firm skin and hard muscles. I want to explore every inch of him, and as he pulls me flush against his hips, I figure he might just let me.
His breathing has become ragged, his kisses more demanding as his tongue caresses and probes, but the deeper contact is making my legs feel shaky. I edge us towards the sofa, light-headed and dizzy. I think I could live on his kisses alone. He’s phenomenal.
He falls down to the cushions, bringing me with him.
‘Fucking hell, Liv,’ he mutters into my mouth, his voice thick and heavy with desire as he jerks me roughly against him. I’m losing my mind. ‘Shall we take this back to the cottage?’
‘No. I don’t want to wait,’ I reply.
I’m done with waiting.
