Nick’s home was surprisingly modern. I hadn’t realised from the outside, but it was actually a barn conversion – albeit a small barn. ‘More of ashedconversion, really,’ he joked. The architect had done a great job, marrying the old oak beams and exposed brickwork with bleached wooden flooring, gleaming chrome, and huge walls of glass that in daylight probably afforded spectacular views of the open countryside. It was totally different from Amelia’s fisherman’s cottage and a whole world away from my New York apartment… but I loved his home from the moment he opened the front door.
Nick kicked off his boots while I loitered on the doormat, worried about leaving a muddy trail on the immaculate floor. Suddenly there was a joyous yelp followed by a frantic skittering as roughly seventy-five pounds of highly excitable Old English Sheepdog came hurtling across the room towards us. Mabel initially had eyes for no one but Nick, greeting him as though she’d not seen him for at least a month.
‘How long have you been gone?’ I laughed. The dog was literally whimpering with joy as he fussed her.
‘Only a couple of hours, but she has no concept of time,’ Nick replied, scratching the dog between her ears and staring deep into her dark-brown eyes. I shook my head because there was something extremely wrong in feeling envious of a dog. Mabel was generous with her affections and then spent several minutes greeting me, although I suspect the smell of my jeans and what I’d landed in was of more interest to her than I was.
I pulled off my boots and stood them beside Nick’s on the mat, telling myself to stop being ridiculous for thinking how good they looked side by side like that.
‘The shower room is at the top of the stairs. You’ll find clean towels in the hall cupboard and help yourself to any of the toiletries.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, heading towards the modern open-tread staircase, which looked like it belonged in an art gallery.
‘I’ll dig out something for you to change into and leave it outside the door. But it’s all going to swamp you, I’m afraid.’
‘Anything will do,’ I assured him.
I was halfway up the stairs when he stopped me again. ‘Are you hot and spicy, or more of an anchovy person?’
My nose automatically wrinkled at the mention of the small salty fish fillets.
‘Thank goodness,’ Nick declared, ‘or I was going to have to break up with you on the spot. Hot and spicy pizza it is then.’
My stomach was already growling in anticipation as I located the shower room and began peeling off my dirty clothes. I was undressed and about to step into the shower when I heard Nick’s footsteps echoing along the upstairs corridor. I froze as they came to a stop outside the bathroom door. Ridiculously, I covered my breasts with my arms, as though he reallywasa superhero with X-ray vision.
‘Are you alright in there? Did you find everything you need?’
I could feel myself blushing. Standing naked so close to him, albeit with an inch-thick door between us, felt disturbingly erotic.
‘Yes. All good in here,’ I replied breezily. Beneath my left breast, I could feel my heart thumping like crazy.
I waited until I heard his footsteps retreat before crossing to the walk-in closet, which was filling the bathroom with clouds of steam. I stepped beneath the hot jets, wondering if it might have been better to opt for an ice-cold shower instead.
As promised, there was a small pile of clothes outside the bathroom door, and a carrier bag for my dirty ones. I unfolded a pair of pale-grey joggers and a matching hoodie. I smiled as I stepped into the joggers, already knowing I was going to look like a circus clown. They were miles too long – I could pull them up almost to my armpits – and even tightened to the max, they kept slipping down from my waist.
I took one last look in the mirror before leaving the bathroom. The make-up I’d applied so carefully earlier was gone, and my damp hair fell to my shoulders in a beachy, dishevelled kind of way. I didn’t think Nick’s invitation to ‘help myself’ had extended to his comb.
He must have heard me coming down the stairs, for he called out to me from the kitchen. ‘Did you find the clothes I left for you? Do they fit?’
I paused on the bottom tread, still hidden from view. ‘Well, you know that scene at the very end of the Tom Hanks’ filmBig…’I began, rounding the corner to enter the kitchen.
He was leaning back against the worktop, smiling even before he saw me.
‘It was the smallest thing I could find,’ he apologised.
‘Honestly, it’s fine,’ I repeated, hoicking up the joggers once again.
His eyes dropped to my hips, knocking my pulse rate up a notch. ‘Do you think they’ll stay up?’
‘Who knows?’ I said with a shrug. ‘It certainly adds an element of excitement to the evening though, doesn’t it?’
I liked the easy banter we seemed to fall into so naturally. We found the same things funny. We made each other laugh. It was, I realised, something I’d never really had with Jeff. It was strange how the distance had allowed me to see just how many things had been missing from my relationship with him, and how very inconvenient it was to findallof them in someone I was never going to be involved with.
‘The pizza will be here in about ten minutes,’ Nick said, crossing over to a huge American-style fridge. ‘Would you like a drink while we wait? I’ve got wine, beer, or—’
‘Beer, please.’
I know I didn’t imagine the look of approval in his eyes at my choice. He pulled the caps from two bottles and brought them over. He was reaching for glasses from a cabinet, but I shook my head and took one of the bottles from his hand and lifted it to my lips. I could feel his eyes on me as I swallowed down the ice-cold brew. It’s a miracle I didn’t choke.
