Catherine smiled, savouring the sight of Jules in her space, perhaps for a second too long, before jolting back to the task at hand.
“Oh, the wine is in here.” She opened the wine drawer and stepped away to give Jules space to look at the dozen bottles stacked in the rack.
“Ooh fancy! They all look dead posh; are you sure?”
“Honestly, just pick one.”
“Okay, er… this one then.” She pulled out a bottle and presented it to Catherine, who couldn’t contain her laughter when she looked at the label —Châteauneuf-du-Pape.
Jules grimaced. “Oh no, have I picked something ridiculous? You really should choose. I probably wouldn’t even notice if you gave me the cheap stuff after all thoseyears spent drinking the vinegar we pass off as wine on flights.”
Catherine looked from the wine bottle to the woman standing in front of her, all flustered and unsure of herself. Perhaps it was the wine she’d already drunk, or maybe Francesca’s visit had stoked her confidence, but with a slow smile, she said, “No, this one’s perfect.”
Whilst Jules plated up dessert— a lemon tartlet with a heaped spoonful of mascarpone — Catherine uncorked the wine and poured them each a glass. They probably wouldn’t finish the bottle; more to the point, they probablyshouldn’tfinish the bottle, but she didn’t regret opening it. She’d have been silly to walk away from Jules before really getting to know her, plus the woman had owned up to and apologised for the online stalking, which took some guts because Catherine wasn’t about to admit to reading her postcards and eyeing up her underwear.
They settled on the sofa, sinking back into the plush cushions once the dessert plates were clean. The slow bloom of alcohol softened the edges, loosening muscles and tongues. Jules was a wonderful mix of curious and captivating. She listened with genuine interest as Catherine talked about Truscote & Dalton and the changes that lay ahead with Jeremy’s imminent departure. Catherine tried to sound positive about it all, but in truth, she felt a little rudderless. Swallowing down the onset of rising panic, she quizzed Jules about the places she wantedto visit, hanging on every word as Jules reeled off a shortlist of weird and wonderful-sounding cities. She found herself leaning in when Jules enthused about Barcelona — the place she’d called home for over a decade. Her elaborate descriptions of the vibrant culture increased Catherine’s desire to visit the city someday soon.
Jules’s eyes danced when she talked, and Catherine loved the way her accent wrapped itself softly around some words and fortified others. She could listen to her all day, and she couldn’t stop staring at her mouth, which seemed to twitch into a little smile every time Catherine’s eyes dropped to it again.
“Where wouldyoumost like to visit?” she asked.
“Now that you mention it, I’ve been thinking about Barcelona a lot lately.”
“Oh, yeah?” The lines around Jules’s eyes crinkled in a way Catherine found incredibly endearing.
“Yeah, not just because of you and those lovely chocolates… okay, maybe a little because of the chocolates…” Catherine grinned. “It just sounds so… different from here. I think I’ve been in a bit of a rut, and now, with all the changes at work, maybe it’s time to spice up my life — take a trip, get a little perspective.”
“At least you recognise it and want to change it. It took me years to see that I was in a rut and needed to mix things up.” Jules reached out and gently squeezed Catherine’s hand. The simple gesture sent a pleasant shiver up Catherine's arm.
“But here you are.” Catherine squeezed back. The warmth radiating from Jules was intoxicating.
“Here I am.” Now Jules was looking at Catherine’s mouth, and biting her own bottom lip, and it wasso damn… Juniper chose that precise moment to jump up into the space between them. They laughed as he stretched up and softly headbutted Jules. He kneaded his claws into one of the scatter cushions before curling up on it.
“I think that’s Juni’s unsubtle way of telling us it’s time for bed.” Jules’s voice was husky, her gaze still locked on Catherine’s. The air crackled with the electricity between them.
At the mention of bed, Catherine stifled a yawn, her restless nights finally catching up with her.
Jules brushed a warm hand over Catherine’s knee. The sensation sent a wave of heat rippling through her. Suddenly, she was wide awake again, senses alive to the woman in front of her. She could only hope her face was behaving itself, because her body certainly wasn’t.
Before she had time to stop it, her reckless mouth was asking a question her brain hadn’t yet processed. “Do you have plans tomorrow?”
Jules glanced up as if checking a mental calendar. “Er… no, actually. No plans.”
“Okay, I’d like to take you somewhere that wasn’t on your list.”
A stunning smile widened across Jules’s face. “I would love that.”
“Great. Good, yeah. Okay… next question. Have you ever been wild swimming?”
27
WILD KISS
Catherine woke from the best sleep she’d had in a long time. No weird dreams about Francesca, no spiralling thoughts about Jules, just a deep, delicious slumber that had wrapped around her like a weighted blanket. Warmth spread through her chest as she stretched amongst her pillows and thought about how the evening with Jules had panned out.
When it came to saying goodnight at the top of the stairs, Jules softly gripped her shoulders and grazed a chaste kiss on Catherine’s cheek, and somehow it had been exactly enough, whilst leaving her wanting so much more.
And they’d made plans… for today. Wild swimming. As her joy crested, a wave of self-doubt crashed in. Jules was impossibly attractive, and although Catherine looked after herself, she was at least eight years Jules’s senior. The other woman would probably be repelled at the sight of Catherine’s fifty-six-year-old body in a bathing suit.
