Rosa grinned. “I like this new you.”
“Thought you might.” Billy smiled as she turned away to go set up the ironing board.
“I like it a lot,” Rosa said to herself. She grabbed her underwear from the floor and headed back to Billy’s bedroom. Now alone, less distracted by Billy’s hands and body, she took it all in. Her impression: Billy had grown-up. There was a proper bed with a headboard and decent bedding. She’d noticed the softness against her skin numerous times when she’d been trying to hold off yet another climax.
She shook her head. How many times had she come? And it was mutual—she hadn’t become a pillow princess in those yearsapart. They were good at this, weren’t they—the sex part? But what if that was all it was?
Her instincts took over and she remade the bed. She noticed the picture frame on the bedside table—the three of them, when Imogen had just been born. Billy looked so young; they both did. But as Rosa looked more closely, she could see it—the heaviness within Billy.
Hindsight was a bitch, wasn’t it?
When she turned back, Billy was standing in the doorway, holding out her dress and watching her.
“Feels like a long time ago, doesn’t it?” Billy said, acknowledging the photograph.
Rosa took the dress from her. “Thank you. And yes, it does.”
She stepped into it, lifting the material and threading her arms through. The touch of Billy’s fingers on her skin drew a soft, involuntary sigh from her as she was gently turned and the zip pulled up.
“I prefer taking you out of it,” Billy whispered against her ear, lips grazing the delicate skin before trailing kisses down her neck.
“Billy, haven’t you had enough?” Rosa asked, though her head tilted to give Billy more space.
“Never,” Billy murmured against her neck, grinning.
“What if we’re just really good at sex and it’s everything else we fall apart with?” Rosa said, straightening up and turning. Her gaze held Billy’s. “What if our bodies are just reacting to something we’re connected on, but when it comes to the serious stuff—”
“Tell me what you need for me to do to show you it’s more than that, and I will,” Billy said. “I’m here to meet your needs because I want to, even if they’re notmyneeds—because meeting each other’s needs is vital.”
“I think that’s the problem…I don’t knowwhatmy needs are, or what it is that I need you to do to prove anything.”
“That’s okay, we’ll work it out as we go along.” Billy smiled. “Now, as much as I don’t want to let you leave, it’s 8.30 and you need at least fifteen minutes to get home—and some buffer time in case Immy’s home earlier than planned.”
“Yes, I should get going.” Rosa leant forward, pushing up on her toes. The kiss was intimate, soft, almost a whisper against lips. “Thank you.”
“For?”
Rosa grinned. “The new memories.”
Chapter forty-six
Rosa made it through the door, dropped her bag in its usual spot, kicked off her shoes, and managed to get onto the couch and flick the TV on just as Imogen’s key turned in the lock.
“Mum, I’m home,” the teenager shouted. Rosa listened as the rucksack of books clunked to the floor.
“In the lounge,” she called out.
A moment later, Imogen’s head poked around the door. “Cup of tea?”
“I’d love one, thank you.” Rosa smiled up at her. “How were your lessons?”
“Oh, you know, the same. I’m really getting the hang of the strings and guitar.”
“That’s good. How about the keys and piano?” Rosa asked, letting herself relax a little.
“Honestly, I’m not sure. I enjoy it, but I don’t think I have the fingers for it,” Imogen said, raising her voice from the kitchen.
“Well, you don’t have to continue if you don’t want to,” Rosa called back, but then laughed as Imogen walked into the loungewith two mugs in her hands. She handed Rosa the ‘Best Mum in the World’ mug she’d bought her for last Mother’s Day. Rosa was pretty sure Billy had a similar one.
