Page 69 of The Sugar and Spice Bookshop Bakery

‘It’s a bit cramped, that’s all,’ she says. ‘And the glass is cold on my back.’

‘You should have said.’ He takes half a step back, gently drawing her away from the glass. And then he takes a bar of soap – fancy, scented soap that must be Maddie’s because it isn’t hers – from the basket that hangs from the shower rail and rubs it between his hands, creating a mass of soapy bubbles.

‘Shall I wash you?’ he says.

‘Would you like to?’ Her voice comes out in a kind of squeak.

‘Yes, I would, Luisa. Very much.’

He turns her around, rubbing her shoulders gently with the lather, working his way down her spine, his hands gliding over her skin, lubricated by the soap. There’s a pause – perhaps whilst he’s getting more soap – and then he begins again, caressing her tenderly. Louise feels almost light-headed and reaches forwards with one hand, places it on the glass to steady herself. And then Jack takes his hands away. She closes her eyes. Tips her head back, longing for his hands on her again.

And then one finger lightly touches her neck. Feather-like. Almost imperceptible. She gasps.

The finger is gone again. Louise isn’t sure now whether she felt it or imagined it.

And then it’s back again, a little lower this time. Just the tiniest of strokes.

And again. Still lower. Louise gasps in anticipation.

And then he turns the shower off. The water stops.

He puts his hands on her shoulders and turns her round. Louise can’t bring herself to look at him, embarrassed that she’s so aroused.

‘Don’t worry,’ he says softly. ‘To be continued. Dot, dot, dot.’ He opens the door of the cubicle and steps out, taking one of the towels. ‘Let’s get you dry.’

She follows him out, water dripping off her and pooling on the floor. He begins to pat her dry, gently moving the towel over her skin, her face first, and then her neck, her shoulders, her breasts and her stomach. And then he crouches in front of her, and picks up one of her feet. He dries between her toes, then places her foot back on the floor and takes the other one. Then he works his way up her legs, patting her calves dry and the soft bit behind her knees. His gentleness makes her light-headed, her heart fluttering away in her chest.

Jack stands up and wraps the towel around her, and the other towel around himself.

‘Come on,’ he says, pulling her out of the bathroom.

She follows him into the bedroom, aware that he hasn’t dried himself properly and is dripping all over the carpet. Not that it matters. Not that anything matters at this moment in time.

For the first time in years, Louise cares only for what’s here, what’s now. Everything else falls away. No noise, no distractions, just the moment, and her surrender to it.

Twenty-Four

Nobody’s perfect, and it turns out that Jack – sexy, romantic soul though he obviously is – is one of those men who falls asleep as soon as they’ve had an orgasm. Thankfully he was a gentleman and did make sure that she had one first.

Louise, on the other hand, does not fall asleep.

First, she lies awake looking at him, wondering how she’s ended up in bed with this gorgeous, gorgeous man and wondering if other people have been having sex like that all along, because it was like nothing she’s ever experienced before – certainly nothing like having sex with Graham, though of course, she shouldn’t compare. Perhaps it’s Jack’s Italian blood.

And then she lies awake worrying about Maddie, who went out shopping hours ago and still hasn’t come home. Finally, Maddie does arrive home. Louise listens to her moving around the flat, hears the click of the bathroom light going on. And then there’s a thud, and Maddie whispers, ‘Shit!’ Louise remembers that they left the bathroom floor all wet and realises that her stepdaughter must have slipped over. There’s the whirr of Maddie’s electric toothbrush and Louise wonders if she shouldn’t get up and brush her teeth so as to have fresh breath in the morning when she wakes up next to Jack.

Lovely Jack.

And then, as the bathroom light clicks off again, and Maddie’s bedroom door opens then closes, Louise remembers the broken plant pots and the knocked over A board, and her thoughts begin to spiral.

Who knocked them over? Was it deliberate? And if so, why? She doesn’t know of anyone who’d want to thwart her plans for the bookshop bakery. There’s Miss Anderson – she’s never liked Louise, but would she really stoop so low? Or one of her cronies? No. Snide comments are more the GMG’s style, the same as when they were in the classroom.

Or could it be a disgruntled reader? Someone who is angry with her after finishing that book? They’ve been vicious towards Sheila online. Might they go after her editor too? Could they have found out where Louise lives?

Or perhaps Jack is right. She’s read too many books and her imagination is working overtime. Perhaps it was just an accident. You don’t get accidents in books – everything happens for a reason, everything has a consequence – but in real life, accidents happen. People knock over A boards and trip over flowerpots. It’s possible, isn’t it?

At some point, she must have drifted off. She opens her eyes, to find light seeping through the curtains and Jack, propped up on one elbow gazing down at her.

‘Good morning, gorgeous,’ he murmurs, leaning in to kiss her.