‘Nothing could have ever happened between us,’ I state.
He glances at me, his eyebrows pulling together.
‘If my parents found out that we were in a relationship – a potentially sexual one,’ I add with a blush, ‘they would have had to move you on. Can you imagine social services hearing about it? There was no way I could risk anything happening between us. I was terrified that I’d lose you.’
‘There were so many times that I thought you liked me and then you’d retreat.’ Only now does he comprehend what was really going on. ‘I thought you were blowing hot and cold on me.’
‘No!’ I pull my knees up onto the sofa so I can face him properly. ‘I wanted to kiss you more than I’d ever wanted to kiss anyone.’
I still do…
He mirrors my body position and regards me for a long moment. Then he reaches over and takes my hand. He holds it from beneath with my palm facing upwards, his thumb resting on my inner wrist. He drags his thumb back and forth and everything zeroes in on his touch. He’s staring at my hand, I’m staring at his thumb. Butterflies are going berserk in my stomach, but I’m still terrified that I’m going to lose him.
‘I’m scared,’ I confide shakily.
The movement of his thumb ceases, but his hand is still cradling mine.
He cocks his head to one side. ‘Why?’
‘I know I should be used to saying goodbye – I’ve had enough practice over the years – but with you it’s different. The thought of losing you again terrifies me.’
‘Why would you lose me?’ he asks with a frown.
‘This house, it’s incredible.’
‘I’ll sell it or rent it, but I won’t live here again.’
‘Seriously? Your job at Forestry England?’
‘It’s only a matter of time before something comes up in North Yorkshire. I can wait.’
I pause. ‘What about Sophie?’
‘I’ll get to know her over the phone and via FaceTime and we can visit each other. My relationship with you is more important right now.’
My heart is filling with hope, but there’s one more obstacle, and for me, it’s by far the biggest.
‘Emilie,’ I whisper.
‘Emilie?’ He looks mystified.
‘You don’t want to be a dad.’
‘What on earth made you think that?’ His voice has jumped up an octave.
‘You don’t… You said… You said you don’t want children,’ I stutter.
‘I said I didn’t want children of my own. Leah,’ he says firmly, edging closer. He stares at me intently. ‘I do want to be a dad. I want to have a big family. But I don’t want to bring any more children into the world when there are already so many who need love and care. I’d like to do what your parents did: foster – and adopt. I want to look after kids who don’t have anyone else, and love them unconditionally. That’s what I plan to do with my life. That’s what’s important to me. But Christ, I adore Emilie. Don’t think that I don’t want to be a father figure to her, because I absolutely do.’
Now emotion chokes up his voice and we both move at the same time. He opens up his arms to me and I slide across the sofa, trying to get as close to him as possible.
‘What a pair we are.’ He sniffs against the top of my head.
I laugh, feeling high with the most exhilarating sense of relief.
George pulls me even more firmly against his chest and I soak up the feeling of the steady beat of his heart thudding against mine.
My face is pressed against his warm neck and I breathe him in, feeling heady at the scent of clean cotton and pine-scented shower gel.
Eventually I lift my head to look at him. His eyes stare back at me, so dark and dilated that they look almost black in this light.
I bring my hand to his jaw and trace my fingers across his rough stubble.
His gaze drifts down to my lips, hovering there for a few seconds, before rising again to meet my eyes.
And then his hand cups the back of my neck and our mouths come together at last, my pulse tripping as our lips part. Shivers roll down my body in waves as his tongue entangles with mine. The kiss becomes more passionate, more fervent, more uncontrollable… More, more, more…
He kisses me harder, deeper, and the ache I’m feeling builds and builds until I’m a tightly coiled bundle of nerves.
But do I want to have sex with him in the cottage his ex-girlfriend still lives in? The tiniest hesitation on my part has him breaking away.
‘You okay?’ He searches my eyes.
‘I don’t want to stop. But I’m not sure we should do this here.’
He looks around the room, puzzled, before he understands.
‘Ah,’ he says, with a sigh. ‘That’s okay. I’ve waited half my life for that kiss. I can be patient for whatever comes next.’
Chapter 30 Now
The next morning, George and I are careful not to confuse Emilie with displays of affection. She and I beat him downstairs, but he follows soon afterwards, saying hello to Emilie before greeting me. He has that shy, slightly bashful look about him, which makes me reticent in turn. But when Emilie is seated at the kitchen table, tucking into her choice from a cereal multipack, he gently skims his thumb along my waist, leaving a fizzing heat trailing in its wake.
While she’s distracted, I lean in and brush my lips against his neck.
He breathes in sharply and takes a small step away from me.
‘I thought we might go to a different beach this morning,’ he says. ‘One with sand so we can build some castles.’
‘Yay!’ Emilie cries, kicking her feet against her chair with excitement.
I grin at George and he smiles at me, letting out a quiet sigh filled with longing.
* * *
I’d like us to have more time to ourselves before we tell Mum or anyone else about our budding relationship, so we agree to keep things between us a secret.
The week after we return from Devon, we hardly see each other.
George has to make up for the shifts he didn’t work while we were away and I spend most of my time while Emilie is at nursery at the Cracked Teapot, trying to build a simple website for Mum’s knitting workshops.
After repeated encouragement from me, George accepts Mum’s offer to move in. He’ll leave the pub at the end of the month. Mum is predictably thrilled.
It’s occurred to me that if – or rather, when – George and I finally take our relationship to the next level, it’s probably going to happen under her roof, which is nauseating or thrilling, depending on my frame of mind. I have wondered if we should make the most of our privacy while George still has a room at the pub, but for some reason, the thought of heading upstairs with him there doesn’t sit well with me.
It’s not that I’m not crazy for him – I want him desperately and feel slightly insane at the realisation that I’ll soon get to see him first thing in the morning and last thing at night – but something is holding me back. I’m simply too afraid to face up to it because I know what needs to be done.
It’s another case of unfinished business.
* * *