‘Because it will be her thirtieth birthday.’
‘Oh yes, that’s right.’
‘Wow, you actually knew that?’
Willow looked at Charlie in amazement. Most of the time he couldn’t remember her own birthday, never mind her bestie’s.
‘Yeah’ – he shrugged casually – ‘I’m sure you mentioned it recently.’
‘Ðid I?’ Willow frowned. ‘Anyway, Emma wants me to go to a tattoo parlour with her.’
‘Whatever for?’
‘To get a tattoo, silly.’
She rolled her eyes.
‘Rather her than me,’ said Charlie, pulling a face. ‘As long as she realises that thirty years from now it might not suit her. Are you having one?’
‘Emma wants me to, but I’m not sure. Would you still fancy me with a tattoo?’
‘Only if you have my name on the inside of your wrist.’
Willow flushed with pleasure. The seed’s first root had sprouted. Why else would Charlie suggest she have his name inked on her body if he wasn’t planning on spending the rest of his life with her! Willow thought she might indeed have Charlie’s name on the inside of her wrist. But not yet. Only after he’d put a ring on her finger. To do so beforehand might jinx the chance of a proposal.
Charlie forked up the last of his spaghetti before draining his glass of wine.
‘Have you finished?’ he said.
For a moment Willow was thrown. Finished what? Chatting about her day at Mosley Library, or talking about Emma’s impending tattoo?
‘Your dinner?’ he prompted.
Due to her doing most of the talking, Willow’s meal was virtually untouched. All the heat had gone out of it. She’d have to put it in the microwave.
‘Only I want my dessert,’ said Charlie.
‘It’s only tinned peaches and whippy cream,’ said Willow apologetically.
‘You’re the peach’ – he pulled her to her feet – ‘and I’ll definitely have you with the whippy cream.’
He cupped her face in his hands before lowering his mouth to hers. Willow’s legs nearly gave way from the sudden desire that whooshed through her body. Charlie hadn’t behaved like this since… since… well, she couldn’t remember.
‘Go upstairs,’ he murmured. ‘I’ll bring the cream.’
‘You’re kidding,’ she gasped.
What on earth had got into him?
‘We’re going to have some fun,’ he promised.
And he meant it. It had been very pleasurable licking chocolate body paint off his lover, and she’d done some amazing things with her tongue when it had been spread over his erection. But she wasn’t around to give a repeat performance. And anyway, all that had to stop. His lover had taught him inspiration. Just because that chapter was coming to an end, it didn’t mean creativity had to stop.
Stifling a giggle, Willow scampered up the stairs peeling her clothes off along the way. Whatever was Charlie going to do with the whippy cream? Spray a foamy bikini on her body, then lick it off? This was unchartered territory. Seconds later, Charlie appeared behind her, shedding his office clothes over the landing floor.
‘Two seconds,’ he said hoarsely, before disappearing into the bathroom.
A moment later, the shower had burst into life.
Willow resisted the urge to rub her hands together and cackle with glee. Instead she busied herself switching on the bedroom lamps which immediately turned her white skin to pale gold.
Peeling back the duvet, she flopped down on the mattress, star-fishing out her arms and legs in anticipation. Then she shot upright again. Whippy cream would make a mess. Perhaps she should lay a towel over the flat sheet? But that wouldn’t be so romantic. On the other hand, she’d only just laundered all the bedding. Without a towel, the sheets would have to be washed again.
Her sense of practicality rose to the fore, but as Willow made for the hot cupboard to fetch the towel, Charlie appeared in the doorway. He’d taken the liberty of already creaming up – and it wasn’t with Factor Fifty.
Seconds later, Willow had forgotten all about how to prevent the duvet turning into a trifle.
Seven
The following morning, Willow awoke to the touch of Charlie’s lips against her forehead. He always got up an hour before her because of his commute.
‘See you later,’ he whispered.
‘Bye, darling,’ she replied sleepily.
‘Oh, and you might want to strip the bed before you go to work. It’s a bit sour in here.’
‘Okay.’
Willow’s eyes pinged open. Nothing like a bit of reality interrupting your rose-tinted dreams. Still, they’d had a lot of fun last night. Messing up the bedding had been worth it, although Willow suspected she’d never look at whippy cream in quite the same way again. Emma had once told her that she and Jon had regularly enjoyed spreading chocolate body paint over themselves. Willow couldn’t begin to imagine the mess that would make.
Willow waited until Charlie had let himself out of the house, then swung her legs out of bed. Reaching for her mobile, she sent Emma a quick text.
I completely forgot. Charlie is away this weekend in Birmingham. A boring work convention (his words). If you’re still getting a tattoo on Saturday, I’ll def come with you. Whatever time you like xx
Half an hour later, Willow had showered, and the smelly bedding was whizzing around in the washing machine. Making up the bed with fresh linen, she hummed to herself. She and Charlie were back on track, and she’d never felt so content.
***
Charlie’s train shot out of the last tunnel before London and zoomed towards King’s Cross International. The 4G coverage reconnected and a flurry of texts landed on his mobile with a stuttering ding-ding-dingggg. Everybody scrambled to their feet, waiting impatiently for the train to roll to a standstill. The carriage aisle was now like human lasagne.
Remaining in his seat, Charlie used the extra minute before disembarking to scroll through his messages. The first was from Willow.
Love you xx
The second was from Ben:
Mate, Anna’s been a right bloody bitch this morning and made me late. Cover my back until I’m in. Please can you print out Bryson’s exit planning report for me and put it on Drummond’s desk. If Drummond comes looking for me, tell him you don’t know where I am. Oh, and hang your jacket over the back of my chair so it looks like I’m in, eh? Cheers. I owe you one.
The third was from Kev:
Yay for telling Willow you’re going to a work convention! So happy! I was thinking about having a tattoo, but can skip it. So where shall we go? An Indian summer is forecast for the weekend. How about Brighton? I fancy paddling in the sea, walking along the beach, eating fish and chips under the stars, followed by some al-fresco sex. Can’t wait!!! Xxxxxxxxxxx
Charlie sighed and turned his attention back to the first text. He wasn’t up for returning Willow’s declaration of love. Not yet. He didn’t want his girlfriend misinterpreting things and believing he was weakening about the M word. Equally, he didn’t want her thinking he was a total bastard. His fingers tapped out a reply:
You’re such a babe xx