Away With the Fairies (The Swallow Barn Cottage Series, Book 2)

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And 2 out of 2 because I'm weak and can't say 'no' to my readers ;)

Love you,

K. xx

*** 

They had dinner, each of them took a shower, and Fiona, who went the second, walked into the bedroom. Suddenly it felt almost awkward. The night before they'd started in the bath, and then moved to bed, kissing and groping on the stairs, and laughing because she kept pretending to run away from him, and then she'd turn around, bounce back the stairs, and kiss him, and run up again.

He was sitting in the bed, in that same soft tee he'd slept in the first couple nights, his lower half covered with the duvet, his arms crossed on his chest. Fiona gingerly sat on the edge. Her legs were cold - but she didn't get under the duvet. She was both embarrassed of her nightie under her robe - it was white, and boring, and the previous two nights she'd fallen asleep starkers - and shy about simply lying down with him. As if they were married. She threw him a discreet look over.

Remember how quickly you learnt to make yourself scarce when Nate was in this sort of dark quiet mood? You'd hide and be invisible until he decided to dust you off and pay you a measly dose of attention. Maybe all men were like that. Maybe one was supposed to tiptoe and guess his moods and... behave. Isn't it what he asked you about your marriage with Nate?

"I wrote today," he said gravely. "It's been fifteen years."

Fiona's eyes flew to his face. His gaze was distant.

"My family were right. I just needed a push," he added.

"A push? Do you mean the laptop?" she asked.

He gave her a look, the meaning of which she didn't understand.

"No, not the laptop."

Fiona shifted closer to him on the bed.

"What did you write?" she asked with curiosity.

"What I've seen. In Iraq. Write what you know, they say," he said sardonically. "But obviously, fiction."

"Oh," she exhaled and gave it a thought. "It could help your nightmares too," she said.

He gave her another of his side glances.

"I don't have them. It was just a night in a sleeping bag, and then–" He chuckled quietly. "And then your perfume on the sheets."

"What about my perfume?" she asked.

"You slept on these sheets, and then I... tried," he said, his eyes twinkling.

"Oh, I'd apologise, but I think that was a compliment," she said in an uncertain tone, and he chuckled.

"It was."

"Well, maybe it wasn't specifically my perfume," she drew out. You don't know how to flirt, Fiona. Should you even try? On the other hand, it's Will! Maybe it's not that scary. Maybe it could be– fun. "You said it yourself. Well, you growled it, to be precise. That you hadn't had sex for two years. It's just pent-up energy, you see, and–"

She didn't finish because he lunged and scooped her and dragged her under the duvet. She burst into excited giggles.

"No, but it's true!" she squealed, while he was bunching up her nightie and kissing everything he could reach. "It's not like you– wanted me specifically– Oh!"

"Don't be daft, Fiona," he murmured and licked her hip bone. She bit her bottom lip to suppress a moan. "You were all flushed and panting after the coffee, and then I had to sleep in the same bed. No cold shower can solve this aggro."