Distraction

Chapter Ten

'You try finishing up with two small children helping.' 

She gave an exaggerated sigh, making him laugh, before she headed out to the yard. The girls had missed her; he'd missed her. Low Wood Farm was where she belonged. As she paused to pull on her boots, she heard Robbie muttering to himself. 

'Bloody PC Andy...' 

Sweet of you to care, Mr Golding.  

She didn't know why he cared, but knowing he did gave her a bigger smile than dozens of peonies had.  

That evening, Libby stepped into the cottage down from the post office, twitching with nervous energy. This was it - the fifth date. By her rules, she'd played hard to get, Andy had endeared himself to her with home-cooked meals, a hand-holding, Sunday evening walk up to Black Fell Tarn and crikey he could kiss. Just thinking about how he would pull her to him and gently bite her bottom lip had her eager for more. A lot more.  

'Hello, beautiful.' Andy lay stretched out on the sofa, reading a book.  

Since he didn't make a move to get up, she lay next to him and relaxed into the slow kiss as his hand stroked her back. 

'Have you had a good day off?' she asked, resting her head on his shoulder. 

'Yeah, met up with Holly for lunch.' 

Oh. She took his novel, refusing to succumb to jealousy. Possession by A.S. Byatt. 'I read this at sixth form.'  

One sunny, Sunday afternoon, she and James Rothwell-Burton had sat on the banks of the Thames. He'd brought wine and she'd brought her ballerina body since that's all he'd been interested in. Six months they lasted. He was fun. While she'd read, his hand had explored under her top.  

'Did you see the paper?' Andy's hand wandered down, drifting to the hem of her dress. 

She nodded. 'You made me famous.' 

'Like it?'  

'No.'  

His eyes glinted. 'Liar.' 

Bugger. 'It was a little fun, but I don't like being famous.' 

'Still worried what people might think?'  

'Not even slightly.' She hoped she'd escape the lie by moving to sit astride him, the same move she'd made on that river bank. She hadn't cared what people thought back then.  

'I'm off early next week. Want to go away for a couple of days?' 

'Paris or Rome?' 

'Cities are too hot this time of year.' His eyes widened as she slid up his t-shirt, kissing his perfect abs. 'How about the Dales?'  

'In a B and B that we never leave?' she asked, popping open the buttons on his jeans.  

'Libby, what are you doing?' A tentative smile crept across his face.  

'Fifth date rule.' She shot him a wink.  

He'd showered so much attention on her over the last few days; it was time to return the favour. For twenty minutes, she tortured him with tiny kisses, her hands stroking, her tongue toying, keeping him on the brink for as long as she could.  

'Jesus Christ...' His eyes were still closed, his fingers gripping the sofa. 'For fuck's sake, Holly.' 

Libby sat up, wiping her mouth. 'What?' 

* 

Michael Wray picked up his phone. 'I like her. Get me more.'