Leaving to work the next morning was exceptionally difficult; her head pounding; her body aching after the restless sleep she'd gotten even after all the sex they'd had. Alexander hadn't gone for his usual morning jog, stayed with her, and stroked her hair through a small cry she'd had after waking up. They'd agreed that he'd come to the Old School after closing the shop. He'd also made her promise that she'd immediately call him if anything happened.
She was twitchy and distracted all day; but it ended up being a normal Monday, both at the school, and when it came to phone calls, emails, or texts.
Back home, she changed and put a cottage pie in the oven, cleaned up the house a tad, and was folding the laundry that she'd brought from outside, when she heard Alexander entering his code into the lock.
She rushed to the hall - and came to a sharp stop in front of him. He'd put his overnight bag on the floor and was taking off his jacket.
"Smells nice," he said, lifting his face and sniffing. He then looked at her, and his hands froze on the zipper. "What's up?"
"Um–" She couldn't possibly tell him that she'd just run out to greet him like a good little wife freshly after a honeymoon - and how piercingly happy she felt seeing him in the hall of her cottage. "Nothing. I was–" She vaguely waved behind her. "Putting away some stuff."
He tilted his head in a gesture that she'd previous coined in her mind 'a curious large bird' move.
"Hi."
"Hi," Jackie answered.
"Hi," he repeated, and his jacket dropped on the floor.
"Hi? What–"
"Hi."
He toed off his boots and stalked towards her.
"Alexander?"
"You look like you're glad to see me," he murmured, picked her up, and hoisted her up. "Hi."
"I am." She wrapped around him tightly and laughed.
He was marching to the stairs.
"Hi." His teeth grazed at the muscle between her neck and shoulder.
"Hi..."
He kicked the bedroom door open. She moaned when his body slammed onto hers, pinning her down.
"Alexander..."
"I love it. Say, 'Welcome home' next time."
***
They were still cuddling in bed when she heard the timer.
"Oh bugger!" She extricated herself out of his embrace, rolled off the bed, and grabbed her robe. "That's our tea!"
She heard him chuckling warmly behind her. She glanced, and her cheeks flushed from the view of him lounging in her bed, starkers, one long arm thrown above his head, eyes half-lidded, a lovebite on his collarbone. At least, his lower half was covered, but the picture was simply obscene! She was getting a distinct 'beefcake calendar' vibe from it.
She jumped on the bed, smooched him, and squealed, scampering to escape his grabby hands.
"Our food is burning!" she hollered and dashed out of the bedroom.
While she was faffing around, starting the kettle and finishing up the dressing for their salad, she heard him come down; then the bathroom door banged; and a few minutes later he showed up in the kitchen.
"You aren't particularly fond of shirts, are you?" she asked teasingly, facing him, and took a bite of a cucumber slice.
He moved into her, pressing her back to the table. His fingers wrapped around her wrist, and he led her hand to his lips. He crunched with gusto, Jackie ogled him.
"I'm not fond of any clothes." The quick peck he gave her tasted fresh. "But you get flustered if I have no pants on."
"I do not!" she cried out in pretend indignation.
"You do. You can't keep your eyes above my waist. And it turns me on." He licked her neck, and Jackie's knees buckled. "And I'm hungry now," he added. "So I'll wait."
He stepped back and peeked at the baking dish. The low rumble in his throat reminded her of some large cat. Jackie snorted, entertained by her own primary school level crush on the man.
He wasn't wrong about her uncontrollable leering at him, though. While he was washing his hands in the sink, her gaze kept jumping to his backside in a pair of soft bottoms. Somehow athletic wear on him just did it for her, more than the suit that he'd worn in the restaurant, or his everyday outfits of austere but high-quality jeans and jumpers. She wondered in amusement if she had some sort of an unfulfilled fetish from her uni days when she was surrounded by and lusted after athletes.
"If you keep looking at me like this, I'll bend you over the table," he murmured, without turning; and Jackie dropped the salad tongs into the bowl.
"How do you always know?" she muttered embarrassed.
He chortled and opened the cabinet to get plates.
While they ate, he told her of the renovations going on at the farm that used to belong to his brother Martin. Alexander had bought it out when he'd returned to Fleckney.
"I want to open an animal rescue sanctuary there," he said, sending a forkful of pie into his mouth.
"Oh wow, that's amazing!" Jackie exclaimed. "You've got the right resources and infrastructure, and it won't be hard to find qualified staff, considering all the farms in the three counties."
He nodded. "Yeah, and there's this bloke who wants to have a joint project: a sanctuary and an education centre for children with ASD and–" He searched for a word.
"Special learning needs?" she offered.
"Yeah, like ADHD, and so on. You know how they do tours for them? He wants to have the whole place tailored for that. Accessible spaces, classes, sensory rooms, all sorts of facilities. It's still at an early preliminary stage. We'll need to make a proposal and run it by both farming and education agencies." He frowned. "It's a lot."
"Well, the increase in community support for children with autism is part of the NHS Long Term Plan, and it connects it to the education authorities through the APPGA's Autism Act. I'd look into it that. Also, the local IAS services can get you started. You will need a board of trustees, and it will need to be registered through–" Jackie bit her tongue. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to barge in. I'm sure you know it all already."
"No, I don't," he deadpanned. "That's helpful. Can I run it by you once we have the first draft? I'll make an official appointment at school, of course."
Jackie stared at him bewildered. Apparently she once again forgot what sort of a man she was dealing with. Lucky to be dealing with, she thought.
"Of course," she answered, her voice coarse. "I can also put you in contact with Katarina Swedenborg in the Primary, who might be–"
She was interrupted by the doorbell.
"Who could this be?" Jackie asked, and rose.
Alexander stretched his arm and picked up his mobile from the counter.
"It's Bassey."
There was definitely an edge in his voice, and Jackie gawked at him. He turned the phone screen to her, and she saw the video of Stephen standing on the front step.
"But– What's he doing here?" Jackie muttered. "I don't have any deliveries scheduled. And it's rather late. And besides, it doesn't appear like he's brought anything." She studied the screen. "I'll go talk to him."
She was already heading to the hall when Alexander asked behind her, "You sure? I can open the door instead of you."
She whipped her head towards him. He was seemingly relaxed in the chair, but his right hand on the table fisted tightly. His lips in a thin hard line, his eyes narrowed - his whole disposition resembled how he'd offered to duff up Gabe the night before.
"You want to... open the door for him?"
"I don't. And I rather you didn't either. It's late. You aren't obliged to see him."
As subdued as his grimaces were, one could say that presently his frown was slowly turning into a scowl.
"I thought you had no problem with Stephen," Jackie said confused. "You once told me you didn't worry about him."
"That was before."
Jackie simply didn't know how to deal with whatever this suddenly surly and tense attitude of his was. She shortly wondered if he was simply young and immature and, consequently, possessive; but wasn't he too 'woke' for this chauvinistic nonsense?
"Before what? Before I mentioned his name in my sleep?" she asked sarcastically.
"I'm not jealous," Alexander said, his features set in an aloof expression now. "I just don't like the bloke."
"Well, tough tits," Jackie retorted and walked out of the kitchen.
***
"Hi, Stephen!" she greeted the man in an unnaturally jolly manner. "How can I help you?"
"Oh, hi," he said somewhat hesitantly. "Sorry, is it a bad time? Did I–" He glanced over her robe and bare feet. "Did I wake you up?"
"No, I was having tea. What's up?"
"Could I come in for a bit?" he asked. "I need to talk to you, and it's a bit sensitive." He threw an anxious glimpse towards the fence separating her garden from the vicar's.
Jackie's rebellious mood deflated immediately.
"Is it something that could wait till tomorrow?" she asked. "Do you want to meet up over lunch or tea in the afternoon?"
He licked his lips in an agitated habit that she'd forgotten. "Can I come in, Jackie?" he asked again, nervously shifting his weight between his feet.
"I'm not... alone," Jackie said. "I've got a person over."
An untimely joke, which Jackie was prone to when stressed, popped up in her noggin: surely, the shock on Stephen's face could be interpreted as almost insulting. Was it that improbable that someone would like to stay over with her in circumstance that involved her dressed only in her negligee and sporting an obvious bedhead?
"Oh, I didn't– Sorry, I didn't think of it." Stephen wrapped his arms around his middle. "Is it someone– Would that person be OK if I came in?" he asked, beggingly.
Jackie gave herself a moment to ground herself.
"Stephen, what matters if I am OK with you coming in. And I am," she said firmly. "So, c'mon, let's talk."
She moved back and to the side, letting him inside.