I go to the wardrobe and grab a white shirt. I don’t pick the most expensive one this time, although I’m sure they’re all pretty costly.

‘I was just coming to find you.’ He pauses from forking various dishes onto two plates. ‘I like your shirt.’

‘Kate didn’t pack me any slobby clothes.’

‘She didn’t?’ He raises an eyebrow, and I know instantly, Kate did pack me some slobby clothes. That or she didn’t pack at all – I suspect it’s the latter. ‘Where do you want to eat?’

‘I’m e…’ I snap my mouth shut on a shrug.

‘Only for me, yes?’ He grins, shoving a bottle of water under his arm and picking up the plates. ‘We’ll slum it on the sofa.’ He leads me into the colossal open space and nods at the gigantic sofa. I sit in the corner section, accepting the plate he hands me. It smells delicious and it’s Chinese. Perfect.

The doors on the massive television cabinet start sliding across, revealing the biggest, frameless, flat screen T.V I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

‘Do you want to watch television or would you prefer music and conversation?’ He looks at me on a small smile. My fork is hanging out of my mouth. I didn’t realise how hungry I was.

I chew and swallow as soon as I can. ‘I’ll take music and conversation, please.’ That was an easy choice. He nods, like he knew that would be my answer, and the next thing I know, the room is swamped in the calming tones of Mumford and Sons. This is a surprise. I cross my legs and sit back. I made a good choice with this sofa.

‘Good?’

I glance over and find him facing me, one knee up and his arm resting on the back of the sofa holding his plate. ‘Very, you don’t cook?’

‘I don’t.’

I smile around my fork. ‘Why, Mr Ward, is that something you don’t do well?’

‘I can’t be amazing at everything.’ he says, completely straight faced, studying me closely. He really is an over-confident arse.

‘Your housekeeper cooks for you?’

‘If I ask her to, but most of the time I eat at The Manor.’

I suppose it makes sense that he’d take advantage of the lovely food at his disposal. I know I would. ‘How old are you?’

He pauses with his fork midway to his mouth. ‘Thirty-ish,’ He takes his forkful of food, watching me as he chews.

‘-ish,’ I mouth.

‘Yes, ish,’ A smile plays on the corners of his lips.

I return to my food, not in the least bit bothered by his vague answer. I’ll keep asking; he’ll keep evading. Maybe I should try with my own versions of persuasion – maybe a truth fuck or a countdown? What would I do to him on zero? I drift into musing over exactly what I could do on zero, between mouthfuls of my Chinese dinner. I can think of plenty, but nothing I could carry out with ease. He’d overpower me, very easily. The countdown is off the menu, so it’s a truth fuck then. I need to invent the truth fuck. What could I do?

‘Ava?’

I look up, finding Jesse and his frown line studying me. ‘Yes?’

‘Dreaming?’ he asks, his voice laced with concern.

‘Sorry.’ I put my fork down. ‘I was miles away.’

‘You were,’ He takes my plate and slides it onto the coffee table. ‘Where were you?’ He reaches over to pull me into his lap.

I snuggle happily. ‘Nowhere.’

He shifts up the sofa, taking my place in the corner, positioning me under his arm. I rest my cheek on his bare chest, throw my leg over his groin and inhale him in his entire fresh water splendor. I sigh, letting the soft music and the feel of Jesse ease me into a peaceful rest.

‘I love having you here.’ he says quietly, playing with a lock of my hair.

I really love being here too, but not as a puppet. Would it always be like this? I could do exactly this, day in, day out – it’s been a lovely day. But could I live with the controlling, unreasonable side of him? I run my finger along the line of his scar.

‘I love being here too.’ I whisper. I really do, especially when he’s like this.

‘Good. So you’ll stay?’

What? Tonight? ‘Yes. Tell me how you got this.’

He reaches down, clasping my hand to prevent any further touching of the area. ‘Ava, I really don’t like talking about it.’

Oh? ‘I’m sorry.’ I feel bad. That was a plea. Something terrible happened to him, and it makes me feel sick to know that he was hurt in some way.

He pulls my hand up to his face and kisses my palm. ‘Please, don’t be. It’s not something that’s important to the here and now. Dragging up my past serves no purpose other than to remind me of it.’

His past? So, he has a past? Well, everyone has a past, but the way he said it and the fact that we’re talking about a vicious scar here makes me really nervous. I look up at him. ‘What did you mean when you said that things are easier to bear when I’m here?’

He looks down and places his hand on the back of my head, pushing my cheek back down to his chest. ‘It means I like having you around.’ His tone is dismissive. I don’t believe him for a minute, but I leave it anyway. Does it matter?

I push my lips into the void between his pecs, nuzzling into him, while giving myself a mental ticking off. I’m basking in the sun on Central Jesse Cloud Nine, and I’m loving every minute of it, until the need for another countdown or a sense fuck.

And it will come – I have no doubt.

Chapter 35

 

I wake abruptly and sit up in bed. I feel refreshed, revitalised and rested. This bed is way too comfortable. Getting back in mine after a few nights here is going to be a bit of a come down. The only thing that’s missing is Jesse.

I peek under the covers, finding I’m still in my underwear, but the shirt has been removed. I don’t remember coming to bed. I sit quietly for a few moments, listening to a constant whirring sound, accompanied by a consistent thud, thud, thud in the distance.

What is that?

I make the long journey to the edge of the bed and out onto the landing, where the sounds are slightly louder but still muffled. I scan the space below, seeing no sign of Jesse.

Deciding he must be in the kitchen, I make my way down the stairs, but as I approach the archway into the kitchen, I stop and back track. I look through the glass door to the gym, set on an angle just before the kitchen, and see Jesse in a pair of running shorts, going hell for leather on the treadmill. Well, that explains the strange distant noise. I watch him running with his back to me, his solid expanse of skin shimmering with sweat beads as he watches the sports news on the suspended T.V in front of him.

I leave him be. I’ve already disturbed one run. I make my way into the kitchen to fill the kettle and go about making myself a coffee. It’s not Starbucks, but it’ll do.

The familiar sound of my phones ring tone fills the room, and I look across the kitchen to see it charging on the worktop. I scoop it up and disconnect it from the charger. It’s my mother. I’m promptly reminded of her call to me yesterday – the one that I’ve not yet returned and really, really don’t want to. My wide awake, good mood is instantly drowned out.

‘Hi, Mum.’ I greet cheerfully, screwing my face up in apprehension. Here come the twenty questions.

‘Oh, you’re alive. Joseph, cancel the search party. I’ve found her!’

I roll my eyes at my mum’s idea of funny. Obviously, she was expecting a call back before now. ‘Point taken. What did Matt want?’

‘I have no idea. The man never called us once when you were together. He asked how we were, made small talk, you know. It was all very strange. Why is he calling us, Ava?’

‘I don’t know, Mum.’ I moan tiredly, but I suspect I do. He’s on a worming mission.

‘He mentioned another man.’

‘He did?’ My tone is high pitched, a complete give away to my surprise and probably my guilt too. Damn you, Jesse Ward, for intercepting my phone. It would have been easier to brush off Matt’s tales if I didn’t have to explain about the mystery man who answered my phone yesterday.