Page 90

“There’s a Thai takeaway in the kitchen,” I tell her.

I’ve had to leave one wall unpainted as we’re waiting for the plaster to dry out, but the other three walls glow a light-peach in the late sun and fairy lights.

Vix doesn’t say anything. She walks across the room, then stops by the door to the kitchen. Ewan has replaced all the cupboard doors, and today I bought a microwave and a kettle, just in case we need them. I’ve scrubbed all the worktops and cleaned the sink. “Bear’s going to fit a new splashback,” I tell her. “And Grandad’s old fridge is still working.” I open it to show her a bottle of champagne. “I’ve given it a good clean, but we’ll get you a new one once you know you’re moving in.”

She nods, but still doesn’t say anything. She looks at the bag holding cartons of Thai takeaway that are sitting on the counter, but even though it smells amazing, she doesn’t touch it. Instead, she walks out.

The main bedroom door is closed, and she walks along the corridor, pausing to look into the two smaller bedrooms. We’ve painted the one that overlooks the park a pretty pink. “For Millie,” I say, unrepentant. The other one is a light spring green.

The bathroom is the one room we haven’t got around to doing. “Bear’s ordered a new bathroom suite,” I tell her, “and it should be here before Christmas. Leo and Ewan will fit it and then they’ll repaint the room. But I’ve cleaned this one from top to bottom, and the bath is nice and deep, if we…”

She’s staring at me, and suddenly I feel tongue-tied. Fuck. With growing horror, I realise what I’m saying, and how this must look. “Vix…”

She turns and walks out. I follow her, my mouth going dry. “Wait…” I say as she goes to open the bedroom door.

But I’m too late. She’s opened the door, and she walks in.

I stand in the doorway and lean on the post, shoving my hands in the pockets of my shorts and hunching my shoulders. She walks to the foot of the bed, then stops and looks around.

I painted this room pale cream, and I’ve hung several strands of creamy-white fairy lights around the room that fill it with a warm glow. The local firm that fits curtains has promised to finish the rest of the rooms over the next few weeks, but I bought a set of ready-mades for the windows, and I put them up myself, along with some new bright-white nets.

We had a mattress delivered today and managed to get it up the stairs and into the bedroom with much cursing and laughing. I bought a new king-size duvet, some white sheets, and a pretty white duvet cover with small flowers along the bottom, and a range of coloured throw cushions because I know Vix likes those, and they’re all stacked against the big white pillows.

Finally, I bought some white tulle, and I’ve hung this on the brass bed frame, so it falls around the bed in folds. It looks like a beautiful, romantic grotto.

At least, that was the plan. I can also see how it might seem as if I’m assuming she’ll go to bed with me.

“Um…” I hunch my shoulders as she turns to face me. “I can see how this looks, and I swear I didn’t mean it to…”

She looks at the bed, then back at me. “You mean you’re not hoping to take me to bed?”

“No! Well, yes, obviously, I can’t deny it, just look at the place. What I meant was, I just wanted to provide the means if the opportunity arose…” My voice trails off.

“If the opportunity arose…” Something gleams in her eyes. She’s either extremely mad or amused. I can’t tell which.

“You know,” I say lamely. “I thought we needed some space and time just to be with one another… It’s been hard to find time to be alone… I thought we could have dinner, and talk for a while, and work out what we want, not that I was assuming you’d want… me… but if you did, I didn’t want to just put down a sleeping bag… I wanted you to be comfortable… Jesus, Vix, say something, I’m dying here.”

Her lips curve up then, just a tiny bit. She looks around the room, at the lights, the tulle curtains, the throw cushions, then back at me. “You did all this… for me?”

I give an embarrassed shrug.

“You want me?” she asks.

I melt like chocolate left out in the sun. “Of course I want you.” I look over my shoulder into the living room. “Why don’t we have a glass of wine and something to eat, and then later we can see whether—” I look back at her and my voice vanishes. She’s grasping the bottom of her T-shirt, and as I watch, she draws it up her body and tosses it away.

“Get your kit off,” she says, fumbling at the button of her shorts.

My jaw drops. She’s wearing a pretty cream demi-cup bra, and her breasts are propped up and half-covered in lace. As I watch, she undoes the button of her shorts, unzips them, and lets them fall.

“Off,” she says. “Right now.”

I grab a handful of my All-Black jersey at the back of my neck. “We don’t have to,” I say weakly, pulling it over my head. “We should have dinner first…”

“Nope.” She takes off her bra, then slides her underwear down. “I’m not wasting a single minute that I could spend in bed with you.” She walks up to me, throws her arms around my neck, and crushes her lips to mine.

Ohhh… holy shit. Is she for real? “Are you sure?” I ask, lifting my head, hoping she doesn’t feel pressured into it.

“More than I’ve ever been sure about anything in my entire life,” she says vehemently.