Page 38 of Be More Octopus

He worked on the shoulders next, then quickly moved on to the fronts. She had to admit, he seemed to have got the whole process down to a fine art.

'Ta-dah,' he said, putting the finished shirt on a hanger.

Em tutted and shook her head. 'Two minutes, four seconds.'

'What are four seconds between friends? At least it was nowhere near as long as ten minutes.'

'I'll let you off the extra four seconds if you've got all the creases out.' Em got up to inspect the finished shirt.

It was annoyingly perfect.

'Your turn,' he said, handing her another shirt from the wash basket.

'Is this just a ploy to get me to iron the rest of your shirts?'

'Why would I do that if I can do them five times faster?' he laughed. 'I'm just intrigued how it takes you so long to iron one shirt.'

He perched on the arm of the sofa to get a good view of the ironing board and got the stopwatch on his phone ready. '3, 2, 1, go.'

Em usually started with the shoulders, but, remembering Jack's technique, she tried the collar first. It was only slightly wrinkled, so this should be easy. Em ran the iron across it. Three new creases appeared around the stitching at the end of the collar. Jack winced. She moved the iron back over the collar, removing the new creases but introducing two more at the other end. She quickly flipped the shirt over so he wouldn't see them.

Em moved on to the sleeves, smoothing one onto the board with her hands. She ran the iron over it and turned it over. She'd created a massive crease on the back of the sleeve.

Jack turned the stopwatch off.

'I haven't finished yet,' Em objected.

'I can see how it takes 10 minutes now. It's painful to watch. Do you want me to teach you how to do it quicker?'

'Go on then.'

'Let's start with the collar where you added the extra creases.'

So he had noticed.

'Don't iron the whole collar in one movement. Start from the tip and gently stroke down.'

Was the double entendre deliberate? Or was it just her mind going to places it shouldn't? Em tried to follow his instructions, but she still made a new crease.

'You're rushing it. I'll show you,' Jack said, walking around to Em's side of the ironing board. He put his hand over hers on the iron and guided her. Em felt a warm glow all over that had nothing to do with the steam coming from the iron.

'Now we do the other side. Start at the tip and gently work your way back again.' Please stop with the dirty talk. Her hormones were in overdrive now. How could ironing be such a turn-on?

Jack seemed flustered too. Or was she imagining that as well? 'Sleeves next,' he said.

'I'll just move to one side so I can watch exactly what you do.'

'Good idea.' He seemed grateful for the suggestion. Perhaps she hadn't imagined it then. 'I'll demo one, and you can do the other.'

As soon as he'd finished the sleeve, he left her in charge of the iron and returned to a safe distance on the arm of the sofa. He patiently talked her through ironing the rest of the shirt.

Em held up the finished article proudly. He was right. It was strangely satisfying when the end result was perfect.

'Do you want to do that again?' Jack asked.

Em resisted the temptation to say “yes but without the iron”.

CHAPTER THIRTY