Page 79 of Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

‘And,’ Eve continued, ‘isn’t that a good place to start? That Tom cares for you, supports you? Better than meeting some stranger down at the pub or something.’

Rachel let out a long slow sigh. ‘Or an electrician who wouldn’t even know how to screw a lightbulb!’ She gave a wry smile.

‘Exactly.’

‘Yes, but …’ It was hard to frame her thoughts. All she knew was that one minute she was desperate to be in Tom’s arms, to make that kiss a reality, but then she was backing away, building those walls around her heart. And what was weird was that these feelings had completely crept up on her in just a few short months. Might the feeling just go again as quickly as it came? Was it just lust, seeing him with his shirt off like that? Maybe they’d get it out of their systems, only for it to fizzle out and the whole relationship would be tarnished.

‘There’s no real rush I suppose, Rach. Why don’t you give yourselves a bit of time and see how things go?’

‘Yeah.’ Rachel took a long sip of her wine. ‘You won’t say anything to anyone, will you?’

‘Of course not. But hey, be careful you don’t miss out altogether. He might not wait around forever, you know.’

She hadn’t thought about that … Tom with someone else. How would that make her feel? What if someone else did make a move on him? Someone else in his arms, his bed. Ooh, she felt a bit sick thinking about that.

‘When did love get to be so complicated, Eve?’

‘Wow, you’ve just mentioned the word love, Rach. Oh hun, when you’re scared you know it’s worth it. Because there’s so much more to lose.’

Her friend’s words rang true. Crikey, was she in trouble.

In bed, later that same evening, Rachel let her mind wander back to Tom. Well, it hadn’t been off him for long to be fair. She allowed herself to imagine the next few seconds after that moment on his doorstep; if she’d let his lips touch hers, felt his body pressed close against her. The warmth of him, the strength of him, from the firm muscles of his torso to the delicate curve of his top lip soft against hers. But if she tasted that, could she ever bear to lose it? And risk wrecking their friendship too? It was surely best left in her imagination.

But, oh my, a sense of deep yearning was building. She realised she wanted him so much. How could she even act normally when she next saw him? She felt like she’d been zapped into some fifteen-year-old’s body with all the angst that went with it. Crazy, crazy woman.

Lying in the dark, in the bed that she’d slept in on her own for years, suddenly felt so very lonely.