Page 87 of Rachel’s Pudding Pantry

Rachel had been trying and failing to concentrate on some farm documentation. She had already changed into her smarter jeans and a clean red T-shirt earlier, ready to head out. She grabbed a couple of bottles of cold lager from the fridge, said her goodbyes to Mum and Maisy, and jumped on the quad.

The sense of anticipation felt like bubbles through her veins as she sped towards Tom’s farm. Although, what if it was just her imagination? It wasn’t like they were going on a date or anything, she told herself. Tom would be tired, he’d had three long days harvesting – she’d heard the hum of the combine and tractors working away through the evening these past two nights, and seen the lights shifting over in the valley, well after dark.

As she turned into his farmyard, she spotted Tom at the tractor shed, where he was parking up the big yellow combine harvester, ready to secure it for the night.

‘Hey,’ she called out as she pulled up.

‘Hi.’ His smile was warm.

‘Thought you might be ready for one of these …’ She got down off the quad, pulled out a cold beer from her rucksack, and opened the lid with her penknife.

‘That is just perfect, you really are my kind of woman.’ He grinned. ‘It’s been stifling in the cab of the combine, I reckon the air con’s on the blink.’

‘Ah, no. Not what you need.’

Tom perched himself on a straw bale near the front of the shed, where the evening sun was streaming in. Rachel settled beside him.

He took a long slow drink. ‘Ah, that’s good. So good. You must be a mind reader.’

‘Hah, I can just imagine what it’s like working in one of those things all day. So, you got it all finished, then? That’s great.’

‘Yeah, we cracked on well this afternoon. Just in time too, mind. The weather forecast is dreadful for tomorrow. High winds and heavy rain coming in.’

‘Yes, I saw that.’

You’d never guess from the balmy evening they had tonight. It was evidently the calm before the storm, the sky azure with small puffs of cloud, swifts and swallows darting around. It was an evening to make the most of.

‘Well, I’ve been cooped up all day, so how do you fancy a walk? Stretch our legs, and take a wander up the top of Kirk Mount?’ It was the nearest hill, lying behind their two farms in the foothills of the Cheviots.

‘Yeah, why not. That sounds nice.’ Despite being outside a lot of the time, Rachel hardly ever went out for a walk as such. It was such a lovely evening too, it’d be a shame to have to go in already.

‘Great, I’ll just get the padlock on the shed here and then I’m ready to roll.’

It was a gorgeous leisurely half hour, Rachel and Tom strolling with the evening sun on them, and it felt a world away from the worries and responsibilities of farming life.

They were soon at the top of Kirk Mount. A rocky rise marked the high point, and around it were patches of mauve heather and stubbly grass that had been nibbled down by the moorland sheep. The sun was setting earlier now with the August summer nights, and it had already started to dip behind the Cheviot Hills, with the sky towards the coast turning into a blush of pink, pewter and peach. It really was beautiful.

It was so special, taking a little time out, chatting away on their ascent, but there was no hand-holding like on their walk home to Primrose Farm on the night of the barbecue. In fact, Tom seemed shy of any physicality today, like he might be afraid of doing the wrong thing.

At one point on the way up, Rachel had made a move, reaching tentatively for Tom’s hand, almost brushing fingertips, but then she wondered, had she got this all wrong? She felt suddenly unsure of herself.

Did Tom want to keep it as friends, after all? Was that why he’d brought her up here, to say that they ought to leave the kisses as a moment in time, and go back to how things were before? Would it be better that way? She turned her gaze from the view and found that he was looking at her. Her heart missed a beat. But what were those dark eyes really saying?

If he had doubts too, then they had to leave this right here, right now. But, could this be something so much more? She was at the edge of feelings so new, so raw, so unknown, yet powerful. Her heart seemed to ache for him.

‘Rachel?’ The word was clear, yet softly spoken. A question. Permission?

She turned towards him as their eyes locked meaningfully. He reached to run a hand gently through her dark wavy hair, and then moved in closer. Their eyes were still locked together as their lips met; tender, warm and loving. Oh, yes. His tongue now teasing, tempting, stirring so much longing within Rachel.

They pulled apart briefly, and smiled at each other, his caring, sexy, dark eyes intent on hers. From the stirring inside, she knew that this had gone way beyond the realm of friendship, but it didn’t seem to be just about lust either. It felt like the whole damn gorgeous caboodle … Every nerve ending tingling, and something deeper filling up a hole in her heart.

With Jake, it had been a massive teenage crush, and yes, she’d fancied the pants off him. But she had been so young and naïve; it had been sexual and sensual but it hadn’t ever reached a deeper level. She never felt that Jake really ‘knew’ her. This with Tom, it felt like coming home – a very sexy, passionate, to-the-core-of-you home.

‘Tom,’ was her answer. His name strong and sure on her lips.

She lost herself to his kiss once more. Then, she pulled him gently with her towards the ground, where the grass was cushion-like beneath them. Kissing, and touching, and tasting, setting free everything she’d held back on for so long. This man was beautiful and loving and caring, and she’d already glimpsed his rather gorgeous body. She shifted onto his lap, where she felt the heat and firmness through his jeans that was so sensual, so life-affirming. It was good to know how much she turned him on, it gave her confidence, fuelling her own desires.

She knew where this might be going, needed to check if this was right for them both, and if so, was Tom prepared? She hadn’t had to think about contraception in such a long time.