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I turn in shock to see the man I’ve been daydreaming about all day long smiling back at me as he clutches onto to carrier bags in his hands. He’s like something from a damn fantasy staring back at me with those warm, inviting eyes, chiseled cheekbones, and broad shoulders. All I want is for him to wrap me up in those arms of his once more. I love the sensation of him towering over me, taking control of my body, making me feel the things that I didn’t even realize I’d shut off.
“You’re here,” I gasp in shock with my hand clutching in shock to my chest.
“You sound surprised.” He cocks his head and examines me through narrowed eyes.
I don’t know how to tell him without offending him that I am surprised that he’s back. Much as last night was amazing, and the best night of my life, there was never any suggestion between us that it was going to be more than a one time thing. But if I say that aloud, I’m basically calling him a man whore. I don’t know how well that will go down!
“I just have to finish up here,” I change the subject instead. “I hope that’s okay? It shouldn’t be too much longer.” I glance down at myself and cringe when I see how grubby I am from a long, hard day in the dirt. It certainly isn’t my best look! “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company.”
He leans down and gives me a soft and gentle kiss on my lips. It’s so romantic that my heart flutters as we connect. “I have brought some food and I wanted to use your kitchen to make you something for dinner, if you don’t mind?” He sends me a wink so I know his comment is made in jest… not that I feel offended anyway. I know my kitchen is basic, that’s just how I like it. “You’ll have time to finish up here, have a shower if you want, maybe even check in on your dad if needs be…”
I freeze. Does he know that my dad is sick? The whole town knows, it isn’t one of those things that can be kept secret, but I know that my father is a proud man who wouldn’t want everyone to be talking about him. This illness he has kills him mentally more than anything else. It just isn’t right. His pride is the main reason he still lives alone and I’m in the cottage. I’m near, so I can help him, but he doesn’t feel like a burden on my life.
“What do you mean?” I ask slowly and carefully. It’s instantly obvious from the expression on his face that he knows. “Who told you?”
His eyes flicker downwards towards the ground before he answers me, but at least what he says is honest. He knows that I won’t like it, but he says it anyway which makes him quite a rare breed. The men I know, even Rory to an extent, will just say what they think you want to hear. The honesty is refreshing.
“Erica, from the shop, but I promise I wasn’t asking after you. I just mentioned that I saw you playing and she started spouting all this stuff.”
Erica… someone I barely know. I don’t even speak to her much more than a ‘hello’ when I go into the store, but she thinks that she has a right to tell a stranger these private things about me. That’s what I hate about everyone knowing everything, they think my life is their own too. Sometimes it’s nice, but sometimes it’s suffocating.
“I’m sorry,” Brandon says again, making me realize that I’m pumping my fists by my sides in sheer anger. “I didn’t mean to involve myself, I know it isn’t right.”
“It’s not your fault,” I reply through gritted teeth. “Actually it’s fine. It doesn’t matter. I do need to pop to see Dad anyway. Maybe I’ll take a shower at his and be back down shortly.” I dip my hand into my pocket and pull out my keys. “You go inside, help yourself to whatever you need and I’ll be there soon.”
He takes the keys from me and walks away. As he goes I wonder if he’s only here as part of a pity thing. He was in the shop before Erica said anything, buying food for this meal I presume, but what if now he sees me as something different? Part of the reason I enjoyed spending time with him last night was because he didn’t know my story – only the bits I decided to share with him. He didn’t see me as anything other than a sexy woman who was worthwhile, who he found desirable.
Now, that might have changed and I don’t know what I’m going to about it.
“Well, Betty,” I say to my favorite sheep, the one who won’t be going to the slaughter house ever, no matter how bad things get. “I don’t know what’s going to happen now. I suppose I should give him a chance though, right? I should try and find out?” Betty doesn’t answer me, but of course she isn’t going to. She’s a damn sheep after all! “Let’s get you sorted then I can go and have a shower, get myself all mentally prepared for this craziness.” I sigh deeply. “I don’t think I’ll tell Dad about Brandon though, not yet. I don’t know how I feel about all of this and it’s bound to only be short term since he doesn’t even live here. There’s no point, is there, Betty? I don’t want to worry him over nothing.” I stare at her and nod as if she’s answered me. “Right, thanks for that advice. You’re the best friend a girl could ask for, even if you are a sheep who hasn’t actually said anything yet. Let’s go, I can’t put this off any longer. Time to have what I suppose is date number two…”
***
I feel a whole lot better once I’ve checked on my dad and washed myself up. More human, I suppose, and more ready to face what might be happening with Brandon head on. All day long he’s been swimming through my mind, I’ve been thinking about how good it felt to be with him and how I want to do it again, but I certainly didn’t think it’s happen.
“Ooh, my goodness, what are you cooking?” I ask as I push the door to my home open and I inhale the wonderful aromas that fill my nose. “Smells delicious.”
“It’s nothing exciting,” Brandon replies as he plates up. “It’s basically just chicken, boiled potatoes, and vegetables, but I had to work with what’s available in the shops.”
“Yeah.” I take my seat and look up at him. “It isn’t very well stocked, is it? You’ve done well though. When did you learn to cook?”
He pauses for a moment and sits opposite me. As he steels himself for what he’s going to say next I recognise the look in his eyes well. He’s about to say something that he doesn’t talk about much. Obviously, I get that because I often feel the same way when I have to discuss anything related to my life.
“Actually, I learned when I was fifteen years old, just after my mother ran off with one of my school friends.”
“What?” I interject, sounding more shocked than maybe I should. “I mean, wow… that’s dreadful. That’s just really awful.”
“It is what it is.” He shrugs, trying to act blasé but I can see right in to the depths of his soul. I can see this still sings even now. “She didn’t want to be with me and my father then and I guess it’s a decision that she’s happy with since she’s still with him now. As far as I know anyway, all I’m really aware of is the odd bits I see online.”
“You don’t talk to her anymore?” I reach across and rest my hand on his. In a way, this is something we have in common. He must feel like he’s lost his mother in a similar way to me.
“No, I don’t. I haven’t since then.” His tone is tight and hard. “It’s just been me and my father, and since he’s always been at work, and even losing his wife and becoming a single father didn’t change him, I had to be independent.”
“Is that why you work for him now?” I’m prying, I know it, but I’m just so interested to learn more about him.
“I guess so.” He pauses and bites down on his bottom lip. “I mean, it was kind of just the path that was laid out for me. It was expected of me, and I just went with it.”
“Do you love it? Is it what you want?”
