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His kiss grew bolder, and when he slid his mouth across her jaw, down her neck to her breast she didn’t push him away. She’d never actually had sex, even though most of her friends had. She’d come close, but then her mother had died and Izzy had found it impossible to connect with anyone. She’d felt isolated and alone. But she didn’t feel alone now. Not with Aiden kissing her, and telling her how beautiful she was and how much he cared for her.
I love you, Izzy, I love you.
And she squeezed her eyes shut because she wanted to believe him so badly, and because she wanted this to last forever.
She stroked him, explored him, feeling like a sex goddess as he moaned against her lips.
And just when she thought they might do it, right here and now in a field of daisies, he pulled away and drew in a ragged breath.
“We should—” He broke off, swore under his breath and raked his hand through his hair even though all that happened was that it flopped back exactly where it had been in the first place.
She grinned. “I love that your hair does that.” Her comment relieved some of the tension and he grinned back.
“Does what?”
“Falls into your eyes.”
He dropped his gaze to her mouth and then gave a groan and sprang to his feet. “I’m going swimming.” He sprinted away and she gave a choked laugh and sat up.
“Aiden! Wait.”
“I’ll see you in the water.”
“But it’s freezing.”
“I’m counting on it.” His words drifted back to her on the wind and she smiled and followed more slowly, dodging butterflies and bees as she headed back from the meadow to the shoreline.
He was already in the water when she joined him and they fooled around, splashed each other and then lay stretched out on the dock and let the droplets of water evaporate under the hot sun.
They laughed and talked, and at one point the thought crept into her head I wonder if this is how Flora makes my dad feel, and then she decided she didn’t want to think about that. She didn’t want to think that Flora might be a permanent fixture in their lives. For today she just wanted to think about herself and Aiden.
15
Flora
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jack held her hand as they followed the trail that led through the forest. He’d refused to take the path that led alongside the lake. “I knew your mother died, but I didn’t know how.”
Sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves. Apart from the occasional crack of a twig underfoot, their steps were silent, muffled by moss and vegetation.
Flora, used to the blare of car horns and sirens, found the peace calming.
“It’s not something I usually talk about.” But she’d just announced it in grand style at breakfast. She’d been almost as shocked as they were. Even Julia didn’t know the details of her mother’s death. So what had changed? How had she reached this point when a few weeks before she would have been so desperate to fit in and earn their approval she probably would have accepted Izzy’s invitation and climbed into the damn boat?
And it was Izzy herself who was indirectly responsible for the change. Her sharp words had slid into Flora like a knife, all the more lethal because there was an element of truth behind what was said. She did have trouble speaking up.
Her words had stayed with Flora through the rest of the evening and through a long and sleepless night. And it wasn’t only the words. In those few tense seconds before the teenager had yelled, Flora had seen vulnerability and gratitude. By stepping in and stepping up, Flora had made her feel a little less isolated and alone. And although the whole thing had blown up afterward, she’d still been left feeling a little closer to Izzy. She could see now that what their relationship needed wasn’t for her to make more effort, but for her to be more honest. No relationship was ever going to have depth unless you were honest.
And while it was true that the timing and delivery could have been better because the last thing she wanted was for Izzy to think she was sulking, the most important thing was that they now knew she hated water. There would be no more invitations to go kayaking or swimming. That was a relief, but it also felt good that they knew her a little better.
And she’d been touched when Clare had pulled her aside earlier and checked that she was okay, not in that stilted polite tone that she usually used but with genuine warmth and concern. It felt to Flora that Clare had seen her as an individual for the first time, and not just Becca’s replacement.
And now she wanted to forget about it and enjoy the silence, the fresh air and the feeling of Jack’s fingers tangled with hers.
Jack, however, wasn’t keen to be deflected. “Why wouldn’t you talk about it? Flora, this is huge. I want you to feel you can tell me anything and I’m worried you didn’t feel able to tell me this.”
She stopped walking. Depth. Honesty. That was what she wanted.
On impulse she fumbled in her bag and pulled out the photograph she carried with her everywhere. “This is my mother.”
