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The summer had been a success, that was all, positive and productive. And Art was a part of that. She had repaired her relationship with her mother, rediscovered the joys of project planning with the shop and now the wedding – which was going to be an amazing event to reflect Maddy and Jacob’s devotion to one another – and she had reawakened her long-dead libido. She’d recharged her batteries and there was still four weeks to go before she had to say goodbye to everyone.
By which time she would be more than ready to reboot her life and her business in the US.
Art and she had just been enjoying each other, and would continue to enjoy each other for the time they had left together.
No need to overreact.
She tapped on the workshop door. Art swung round. A slow smile spread across his face, softening his features and making the deep pounding in her chest almost painful.
He dropped the brush in a jar of turpentine and switched off The Boss.
‘Hi,’ she said, choking a little on the simple word of greeting.
‘Hey, what are you doing here in the daylight?’ he said, but the smile didn’t falter. He strode towards her, the graceful, predatory stride making awareness prickle over her skin.
God, she was going to miss him. Miss sex with him, she corrected herself swiftly. Because that’s all this was – a physical addiction to a man who had always fascinated her.
‘I figured you might want to take a break.’ She held up the picnic basket. ‘I thought we could have lunch down by the millpond.’
She noticed the flecks of paint on the bronzed hair of his forearms, the spots in his hair as he brushed it off his brow.
He tipped the lid of the basket up, peered inside. ‘Dee’s fried chicken and Badger beer.’ His gaze met hers. ‘Yum.’
The rough tone and that searing look made her fairly sure he wasn’t talking about the picnic menu.
‘You sure we should risk it?’ he added.
‘Risk what? People seeing us eating a picnic together? I think we can risk that, yes,’ she said, just in case he thought ‘picnic’ was a euphemism for something else.
After scooping the basket out of her hands, he tucked it under his arm and cupped her elbow, to direct her through the workshop door into the sunlight. ‘Come on then, I’m ravenous.’
He pressed a palm to her lower back, to guide her through the gate then took her hand as they walked through the woods. She should have objected – it would make them look like a couple, if anyone saw them. But somehow she couldn’t bring herself to tug her hand out of that possessive grasp.
The scent of flowers and tree resin and the buzz of insects filled the late summer air.
She spotted the millpond ahead through the trees. The clear water sparkled like a green jewel, the cool depths beckoning. Rambling roses, wild poppies, dandelions and a patchwork of other flowers and plants she couldn’t name edged the path in bursts of colour and pockets of perfume. A Cabbage White butterfly flitted ahead of them as if leading the way through the ancient oaks shading their journey. The pond finally appeared like an oasis, the man ahead of her like a dark knight leading her back into temptation.
He led her towards the water’s edge – a man on a mission – without saying a single word. Funny to think how much she had come to appreciate Art’s silences in the last few weeks as well as his conversation. What she had once considered a weakness had become one of his biggest turn-ons.
Dan had always been a man who could spin virtually anything and was never short of conversation. There was a lot to be said for a man who believed doing was more important than talking about it.
Art stopped beside the weeping willow where she had once sheltered to spy on him in the moonlight. Placing the basket on the bank where the grass gave way to gnarled tree roots, he let go of her hand. She immediately felt the loss of the firm pressure. But then he reached back to take a fistful of his T-shirt and drag it over his head.
Her mouth dried to parchment at the sight of the smooth planes of muscle gilded by sweat.
He crouched to untie his work boots and kick them off, then unbutton the fly on his jeans, knocking her out of her trance.
‘What are you doing?’ she said, her voice tight and raspy round the ball of lust forming in her throat.
‘Swimming.’ He peeled off his jeans and his boxers with them. ‘After four hours of slapping on paint, in two hundred degree heat, I stink.’
‘Are you mad?’ She swung her head round, frantically scanning the woods while trying to ignore the rush of adrenaline. ‘Anyone could see you?’
Good grief, why did the man have to look so mouth-watering naked.
He placed his hands on her cheeks, forcing her to face him, unashamed about his nakedness. He brushed his thumbs across her cheekbones, the hunger in his eyes accompanied by that wicked smile making her pulse batter her collarbone.
‘No one’s gonna see us. Rob and Mike are working on the other side of the farm harvesting carrots and marrows. Maddy and Annie are tied up in the shop. Tess is taking Melly to a Princess Party in Gillingham and Dee and the kids are watching five plus hours of Harry and co. finally beating the crap out of Voldemort in Salisbury.’
