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How could this be love?
No. I have one night, and then it’s back to reality when we return home tomorrow. That’s all.
“Hey.” Tom sat on the edge of the bed, completely comfortable with his nakedness, and handed me a warm wet cloth. “You were lost in thought there.”
I quickly cleaned myself and snuggled back into our sleeping bag. “I let the outside world in just then. Sorry.”
“No apology necessary.” Tom kissed my temple and slipped in beside me, not bothering to put on clothes. I couldn’t be bothered either, wanting as much skin to skin with him as possible.
And then, a memory came back to me, clear as the day it happened. “Sustainable grazing talk.”
I barked a laugh at the absurd timing of the memory.
Tom smirked, running a finger along my collarbone. “You want to talk about sustainable grazing practices after what we have just done?”
“No, I’ve just remembered something.” Why should it come to me now when we’re in a remote shepherd’s hut, of all places, after sex? “The kiss at the scholar’s information session four years ago.” Tom stiffened, his lips in a thin line. “Please, hear me out.”
He tipped his chin to encourage me to go on.
“That man who kissed me was a lecturer. Not Richard. He was … friendly. He left the faculty at the end of that year, and I’ve never seen him again. He did kiss me on the cheek, didn’t he? I think it was a hug goodbye or something, but he was always too friendly. Always felt weird.”
Tom said nothing, watching me with eyes I couldn’t quite read. Irritation? Fury?
“I wasn’t with him like you thought. I just want to say I remember now and can see how it would’ve looked. But there was nothing between us. I tolerated his behaviour as he was a superior faculty staff member.”
Tom scowled, but I continued. “I’m sorry. If you had spoken to me that day, I would’ve listened. And maybe we would’ve fought again. Maybe we would’ve soon realised that Amanda had sent those messages. I just want you to know that I would’ve listened. I missed you.”
“I’m sorry,” Tom murmured. “For not talking. For sitting up the back being a righteous, angry prat who was quick to jump to conclusions and was too much of a coward to approach you and ask to talk.” He swallowed hard, looking down. “I’m sorry I never had the courage to send my letters.”
“What did they say?”
“Maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t.” In the firelight, I could tell he was blushing. “Mostly they were about how much I hated you.”
We both fought smiles.
“The last one I wrote was after Granny Lynn’s funeral when you told me you were engaged. I promised I’d move on and get over you.” His gaze flicked up. “I didn’t. Get over you, that is.”
He tucked me into his chest and we lay there, staring into each other’s drowsy eyes, listening to the sound of the fire, the wind and the occasional murmur from the sheep, until sleep took us.
I woke in the middle of the night from a heated dream to find us tangled up in bedding, our arms and legs wrapped around each other. Our mouths seeking skin.
“I was dreaming of you,” I moaned, sliding my hand between our bodies.
“You don’t have to dream; I’m right here.”
I gripped his cock and Tom groaned, thrusting into my hand.
“I was dreaming of you inside me again,” I whispered against his ear and he rolled his hips.
“I’m so fucking hard. And we’re out of condoms, Rosie, so I can’t make your dream come true.”
“We can do other things,” I murmured, and he immediately planted a searing kiss on my mouth.
“Hmmm, a midnight feast,” he growled, biting my neck, then soothing it with his tongue.
The mix of pleasure and pain addled my brain. “You want to have a snack? Now?”
Tom chuckled and made his way lower down my body. “Let go, love, so I can feast on you.”
