Page 39 of All Summer Long

Alice stomped back to the manor, turning the air bluer than even Rambo could as she passed the cottages, muttering under her breath.

She crunched up the driveway and straight up the side of the manor, and kept on going over the lawns and past the Airstream.

She slowed as she walked beneath the cool shade of the trees, letting the quiet calm of the woods soak up some of her rage.

Who did he think he was? He’d pushed all of her buttons and she’d found herself angrier than she’d ever been before.

Short of turning green and clubbing him, she needed to think how to handle things, because she’d just hurled a hand grenade into the remains of her marriage and pulled out the pin.

She found who she was looking for contentedly eating grass on the edge of the meadow. Banjo dipped his head towards her, letting her lay her forehead against his warm nose and wrap her arms around his wide neck.

‘Why can’t everyone be like you, Banjo?’ she whispered, scratching behind his ears just the way he liked it. ‘People are so bloody complicated.’

The gentle old horse nuzzled into her, giving her his warm, solid comfort and simple, unconditional affection.

‘I won’t let anyone take this place away. I belong here, and so do you now.’

Crossing to the gypsy caravan, she sat down on its green wooden steps, tracing her finger over the painted flowers as she replayed the ugly scene from the pub in her head.

She hadn’t intended to say any of those things, but Brad had taken her breath away with his audacity and thinly veiled selfishness.

He’d never been a person who fared well on his own.

He needed to be the centre of someone’s world, to be revolved around and adored, taken care of and feted over.

It must have been a bitter blow to hear that she wasn’t going to happily reprise her role of chief ego massager, and the bitterest blow of all to hear that she’d moved on to someone higher on the celebrity scale than he was.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the caravan door, letting the sun warm her cheeks and the peaceful meadow calm her nerves.

‘Hey there, gypsy girl.’

Alice opened her eyes and watched Robinson as he drew near, his green eyes filled with gold glitter by the sun- light.

‘Hey there yourself,’ she said, moving across on the step to let him sit too. He chose instead to step up behind her and sit on the top step, his legs a welcome and protective frame around her body.

‘So, how did it go?’

As he spoke he lowered the straps of her vest down her arms and began to massage her shoulders, warm firm circles that made her sigh and drop her chin down onto her chest.

‘Just about as badly as it could have,’ she said, sweeping her hair over one shoulder and plaiting it.

Robinson rolled his thumbs down the bumps of her spine between her shoulder blades and then back up again. ‘That good, huh?’

Alice slipped her arms out of her vest and turned it into a boob tube. ‘You’ll be hearing from the letting agency soon to ask you to leave before the end of your tenancy.’

‘Already did. Told ’em no can do.’

He seemed so utterly unfazed by it that Alice could feel the tension draining from her body too.

Maybe it was his relaxed company, or maybe it was the skillful way he massaged her shoulders, but as she lapsed into silence and let herself just feel pleasure, her eyes closed and her breathing slowed.

He was speaking, but she couldn’t hear his words because sleep had caught hold of her.

His words were a lullaby, and there on the caravan steps leaning on Robinson’s knees, she fell asleep.

It came as easy as breathing to him. Alice had seemed so in need of soothing, her muscles wound tight even though her skin was so soft and smooth under his fingers.

He’d felt her slowly beginning to relax, listened to her breathing, and then he’d found himself singing to her.

Maybe it was because he knew she wouldn’t hear him, or maybe it was because a small place in his heart wanted her to, but he sang his old country love songs and stroked her hair until she was deeply, blissfully asleep and those knots in her shoulders had melted away.

Whatever it was, holding this sleeping girl felt like the kind of therapy money couldn’t buy, the kind that removed every obstacle and freed every blocked pathway in his head and in his heart.

This wasn’t his ranch and Banjo was a long way from a stallion, but in every way that mattered, Robinson Duff felt like he was home. He closed his eyes too.

The sun had slipped down behind the tree line when he opened his eyes again, the peach and pink layers sliced across the horizon letting him know that they’d been there for quite a while.

‘Alice,’ he whispered, shaking her shoulder lightly. She responded, tipping her head back and smiling, her eyes still closed.

‘Don’t ask me to move. I’m too comfortable.’

He kissed her full, soft mouth and then scooped her up with ease, carrying her across the meadow like a child in his arms.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Wherever you like,’ he said, kissing her again, more deeply. ‘The Airstream?’

Alice moved her arms around his neck more securely, and then said, ‘Take me to the manor.’

Robinson didn’t ask why, just kept on walking, his fingers moving lightly over the side of her breast, her mouth warm against his neck.

He opened the back door of the manor and stepped inside.

‘Where to now?’

‘Upstairs,’ she whispered, unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt.

He paused on the landing.

‘Bath?’ he said. ‘I could light the candles …’

Alice shook her head. They could have just gone inside the gypsy caravan, or over to the Airstream, and a bath sounded divine, but she’d asked him to bring her to the manor for a very specific reason.

Sliding down out of his arms, she opened her old bedroom door, the room she’d shared with her husband.

There was one last ghost she needed to lay to rest.

‘In here.’

Robinson didn’t move for a few seconds, just studied her face. ‘You sure?’

Alice held out her hand and led him inside slowly. ‘It’s your bedroom now, not mine, and certainly not his.’ She didn’t even want to say Brad’s name. He had no place here between them. ‘I want you to make love to me in your bed, Robinson.’

She let her words sink in and then lifted her vest over her head and let it fall to the floor and stepped out of her shorts, watching his eyes. He was turned on, the dark gleam in his eyes told her so, but still he held back, letting her lead because no matter what she said, this was different.

‘Help me?’ she said, turning her back for him to unclip her bra. She closed her eyes when he stepped near and lifted the weight of her hair over one shoulder, pressing his warm lips against the back of her neck as his fingers moved over the clasp and opened it.

Alice slipped her bra down her arms and dropped it, then turned around to face him, vulnerable.

Robinson looked at her, his breathing a little shallow, and traced his hand down from her throat to the silk edge of her knickers.

‘These too?’ He asked permission, even though they both knew he didn’t need to.

Alice nodded, closing her eyes when he eased her underwear down her legs for her to step out of. Robinson lingered to place a kiss against the curve of her stomach before straightening up again, a tender gesture, the slow build she needed.

His Adam’s apple moved in his throat as he swallowed, his eyes dark and hungry as they moved over her body. His fingers were already at his wrists unbuttoning his cuffs, and then moving down his body to get his shirt open.

‘Every day you surprise me, Alice,’ he said, putting his hand behind her head as he kissed her slowly, intimately.

His other hand worked the rest of his clothes off, and then he was naked too and lifted her back into his arms. Being held against his chest had seemed caring and sexy when they were dressed.

Now that they were naked it was different; intimate and protective, a sensual prelude.

‘You’re a warrior, and then a wood nymph. The softest girl I know, and then the toughest.’

He crossed to the bed and lowered her carefully onto the covers, following her down and blanketing her body lightly with his own. It was familiar and alien all at the same time for Alice, overwhelming and gorgeous and sad and beautiful.

‘Okay?’ he whispered, stroking her hair back from her face and fanning it out on the pillow with his fingers.

Alice felt her lips tremble when she tried to smile and tell him that yes, she was more than okay, and yes, she wanted this with him here, and that yes, there was no one else in the world she could imagine lying here with.

She nodded, stroking the back of his head as he settled himself between her legs.

‘I might cry,’ she said, her voice small. ‘It’s not because I’m sad, okay?’

Robinson kissed her forehead, her eyes, and then her mouth.

‘You’re so darn lovely, Alice,’ he said, holding her hand beside her head, his thumb stroking her pulse point.

‘Don’t think,’ he whispered, rocking his hips down. ‘Just feel.’

He was gentle and she treasured him for it, kissing the tears from her cheeks as he moved slowly inside her, holding her close and murmuring her name.