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“I think that may be the only option,” Llywelyn muttered ruefully.

Was he regretting things? “Ah, there it is.” He pushed the door open and light flooded the room.

I exited sheepishly, trying not to pat my hair down and make it even more obvious that untoward things had gone on.

A hundred sets of eyes swivelled our way, the children obviously not knowing what had gone on but a couple of the teachers staring at us.

The real Tom Brown sat next to Mrs Ifans and blushed. He was definitely ogling us for some reason. Mrs Hayward was stood on the stage, obviously about to start her assembly.

“Sorry,” Llywelyn said as he climbed up on to the stage. “Just…grabbing my tools.”

I heard a snort come from the other side of the hall, and knew before I even looked that it was Tom Brown. When I did look, he had his face in his hands and Mrs Ifans was looking at him like he was gone off. I liked him.

“Come on,” Llywelyn muttered to me as he walked past and toward the double doors that led into hall. I sheepishly followed, well aware still of how many of the teachers were either shooting daggers or looking at us with expressions of undisguised curiosity.

He walked swiftly through the hallway, and out into the open air. “Hey,” I called after him. He kept walking. I tried calling again, but he didn’t stop. I jogged to catch up with his longer strides, and put one hand on his shoulder just as he reached his van.

“What?” he asked, his face like thunder.

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked?

“You? What could you have done wrong? I kissed you. ”

“And was it that bad that you regret it?” I felt hurt.

“Not at all, I just didn’t…” Llywelyn stopped for a second. “I don’t imagine for a second that you’re interested in me, and that’s fine. I just don’t want to force myself on you.”

“And why would you think I wasn’t interested?”

“It’s just….” Llywelyn turned away again and opened the back doors in the van. He started to load his toolbar in, and spoke with his back to me. “You’re some high-baller in the city, and I don’t for a second think you’ll be interested in a small town handy-man.”

I stepped toward him. When he turned back toward me he flinched slightly at the proximity.

I took one of his rough, working hands in my own, then stood on my tip-toes to give him a quick peck on the lips.

“I am very interested in you. And very attracted to you. I’m only here for four days, but if you want to do a little bit more of…

whatever that was, then I’m very much up for it. ”

Llywelyn looked slightly shell-shocked but then leaned down to kiss me back, a brief kiss that promised more.

“If we are going to do…something,” he said, then hesitated as if unsure of what to say next.

“Then I would like to do it properly. Even if you are only here for a few more days. What are your plans for tonight?”

“Nothing,” I said. “Unless you count yet another soap marathon with Nain.”

“Great, I’ll come and get you at seven,” said Llywelyn. He smiled and kissed me again. “Don’t eat beforehand.”

◆◆◆

Nain watched me as I paced her living room, two jumpers in hand.

“Which one do you think?” I asked, brandishing the cream one toward her like a weapon.

“The teal, I’ve said a thousand times.” Nain kept twitching her head to try and get a better view of the television as I paced. “Anyway, he’s just taking you out. He already likes the look of you.”

“I know, but no one has taken me out in years , I don’t even know what the protocol is for this.” I looked at the teal jumper she had suggested and threw it aside. “I’m going with cream.”

“Of course you are, cariad . Anyway, what do you mean no one has taken you out in years? You’re lovely, and a handsome boy too.” Nain looked affronted on my behalf.

“I work a lot, Nain. 12 hours a day in the week and then sometimes the weekend too. Who am I going to find to tolerate that kind of work? And if I do, when are they going to find time to take me on a date?” I didn’t want to explain that the closest I had gotten to a date in the last year had been when a guy offered me coffee at his place before we went to the bedroom.

I couldn’t remember the last time I chatted to someone for hours before sex.

If that was even what Llywelyn wanted. Or I did.

“Just relax, the man likes you. Enjoy the conversation and the food.”

“Food? Where is he taking me?”

“There are only two possible places, nowhere too fancy. You’ll find out when he gets here in…about five minutes time. Never late, that one.” Nain nodded to herself and once again tried to watch television around me. “You’d make an excellent door, James. But a terrible window.”

“Thanks Nain. I really appreciate it. But if you could-” the doorbell rang before I could finish. “Shit!” I threw the cream jumper on over my head. “How do I look?”

“As gorgeous as always.” Nain looked me up and down with pride. “Let’s get you to the ball, Cinderella.”

From the hallway I could see Llywelyn silhouetted in the light of Nain’s porch. She opened the door before I could get to it. Damn, he’s gorgeous.

Llywelyn had obviously put a bit of time into trimming his beard and taming the curls on his head.

The usual beanie was gone and he wore a freshly ironed white shirt.

His jeans, usually covered with paint splatters and a little bit messy, were clean and pressed.

I wanted to jump him right then and there.

Husband material, my mind supplied. I only had three more days before I would be back in London, and I would take every second I could.