Later that day, Rose finally had been deposited back at the cottage. Rob had never returned from whatever business he was dealing with, so sweet Tommy had brought her home. Appearing at the bedroom door to inform her Rob had called to make him act as chauffeur. She had felt the instant disappointment weigh down in her stomach at that revelation.
With her torn dress in hand and dressed in some of Abby’s jeans and designer ripped t-shirt emblazoned with a punked-out puppy, her hair was tied up in a girly ponytail, and she had some pink trainers on, he drove her home. A perk of being a comparable size to Abby.
Soiled high heels in hand and her clutch bag under one armpit, she thanked the elderly gent at her gate, and he told her Rob would return her car later when he came back. He had not wanted her to chance driving with the amount of alcohol she had consumed last night, even if it was only a short trip, and he had made it clear he wanted to return the mini himself. She had agreed, feeling warm and fluttery in her stomach at his protectiveness and knowing she would get to see him again soon. Silly school girl flutters that she scolded back down.
Rose sighed with relief as she watched the little green metro bump away down the gravel road, glad to finally be home and alone after such an eventful few hours. Her hangover still plagued her, despite the power shower she had taken in Rob’s room. She had spent too long looking at his toiletries and smelling his aftershave while getting ready. She needed some breathing space and a long nap in her own house.
The cottage, much like Muffin, welcomed her like a beautiful familiar friend, and for the first time, almost with new eyes, Rose felt like she was home. Muffin ecstatically jumped around her ankles. He was whining for affection, so she showered him with cuddles, kisses, and a brief walk to relieve his bladder.
Rose took in the rooms before her. Blinking; being away all night was almost like refreshing her sight and the realisation as she walked in the door at how cosy, welcoming, and homely the cottage finally looked. Her living room, with its overstuffed leather couches, plush rugs, and small wooden tables strategically placed with lamps and trinkets. The huge fireplace and mantle were lined with pillar candles and modern photo frames of her family. The neutral tones ranging from creams to caramel, browns, and chocolates in her furniture, throws, cushions, and rugs made her want to roll onto the couch and sleep forever surrounded by her haven.
Without opening her curtains, she pulled one of the thick fluffy throws she kept folded in a huge blanket box against the wall. She laid down on the couch, discarding her dress and accessories. Kicking off Abby’s trainers and swiping all her cushions to one side to make a cosy day bed. She pulled up her throw and slid the Tv remote from the wooden chest, which served as a coffee table. Muffin cried to get up beside her, and she lifted him gently, letting him snuggle in the hollow of her stomach as she curled on her side, revelling in the little hot water bottle. Clicking on some old western movie for atmosphere and drifted off to sleep, wrapped up in quiet cosiness.
* * *
The fright with which Rose woke sent a horrible beating pulse through her stomach, causing internal shakes at the loud hammering in her head. Momentarily disorientated, it took a few seconds to return to her surroundings and realise the noise was from someone at the door. Sitting up in a hurry and startling Muffin from his sleep with a yelp, he angrily leapt from the couch and laid down under a side table to return to the land of slumber. Disturbing a nap was a fate worse than death. As far as dogs went, Muffin was one lazy little beast at the best of times.
It was darker than when she had laid down, and there was some modern horror movie on the Tv, strangling screams echoing from it. She shrugged off the throw weakly, yelling out to whoever was about to get throttled
‘I’m coming!’ before stretching and stifling a yawn. Catching a quick glimpse of her dishevelled appearance and messy ponytail, she walked to the door and pulled it open while running her fingers through her hair and rubbing her sleepy eyes. She was surprised at the darkness outside and the person standing there.
She felt that thud of disappointment again. Matt was towering in her doorway, all bright teeth, smarmy grins, and blonde hair shining at her. Overkill of aftershave choking her, he was clad in a leather motorbike jacket and matching trousers. Catching a glimpse behind him in the dark, a shiny motorbike gleamed in the moonlight with a helmet propped on the seat.
Figures that the flashy yank would have a flashy ride.
Muffin, appearing from the lounge, walked between her legs to sniff his shoe protectively, snorted in disgust, and glared at the stranger with a low, feeble growl. Matt frowned at her little fur ball and attempted to lean down to pet him, which only sent Muffin scurrying back for cover in the main room with a bark. He was not fond of strangers generally, and this was a normal Muffin reaction when on his home turf, except when he met Rob. Matt straightened back up to face her, looking a little bemused.
‘Cinderella, I see you found your way home then?’ He leaned heavily into her door frame, taking up her entranceway rather imposingly. Rose moved back slightly, aware of the lack of space in the small hall and suddenly feeling claustrophobic. She just wanted him to turn around and go away again. His leather jacket and the designer scent made her queasiness return to full force, the hangover still lingering.
‘Um, yeah, how did you know where I live?’ Irritation was barely concealed in her voice. She was in no mood for this type of visitor.
‘Small town baby... I tried this morning, but there was no sign of you. Wanted to make sure you got back okay.’ He trailed his eyes up and down Rose like a dog eyeing a juicy bone. Making her suddenly uncomfortable. He did not seem to care that it was obvious that he was undressing her in his mind’s eye.
‘Well, here I am. I would invite you in, but...’ Without warning, he suddenly came forward, pushing past her into the hall without waiting for her to finish. She was rendered speechless by the fast motion, which left her standing in an empty open doorway.
‘Sure, thanks!’ He moved down the hall, taking up way more space than necessary and eyeing up the paintings as he shrugged off his tight leather jacket.
Rose felt irritated but had no energy for drama, swinging the door shut aggressively. Her hangover still had her feeling rough, her senses telling her he had some pre-planned motive for showing up like this. She figured a cup of coffee, and then she would send him on his way when she found out what he wanted.
She managed to slide past him and make her way into the kitchen, ignoring his facial gestures as their bodies collided in the small space, the dirty wink. The grin suggestively aimed at her face made her want to throat-punch him. She had to duck past his hand, which seemed to gravitate way too close to her rear as she moved past him.
Creep!
She was not someone who enjoyed invasion when abruptly woken from a hangover nap and was not someone who liked overly hormonal men trying to get a quick grope in passing.
He rambled on about the dance and minor details and people while she got the cups ready, and the kettle began to boil, her mind blocking him out as she made empty noises as though she was listening. Meaningless small talk as he followed her a little too closely. Nodding and humming in the right places, she just wanted him to leave.
Passing him the mug across her kitchen table that he was hovering beside, she did not wait to invite him to sit but just plopped down at the nearest seat and began sipping. He realised they were not heading back to her cosy lounge to snuggle on the couch and reluctantly sat down. Watching her face a little too closely. She figured he was probably trying to work out his chances of getting her to her bedroom.
‘So, to what do I owe this flying visit?’ She said brightly, faking a smile. No point beating around the bush when she felt like she was on the verge of a physical breakdown, her headache still painfully hanging around her head.
‘As I said, baby. Just checking to see if you got home and the such. Your mate Lord Big Shot made a heck of a scene outside the party. Thought I had tucked you somewhere in my taxi, trying to kidnap you.’ He laughed easily, showing that dazzling smile and bringing the handsomeness back to his face. Rose relaxed a little.
Was she being prickly due to a hangover? Was her mind overreacting?
He was concerned. Not here to try and molest her.
Maybe.
‘I’m sorry about Rob. He was worried about me. I stupidly wandered off and got lost in the gardens.’ There was no point in going into the embarrassing details.
‘What’s the story there? You two?’ He pushed his mug aside and leaned his forearms on the table, hunching lower to gaze right into her face. It made her uncomfortable again. Something in his eyes made her want to pour her hot drink over his head. She sat back, taking away the temptation.
‘No story. We hardly know each other. I’m his sister’s best friend, that’s all.’ She avoided his eyes, feeling discomfort and hoping he didn’t pry more. She did not like the way he was interrogating her over Rob Munro.
‘So, you’re not screwing him, then?’
She choked on her coffee at his bluntness.
‘Heck No! I don’t...Screw...People. I’m not a slapper!’ Although in the back of her mind, the thought of doing it with Rob brought a very warm sensation to the pit of her body in a rather shameful way. She hoped it also made it clear to him that he would not get any time between her sheets. ‘Look, Matt. I know, being Mr All-America, you’re all very forward and like to bedhop casually, but I’m a small-town girl, and this place is very old-fashioned. People don’t just screw around here like it’s nothing. Sex is a big deal!’ She knew that was not entirely true, but taking the moral high ground was better than a straight-out refusal. She did not want to be overly cruel. He raised his eyebrows, laughing. Thick-skinned.
‘You watch too many movies.’ He finished his coffee with a large glug. ‘And sex is fun and doesn’t need to mean anything. Just two attractive people who get turned on by one another and like how it feels.’ He winked at her and extended a hand confidently. ‘Come on. I’ll show you how good I can make you feel. I am really good at making women squeal.’
‘Em, no thanks!... Really!’ Her voice was flat, recoiling to the kitchen sink quickly and making it clear he was not going to get any rolling on the bed with Rose. He shrugged, only mildly disappointed, and got out of his seat.
‘Well, sweets, as much as I love your company and would love to bend you over this table, I am a man with needs. Plenty of little horny women in this place that won’t say no.’ He covered his manhood in a vulgar gesture that caused Rose to grimace in distaste. He walked towards her, planting a kiss on her cheek, and lingered close a little too long for her liking. His aftershave almost choked her.
‘If you ever change your mind and need a horny male to meet your needs. I’m your man!’ He ran a hand down over her butt and tried to cup underneath. Rose physically recoiled, suddenly feeling like she needed a bath and a Dettol scrub, pushing his hand away hard.
‘I’m sure I won’t! But thanks anyway.’ She slid away from the sink and headed towards the front door, anticipating his leaving. Gesturing that he was being made to go.
‘One thing!’ his voice was behind her, following her down the hall as he hauled on his jacket again. Grabbing the door and pulling it open, she only half replied
‘What’s that?’ She snapped, moderately annoyed.
Without warning, he spun her around in the open doorway, slamming her body against the peeling wood so hard it momentarily winded her. Crushing her with his weight and planting a hard, forceful kiss on her mouth. Her arms caught mid-swing in his strong hands, and he had pinned them at each side of her head. Forcing her into submission. Pushing her lips apart, he tried to deepen the kiss, but she clamped them back shut, trying to bite him in the process, but he was too quick. He moved back to tilt his head and laugh
‘Fiery! I like that in a girl...Well, I’ll leave you with that, and maybe next time, you will want more.’ He released her quickly, almost dropping her.
Rose did not even have time to react in the violent way she wanted; a surge of rage bubbled up within, just waiting for her to release her hands so she could beat him around his smug head. Barely had time to catch her breath and start yelling at him when her face paled as her eyes caught sight of the figure coming towards them. Her entire being dropped to the floor metaphorically. Rob was standing on her garden path like a cold steel statue, glaring at the pair in the doorway. Her pink car was parked at her gate behind his strong, tall form. Her keys swung from his finger mid-air and mid-step.
Oh shit!
Words failed her. Her breath caught and rendered her mute. Rob stood motionless without expression; he had witnessed that little scene. Matt looking smug, strolled past him, throwing back a huge smile and wave, a moment passing between the two men that did not bode well for Rose.
‘Laters, beautiful!’ He jumped on his bike, pulled on his helmet, and took off in an alarmingly fast fashion, engine rumbling and kicking up stoor. Rob and Rose just stood looking at each other. Neither broke the silence for what seemed like an eternity. He held up her keys, shaking them, and threw them in her direction. Rose fumbled to catch them but missed and had to swoop down to retrieve them as she caught sight of Rob’s trainers turning away and walking down her path.
‘Rob??’ Panic flooding through her, she called out impulsively. Her voice returned. He stopped by her gate; no response. Just pausing. His white t-shirt glowed in the dark, showing his sculpted shoulders and wide frame. That longing inside her to reach out and touch him.
‘He just sort of jumped me just then. I was trying to get him to leave.’ She fumbled with her keys and cursed how weak she sounded.
He shrugged without turning to meet her gaze.
‘Nothing to do with me who you kiss, Penelope.’ There was something icy in his tone that made Rose want to weep. His body language was stiff and cool, and he was determined to walk off. Using her pet name brought back a faint memory of him telling her he used it when he was pissed.
‘ROB!’ She was losing her control out of frustration. ‘Look at me!’
His shoulders dipped slightly, indicating a sigh, and he turned his head to look at her. His expression gave her nothing but his eyes, in their steel beauty, looked like a rolling storm. He looked pissed off, truly! Still, his body remained in poise, ready to walk away.
‘What?’ His calm, even voice, again giving nothing away.
‘Thank you for my car. For last night. This morning!’ She was trying to defuse the situation and bring back some of the charming Rob from this morning. Trying to initiate conversation and a return to the interactions of the morning. He was doing a good job of being completely cold and closed off and didn’t look set to budge
‘No problem. I need to go!’ He said it coolly, and his expression matched. Without another word, he moved off.
Rose wanted to cry. All she could do was fake a smile and watched him walk off. Breaking into a jog when he hit her gravel road, leading away. A smooth, effortless run from a seasoned jogger. Not one single look back at her. Rose closed the door after watching him fade into the darkness and slumped down into the hall, pulling her knees into her stomach. She felt that familiar wrenching surge in her stomach, and her heart plummeted.
Bugger!