like she was rebuffing his offer or proposing a date.
Seb looked at her. ‘You're on,’ he said. ‘How about now? It's teatime – excellent time for a cup of coffee.’
‘Weren't you on your way somewhere? Your car is pointing up the road.’
‘I was just cruising around, Tess, hoping to find someone to stand me a cup of coffee.’
‘You make yourself sound like a kerb-crawler.’
‘A coffee I'm happy to pay for,’ Seb said, ‘but not a blow-job.’
He said it so quickly it took a moment or two for Tess to register it and then he laughed at the gobsmack paralysing her face.
‘So what do you say, Tess – coffee? Now?’
She looked at him. And she looked at Em who was fidgeting in the swing and starting to gripe. She'd missed her nap in favour of the singsong. Wolf was still playing dead outside the playground. Tess looked down towards the coast, and then up inland. They were equidistant from the coffee shop and her kitchen. She tried to work out if he paid for the coffee would it be a date and would she be beholden to him? Or, if she offered to make it, would he read this as a come-on? And then she asked herself, would either be such a bad thing?
‘You could come back to the house?’
Seb's smile broadened until it was decidedly smirkish. ‘I'd love to – thanks.’
‘It'll have to be a quickie – I have loads to do.’
‘A quickie? I told you, I'm happy with a coffee – I'm not expecting sexual favours.’
‘I didn't mean –’
‘You're blushing.’
‘I mean –’
‘I know,’ he said, his smile now straight and kind.
‘I'm just up there – leave your car here, if you like. Wolf!’
The walk home took longer than usual on account of conversation impeding the pace, yet when it came to it, Tess felt uncomfortable unlocking the door and inviting Seb in. She wasn't sure how Seb would look in Joe's space. And what if the answering machine was flashing?
It was predictably empty of messages – but this too caused her momentary regret.
‘Jeez, this is a bit nice,’ Seb said and his awe made him seem young and rather gauche.
‘Glorious,’ Tess said, now wondering whether the café would have been a better option. ‘Go through to the kitchen. Can you give me a minute to settle Em in her cot?’
When she came down again, Seb was sitting at the table, his hands on his lap like a schoolboy. ‘I gave the dog some water.’
‘Thanks.’
‘How long have you lived here?’
‘I work here,’ Tess said before wondering why she'd been so quick to say so. ‘It's Joe Saunders's place.’ Why had she, in a single sentence, changed her home back into his house? Now she was taking the picture from the dresser and passing it to Seb. ‘His girlfriend Kate took it.’
Seb looked at the photo and wasn't sure what to say, really. He asked politely about Joe and was told he was an engineer who often worked abroad.
‘I'm the housekeeper.’
‘What a house to keep,’ Seb said. ‘What a place.’
‘Actually, I'm more of a house-sitter,’ she defined reluctantly.
‘How long are you here for?’
Tess shrugged. ‘I'm not sure, really. He said it's a long-term position. But it'll be for as long as he'll have me, I suppose.’ The notion of her impermanence, within this solid, steady house she'd so quickly called home, confronted her.
‘Show us around, then,’ Seb said.
But Tess realized she really didn't want to do that. Parameters hadn't crossed her mind until just then. A coffee was one thing. As was the gentle flirting. Ditto being on the seafront or in a playground with its public background noise. All of those were fine, manageable. But here in the kitchen, alone with a man, it was so quiet, so still – portentous almost. She could practically hear Seb think. And she thought he was probably thinking, wow, this chick has the whole place to herself.
He wasn't. He was thinking that Tess must be lonely up here on her own, cut off in such a lumbering great place; tied to it, what with the baby and the dog. And he really wanted to kiss her and he was wondering if she'd like that. And when might be a good time to try it. To suck it and see. She made a great cup of coffee and there'd been biscuits on a plate, plain digestives alternating with chocolate ones, displayed like petals.
She was returning the photo of her boss to the dresser. Seb sat as he was, watching her. He liked her bum. Her jeans were loose, sitting on hips; her waist was slim, shapely. He could already tell that she had cute tits. He pushed back his chair as she returned to the table and he pulled her right onto his lap, placing a hand quickly to her breast as he slipped his tongue into her mouth.
Tess was too surprised to do anything. And it felt so good which surprised her even more. And because it felt so good, she didn't do nothing for much longer – soon enough she was kissing Seb back.
But she didn't conjure Joe.
Nor did she think Seb Seb Seb.
She was preoccupied with the sensation of being desired, of being kissed and fondled again after so long.
With increasing enthusiasm, she responded to the welling lust to kiss back, to feel and fondle a male form. It was a feeling she remembered vividly but one that she'd tucked to the back of her mind like a holiday she knew she could not afford. Now it was at the forefront and it flowed through her blood to all the zones she'd cauterized since Dick. Since Em. The seam of her jeans was up against her crotch. Her crotch was against his thigh. Subconsciously, she was already rocking her pelvis.
I could have sex with him, right now, Postman Always Rings Twice style, on this kitchen table. I could strip off my top. I could unbutton his trousers and give him that blow-job. My hands are everywhere. And so are his.
It was the silent, searching look of the dog which stopped her. When she opened her eyes to sneak a look at Seb, she found her focus alighting on Wolf instead. He was sitting, head cocked, as if to say, what are you doing? Why are you doing that with him? Why can't you just wait and see?
‘Can I have your number?’
‘I don't have a mobile.’
‘A number for the house?’
‘It's not my phone.’
‘Can I see you again, Tess – without the need for coffee?’
‘Perhaps.’
‘Are you playing hard to get?’
‘No.
