CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

We were in our own little world while waiting for a table to become available at the King's Head Pub. Cuddling in a corner, we simply couldn't keep our hands off of one another. Just one look at us and you'd know exactly what we had been up to all day.

We were loud and in love and unafraid and unapologetic about showing it. We whispered in one another's ears and exchanged private jokes which she so adorably crinkled her nose and cackled at. And there was lots of kissing. Long and slow, short and affectionate, even some French kisses, kisses that were initiated by the both of us.

Her touch drove me crazy. The way she braced my arms to pull herself up to leave gentle kiss after kiss on my lips. The way she hung her arms around my neck, softly stroking my hair and staring deeply into my eyes, telling me she loved me over and over as she beamed. I drew her to me, my hands – concealed by the length of my fleece jacket she wore on her tiny frame – rested on her backside as I pressed her body firmly against mine. I leaned in so that only she could hear. "This afternoon, Clark, … I was just getting started. I'm going to take you back to bed tonight."

She pursed her lips and huffed a clever reply that challenged me to some stimulating witty banter, one I couldn't resist joining her for. "Bed?! You have no bed, remember? You didn't bother to buy one! You, sir, have only a soft cashmere blanket and hardwood floor. A beautiful hardwood floor. But cold."

"Cold?" I playfully retorted feigning disbelief, then lowered my voice to a whisper and came closer to her. "What do you know about a cold hardwood floor? I believe my body served as your cushy air mattress the majority of the day, and your bare bottom, madam, only knew a soft blanket and mthe softest of my hands!"

I raised my eyes and watched her giggle yet struggle with a comeback as she shook her head. "Ok, I got nothing! Oh man! Why do I sometimes have nothing?"

"Well Clark, just so you know. I needn't a bed nor a blanket or a cold floor to make love to you."

"You don't, huh?" she flirtatiously egged me on. "Go on then! What do you have to say for yourself?"

"What I was going to tell you, Clark, " I continued whispering, "Was that I only need to hold you up with your legs wrapped around me, and I'll do all the rest."

I eagerly awaited a brilliant and amusing remark, a sexy smile and a whole new round of giggling. What I knew of Louisa Clark was that while she had made it abundantly clear she hadn't liked sex in the past that she had proven she possessed a healthy sexual appetite for me. Louisa was after all quite forceful with me not on occasion but occasion after occassion, and I was looking forward to being forceful in kind, to bring as much pleasure to her as she brought to me. But her reaction was not at all what I was expecting. She fell almost immediately silent looking like a deer caught in headlights, and I wasn't at first sure what to make of it.

I could tell she didn't know what to say or do. She licked her lips, and looking downwards searched around her as though she might find some words there. But none turned up. She looked back up at me with an expressionless and lost face, and I froze. There was something familiar about the look, the search for words, the silence. It happened the first time I met her in reference to not attending Manchester, then again in Tenby when I wanted to move our steamy makeout session indoors and stay the night. My heart sank to a dark place, and I willed myself not to entertain such ideas. It wasn't possible I thought. Louisa had willfully taken great, great liberties with me. She was aggressive and bossy ,and the one thing I knew beyond a reasonable doubt was that she enjoyed herself and she enjoyed me.

Louisa, however, was cognizant enough to recognize my confusion with a flash of her eyes, and that very awkward silence that lasted for only a millisecond but seemed like forever had passed that very instant. Before I could get a word in edgewise, she began to yammer on a mile a minute. Overly animated and over the top, she exaggerated her exasperation and impatience, even using her hands and pointing to emphasize her frustration . "I'm just SO famished! Did you hear that? My stomach! I thought they said a short wait time. I'm really, really hungry! Like starving! Do you think it would be ok if I asked that bloke over there if I can have the rest of his hamburger. He seems like he's finished. Why else would you shove the plate away from you if you weren't done, right? Yeah?! What's taking so long tonight? It's never like this."

We had only been waiting about 10 minutes, and it was painfully obvious that she had deliberately changed the topic, her theatrics a way of overcompensating for her unusual silence. After she finished her rant, she bit on both her lips with her eyes wide and bulging, pensively observing me to see if her deflection had paid off, a successful avoidance tactic of the question "Are you ok, Clark?" But it did not. And she knew as much. Worry returned to her face as she took note of the fact that confusion and concern remained on mine the whole time.

She and I stood barely a foot apart, and whatever was wrong I wanted to make it better. "Come here, Clark," I gestured with a side nod of my head. I scooped her up into a loving embrace and tightened my hold of her. "Everything ok with you?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course" she waved off my concerns with a fake smile as she addressed me face to face, my hands holding her by the small of her back. "I've just … you know," she stammered so loudly any bystander and passerby could easily overhear, "I've just got this unbelievable… BAD …. I mean REALLY, REALLY BAD CRAVING for the juiciest … I mean THE JUCIEST HAMBURGER! That's all … REALLY!"

I knew she was concealing something from me, and it was neither the time nor the place to ask. For the here and now I wanted to put it out of my mind and see her cheerful, smiling face again. I didn't even know if I could handle the truth if there was a truth to be had. I was actually glad when she stopped a waitress to ask what the hold up with our table was.

"Local celebrity!" the woman proudly boasted. "Just filmed a commercial here this afternoon for an endorsement. The crew's having a bite to eat before they leave."

Louisa was highly skeptical of the waitress's claims and turned back towards me to erupt into a fit of giggles. "Local celebrity in Stortford! Commercial!" she scoffed. "Ridiculous! I want my hamburger!"

Just then our table was called. "Party of 2, Traynor!"

"That's us!" she squealed before breaking into a crazy celebratory dance and song "I'm gonna to have me some big filthy, drippy hamburgers!" With her bubbly personality back on full display, I couldn't help but breathe that much needed deep sigh of relief that she acting her normal self now. And trust me, crazy was normal for her, and it didn't take long before our server learned that for himself!

Once seated in a booth, Louisa became fascinated by the menu, making it a point to tell me that she hadn't been there in such a long time that they had totally overhauled the menu. "Now I don't know what to choose. Everything looks mouthwatering!"

Her indecisiveness led her to change her order numerous times. Armed with a devilish grin and cheeky smile, she overpronounced every word each time she engaged with young Chad. "I'll have a … no, no … make that a … can I get a separate side with that? … then let me have aaaaaaaaa …. Ooooo is that new on the menu?! No, no. I'll take that! Oh but that looks sooooo good too!"

I smirked. I belly laughed. I held back tears she was so funny, so adorable. She was everything to me. "Don't think of me often" I recalled writing in a letter in my dreams where I said a final goodbye to her. I must have been crazy out of my mind to want to leave her. In this life … I wanted her to think of me every second of every day like I did about her. And this was one of the reasons why. Her smile lit up my world, and I lived and breathed to see it.

Not so for Chad though.

He was overwhelmed and flustered trying to keep up with Louisa's ever-evolving order, scribbling and scratching out one of her whims and replacing it with another. Poor Chad. The one thing I could say was that Louisa was no Alicia. She winced feeling guilty about changing her mind so often as she watched him struggle taking her order. "Sorry. So, so sorry." I felt bad for the young bloke just trying to do his job that I reached over to take her hand in mine and delicately eased her into making a final decision. "Clark," I joked, "Make up your mind or you'll never eat."

"I know, right?" she smiled, shaking her head in agreement. "No, no, Chad. Final, final order. Really! Promise!"

A side order of mac and cheese. A side order of beer-battered onion rings and sour cream. One order of 2 chargrilled burgers served on a brioche bun with bacon and Monterey Jack cheese with skin on fries. And one order of grilled chicken breasts with fresh mozzarella with ranch dressing and tomato on a large toasted bun simply to try she exclaimed as she shrugged her shoulders. "It's brand new! I can't decide between that and the burger! And I'm having a super, super craving for a burger! I neeeeed my burger!"

I thought it was impossible to love her anymore than I already did but soon learned that it was still entirely possible to love her even more. I was mesmerized by her and couldn't take my eyes off her as she savagely consumed her meal with the same gusto in which she savagely ravaged me . Louisa raved. She hawed. She drummed her legs under the table before trying each new dish and giggled. She made funny faces to emphasize how delicious each were. "Mmmmmmmmm! Really, REALLY HITS THE SPOT!" "AMAZZZZZZZZZZING!" "IT'S PERRRRRRRRFECT!" She licked her fingers and wiped food from the front of her dress. "Oops! Guess all of me is REALLY enjoying my meal, huh?!"

When she noticed I was staring she sarcastically asked, "What? Never seen a woman enjoy her meal before?"

"Not with the same vigor you go at me, Clark!" I quipped back to a series of roaring giggles, each ending with an unplanned snort despite her not even having a sip of alcohol that evening. "I'm going to stick with soft drinks tonight! Coke only. No need to get more tipsy than I already am on life right now!"

I felt myself getting welled up with tears as I gushed at her. "I do love you, Clark."

"Better," she responded in a whisper as she giggled more, and leaning across the table lovingly admitted, "I would never do any of those things with someone I didn't love and who didn't love me back."

I was in awe of her as I watched her put away and gorge on her second helping of onion rings dipped in sour cream. "You certainly worked up quite the appetite, didn't you, Clark?" I commented as she tore into half an onion ring, the other half falling onto her lap. "You know I did, Will! You were there!" she naughtily laughed, turning a shade of pink. I was even more curious about this little notebook she had pulled out of her purse to scribble on, leaving her greasy fingerprints on the numbered list she appeared to be working on, and every so often doodling hearts around her writing and shading them with her blue ballpoint pen.

In a very flirty manner, I began inquiring about what caught my interest which sparked another round of witty banter. "What are you working on, Clark?"

"A list!" she announced in a haughty and loud voice teasing me like a bad girl.

"I know it's a list, but what's the list for?"

"A "To-Do" list, of course!"

"I can see that! What's it for though?"

"To move in! I like to keep organized, and I don't want to forget anything."

"Well, in that case, can I see?"

"Uh-uh! You would be able to understand it anyway. It's in short hand!"

"Ah, I see!" I began to read it upside down as best I could. "Let's see. Hmmm number one. Change address with credit card company and Royal Mail. Very good start!"

"Thank you," she smirked proudly, playing along as we continued to flirt. I did my best to squint and read upside down.

"Hmmmm … go food shopping … very practical … open … open Amazon boxes and other boxes. Yes, we have a lot to open and set up. Get Venus … in Furs back from K."

"My fancy Deborah Lippmann nail polish! Treena borrowed but never returned it."

"Well, we couldn't have that, now could we?"

"Nope!"

"Hmmmmm …. Extra …. Oh I know! Extra .. thr … thread in basement."

"Very good!"

"Let's see…. Daphne's …. hmmmm…pic .. picture collection?

"Yeah! Beautiful photos of her on set doing fittings! I think maybe I'll get frames one day at lunch and hang them in my new … in my new studio!"

"That's a wonderful way to honor your mentor and teacher, Clark. I'm sure she would be very proud of you and the work you've been doing."

"Thank you," she beamed with tears in her eyes. "It meant the world to me that she would spend the time teaching me everything she knew."

"Well Daphne sounds like she was an incredibly special lady."

"She was! She really was! She made me feel … she made me feel … whole … worthy … again."

Worthy of what, I thought. There was that heart stopping dead silence again, and we both read one another's faces. She mine and mine hers. Don't ask, don't ask, please don't ask her eyes begged as if she had disclosed something she hadn't intended to. Relief suddenly flashed across her face, saved by Chad ready to take our dessert order. "YES! Cheesecake with raspberry compote and whipped cream! And an espresso!"

I let the uncomfortable moment pass and returned to reading her list upside down. "Um …. Don't forget something …. something about silk is all I know …."

"Yes!" she cried overcompensating with the same dramatic tactics as earlier. "Yes! Exactly! Baby shampoo. You have to wash silk in baby shampoo."

"You're the expert, Clark. Sooooooooo, what about number … number 11? Hmmmmmmm Hart … Hartley?"

"Yeah … well never mind that one, ok?" As soon as the words left Louisa's mouth, she pressed her lips together tightly into a pucker and widened her eyes to the point they bulged from her face, which told made me even the more curious about the mysterious Hartley.

"Clark?"

She did her best to ignore me."Mhmmm?"

"Who's Hartley?"

"Mmmmmmm … uh-uh."

"Oh come on! Just tell me!"

Louisa remained tight- slipped, shaking her head no with her eyes still bulging. "No, you'll think I'm crazy!" she protested, although I continued to needle her in the most good-humored way possible.

"Clark, that ship has already sailed, hmmm?"

"Ok, fine!" Louisa reluctantly lamented before that raving mad woman look took a strong hold of her. "So I was thinking …." she sang out bursting into laughter, trying but failing to compose herself. "Alright. You know how Charley … how Charley … ummmmmm ….."

I fought to hold back my own laughter not knowing where she was going with this particular one. "How Charley what, Clark?"

"How she has a second name! Charlotte Grace."

"Uh-huh," I listened intently, hoping it wasn't what I was thinking.

"Well… what if Willow had a second name too?" Louisa paused for a second to gage my reaction before stammering. "You know because I love … well you know how much I love …"

Dear Lord, it is what I thought!

"Hearts?"

"Yeah, exactly! Well?"

"Well what, Clark?" I teased her, unable to resist being the sarcastic arse I am. She cocked her head in response and looked at me baffled, her expressive eyebrows conveying bewilderment.

"Do you like it? Willow Hartley?"

"I love the name, Clark. Maybe for a dog."

"What?!"

I reached for her hand again and massaging it told her," It's perfect!"

"Really? You mean it?"

"I do," I replied with a genuine warm smile as she nodded cheerfully at a job well done. I hope she knew I would give her anything she wanted.

"So what about 15 through 20? FP with … a bunch of illegible scribbles?"

"Shhhhh!"

"Why are we shooshing?"

"FP!"

"FP?"

"Shhhhh! Foreplay!"

"Ahhhhhh!I think we already did all those things, Clark! Today in fact."

"Well, I want to do them again."

So did I, but I had a better collective term for her single FP entries, one that wouldn't limit our actions or inhibit our imaginations. I gestured tor the pad and pen. "May I?"

She willingly pushed both across the table towards me and boasted," I can't wait to see what you add, Will Traynor!"

I crossed off items 15-20 and inserted a single entry to replace them, and very pleased with myself pushed the pad and pen back to her. "Here. Read it for yourself."

Louisa's mouth fell agape, but once the shock wore off, she crinkled her nose and cackled. "Is that what we're calling it now? A Game of This or That?!"

I licked my lips proudly. "A Game of This or That, yes! I think you helped create that one if memory serves me right!"

She knew I was right, and I squinted my eyes at her until she fessed up to it. "I'm not letting you out of this one, Clark!"

"Fine! You got me, ok? But if it's a game, Will, how does one win?"

"See, Clark, the way I see it we both walk away winners! It's a feel-good game for all involved? Don't you think?"

"Very feel good!" she giggled lowering her voice and feeding me a forkful of her cheesecake, intimately wiping raspberry from my lips. She quickly looked around to make sure other pub goers hadn't been eavesdropping on our very private conversation when her upbeat mood ceased in the mere seconds she had taken her gaze off of me. Louisa straightened up in her seat and shifted uncomfortably. She gritted her teeth and took a hard gulp of her espresso with a pained face before pushing the cheesecake away from her.

What she said next really concerned me. "Will, do you think we can go? I want to leave."

Something was wrong. I linked my finger onto hers as she loosely cupped her espresso and affectionately asked her outright what was wrong. Who or what in this pub made her want to leave. "You were really looking forward to that cheesecake. Why do you want to go before you've finished?"

"Just full and tired now I guess. A lot of excitement today."

I studied her closely trusting my instincts, knowing her well enough to know when she was lying to me. Tired, my arse. An excuse, that's what that was. "Louisa?" I uttered with both my face and tone of my voice conveying let's have it, out with the truth now.

Her shoulders and body sank in the booth, her body language screaming defeat. "Pat's here, ok " she grimaced, gesturing with her hand to indicate somewhere across the room from us.

"Ah," I calmly responded turning my head slightly to peer out without being too obvious.

Panic immediately spread across her face. "No, no. Don't look!" She motioned with a thrust of her head to the side. "He's seated over there. He was staring. I bet he's been staring at us the whole night. Let's just go, ok?"

Louisa was right. There Running Man sat at the opposite end of the crowded pub, his eyes transfixed on us. A glowering scowl. A scorned man. A jealous man. A very jealous man.

I didn't for one second feel bad for him. It's not like he treated Louisa well. He was a rubbish boyfriend, and she certainly didn't owe him anything. It was, however, Louisa 's safety and comfort level that I was most concerned about though

"Are you sure you don't want to stay and at least finish your dessert?"

"Positive. If we stay I know I wont enjoy myself."

"You know Stortford's not like London. You're bound to run into him at some point."

"Yeah, well I just don't want a confrontation right now, maybe like ever. He's not the nicest person to deal with, even on good day. I don't know the people he's sitting with, but I bet he's probably watched us the entire time we've been here. I really just want to go. Ok? "

I wasn't about to force Louisa to do something she didn't want to do or wasn't prepared to do yet. That simply wasn't my style. "Ok, then," I gave in. "I'll pay the bill, and we'll head out."

"Thank you," she sheepishly winced. "I know I shouldn't let Pat bother me, but you don't know him the way I do. He has a vindictive streak to him."

Unfortunately, on our way out we had to pass Patrick and his new posse who put on quite the show at our expense …