"Do you remember our first kiss, Charlie?" Elsie asked from the settee.
He looked over to where she was sitting. They'd retired to the sitting room and taken up their usual places. The large armchair by the fire was more than sufficient for his frame and deep enough for his long legs to be supported. A small glass of red wine was balanced precariously on the arm, supported only by a finger and thumb on the stem. She'd pretended not to notice, praying it didn't slip and she'd have to spend the evening scrubbing the resulting stain.
He frowned. "Of course."
"And?" she said, her eyes not lifting from the page of her book, wetting her finger and turning the page as she waited.
"And it was heaven," he replied simply, a bit bemused at the question but giving all due thought nonetheless. "My heart soared the first time I felt your lips on mine."
Her eyes flicked up, smiling affectionately in return. "Mine too," she replied. "And what about our second?"
"Also very nice," he coughed, taking a sip of wine to cover his slight unease.
"Nice?" she teased. "More than that, if I recall. You were a little, what?"
"Braver?" he offered, warming to her theme.
"I was going to say eager," she laughed.
He reached down to move his glass to the stone hearth, folded his paper and shoved it down between the cushion, ignoring her tut as he did so. She did so hate it when he did that, the newsprint came off on the fabric and it was a devil to clean and she'd told him more than once.
"You're a hard woman to resist, my dear," he said as he crossed the room to the settee and sat down beside her. "And it was still very respectable. We were engaged to be married."
"So, is that your excuse for our third kiss?" she asked, tilting her head back and resting it on the cushioned back.
He leaned towards her as he lowered his voice. "Now, I think we both know who's responsible for that little escapade," chuckling softly.
"Are you insinuating it was my fault?" she asked, bewildered at the very idea.
He nodded, "Absolutely, I am. You were quite forward, Mrs Hughes, if I recall."
She shook her head, "You caught me at an inopportune moment and - "
"I did not," he interrupted firmly, pulling back from her.
"And," she continued in her sternist tone, "When a person is crept up on and then the turn to discover someone breathing down their neck then they can surely be forgiven for being a little too close."
"I don't remember it like that," he said huskily, leaning back in towards her again.
"Then you've misremembered," she said with a nod of conviction, straightening herself and smoothing her skirt with her free hand.
Undeterred and leaning in closer, he murmured in her ear, "Have I now? I've misremembered how close you were? Near enough to 'accidentally' touch me in an intimate place, mutter an apology but not step back?" He paused to let his words sink in. "Well, perhaps my memory of what happened next is a false one as well," he breathed. "Your hand tantalising close, fingers brushing against my thigh."
"That's not what happened," her head turned, their lips almost touching, their breath hot against one another.
"Isn't it?" he countered, letting his own hand brush her knee. "So, you didn't lower your head and flash those wide eyes back at me? Or part your lips in such a way that they begged to be kissed? Or mumble something Gaelic under your breath, drawing me in?
"You can't remember all that," she whispered, entirely caught up in his words.
"Oh, but I do, Mrs Hughes," he said darkly, "It was one of the most erotic moments of my life. I have commited it to memory so I can replay it again and again whenever you are out of my reach."
And with that he kissed her, slowly with a delicate intensity that would have scared her if it wasn't so sublime. The way he cherished her lips, his broad hands moving to hold her close, wonderfully ensnaring her in an embrace she never wanted to escape from. She was so caught up in the feel of him that she didn't remember to move her hands from her lap to reciprocate, instead continued to clutch her book as she let herself be absolutely and resolutely worshipped. She felt herself slipping sideways, the back of her head hitting the hard arm of the settee as he pressed into her, the weight of him sinking her deeper and deeper into the patterned cushions. At last her hands reacted and reached up to grab at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, clinging desperately so he didn't move, couldn't move, away from her. The moan on her lips had him shifting above her, trying to settle himself between her legs.
"Charlie?" she whispered from under his kisses, "Not here, it's too small."
He growled in frustration and lifted his head, his eyes heavy with want and desire. She gasped as half pulled, half rolled her off the settee, both laughing as they tumbled and bumped their way to the floor before finding one another again. Their eyes locked and for a moment there was nothing but the ticking of the hall clock before he launched at her and the last thing she remembered thinking how glad she was that she'd shut the curtains.
"What made you think of that?" he asked later.
She didn't answer, just sighed happily as she snuggled up against him under the warmth of their bed covers. Their love making had been tender. Nothing spectacular, just simple and heartfelt. It was early but Elsie thought she could quite easily slip into a deep sleep, safe in her husband's arms.
"Mmm?" she murmured.
"Before?" he tried again. "You obviously had something on your mind."
"Oh, I don't know," she replied sleepily, a curl of a smile on her lips as she relaxed, "Nothing particularly."
"I see," he remarked, stroking her arm gently as it rested over him. "Nothing to do with Mrs Patmore then?"
Her eyes opened sharply, her head jerking up in surprise. She made it as if to speak but when no words materialised he continued.
"Only I had a visitor today seeking my advice. It seems that Mr Mason and - "
Her quiet laugh cut him off. "That's how the hen house magically appeared from nowhere," she said with amusement. "I wondered how you'd pulled that off."
"Yes, well," he grimaced, fighting the urge to be offended. "That's beside the point. But he did share something of interest with me..."
He tailed off as Elsie tipped her head back and placed a finger delicately on his lips, shhhing him to be quiet.
"Let's not talk about those two in bed, Charlie. I'm sure you're right but let's just enjoy being here, just the two of us."
He grunted his reluctance but twisted his arm, reaching to turn off the light. As she snuggled up against him once more, kissing his cheek good night, he settled down into the pillows, thoughts of their wonderful encounters sending him into a peaceful sleep.
I've felt tortured by these last two chapters, and we're not yet done with the tryst between a certain cook and farmer yet… As ever, thank you for all the lovely reviews. It turns out a second story about these two is more stressful to write than the first. Arrggghhh!
