Author's note: The previous chapter came to my mind when I was doing all that research and a boring timetable for the trip around cornwall. At first there were too many places I'd like to show them so I had to reduce it a bit and from time to time remind me of the short december days. But my mind had already arrived in St. Ives. So, being relieved, they can get to the restaurant... sometime...
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Thomas had put some comfy clothes on and knelt before the fireplace to light it.
His thoughts wandered back to when he had been hit in the face that what he felt for Barbara was more than just friendship and when he had wiped away all concerns and told her that he loves her – out of the blue for both.
The following kiss showed him that Barbara felt the same or at least something alike. But now, after those three days in Cornwall he was sure that it was mutual. He felt a stirring in his stomach rethinking of how intense everything had been. It hadn't just been the ease of handling, which he really appreciated, it was also the lovemaking. He carefully touched the claw marks on his biceps. Never would he have thought of Barbara as such a passionate woman. In his mind's eye he saw that surrendered, lustful face again, the back of her head leaning against the door.
"Ouch!"
Deep in thought he accidentally had burnt his fingertips with the match and so he lit a second one.
I've also burnt my heart. he thought and remembered Barbara when she woke up in his bed on Christmas Day after they made love for the first time.
Her red hair had laid messed up on the pillow and her skin had felt so wonderfully soft and still so unacquaintedly new to him, and when she had turned to him on that morning she had favoured him unintentionally with such a seducing sleepy look.
He will never forget that moment. Right then he had felt so complete. Looking in her green eyes he knew that this was the woman to wear the little emerald. It had been when he once had cleaned up his flat after Helen had died when he decided to put it in a setting. Overthinking it, it had been probably Barbara's in that hard times permanently present green eyes that made him remember the little gem then.
He chuckled. Was I blind? he asked himself. She had always been around him for such a long while now, professional as his DS, personal as his best friend. He started to wonder how long it had been that she was keeping that adoration as a secret. This abundance of passion she displayed now, it can't be built in – what, ten days? And she so cutely blushes all the time.
He felt his lower regions stirring again and suddenly another thought struck him. He never thought about prevention.
We'll have to talk.
When Barbara came back, now dressed in her woolen jumper, she found Thomas kneeling in front of the fireplace. She stopped and had a look at him. He was wearing some sweatpants, tight on his delicate bum and a T-shirt that revealed not only his biceps – when did he start to work out? – but also the red traces on his upper arms.
Barbara blushed.
When did I become that ...active? she thought.
She leant against a wooden pillar in the middle of the room and studied him handling with the fire. It was only ten days ago when Thomas stepped across their self-imposed border, their thin line, ignoring all differences and difficulties there were and had yet to come. They had worked through the following days quite good without raising any suspicion at the office. Barbara had accepted his invitation to Howenstow and on December 24 they had arrived there. Barbara had felt that she really had been welcomed by the family and immediately had been integrated. And finally very late on Christmas' Eve the day passionately ended in his bed.
And she realised that she was everything but passive. Not only when it went under the sheets – that is to say onto the sheets at first - but after their first night their usual bantering had somehow turned into a very flirtatious one, teasing and tender.
And she had started to search for physical contact.
Or is he regarding it as strictly sexual? No.
Before the thought of it really formed in her mind she touched the little green gem around her neck. Now, that had been not a crossed border but some gesture far beyond every expectation, far beyond every dream. It was a bond he formed that Barbara in truth was afraid of.
Sure, for a long time now - she had forgotten when it had first started or when the realisation had hit her - she had had a crush on her DI. She somehow had arranged herself with it, knowing that it would always be a single-sided thing. She had kept it in her dreams, had sometimes drowned it in her bathtub and had forbidden herself to let anyone know or suspect what her feelings were. Not even Winston, Mr. Poke-in-every-secret, had the slightest idea. She had turned into a professional modus and even displayed more sarcasm and irony. Maybe this was why she hadn't seen it coming. Without previous signs visible for her Thomas had declared his love.
Or did I just ignore them? she wondered.
Barbara smiled. He had become so very different afterwards. Even in her romantic dreams she had never seen him being so cute, so like a teenager in love and at the same time like a very grown man - lustful, feverish, longing, panting for her, self-giving. She blushed deeper, feeling the tickling in her abdomen again.
How will that go on when we're at the Met? Barbara wondered. Reality will strike back.
She sighed.
She hadn't realised that in the meantime Thomas had fully lit the fire, turned and watched her.
"Barbara?"
She startled.
"Isn't your sweet ass getting cold?" Thomas chuckled and stood up.
Barbara glew deep red and rummaged her bag. She still had no briefs on.
With a playful smack on her naked bottom he went past her and grabbed a bottle from the table.
"Look what we have as a welcome gift – a fine Champagne." he said. "But the note here says this isn't the surprise. Well, let's go 'round, we might find it somewhere."
Thomas had been in the cottage two or three times before, so he knew where the rooms were and he showed Barbara round. On the ground floor there was the little loo, a kitchenette with dining nook and the living room, both open-plan and just seperated by wooden pillars. In the finished attic he knew of a bedroom with en-suite shower and toilet. They didn't go there because they would just live in the master bedroom on the first floor.
"I remember it to be smaller..." Thomas wondered. "And there was a second room. Must be the surprise - he had refurbished the cottage."
The master bedroom now was a huge room with a thick carpet, an enormous wardrobe made of dark wood, a small dressing table and a big solid four-poster bed with matching bedside tables. And there was much space around. They threw their bags onto the floor and Thomas put the bottle of Champagne onto the dressing table.
"I have a great idea..." he grinned.
"No, no, no!" Barbara stepped away from him. "You show me the cottage, we dress and then you take me to dinner. I'm starvin'!" Then she blushed. "'n' by the way, we've recently... we've just... I've not yet fully recovered, Thomas!"
"So I have to take the advantage!" he took a step forward.
Followed by him Barbara fled across the little corridor and into the bathroom. There she stopped amazed. She didn't expect another huge room. Neither did Thomas. He couldn't remember that there was this huge shower cubicle. Also this oversized ball-and-claw bath was new to him.
"Well, this is a real surprise."
He spotted two champagne glasses with a note saying
Surprise, surprise...
Have a nice stay and feel free to use the tub!
*wink*wink*
Nathan, on behalf of Amor
"Oh, that naughty little beggar!" Thomas laughed. "With his children grown up he had turned this cottage into a little love nest. Oh, I'm so looking forward to the next two... four... eighty... a thousand and sixty days here!"
He pulled Barbara into his arms and kissed her.
"But yes," he sighed. "we'll have to eat first."
They put their clothes into that enormous wardrobe and their toiletteries where they belonged.
Barbara stood in front of the wardrobe and was wondering aloud what she had to wear.
"Nothing." Thomas chuckled.
She turned, put her hands on her hips and glared at Thomas.
"Alright. Should I wear sweatpants..."
"If you wish..."
"...or should I dress up for the Savoy?!"
"If you wish..." Thomas laughed.
"Or should I slap you with my slippers?!" Barbara glared at him.
"Rrrrr...!" Thomas draped himself onto the bed, still grinning.
"You silly men, you just have to think about what tie to wear!" Barbara rolled her eyes. "...'nough to drive me to despair. Now, where do we go to? Fish'n'chip-shop?"
"No, surely not! But Barbara, we're just going for dinner. Nobody will care for what you're wearing. Well, except me... Your jeans and a not-so-casual top will do. It's the Kernow I've made a reservation for..." he looked on his watch and jumped up.
"Seven thirty. Alright, we're in a hurry."
They quickly took a shower and got themselves dressed, both in jeans and a not-so-casual top.
"Oh, luckily the rain stopped." They hurried down the Wharf Road up to the West Pier and had just a short delay.
.
...