Back to the Farm Ch. 04

"What?" he murmured, his eyes remaining closed. "I'm not doing anything. Oh, hell..." He swore then opened one eye. "You're not going to try to pretend that you don't remember getting into bed with me?"

"I didn't! You got into bed withme." Noticing that the top two of the buttons of her shirt were undone--hadhe unfastened them?--she yanked at one of the blankets and hastily pulled it up to her chest.

"Glad we've got that straight." He frowned, rolling on to his back then yawned hugely. "What's--all--the shouting about then?"

"You! Taking advantage, getting all--" Melissa stopped, her face flooding with heat as she realised that given he hadn't actually noticed his condition yet, it might be rather less embarrassing to abandon her attack before he did. "Never mind. I'll go and make some tea."

"What?" As she scrambled off the mattress, he sat up, winced then shot her a rueful grin. "Ah."

"Forget I said anything," she gabbled, wrapping the blanket tightly around her shoulders and limping from the room.

His laughter was ringing in her ears by the time she arrived in the kitchen. She reached for the saucepan and filled it with water, only remembering then that the matches were still on the coffee table. "Damn!" Drawing a deep breath, she turned and stepped straight into Matt. Thankfully, he'd re-donned his trousers.

"Looking for these?" Grinning, he rattled the matchbox then nudged her arm. "Hey, if I offended you, then I'm sorry." He held out his hands, palms upward in a defensive gesture. "But I woke up with a beautiful woman in my arms. I'm only human, Lissy. I couldn't help my--er--reaction."

Beautiful? He couldn't mean that, she reasoned. He was just trying to sweet talk his way out of this one. "You'll be telling me next I should take it as a compliment." She slapped the saucepan on the stove. "Tell you what--why don'tyou make the tea? I need to find some half decent clothes to wear."

She left him standing in the kitchen with his mouth wide open and hobbled across to the bathroom. Please Lord, let my dress be dry, she prayed, opening the door.

And miraculously, it was. Perhaps just a little damp at the hem and somewhat crumpled, but Melissa decided that her body heat would soon rectify that. Now that it was light, she felt way too exposed in Charlie's overlarge shirt. Her bra was dry too, thank heavens. Remembering to lock the door this time, she stripped off the shirt and splashed as much cold water on her face and upper body as she could bear without screaming, then dressed quickly.

She tried not to think about sleeping in Matt's arms, tried hard not to think about how pleasurable it had been to wake up with his hand sensuously cupping her breast--and then realised she couldn't help thinking about it. But, she scolded herself hastily, Matt had made it quite clear he wasn't interested in her sexually last night and number two, and besides, she didn't want him to be, did she? Because if she did, she wouldn't have reacted the way she had, would she? She'd still be lying there, on the mattress, letting him touch her anywhere he damn well pleased...

Then she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her hair was a riot of copper curls, her face pale, making her blue eyes seem huge and accentuating the faint circles around them. Matt's usual type of woman would never look so unkempt in the morning, she thought bitterly. Oh no.Her shiny blonde hair would be lightly mussed,her skin would look clear and healthy in the absence of make-up. Melissa longed for some concealer and mascara and vowed she would never again leave home without them. With a sigh, she raked her fingers through her hair in an almost futile attempt to restore order, dumped Charlie's shirt in the bath with the damp towels from yesterday and turned to open the door.

"Hey." Matt was standing outside with a mug of tea in one hand and Gemma's sandals dangling from the other.

"Oh," she said in surprise as he handed her the shoes. "You--you found them."

He smiled. "That pothole you fell into was enormous. It's a wonder you didn't break your ankle." He held out the shoes and she took them. "Luckily they weren't actually in the puddle. They cleaned up quite well, I think. Unfortunately, the same can't be said of your cardigan. I put it in the washing up bowl to soak but I'm not sure you'll be able to save it."

"Thank you." Touched that he'd already ventured outside to retrieve them, she stared at the sandals then remembered his shirt and reached back to unhook it from the clothesline. "Here. It's almost dry, though it's a bit creased, I'm afraid."

"It looks great, thank you." He took the shirt from her then handed her the tea. To her amazement, he began to unbutton the shirt he was wearing. Melissa's mouth went dry as more and more of his firm chest was exposed then his abdomen. Oh, she'd felt the musculature beneath the cotton, but the sight of the lightly bronzed rippling flesh made heat flash to parts of her that had only previously felt hot when reading the steamy parts of romantic novels.

"What time is it?" she said, her voice unsteady as she dropped her gaze. She turned away on the pretext of taking a few gulps of tea.

"It's nine fifteen. So don't worry, you'll be rescued by the vicar in exactly forty-five minutes. Less if he's early." There was a pause. "Er--Lissy--do you mind?"

She looked up to see him motion past her into the bathroom and realised she was blocking the doorway. "Oh--yes, of course," she said hastily, stepping out of the way.

Seeing the blush on her cheeks, Matt repressed a smile as he closed the door. It certainly wasn't the first time a woman had responded that way on sighting his body. But Lissy's almost childlike innocence was refreshing. He couldn't ever remember a woman scooting out of his bed at top speed because she'd felt his erection--quite the opposite in fact. And the way she'd delicately removed his hand from her breast... Oh no, he hadn't been asleep. Just playing with fire.

"What the hell are you doing?" he muttered, grimacing at his reflection in the mirror above the sink. "What kind of low-life are you?"

Was it just that it had been a while since he'd had a woman in his arms, he mused, stroking the stubble on his chin? Could it be that simple? Or was his infatuation for Lissy Barton as strong as ever, even after all these years? Last night, when he'd kissed her, he'd felt such a surge of desire he'd wanted to make love to her right there in the kitchen. Though when he'd pulled himself to his senses and broken the kiss, he could've sworn he'd seen a reciprocal flash ofsomething in her eyes.

With a sigh, he pushed the plug in the sink and twisted on the cold tap. What he'd seen was probably disgust, he reprimanded himself. And even if it hadn't been disgust, exactly, Lissy deserved better than him. Love. Marriage. Children. Security. He couldn't--wouldn't--offer any of those things. Shaking his head, he cupped water in his hands and braced himself for an icy wake up call.

When he emerged several minutes later, washed and fully dressed, he found Melissa surveying the mess in the second bedroom, the room into which she'd made her spectacular dive the previous evening. "How on earth are we going to sort everything out? Where do we start?" she said as he reached her side. "There's just so much."

"Hey, come on." Taking a look at her stricken expression Matt instinctively wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "It's not that bad."

She gave a snort, wriggling away from him. "Really? Let me take you on the guided tour and then see if you still think it's not that bad."

Matt had no choice but to follow as she led him along the hallway, visiting each room in turn. And very soon, he had to concede she had a point. All three bedrooms and the dining room were crammed with boxes and furniture, all cupboards full to overflowing. Books, papers, clothes and shoes were wedged into every available space and drawers were filled with broken hand tools, screws, nails, pens and pencils, coins and tins.

"Why?" Melissa breathed at last after she'd forced open the wardrobe door in the third bedroom only to discover a mountain of empty ice cream containers. "Why did Charlie keep all this stuff? Did he have some kind of obsessive compulsive disorder?"

Matt gave a wry smile. "Maybe." He leaned across and tugged at the other wardrobe door. "Oh look. My old Wellington boots."

"This is ridiculous." She bit her lip. "Admit it, Matt. This is going to take weeks to sort out."

Matt had to admit he'd been thinking the same thing. "Well, it'll certainly need a concerted effort." He gave her a sidelong glance. "Is there any chance you could get some time off and stay here for a week? Before I go back to Singapore in June?"

Startled, she turned to look at him. "I s'pose I could. I'm owed quite a lot of leave, actually."

"Good." This time his smile was complete, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. Melissa felt an odd fluttering in her stomach. Gemma was right. He really was extraordinarily good-looking--and that thousand watt smile was just for her. "Let me know when and I'll take the same week. I'll get that skip organised and we'll clear everything out, one room at a time."

"You--you'll stay here with me?" Her stomach gave another sudden lurch. A week. One whole week with Matt...

"Of course. You didn't think I'd leave you to do it all on your own?" He leaned forward and picked up the green Wellington boots. "Here," he said, thrusting them into her hand before striding towards the hall. "Put them on. We'd better take a look outside as well."

Her head still reeling at the thought of being alone with Matt for a whole week, she wriggled her feet into the boots and plodded after him through the front door to find him staring at the potholed tarmac.

"I can't believe Charlie didn't have this patched up."

Melissa guessed he was thinking about his paralysed car stuck half a mile down the driveway. "Maybe he couldn't afford to. He didn't say much about it, but he gave me the impression things were a bit tight."

Matt breathed another heavy sigh. "He only needed to ask. Or call Jason. I'm pretty sure Jason would've sorted something out for free."

She recoiled at the mention of her nemesis. "Too much pride maybe."

He glanced at her with a frown. "I know you don't think much of Jason but Charlie had a real soft spot for him. And Jason felt the same way about Charlie."

Melissa swallowed. "Yeah, well, Charlie was the father we all wanted, right?" She turned away to hide her face. During her early teens she'd nurtured a secret fantasy that Charliewas her father. Her mother had never revealed the name of the man who'd got her pregnant at seventeen, despite Melissa's many attempts to discern the information. But it was a ridiculous fantasy. Charlie would never have been unfaithful to his beloved Suzie.

"Speaking of Jason, there's something I need to talk to you about."

Melissa jerked her head back up. "I beg your pardon?"

Matt looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Look, we should've talked about it last night--well--I started to but then you nearly fainted and--" he gave a shrug "--other stuff got in the way--"

"What?" she interrupted, feeling rather uneasy herself now. "Just get to the point."

Sighing, he spread out both arms, vaguely gesturing at the bungalow and the surrounding fields. "This place. We need to make a few decisions."

"What on earth does that have to do with Jason?" She frowned at him, puzzled. "I--I just assumed we were going to clear everything out and--sell up." Those words sounded so final, she thought unhappily. She could hardly bring herself to think about there being new occupants of Beech Tree Farm.

"Right." He hesitated. "It's just--er--it may not bequite that straightforward..."

*

Well, of course it won't be. There'd be no story otherwise!

Thanks as ever for reading me. All comments, votes are gratefully received

Lily -x-