Driftwood Deeds(27)

There was a pause in his movement, barely noticeable. Then he shook his head.

“There’s no need to rush,” his smile was back in place, pleasant and intelligent and all those things that had charmed me the day before and that I still was far from impervious to. “We have all day.”

Dragging my fork over the plate, I painted little spikes into the peach sauce.

“It’s fine, it’s a long way back and I have work tomorrow.”

I couldn’t look at him but when he covered my hand with his, I had to fight to keep my eyes on my plate. He was warm and still calloused but that never seemed to stop him from being perfectly tender and soft when he wanted to be.

“I was thinking... we might take another walk outside. There’s a beautiful quiet beach, nobody ever goes there—“ I stopped him when I looked up. I don’t know what he read in my eyes but I could see him almost physically recoil. That hurt, too.

“And I’d leave on the late train?”

“Sure. I mean, we had fun yesterday, didn’t we? Why not make the most of it?”

I pulled my hand away, and my face curved into the same sweet, polite distance that he had mastered. I hated smiling like this and quickly dropped my gaze back towards the pancakes.

“I don’t know, Paul. I think we shouldn’t—” I didn’t know what to say but Paul was already on his feet, all smiles and unthreatening gestures.

“How about this, I’ll grab a shower while you finish your breakfast like a good girl and then we’ll talk about this. How does that sound?”

I nodded, smiled and demonstratively ladled a forkful of pancake into my mouth. His smile made me want to cry and I held my breath until he’d left the room. It took a while until I heard the water jump into life, rattling some pipes before it gushed out and over his naked body. I felt drawn to that room, so much that there was a moment where I almost opened the door to get to him, to touch him, kiss the drops of his skin.

But I didn’t. I found my messenger bag. The laptop was still in there but he had also replaced the tape recorder and there was a small plastic bag. I shouldn’t have but I opened it and with the scent of last night’s panties, memories shot like lightning through my body.

I slid into my shoes and tore a page out of a notepad. I wrote with shaking fingers.