January 2015
‘You can NOT be serious?’ Mallory Westerman recoiled. She didn’t make a habit of quoting 1980s sports stars, so imagine her surprise as she heard John McEnroe’s words fall from her own lips.
Thankfully, her fiancé – whilst obviously bemused at her reaction – didn’t appear to notice the similarities between her and the wiry-haired tennis supremo. He was far too busy stroking the printout on the table in front of him, as if ironing out the creases would make his proposal more viable.
‘But… honey, imagine the life we could have there right now,’ he pleaded. ‘The open spaces, the fresh air—’
‘The midge bites, the lack of internet connection, no other civilisation for miles,’ she rudely interrupted, immediately feeling a twinge of guilt when Sam’s eyes took on the appearance of a scolded puppy dog. She slid her arms around his neck, caressing the sides of his beautiful face. ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart. Don’t get me wrong, I love the place, but I just don’t see me… well, either of us, really, taking to a permanent life out in the middle of nowhere at this point in our lives, surrounded by sheep and wearing wellies and tweeds!’
‘Now you’re being totally stereotypical and insulting to all things countryside, Mallory,’ Sam chastised in his Canadian drawl. ‘And besides, I think you’d look great in wellies… just wellies that is, nothing else.’ He grabbed her playfully and squeezed her. His green eyes flashed with a mischievousness Mallory had come to adore.
She giggled and gazed up into his emerald green eyes, lovingly recalling the first time she had found herself utterly mesmerised by him.
*
December 2012
Mallory had lived in Yorkshire all the twenty-seven years of her life. After the death of her parents she had moved in with her dad’s sister – Aunt Sylvia – who didn’t believe in holidays abroad and so Yorkshire and its familiar landscape became her safe haven.
After dropping out of her PR course at uni, Mallory endured a run of soulless jobs with nothing ever really pushing her buttons. That was until her guardian passed away and left her a large sum of money, giving her the opportunity to do the one thing she truly wanted to do but thought would never be possible.
Her little gift emporium, Le Petit Cadeau, had been the brainchild of her aunt many years before. It had occurred when Mallory had taken to making her own Christmas gifts as unemployment had occurred on the brink of the festive season.
At the will reading Mallory had sobbed when the solicitor informed her that her aunt had left strict instructions that the inheritance was intended for her to ‘get off her backside and do something fulfilling for once!’ She remembered almost laughing aloud at the point when the solicitor had uttered the quote directly as her aunt had written it. Even in death, feisty Sylvia knew how to draw a chuckle from her beloved niece.
Now, years on from that fateful day, Le Petit Cadeau was thriving and she was thankful for her aunt’s insistence. It was a fairly quiet early December Wednesday in Leeds, and the city centre was the usual bustling metropolis. However, the Victoria Quarter – where Mallory’s shop was located – was being given a somewhat brief reprieve from the usual barrage of festive shoppers. Sitting in her usual place by the window, she huffed as she watched a swooning couple canoodling whilst browsing the display of lingerie in the boutique opposite.
She slapped her hands on her thighs and turned to one of the stuffed bears on the shelf beside her. ‘Sod this for a game of soldiers, Mr Fluffs. I think I need a break.’ Obviously, the pensive-looking, handmade bear proffered no reply, yet she continued, ‘Yep. I reckon there’s a tall, caramel macchiato with my name on it somewhere.’
Grabbing her oversized bag, she chalked Back in 20 mins on her door sign, dropped the latch and headed out into the sea of suited business people and Christmas shoppers.
As she walked, she smiled to herself, noting the vast number of preschool children who were sporting cheap red Santa hats. Gifts lovingly procured for them, she guessed, by harassed parents as bribery for good behaviour.
The paved precinct area was buzzing. Mallory loved Leeds City Centre with its designer boutiques and quirky shops. At this time of year, however, there was something transcendent about the atmosphere. Maybe it was the twinkling lights strung from building to building or the way that each and every shop was decked in sparkling silvers and gregarious golds. The myriad Christmas songs, being played in numerous outlets all out of synch with one another, were an assault on the senses. The stalls laid out, down the centre of the precinct, were vying for the attention of passers-by with their brightly coloured gifts and trinkets. A delicious aroma of roast chestnuts wafted through the chilled air and into Mallory’s nostrils making her tummy grumble.
She rounded the corner heading for her favourite coffee shop when suddenly she involuntarily lurched forward. The stiletto heel of her inappropriate-for-winter shoe had become lodged in between two paving slabs, sending her and her belongings hurtling into the arms of a passing stranger.
‘Whoaaaa there!’ The startled man grabbed for Mallory, in a bid to stop her inevitable collision with the pavement. ‘We haven’t been formally introduced and yet here you are throwing yourself at me!’ He laughed. She noted his distinct American accent which she instantly found adorable.
Rather dazed, heart pounding and feeling more than a little bit embarrassed, Mallory slowly lifted her gaze to look at the knight in shining armour, whose strong, muscular arms had come to her rescue. She was met with vivid green, laughing eyes and a very, very handsome countenance. Suddenly the weight of what had just happened hit her like a stack of tumbling gift boxes and she realised she was holding on for dear life and staring, just staring at this poor bewildered guy.
She quickly came to her senses. ‘I-I’m so sorry, how clumsy of me. My… my shoe got… erm… oh no, it’s still bloody stuck!’ she stammered, almost falling into the tall stranger a second time, as she fought with the shoe, which was determined to stay bloody well put, thank you very much. Perfect!
‘Here let me help you.’ The man aided Mallory into an upright position and then crouched in front of her. ‘Hold onto my shoulder and take your foot out of your shoe.’
Mallory silently obeyed her strikingly handsome saviour. She felt the flushing of her face, which was surely glowing like a Belisha beacon. Passers-by smirked in her direction, further increasing the heat in her cheeks.
Feeling utterly ridiculous, she began to giggle. ‘I think maybe wellies would have been a better choice. Silly me.’
The man twisted at the shoe until the heel finally came free from the crevice holding it prisoner – Mallory couldn’t help but think it was rather like the legend of King Arthur freeing Excalibur. He looked up and offered her the return of her shoe, whilst still on bended knee and she sighed as she reached out for it. This time the fairy tale of Cinderella sprang to mind.
Oh, if only I knew you and this was a diamond ring and I was in the midst of the most romantic proposal ever… She shook her head to dislodge the crazy, mental intrusion, snatched the shoe and shoved it back on her foot. Good grief, I’ve been single far too long!
‘Thank you so much for helping me, I feel like such a muppet.’
He stood and waved a dismissive hand. ‘Don’t mention it. It happens to us all. But only usually on a weekend for me.’ Then, with a fake and over-exaggerated glance around for earwiggers, he leaned in close to whisper. ‘My high heels are seriously frowned upon at work, and let’s not even mention the stockings.’ He chuckled, his emerald eyes sparkling.
Smiling and really hoping that his last sentence was in no way a true reflection on his life, Mallory tilted her head at the stranger in an enquiring manner. ‘You’re not from here,’ she mumbled. Ugh way to state the obvious, idiot.
A wide grin spread across his gorgeous face and he wagged his finger. ‘You know… I knew there must be a reason why people keep on looking at me funny when I speak.’ He paused and held out his hand. ‘I’m Sam, by the way. Samuel Buchanan, in case you wanted to know my full name. You know, for when you report my dashing act of valour to the Yorkshire Evening Post.’
His emphasis on ‘shire’ made her smile. ‘Nice to meet you, Sam. I’m Mallory Westerman.’ She shook his hand. ‘And we locals pronounce it Yorksher, as opposed to Yorkshyre.’
‘Well thank you very much for the insider info.’ He laughed. ‘So Miss Mallory Yorksherrr,’ he joked, rolling his ‘R’, ‘Mallory is quite an unusual name, huh?’
‘Hmm, that’s what you get for having quirky parents, I suppose.’ She rolled her eyes once she realised this comment needed further explanation. ‘My dad was an avid mountaineer in his youth and his hero was George Leigh Mallory.’ Sam look nonplussed and so she continued, ‘He was a famous mountaineer who was killed attempting to climb Everest in the 1920s.’
He nodded. ‘Ah, I see. I guess your dad wouldn’t have been so impressed with your attempts to navigate Leeds city centre today, huh?’ He grinned, teasing her for her silly mistake. ‘So, where were you off to before throwing yourself into the arms of a complete Canadian stranger?’ He grinned.
‘Oh, Canadian, eh? I just thought you were from America.’
Sam winced and shook his head in mock disgust. ‘Youch! Hold your tongue there, Miss Yorksher, a proud Canadian could get highly insulted, you know – next you’ll be saying we all sound alike.’
She cringed. ‘Whoops. Sorry.’ Well, actually you do all sound alike to me. ‘I was on my way for coffee, just up there.’ She pointed up the paved precinct, towards her favourite coffee shop. ‘I’m taking a break whilst things are quiet in my shop.’
‘Oddly enough, I was going to go for coffee too.’ He paused, looking thoughtful, almost hesitant, as if he wondered whether he should say what he was thinking. ‘Soooo, how about you buy me a latte, by way of a thank you for saving your ass?’ He winked.
Her jaw dropped in mock surprise at his forward manner, although secretly she quite liked it.
Smiling and rolling her eyes, she held out her hand as if to gesture ‘after you’ and he began walking in the direction she indicated.
Sam and Mallory sat in the coffee shop for a lot longer than her door sign had denoted. They found lots to talk about in their hour and a half conversation. Mallory discovered that Sam was thirty-one and was over in England following his brother’s request for him to take the reins at the UK arm of his asset management business.
‘I’m renting an apartment in what I believe is some kind of converted warehouse,’ he told her with a bemused, questioning look. ‘Seems to be the in thing in Leeds.’
‘Yes, there are a lot of run-down old industrial buildings around here. I think someone saw a bit of a niche in the property market.’
‘Yeah, I think so… the rooms are very spacious.’ He smiled cheekily. ‘And I have a great view from my bedroom.’
Mallory blushed and cleared her throat, ‘So, where in Canada are you from?’
‘A town called Kingston, in Ontario. I grew up on the outskirts of the town. My dad was in construction and he built the family home. His father was a builder too, so I think he just fell into the industry. He was good at it.’
‘Was good at it? Is he retired now?’ Mallory sipped her coffee.
Sadness clouded his features. ‘Ahhh, no, sadly he passed away two years ago of a heart attack.’
‘Oh… gosh I’m so sorry… I-I didn’t mean to pry.’
‘No, no, please, it’s fine. My mom’s amazing. She won’t allow us to be sad. She says we should always remember the good stuff and so we do.’ He looked pensive, ‘I think she tries to protect us both. Even though we’re adults.’
‘Hmm, I lost my parents when I was a teenager so I totally understand.’
Sam frowned sadly. ‘Wow that must’ve been hard on you. I’m so sorry.’
She shrugged. ‘It was. But my Aunt Sylvia was amazing. I moved in with her and she was wonderful to me. So, is your brother still in Canada?’
‘Yeah, he just got married and his wife wasn’t ready to move all the way out here… so… here I am.’
‘Mmm, here you are…’ Mallory said with a little gravel to her voice, making her blush again. He had a strange effect on her.
She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at him from under her eyelashes. He smiled, knowingly, as he sipped his coffee.
Mallory surveyed his well-groomed, clean-cut, suited appearance which was in total contrast with his unruly, windswept mop of shaggy, brown hair. A hazard of the Yorkshire winter weather, she mused. She could tell that he was quite toned and muscular, simply by the hang of his suit. She already knew from earlier that he had strong arms and as he talked she imagined those arms encircling her. She fought to hide the shiver that travelled through her as she began to picture him naked.
‘So, tell me about you.’ He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap.
‘What do you want to know?’ she asked shyly, pushing her glasses up her nose.
‘Everything… where you grew up… where you live… your friends… the whole nine yards.’
Mallory took a deep breath. ‘Well… I’m twenty-seven, I live a short drive away from Leeds in a little railway cottage. I have a little Patterdale terrier called Ruby… she usually comes to work with me, but Josie, that’s my best friend, has taken her today. She “borrows” her sometimes.’ She smiled at how silly that must have sounded. ‘I’ve always lived here in Yorkshire. I’ve never lived abroad or been to Canada. I’ve been to Spain a few times with my mum and dad…’ She trailed off, realising she was waffling a little.
‘So, what about your shop? What do you sell?’ Sam enquired.
‘Local crafts mainly. Gifts and cards, things like that. I make little hanging signs and sell those in the shop too. My Aunt Sylvia insisted I open it. She left me the money to set up when she died, bless her.’
‘Sounds like an amazing woman.’ Sam offered.
‘Hmm, she was. Very opinionated and sometimes irritating as hell but lovely all the same.’
She continued to tell him enthusiastically about her shop and the different crafts people she had met and all the while his gaze remained fixed on her as she talked. Every so often, when she made eye contact with him, her heart fluttered with the excitement of what may lie ahead for her with this incredibly handsome, funny man.
*
Sam smiled and listened intently. He found her quite beautiful. Her long wavy hair fell in chocolate tendrils around her shoulders, where it had escaped the grasp of the claw pinning the rest of it in a loose pile atop her head.
He discretely ran his eyes over her body. Her curves were accentuated by the fitted skirt and top she wore, giving her a timeless Marilyn Monroe-esque appearance. Every so often she would push her spectacles up her nose, even when there was no need to do so. He thought that was really cute. Her bright blue eyes sparkled and he couldn’t help but smile at the way she waved her arms around as she spoke; so expressive. She was clearly a nervous talker and he felt the urge to stop her mouth with his. Not because she was boring; no she was anything but boring. He just wanted to kiss her. It took all the will he had not to just do it.
*
At the end of their conversation they stood outside the window of the coffee shop in the chilled December early afternoon. Mallory felt sure she had bamboozled him with her non-stop jabbering and her life history. Good job, he’s way out of my league really, she thought to herself. At least I won’t see him again to remind him what a clumsy, chatterbox I am. Hmm, there was that low self-esteem rearing its ugly head again. She had always felt herself unattractive and had pretty much given up on the yo-yo dieting. After all, she was single and busy with Le Petit Cadeau, so it didn’t really matter that she had crept up three dress sizes since her youth.
Expecting this to be the start and end of a beautiful friendship, she held out her hand. ‘It was very nice to meet you, Sam with the Canadian accent.’ She smiled. ‘Thank you for rescuing my face from a date with a concrete pavement.’
‘You’re very welcome.’ He let out a long breath, but didn’t move. He wasn’t making a run for it. ‘It would’ve been such a shame to spoil such a pretty face with a bashed-up nose and cracked teeth.’
Mallory chuckled as she saw him outwardly cringe as the words escaped his shapely lips. ‘Thank you… I think. Well, better get on. Bye then.’
‘Wait. Why do you sound as if I’ll never see you again?’ He looked sad. ‘Is that it? Is this the end? How could you? After all I’ve done for you?’ He held his knuckles to his teeth and bit down in mock, melodramatic actor mode. The back of his other hand pressed to his forehead.
This guy was funny. She found herself allowing a small hope to shine through, that this was not the end. Perhaps he did want to see her again.
*
Later that night she sat, snuggled up on the sofa with Ruby, watching a re-run of Friends. It was the one where Brad Pitt’s formerly overweight character, Will, is invited for Thanksgiving.
She was just munching through another carb-laden mouthful of cereal when the phone rang. Her heart leapt. Surely he wouldn’t be ringing so soon? She and the rather yummy Sam Buchanan had exchanged phone numbers at the end of their coffee shop chat and she had almost skipped back to the shop, avoiding all the cracks in the pavement this time around. Although secretly she thanked her ridiculous choice in footwear on that winter’s day, considering without it she may never have met Sam.
‘H-hello?’ she stammered hopefully, into the receiver.
‘Hi ya, chick! Are you okay? You sound a bit odd.’ Perceptive as ever, Josie, who had been her best friend since school, wasn’t known for beating around the bush. They had been friends through thick and thin. The thick being boyfriends, who Mallory regrettably discovered were either too self-absorbed or more interested with cars and staring at other women’s boobs. The thin, on the ground patches, where loneliness and reluctant celibacy seemed to be the way of life thrust upon her. Josie was her touchstone, her voice of reason and in addition to this she was Mallory’s one and only trusted employee, working slightly more than part time to give Mallory the opportunity to be creative. She was glad to have the opportunity to spill the beans on the potential new guy in her life.
‘Oooh Mally, he sounds dreamy.’ Josie swooned after Mallory had imparted every last detail she could remember – and there were many.
Josie had been with her boyfriend Brad since high school. They had been childhood sweethearts and neither had any intentions of ever being with anyone else. They hadn’t gotten around to the whole wedding thing yet but it would happen eventually, Mallory knew it. Still, Josie admitted that she loved to live vicariously through her best friend any time a new man came on the scene - which, unfortunately for Mallory, hadn’t happened much at all in recent years.
‘Did you kiss him? Does he smell good? Is he well off?’ Josie barraged her friend with questions.
‘Good grief, Josie! Talk about the Spanish Inquisition.’ Suddenly the girls cried out in unison in their best Monty Python voices the oh-so famous line from the oh-so famous Python sketch.
There was a pause and the whirring of their brains was almost audible.
‘Anyway,’ Mallory continued after they had stopped laughing hysterically. ‘I did notice he smelled rather gorgeous when I fell on him. Kind of fresh and Calvin Kleiny? And no, I didn’t kiss him. What do you take me for, woman?’
‘I take you for a gorgeous girl who hasn’t had sex in almost a year. That’s what. You deserve something good, Mally.’
‘Thank you, Josie, but you know I don’t just go about jumping into bed with random men who save me from smashing my two front teeth in.’ She giggled.
‘No, you just wait and wait only to find that the bloke you’ve been waiting for is more interested in his bloody vintage Mark II Ford Escort.’
Mallory cringed as Josie reminded her of her last disastrous relationship. ‘Don’t go there, Josie. I honestly thought Darren’s obsession with that canary yellow passionless wagon was endearing at first.’
‘Yes. Until you found out that he used to tuck it in every night.’ The two friends howled with laughter. ‘So, is he well off?’
‘Josie! Really, I don’t ask such questions. But I’m guessing he’s comfortable. His job sounds quite high-flying. Honestly though, you know I don’t care about that stuff. I just want someone who looks at me as though he could ravish me on the spot; someone who wants to make a life with me; someone who won’t mind that I’m not supermodel thin.’ Mallory sighed at that last thought.
‘Hey! What have I told you about that? Men prefer curves.’ Josie attempted to stomp on the negativity.
‘Yeah? Shame that none of them are prepared to admit that in public. Eh?’
‘So, do you think he’ll call you?’ Ah there we go; Josie had asked the dreaded, million-dollar question.
‘I really hope so. I had a really good feeling about him.’
‘In your knickers, I bet.’ Josie gave a coarse cackle, in true Josie style.
Mallory tutted and decided she was tired out. Giving a yawn, she mumbled, ‘And on that note, Josie Gardiner, I’m hanging up. Night night.’
‘Night night, you spoil sport. Love you squillions, babe.’
‘Love you too, you cackling banshee!’ The conversation came to its usual banter-filled end and Mallory was once again alone, save for the little black Patterdale terrier with staring brown eyes pawing at her for attention.
*
Mallory’s shop was crammed the next day. She was rushed off her feet and even had to call in Josie from her day off for assistance. Together they smiled, chatted, served customers and had the old-fashioned cash register making that fabulous kerching! noise over and over again. She had giddily checked her mobile several times throughout the day for signs of contact from Sam but when nothing materialised her excitement began to wane. Perhaps it had all been too good to be true.
When five o’clock finally came around, Mallory locked the door and heaved a huge sigh of relief.
‘Phew! Thank goodness it’s time for home.’ She slid down the door, landing with a bump on her bottom.
Josie smiled down at her friend, holding out her hand to pull her back up. ‘Come on you. Let’s get back to yours and have a bite to eat and then we’ll wander down to the Railwayman’s for a couple of pops.’ Josie widened her eyes suggestively. It sounded like a bloody good plan.
Mallory put the day’s takings in the money bag and fastened Ruby’s lead onto her bright rainbow-coloured collar. ‘You’ve loved today haven’t you, Rubes? All that attention.’ Ruby wagged her tail and pawed at Mallory’s skirt in agreement. Just then her mobile phone began to vibrate in her bag, rattling against her door keys. Her heart leapt as she rummaged around in the cavernous depths, frantically searching for the phone. Let it be him. Let it be him, she repeated silently in her mind.
Finally putting her hand on it, she swiped it up to her ear. ‘Hello?’ she gasped, feeling flustered.
‘Well, hello there, Miss Yorksher.’ A familiar voice kissed at her ear, making her shiver with excitement.
‘Oh, hi! Sam, right?’
‘Oh great, you’ve forgotten me already, huh?’ He sounded perturbed.
‘No-no! Not at all. I was just checking. You’d be surprised at how many Canadian men have been ringing me lately.’ She chuckled.
‘Ah well, I’m afraid I’m going to push to the front of the line. I wondered if you’d like to meet for a drink or a bite to eat later… I know it’s short notice.’
‘Ah, I was actually going out with my friend, Josie, tonight I’m afraid.’
On hearing her declining a date with the hot Canadian, Josie began to make throat slitting gestures and wave frantically in Mallory’s face.
She scrunched her nose in confusion, mouthing ‘What?’
Josie whispered loudly, ‘Just go on the bloody date, Mal, you moron. You can see me any time.’
Chuckling became audible from the other end of the phone. ‘Umm, I think you should take your friend’s advice, Mallory. She sounds like a very sensible girl.’
‘Oh, if only you knew the truth, Sam, if only.’ She sniggered as she saw Josie’s expression turn from horror to relief. ‘Okay, well, there’s a little pub near my home. It’s not flashy but they make a fab steak and kidney pie.’
‘It’s a date!’ Sam trilled and Mallory’s face almost split in two from her wide grin. They made their arrangements and Mallory floated from the shop with a smile as a new permanent fixture.
Josie shook her head and grinned. ‘I’ll see you later, okay? I’m off to the supermarket before I go home.’ Mallory nodded and hugged Josie tightly. She gave an excited squeak and did a silly dance on the spot, at which Josie laughed loudly before she waved and they went their separate ways.
When she arrived home, Mallory frantically searched through her wardrobe. I really need to go shopping, she sighed to herself. She grabbed something which she felt was passable out of her limited wardrobe and showered. Just as she climbed out of the shower, the doorbell chimed.
‘Oh, bollocks!’ Why did the doorbell always ring when you had either just stepped in or out of the shower? She wrapped a bath sheet around her and ran down the stairs. Hurriedly, she tied a towel-turban on top of her head and opened the front door.
Josie stood there waving jazz hands around. ‘Ta-daaaaaaa.’
Mallory gawped at her petite, blonde friend. She was very pretty, until she opened her mouth and let the tomboy out, and subtlety was most definitely not a trait she was famous for. There she stood in jeans and a hoody, UGG boots and a woolly hat with flaps that covered her ears.
‘Your timing, as always, is impeccable, Miss Gardiner,’ Mallory grumbled dryly.
‘I thought there may be a chance you might need these.’ She held out a green and white striped paper bag.
As she took the bag, Mallory had a feeling she knew what the contents were. ‘Oh, Josie, what’ve you done?’ She reached inside and pulled out the small blue box which, sure enough, had the word Condoms emblazoned on the side.
‘They’re ribbed ones too.’ Josie wiggled her eyebrows, giving a double thumbs-up.
Mallory tried to look indignant. Shaking her head and huffing out a sharp breath, she stared at her friend. ‘Seriously, Josie? Do you honestly think I’m likely to need these? I’ve only just met the guy.’
‘Well, I bloody hope so. You daft bat!’ Josie was now the one to appear indignant. ‘Anyone would think you were hunchbacked and covered in warts and boils. He sounds bloody gorgeous and you obviously fancy the pants off him and it sounds like the feeling is mutual. This is post-war Britain and the rules have changed, Mallory. In fact, there are no rules. So, stop worrying about being all proper and bloody Elizabeth-Bennet-Pride-and-Prejudice about things and go get you some nice, juicy ass, girlfriend.’
Mallory laughed at Josie’s appalling attempt at an American accent and ‘gangsta rappa’ stance. She sighed, rolled her eyes and – shaking her head – slammed the door in her face.
*
Sam and Mallory sat at a small table beside the fireplace in the Railwayman’s Arms; Mallory with her glass of red wine and Sam with a pint of ‘Sleeper Ale’, the pub’s home-made brew. They chatted easily.
‘So, tell me about your last boyfriend. I was shocked when you said you were single. I expected you’d have been snapped up by some lucky son of a gun long ago,’ Sam blurted suddenly, totally changing the subject and catching her off guard. He, genuinely, did seem surprised at her marital status, which both pleased and embarrassed her.
Mallory could feel her face flush as heat rose to her cheeks. ‘Crikey, get right to the point, eh, Sam?’ After a pause to check that he was, actually, interested, she began. ‘Hmm, how long have you got? Tell you what; I’ll give you the abridged version… Darren Spencer was a mechanic, a year older than me, divorced from a marriage that began when he was only twenty-two. He was obsessed with his car. In fact, he loved IT more than he did me. I thought it was love, but he just wanted a fling, even though we went out for a year. Then one day I realised that if there was ever to be some kind of an ultimatum, the car would win hands down. So, I ended it.’ The words rushed out all in one breath. She gasped air back into her lungs.
‘Wow!’ Sam’s eyes were wide. He gazed at her and took her hand. ‘I can’t believe that dumb son-of-a-bitch loved a hunk of metal more than a beautiful, funny, sexy-as-hell girl like you.’ He looked down at their hands and freed hers. ‘S-sorry, I didn’t mean to be so… forward. I mean I don’t know the guy… I’m sure he—’
‘Hey, it’s fine, honestly.’ Mallory missed the now absent contact and wanted to reach for his hand in return, but refrained. ‘You’ve pretty much got him pegged.’ She smiled.
They sat in silence for a few moments when something dawned on Mallory.
‘Wait a minute. You think I’m sexy?’ Her eyes widened at the realisation.
His lips turned up into a scrumptious half-smile that made her toes curl. ‘Hell yeah!’ He nodded and there was a mischievous glint visible in his verdant eyes.
Mallory sat up a little straighter, feeling quite boosted by this unexpected compliment. ‘So, tell me about your ex. It’s only fair.’
‘Touché,’ Sam said. He thought for a moment and then began. ‘Where do I start? Syd was… uhh—’
Mallory gasped. ‘Wait. Sid? Like the actor, Sidney Poitier? As in a… man?’ She feared that she had just opened a whole new can of worms and discovered that her potential true love was bisexual. She wasn’t sure she was that open-minded.
Sam slapped his knee as he threw his head back and guffawed at her shock. ‘Sydney was and still is, as far as I’m aware, female!’
‘Thank goodness for that.’ Mallory burst out laughing with him. ‘I was just wondering what on earth to say next.’
‘Sydney Lowery was a secretary in my brother’s firm. I met her when I worked in the office in Ottawa to do my internship. She was lovely at first.’
‘What did she look like?’ Mallory interrupted, unable to supress her latent insecurities.
‘Hey, no fair. I didn’t ask you what that douchebag, Darren, looked like. A little irrelevant don’t you think?’ He briefly raised his eyebrows but continued to smile.
‘He was tall, skinny and hairy with big ears. Nuff said. Humour me, Sam. I’m just curious.’
Sam chuckled after she gave him a vision of her ex. ‘Sheesh, he sounds as ugly as he was stupid.’ He gave her a wink. ‘Okay, she was about five-eight, long curly auburn hair, with green eyes.’ He rubbed his forehead as if trying to remember. ‘Anyhow, we split when I found out she was seeing several people behind my back. The one she really wanted broke her heart. She came back to me, but I wasn’t interested.’
‘Hmm, well she sounds like a douchebag too then,’ Mallory defended him.
‘It would appear so.’ He smiled, tilting his head to one side. ‘Good for us that our former partners were so crappy, huh? Or we may never have met.’ He kept his eyes locked on hers and she melted inside.
*
Mallory took out her keys as they arrived at her cottage. Wondering what the hell she was doing bringing Sam back to her place. What if they ended up kissing? Or worse still, what if they ended up in bed? He would see her naked! Oh-my-God! Oh-my-God! Oh-my-God! She panicked as her breathing increased. She fumbled, trying to get the keys into the lock.
‘Hey, are you okay? You look a little shaky?’
Damn! He had noticed.
‘Y-yeah, yeah I’m fine, no problems… just can’t get the key in with my gloves on, silly me. What a dufus,’ she rambled.
He took her shoulders and turned her to face him. Gently he cupped her cheek in his warm leather-clad hands and gazed into her eyes. ‘Hey, it’s coffee, that’s all. Don’t be so nervous.’ He smiled, planting a light kiss on her forehead. ‘I’m not expecting to jump into bed with you, Mallory. I’m so not that kind of guy.’
‘Well,’ she let out a sigh, ‘that’s good to know.’ She clambered for some poise. ‘And I wouldn’t expect you to want to… Erm… anyway.’ She tried to turn her attention to the door.
‘Wait, what? You wouldn’t expect me to want to?’ He frowned. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Nothing, forget I said anything. Really. I was thinking out loud.’ She hadn’t meant that last part to be audible at all. Dammiiiiiit!
Still grasping her shoulder with one hand, he tilted her chin back to look at him with the other. ‘Hey, Mallory, believe me when I say this, as I don’t say things I don’t mean. Oh, I want to, really I do. All I’ve been able to think about since we met the other day is how much I wanted to see you again. How much I would just die to kiss those luscious lips of yours and how good it would feel to run my hands over your gorgeous curves. I just don’t want to scare you off by groping at you on our first, official, date. I really think we have something here. Don’t you feel it too?’
Mallory gazed into his emerald eyes, unable to move; almost unable to breathe. She felt a little like a rabbit in headlights; stunned by his honesty and floored by his almost palpable desire for her. All she could muster was a little nod of her head.
With that he leaned down, pausing to seek her consent, and she closed her eyes in anticipation. His breath felt warm against her chilled skin and then, finally, after what felt to Mallory like forever, he took her mouth with his own. His firm lips moulded to hers and his tongue dipped inside just a little. He tasted delicious and his cologne filled her nose as she breathed him in. Her hands reached up and found his hair as she drew him nearer. His kiss was soft but oozed passion and longing and gave a glimpse of what could be. Her legs became weak.
When the kiss ended, she felt a little light-headed, almost drunk from the oh-so-brief exchange. She had never been kissed like that. She raised her fingers and touched her lips where his had been only moments before. They tingled. She tingled. She turned her gaze once again to the door and this time unlocked it with ease.
Sam followed her inside, holding her hand in his and she watched as he made an assessing glance around at his new surroundings. The fireplace wall was adorned in a sumptuous wallpaper of red and gold whilst the rest of the walls remained a rich, neutral cream. She loved artwork, unusual artwork at that, and had displayed as many pieces as she could without cluttering up the small room. Sam stood in front of the mantle appraising one of her most prized paintings. The scene showed a couple walking along a moonlit beach. The painting was almost black and white but for a bright red umbrella that the couple carried together.
‘Very romantic.’ He turned and smiled at her. A little sigh escaped her throat. ‘Nice little place you have here,’ he said, nodding in approval.
‘Thanks. It’s small, but I love it. My parents bought it for me before they died.’
He shook his head. ‘Oh Mallory, I really am sorry for your loss, but wow, what a thoughtful gift.’
Mallory shrugged. ‘I was their only child and they wanted me to have a safe place to live when I moved out of home. They didn’t have much money but they bought this place and rented it out until I was old enough to move in.’
With sadness in his eyes that she recognised all too well, he asked, ‘So what happened to them?’
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment to steel herself. ‘My mum fought a long illness and Dad looked after her. I think when she passed away he just gave up. I think he died of a broken heart to be honest.’
He stroked her cheek. ‘They had a really strong bond, huh?’
She smiled and nodded. ‘Soulmates.’
‘Well they made a great choice for you with this place.’
She glanced around her lounge. ‘It’s big enough for the two of us. Well, more like one and a half.’ She laughed as a little black dog ran into the room making a beeline for the visitor in her home. ‘This is Ruby.’
Sam crouched down to greet the fluffy canine. ‘Hey there, cutie-pie, aren’t you just the sweetest wittle fing I have ever seen? Yes, you are. Yes, you are,’ Sam cooed at the dog, which clearly approved of him.
‘So… coffee?’ Mallory asked.
Sam tore himself away from the black wiry bundle of fur skipping around his feet. ‘That’d be great, thank you,’ he answered brightly.
He followed her into the kitchen, still glancing around. She had painted the uneven walls in duck egg blue to complement the handmade pine storage units. There was just enough space for a small dining table, against one wall. The rest of the available spaces on each wall were filled with old, metal advertising signs and little plaques displaying phrases such as ‘I kiss better than I cook’ and ‘I love cooking with wine… and sometimes I put it in my food’. Mallory heard Sam chuckle as he read the words.
When they returned to the lounge, Mallory set the tray of cups, cafetière, cream jug and sugar bowl on the little coffee table which was made from an old piece of tree stump with a highly polished top.
Sam sat on the couch. ‘Wow cool table.’ He ran his hand along the nobbled sides and smooth top of the furniture. ‘And a cool tray.’
Mallory walked over to switch on her iPod docking station and flicked to Snow Patrol’s ‘Eyes Open’ album – an old favourite – and hit play.
‘Oh, great choice. I love this album. So, what’s the story with the table? And the tray?’ Sam asked.
‘The coffee table is a creation made by Brad, my best friend Josie’s boyfriend. He studied carpentry. He’s also responsible for the kitchen.’ She gestured in the direction of the other room. ‘And the tray is me. It’s just a plain old seed tray that I tarted up a bit.’
‘Tarted up?’ Sam mimicked her accent, grinning cheekily.
‘Oy!’ She playfully hit him with a throw cushion. ‘Yes, I make stuff. Or I buy bits and pieces and make them look pretty,’ she said proudly, pleased at his earlier compliment.
‘Well, you are one talented lady, Miss Yorksherrrr.’
‘Why thank you, Mr Canada.’ Mallory proceeded to pour the coffee and hand a mug of it to Sam; its delicious aroma wafting through the room.
‘Have you always lived here alone?’
‘I have. As I said, I lived with my aunt after my folks died but eventually I took the plunge. I never really thought about getting a lodger. It was very lonely to begin though. I missed my folks and my aunt terribly. That’s how I came to get Ruby.’ A cloud of melancholy threatened to descend on her but her all-time favourite song – ‘Chasing Cars’ – began to play in the background and she smiled.
Sam let out a deep breath. ‘Oh, I love this song.’ He closed his eyes and Mallory stared into space with a serene smile playing on her lips.
Moments later she could sense his eyes on her. ‘You really are beautiful, Mallory. But I get the feeling you don’t think you are.’
She covered his hand with hers. ‘I’ll settle for the fact that you think so.’
Sam took Mallory’s cup and placed it beside his on the tray. He moved in closer still and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. ‘I hope that one day I get to show you how beautiful I think you are.’
Mallory gasped.
*
Great, he’d done it again with his ‘speak first, think later’ mentality. Idiot, he reprimanded himself. It was true though. He couldn’t deny it, and why should he? And furthermore why shouldn’t she know this? He wanted her. He wanted her now and he had to stop himself from ripping at her clothing right there and then like some crazed animal.
No, he breathed, trying to calm his thoughts. He was willing to wait. He didn’t want her to think of this as a one-time thing. He truly desired this woman. She was everything he had ever wanted. She was beautiful… no… stunning, but beguilingly unaware of the fact. She was intelligent, hilariously funny, kind and passionate. The idiot with the car must have been crazy.
*
Mallory saw a mix of emotions flash across Sam’s beautiful face. I would NEVER sleep with a man on our first date, she reminded herself, thinking back to the gift she had received from Josie. Although, technically, this could be counted as our second… and if I was to be really picky, we’ve changed location so this could be counted as our third…
Before she could stop herself, she lurched forward and flung her arms around his neck. Grabbing his shirt with one hand and his hair with the other, she pulled him towards her. She pushed her tongue between his full, luscious lips and deepened the kiss, desperate to taste him again. It was a hot, lust-fuelled, needy kiss, and, in that split second, she hoped it conveyed that she wanted him desperately and NOW!
He didn’t make a move and so she started to pull away thinking she had made the most stupid mistake of her life. Oh, God he thinks I’m a tart! Aaargh!
Her breathing was ragged as she dared to glance into his eyes. He was staring open-mouthed, his breathing, too, was erratic.
She stood quickly, feeling a little head rush as she did so. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.’
Suddenly Sam rose to his feet too. She expected him to make his excuses and leave. She wouldn’t blame him. She had just molested him on her sofa! Hussy! The word her aunt had used to describe what she considered ‘loose girls’ sprang immediately to mind.
Sam just stood there looking at her, panting; clearly searching for words which seemed to evade him. This was getting worse. She covered her eyes with her hands. He had said he desired her. He had talked about her curves; he had kissed her first, for goodness’ sake! He said he wanted her, in a roundabout way. What the hell was going on then?
Needing to fill the silence, she began backtracking. ‘I’m not usually like this. I don’t launch myself at men, well, of course not unless… unless my heel’s stuck in a pavement… and… and I don’t have any choice in the matter, but even then, I don’t stick my tongue down their throat and expect them to be happy about it. Obviously, not that I’ve ever actually found myself in that exact scenario until I met you. Oh God, I can’t believe I just did what I just did. What a moron. And I can’t believe I’m still talking,’ she rambled. It was truly ridiculous.
Sam walked over to her and looked down, peering into her eyes. He placed a hand on either side of her face. ‘Would you please, just stop talking for one second?’ Despite his harsh words, his expression was warm and he was smiling.
Without further words, he slid his hands into her hair and lowered his mouth to hers. This time the kiss was searching, passionate, deep and lusciously wet. This time his tongue entered her mouth and she welcomed it with her own.
In turn, he caressed her back, tangled his fingers in her hair and brushed his thumbs adoringly over her face. His movements were prurient, yet somehow loving. Every so often he would break free of her mouth to gaze into her eyes; almost as if he disbelieved that this was real.
Taken over by some inner fortitude and with Josie’s words about there being no rules echoing around her mind, she took his hand and bravely led him towards the open staircase. Maybe now was the time to stop being the mousey, self-conscious woman she had been for far too long. Maybe now she should follow her heart instead of letting her logical mind rule the day.
Sam followed her, willingly, up the stairs telling her that she wasn’t making a huge mistake after all. She opened the door to her bedroom and, keeping a hold on his hand, she backed slowly inside. He gazed down at her with hooded eyes, filled with lust. Although shy and still a little self-conscious, she was about to trust this gorgeous man with her body.
Mallory had never felt so desirable and it filled her with a new confidence. Sam stroked her hair as she began to unbutton the light blue cotton shirt that he had looked so very handsome in. She removed the shirt and threw it aside. Next, she tugged at the hem of his white T-shirt, he lifted his arms and in one smooth movement, she swiped it off over his head. She gasped as she laid fresh eyes on the beautiful, muscular, naked torso in front of her. Okay, he wasn’t male-model material, but gosh, to her he couldn’t be more perfect.
*
Sam removed her glasses. ‘Wow, Mallory, you have the prettiest eyes,’ he told her as he placed the glasses on her nightstand. He unfastened the top three buttons of her fitted black shirt to reveal just a hint of cleavage and his breath caught in his throat. Gently, he continued down until her lace-covered breasts were exposed to his hungry gaze.
He discarded the shirt. ‘So beautiful,’ he whispered.
Mallory’s cheeks flushed and he leant forward to plant a gentle kiss on her collarbone.
It was so soon, but he knew that this was more than just sex. There was something about this incredible woman that called to him on a deeper level and he wanted to communicate this to her somehow. He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her to him, in a warm sensual embrace. He ran his fingers up and down her spine. Her smooth, creamy skin heated under his touch and he rested his chin atop her head. She was just the right height. She reciprocated and smoothed her hands down his sculpted back.
He pulled away, gazing at her once again as he tilted her chin up towards him. ‘Are you okay, Mallory? We don’t have to do this. I’m happy to wait. We have time.’
‘I don’t want to wait, Sam. This feels right. I want this… I want you.’
On hearing these words, his ardour was fuelled. He slowly crouched down before her, turned her around and unzipped the back of the fitted skirt that skimmed the delicious curve of her hip. He shimmied the fabric down her rounded bottom and onto the floor before kissing her lower back just above the top of her black lace panties, and she shivered under his touch.
Turning her around once more, he rose to stand before her, taking a step back to appraise the gift he had just unwrapped and in complete awe of her beauty.
But as he was admiring her sensuous curves, he sensed her discomfort at his gaze. ‘Hey, Mallory, please don’t feel embarrassed,’ he reassured. ‘I can honestly say that I’ve never desired any woman more than I desire you right now.’
*
Hearing the huskiness in his voice, she trembled with desire. She wanted to see all of him; feel all of him. With a deep calming breath, she slid the straps of her lace bra down over her shoulders and bent her arms back to unfasten the clasp. She held the underwear in her hands, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable as her full, rounded breasts heaved with a mixture of fear and need. Sam took it from her hands and threw it onto the little armchair in the corner of the room.
A wry smile appeared on his face. ‘Wanna do this last part together?’ he whispered and Mallory nodded. ‘Okay, on three… One… two… three.’
Hurriedly, they both removed their remaining undergarments and stood there, naked before one another.
Oh, my God this is really happening, the scrambled thought rushed through her mind.
He was a spectacular specimen of sexual male, she thought. His desire evidently mirrored her own and she reached forward to lightly caress him as his head tilted back and he sighed a deep groan.
In one swift move, he pulled her on to the bed to feast on her sensitive skin, kissing and caressing her in ways that made her inhibitions melt away on waves of wonderful sensation. Gentle, tender fingers and lips trailed across her heated flesh, and try as she might she could no longer keep her eyes focused on the man who was bringing her body to life and so she allowed herself to become lost in his touch and his passionate whispered words of adoration.
*
Later, when they had floated back down to earth, Sam collapsed back onto the bed, pulling Mallory into his side. Quite exhausted, she wrapped her arm around him and nuzzled into his neck as his hot, heavy breaths feathered her overheated skin. They lay silent and speechless, relishing the glow remaining from the passion and intimacy they had just shared.
He rolled to face her and they caressed each other, entwining their fingers and exchanging tender kisses, whilst their breathing calmed and their heartbeats returned to normal.
‘Wow,’ was all Mallory could manage to say after the long silence as she gazed deep into the eyes of her lover.
‘You’re telling me.’ Sam inhaled deeply and rolled onto his back, raising an arm above his head.
She lay beside him not knowing what else to do.
As if sensing her sudden awkwardness, he turned to face her again and softly said, ‘Hey, penny for ’em?’
‘I’m just thinking that was probably the best sex I’ve ever had, but don’t go getting all big-headed and arrogant now.’ She poked his bare flesh playfully.
He scooped her up and pulled her into him once again. ‘If I told you that I felt exactly the same way would that help?’ he asked, stroking her hair.
‘If it were true then yes, I suppose I’d feel pretty good,’ she replied in a small, shy voice.
‘All I can say, Mallory, is that I hope we do a lot more of that and on a regular basis too. In between the odd conversation and meal of course,’ he teased. ‘A man’s gotta eat.’
She nuzzled into his neck again, smiling and savouring his words.
*
Sam returned to Canada for Christmas a couple of weeks later and Mallory missed him terribly. He had left her a little gift under her tree and given strict instructions that it was not to be opened until Christmas morning. She had picked up the box on several occasions to examine the beautiful wrapping – or that’s what she had told herself she was doing. She had secretly sniffed it, shaken it and been so tempted to peel back just one corner of the sparkly Santa paper but she had always placed it back under the tree unopened.
In their usual festive tradition, Josie and Brad arrived to stay on Christmas Eve and they all drank champagne and prepared the veg for their festive feast. They had eventually gone to bed at around midnight, after playing a very long game of Scrabble, which Brad had won and boasted about for the rest of the wine-fuelled evening.
Mallory awoke at nine on Christmas morning and made her way downstairs, eager to open her gift from Sam. Brad and Josie were still sleeping and so she switched on the tree lights and admired her beautifully decorated, real tree as she inhaled the fragrance of the garland over the fireplace. In spite of the losses she had suffered over the years, Christmas held so many wonderful memories for her and she loved the festive feeling.
Taking the rectangular box wrapped from under the tree, she read the tag once more,
To my beautiful Yorkshire Rose, lots of love from Santa Sam.
She grinned widely and eagerly ripped off the paper and inside was a red velvet box. She opened it slowly and gasped at the contents. A stunning white gold bracelet of linked hearts, each with a diamond at its centre. Wedged into the lid of the box was a note.
She unfolded it and read, Mallory, I give you my heart, forever. Tears of happiness stung her eyes and she wished so much that he was here with her.
Lunch was amazing but Mallory and her guests ate far too much, rendering them all sleepy. At two o’clock, the phone rang and Mallory almost vaulted over the sofa to answer it.
‘Hello? Sam?’
‘Hey, baby, it’s me. Merry Christmas.’
‘Oh Sam! Merry Christmas to you too. I miss you so much.’
‘I miss you too. Been telling my mom and Ry all about you,’ he told her. ‘They want to meet you. How would you fancy a little holiday out here sometime?’
In spite of how fast things had progressed she could think of nothing she wanted more. Maybe she should have been terrified at the prospect of meeting his family but deep inside she knew this was meant to be, so instead of fear, her heart tripped with a jolt of excitement. ‘That’d be amazing. We’ll have to arrange it. I opened my gift by the way.’
‘Yeah? What did you think?’ He sounded hopeful.
‘It’s just beautiful, Sam. I love it.’
‘I’m so glad. I just wanted you to have it when I saw it.’
Hearing his voice made her heart melt and made her miss him even more. Being apart at Christmas was difficult even though, relatively speaking, they had only just met. They chatted for a while until Sam had to go.
‘I’ll see you soon. Can’t wait.’ She sighed into the receiver.
‘See you soon… I love you.’
Her heart skipped a beat when she heard his words. ‘S-sorry?’
There was a pause at the end of the line. ‘Whoops… I should maybe have said that to you in person, huh? Well, it’s out there now so I’m going to say it again. Mallory, I love you.’
Tears cascades down her face. ‘Oh Sam, I love you too.’
*
January 2015
Back in the present, Sam wasn’t giving up on his hare-brained idea.
Mallory knew he had been feeling a little homesick for the open spaces of Canada and she also knew that he loved the similarities between his home and the Highland vistas of Scotland. It had been those things that had driven him to do his usual ‘just looking’ on the Scottish property websites and it had been then that he’d discovered Sealladh-mara Cottage – or Seaview Cottage in English – at Clachan Seil, twelve miles south of Oban on the West coast. The little whitewashed house sat near the water’s edge on Seil Island, a stunning seaside location close to the beautiful hump backed Atlantic bridge and in one of their favourite locations. He had evidently fallen head over heels for the place.
He had decided that he had spent too much time working for his brother and even though he had been living with Mallory since their fourth month of being together he wanted to buy a place of their own, and to do something completely different, maybe write a historical novel.
He insisted they could afford it now, with the shop doing so well and his inheritance – a combination of money left by his beloved father and Uncle Jacob, his father’s eccentric and wealthy brother. And if they could sell her little house they could have a comfortable life in Scotland.
‘Why wait until we’re too old to really enjoy it, huh? At least say you’ll think about it, Mally?’ he pleaded as she rested her head on his shoulder in a warm embrace and Ruby tried her best to squeeze in between them. ‘I mean, we could go and visit a few more times first before we relocate completely?’ he implored. ‘And Josie is more than capable of running Le Petit Cadeau for you now. She’s there more than you are. Sealladh-mara Cottage has a workshop, so you could concentrate on making stuff for the business again, which you know you’d love. Look at it. It’s the perfect seaside escape.’ He desperately tried to convince her of the prospect of such an idyllic lifestyle.
Mallory turned and picked up the printout of the pretty whitewashed, stone-built cottage and began to read the description. Three good-sized bedrooms, one en-suite, one family bathroom, lounge, dining room, farmhouse-style kitchen, utility room and, best of all, the detached workshop.
She and Sam had spent some happy holidays over the past couple of years in Argyle in the Highlands and had visited the little isle with its pretty bridge that spanned the inlet of the Atlantic Ocean. And admittedly they had talked about how wonderful it would be to live there someday. Someday. But the thought of making such a huge change now was a scary one. Would she be crazy to consider it? Realising that not all of her spur of the moment decisions had been mistakes she looked at the idyllic cottage in its location by the water and sighed.
‘It does look very pretty,’ she mumbled, not realising she had done so out loud.
‘Does this mean you’ll think about it?’ The look on Sam’s face was reminiscent of an excited schoolboy. How could she possibly resist?
‘I’ll think about it. But I mean think.’ Almost before the words had left her lips he swept her up in his arms and swung her around, kissing her passionately, before leading her up the stairs to their bedroom.