Ellie picked her way through the woods, the moon and the floating buzz of the dragonflies edging her path. Crickets rustled in the muggy midsummer air. It had been a hot day, and the night was close and uncomfortable.
She’d tried to get an early night once they’d returned from Maddy and Jacob’s house-building party, but she’d been lying in bed, listening to the sounds of the house settle around her as Dee put Toto and Josh to bed, and Art tramped up the stairs then back down again, probably to put a few extra hours in at the workshop.
And sleep had eluded her.
The woods had beckoned. The thought of a midnight walk to the millpond was too tantalising to resist. Having made the decision to stay in Wiltshire another month, she had hoped that her anxiety about returning to the US would have begun to calm, but if anything it had got worse.
She felt edgy and tense, her insides hollow and achy and somehow heavy after the news of Maddy’s pregnancy. She was overjoyed for the couple, of course she was. Maddy had confided in her and Dee that she intended to tell Jacob tonight, their first night in their new home. And Ellie had no doubt at all that he would be ecstatic. She also had no doubt at all that Jacob would make a brilliant dad, because he was more than ready to take on that responsibility.
But the news had made her think about the night she and Dan had discovered together they were expecting Josh. The panic, the anxiety, and the trauma of what had followed, when they’d gone to the family planning clinic to discuss their options and she’d run out again in tears, deciding to keep the baby no matter what.
She adored Josh now, of course she did. He meant everything to her. He was the only good thing to have come out of their marriage. And, because of him, she could never regret the decision she’d made that day. But the memory of Dan’s face, confused and scared and yet supportive, as she’d told him her decision and he’d struggled to do the right thing, still haunted her. Dan hadn’t been ready for that commitment. And neither had she.
Was that the real reason he’d always found it so hard to be faithful? And why she’d allowed herself to go through the motions for so long, while knowing she no longer loved him? The failure of their marriage was an indictment of both of them really and all the immature decisions they’d made along the way without ever thinking through the consequences. Until it was too late.
And Josh had paid the price.
She had to speak to her son. Soon. She’d spent the last few hours lying in bed running through all the ways to have that conversation with him, and she still didn’t know what to say. How to explain it all. He’d been so happy in the last few months, away from Orchard Harbor, away from the pressures of real life. And so had she. But was avoiding making decisions really an improvement on making the wrong ones?
She heard the splash of water ahead of her and saw the derelict brick structure of the old millhouse looming over the lake ahead, now overgrown with weeds and bracken. A rambling rose bush climbed up one side, its flowers a dark glossy red in the moonlight, making the millhouse look like something out of a fairy tale. A gloomy and derelict fairy tale worthy of a Tim Burton movie. Walking under the weeping willow that shrouded the water’s edge, she stopped dead as the splashing became louder, closer, and she realised it wasn’t just the lap of water on the bank.
Across the pond, she saw someone powering through the water with swift, fluid strokes. The swimmer’s dark hair bobbed as the person stopped and gripped a tree root, to lever themselves out of the water.
Her heartbeat ticked into her throat. The ache in her abdomen sank lower as wide shoulders, followed by a broad back, rose from the dark pond. Rivulets of water slicked the planes of muscle, which tapered to the lighter strip of flesh defining his buttocks, as he climbed onto the bank in one fluid, athletic movement.
Art.
All thoughts of Dan, her marriage and the conversation she still needed to have with Josh evaporated in a firestorm of lust so hot it made her thighs tremble.
Why did the man have to look so gorgeous? And what the heck was he doing swimming naked in the millpond in the middle of the night?
So much for cooling off. She’d be unlikely to sleep for the rest of the week with this vision burned into her brain.
Bending, Art picked up a piece of clothing from the bank. He rubbed the work shirt across ridged abs and then gave his groin a few absent strokes, before dropping the shirt to scoop up his boxer shorts. He stood upright to put them on, and the breath Ellie had sucked into burning lungs burst out. The shocked gasp sounded like a gunshot in the eerie quiet.
Art’s head lifted, and he caught her standing on the opposite bank staring.
Heat suffused her entire body. A hot aching heat that tightened her skin over her bones, tenderised her breasts and made the weight in her abdomen pound in time with her elevated pulse. She forced herself to breathe past the immoveable lump forming in her throat.
He held his boxers in one hand, but made no move to cover himself as if challenging her to look her fill. She took the dare, because she couldn’t make herself look away.
Gilded by silvery light, his body was hard and angular, big and yet graceful in its own rough-hewn way. Unlike Dan, who spent hours in the gym perfecting his toned physique, Art’s body had the sinewy strength of muscles acquired through physical labour. There was nothing buffed or overly toned, nothing waxed or pretty about him. Even at a distance of twenty yards, she could see the white ridged line of the scar across his belly, the faded petals of his tattoo, the curls of hair on his chest that tapered through his abdomen, the pale outline of his penis where the hair bloomed into a thicket at his groin.
She couldn’t make out his expression, but wondered if he could see her cheeks glowing like beacons.
She stood paralysed, the surge of longing burning away all her embarrassment until the only sensation left was the blood pumping through her veins into all those long neglected parts of her anatomy.
He broke eye contact first, to climb into his boxers. Not rushing, but not lingering either.
Ellie fled the riverbank, and retraced her steps back through the woods towards the farmhouse, not running, but not dawdling either.
Each step of the way, she added items to her newest and now most essential to-do list.
Item one: Go into Gratesbury tomorrow and get some sleeping pills.
Item two: Check out the online buying options for vibrators.
Item three: No more midnight trips to the millpond.
Ever.