19
Later that day, Rose finally had been deposited back at the cottage. Rob had never returned from whatever business he was dealing with, so sweet Tommy had brought her home; appearing at the bedroom door to inform her Rob had called to make him act as chauffeur. She had felt the instant disappointment weigh down in her stomach at that revelation.
With her torn dress in hand and dressed in some of Abby’s jeans and designer ripped t-shirt emblazoned with a punked out puppy, her hair was tied up in a girly ponytail and she had some pink trainers on, he drove her home. A perk of being a comparable size to Abby.
Soiled high heels in hand and her clutch bag under one armpit, she thanked the elderly gent at her gate and he told her Rob would return her car later when he came back. He had not wanted her to chance driving with the amount of alcohol she had consumed last night, even if it was only a short trip and had made it clear he wanted to return the mini himself. She had agreed, feeling warm and fluttery in her stomach at his protectiveness and knowing she would get to see him again soon. Silly school girl flutters that she scolded back down.
Rose sighed with relief as she watched the little green metro bump away down the gravel road, glad to finally be home and alone after such an eventful few hours. She needed some breathing space and a long nap in her own house. Her hangover still plaguing her, despite the power shower she had taken in Rob’s room. She had spent way too long looking at his toiletries and smelling his aftershave while getting ready.
The cottage, much like Muffin, welcomed her like a beautiful familiar friend and for the first time, almost with new eyes Rose really did feel like she was home. Muffin ecstatically jumped around her ankles, whining for affection, so she showered him with cuddles and kisses and a brief walk to relieve his bladder.
Rose took in the rooms before her, blinking; being away all night was almost like refreshing her sight and the realisation as she walked in the door at how cosy and welcoming and homely the cottage finally looked. Her living room with its overstuffed leather couches and plush rugs, small wooden tables, strategically placed with lamps and trinkets. The huge fireplace and mantle lined with pillar candles and modern photo frames of her family. The neutral tones ranging from creams, to caramel, browns and chocolates in her furniture, throws, cushions and rugs, just made her want to roll onto the couch and sleep forever surrounded by her safe haven.
Without opening her curtains, she pulled one of the thick fluffy throws she kept folded in a huge blanket box against the wall. She laid down on the couch discarding her dress and accessories, kicking off Abby’s trainers and swiping all her cushions to one side to make a cosy day bed. She pulled up her throw and slid the Tv remote from the wooden chest, which served as a coffee table. Muffin cried to get up beside her and she lifted him gently, letting him snuggle in the hollow of her stomach as she curled on her side, reveling in the little hot water bottle. Clicking on some old western movie for atmosphere and drifted off to sleep, wrapped up in quiet cosiness.
* * *
The fright with which Rose woke sent a horrible beating pulse through her stomach, causing internal shakes at the loud hammering in her head. Momentarily disorientated, it took a few seconds to come back to her surroundings and realise the noise was someone at the door. Sitting up in a hurry and startling Muffin from his sleep with a yelp, he angrily leapt from the couch and went to lay down under a side table to return to the land of slumber. Muffin, as far as dogs went was one lazy little beast at the best of times. Disturbing a nap was a fate worse than death.
It was darker than when she had laid down and there was some modern horror movie on the Tv, strangling screams echoing from it. She shrugged off the throw weakly, yelling out to whoever was about to get throttled
‘I’m coming!’ before stretching and stifling a yawn. Catching a quick glimpse of her dishevelled appearance and messy ponytail, she walked to the door and pulled it open while running fingers through her hair and rubbing her sleepy eyes. She was surprised at the darkness outside and the person standing there.
Matt stood towering in her doorway, all bright teeth, smarmy grins and blonde hair, shining at her. She felt that thud of disappointment again. Overkill of aftershave choking her, he was clad in a leather motorbike jacket, and matching trousers. Catching a glimpse of behind him into the dark, revealed a shiny motorbike gleaming in the moonlight with a helmet propped on the seat.
Figures that the flashy yank would have a flashy ride.
Muffin, appearing from the lounge, walked between her legs to sniff at his shoe protectively, snorted in disgust and glared at the stranger with a low feeble growl. Matt frowned at her little fur ball and attempted to lean down to pet him, which only sent Muffin scurrying back for cover in the main room with a bark, he was not fond of strangers generally and this was a customary Muffin reaction when on his home turf, except when he met Rob. Matt straightened back up to face her, looking a little bemused.
‘Cinderella, I see you found your way home then?’ He leaned heavily into her door frame taking up her entrance way in a rather imposing fashion. Rose moved back slightly, aware of the lack of space in the small hall and suddenly feeling claustrophobic. She just wanted him to turn around and go away again. His leather jacket smell and designer scent made her queasiness return full force; hangover still lingering.
‘Um, yeah, how did you know where I live?’ Irritation barely concealed in her voice, she was in no mood for this type of visitor.
‘Small town baby... I tried this morning but there was no sign of you. Wanted to make sure you got back okay.’ He was trailing his eyes up and down Rose, like a dog eyeing up a juicy bone and it made her suddenly uncomfortable. He did not seem to care that it was fairly obvious that he was undressing her in his mind’s eye.
‘Well, here I am. I would invite you in but...’ Without warning, he suddenly came forward, pushing past her in the hall without waiting for her to finish. She was rendered speechless by the fast motion which left her standing in an empty open doorway.
‘Sure, thanks!’ He moved down the hall, taking up way more space than necessary and eyeing up the paintings as he shrugged off his tight leather jacket.
Rose felt irritated, but she did not have the energy for drama; swinging the door shut a tad rather aggressively, she figured a cup of coffee, then send him on his way when she found out what he wanted. Her hangover still had her feeling rough, her senses telling her he had some sort of pre-planned motive for showing up like this.
She managed to slide past him and make her way into the kitchen, ignoring his facial gestures as their bodies collided in the small space, the dirty wink. The grin suggestively aimed at her face that made her want to throat punch him. She had to duck past his hand that seemed to gravitate way too close to her rear as she moved past him.
Creep!
She was not someone who enjoyed invasion when abruptly woken from a hangover nap; and was not someone who liked overly hormonal men trying to get a quick grope in passing.
He rambled on about the dance and minor details and people while she got the cups ready and the kettle began to boil, her mind blocking him out as she made empty noises as though she was listening. Empty small talk as he followed her a little too closely. Nodding and humming in the right places, she just wanted him to leave.
Passing him the mug across her kitchen table that he was hovering besides, she did not wait to invite him to sit but just plonked down at the nearest seat and began sipping. He realised they were not heading back to her cosy lounge to snuggle on the couch and reluctantly sat down; watching her face, a little too closely; she figured he was probably trying to work out his chances of getting her to her bedroom.
‘So, to what do I owe this flying visit?’ She said brightly, faking a smile. No point beating around the bush when she felt like she was on the verge of a physical breakdown, her headache still painfully hanging around her head.
‘Like I said baby, just checking you got home and the such. Your mate Lord Big Shot sure as hell made a heck of a scene outside the party. Thought I had tucked you away somewhere in my taxi, trying to kidnap you.’ He laughed easily, showing that dazzling smile and bringing the handsomeness back to his face. Rose relaxed a little.
Was she being prickly due to a hangover? Was her mind overreacting?
He was concerned. Not here to try and molest her.
Maybe.
‘I’m sorry about Rob. He was worried about me. I stupidly wandered off and got lost in the gardens.’ There was no point in going into the embarrassing details.
‘What’s the story there? You two?’ He pushed his mug aside and leant his forearms on the table, hunching lower so he could gaze right into her face. It made her uncomfortable again. Something in his eyes that made her want to pour her hot drink over his head. She sat back, taking away the temptation.
‘No story. We hardly know each other. I’m his sister’s best friend, that’s all.’ She avoided his eyes, feeling discomfort and hoping he didn’t pry more. She did not like the way he was interrogating her over Rob Munro.
‘So, you’re not screwing him, then?’
She choked on her coffee at his bluntness.
‘Heck No! I don’t...Screw...People. I’m not a slapper!’ Although in the back of her mind, the thought of doing it with Rob brought a very warm sensation to the pit of her body in a rather shameful way. She hoped it also made it very clear to him that he was not going to get any time between her sheets. ‘Look Matt. I know being Mr all America you’re all very forward and like to bed hop casually, but I’m a small-town girl and this place is very old fashioned. People don’t just screw around here like it’s nothing. Sex is a big deal!’ She knew that was not entirely true, but taking the moral high ground was better than a straight-out refusal. She did not want to be overly cruel. He raised his eyebrows laughing. Thick skinned.
