Louisa George – The Other Life of Charlotte Evans (страница 2)

‘And a mortgage. Shudder.’ Her friend grimaced. ‘Maybe, when I’ve scratched my travel itch and been around the world three times, I might agree with you, but don’t hold your breath.’

Here they were at that intersection of life, straddling adulthood and responsibility and independence, wondering whether it was the right time to settle down or whether to hang on just a little bit longer to being carefree.

Charlotte smiled to herself. It was definitely the right time for her and Ben. Something had just clicked when she’d met him at a friend of a friend’s party and she’d known, right then and there, he was her future. Sounded silly admitting it, but there it was. ‘Well, we’re planning foreign holidays for when we’re not quite so financially stretched and before kids, so who knows? We might meet you somewhere halfway across the world for a catch-up. Ben’s just finished night shift and has a couple of days off, so we thought we’d get another coat of paint on the lounge. I said I’d help when I could. Just more things to cross off our pre-wedding list.’

And saying that reminded her of all the other things she needed to do before the after school classes. After the painting, it was sorting the accounts for the end of year, which were already overdue. Organising a fitting for her wedding dress and thinking about flowers and… and… her head started to swirl. She took a big, deep breath and blew it out. Two months out and things were busy already.

Her phone buzzed as Lissa started to close down the computer in the office and make moves towards the front door. ‘Hang on, Liss. I’ll just check…’

I like paint pots and I cannot lie.

What the? Charlotte looked at the text and laughed. Typical Ben. She flicked him an answer: I thought it was big butts?

He came back almost immediately: I like those too. And hot little sexy ones like yours. I have a loaded brush and I’m not afraid to use it…

She quickly replied: Tease

Ben: Fancy a roll-er in the bedroom?

God, his jokes were bad, but that was just one of the reasons she loved him: I’ve only got a couple of hours and we’re supposed to be doing the undercoat…

Ben: Plenty of time to strip and roll…?

Charlotte: Later?

No. She deleted her instinctive answer, because perhaps Lissa was just a little bit right; maybe she was starting to feel the weight of responsibility, all grown-up. Since when had things come to this? Putting sex off to do chores? There’d been a time when they couldn’t get enough of each other, sneaking out of work to meet up. He used to swing by the stage door at Sadler’s Wells when she was in the corps, and they’d find a dark corner somewhere backstage and… well, now things were just so much more grown-up. with sex in only appropriate locations and, usually, on his day off, otherwise he was too tired. Lissa would be appalled. Thinking about it now, Charlotte was too.

She quickly tapped on the keys: I’ll be back in five… who gets to strip first?

Ben: You. And I’ll be waiting, tools at the ready ;-)

She felt the blush start at her face and quickly spread. He’d always been like this; playful, loving, attentive. ‘Ha! Everything’s about sex with this man.’

Lissa was watching her, hands on her hips and foot tapping. ‘Not such a bad thing?’

‘No. Not at all. It’s just…’ She thought about what kind of snappy reply she could give him.

But Lissa nudged her in the ribs. ‘Hello?… I’m literally dying here and you’re giggling and writing sweet nothings. Is my near death by starvation not registering with you?’

‘Sorry, Lissa. Ben’s just… you know how he is.’

‘Yes, I do.’ Her friend did a pretend gagging action. ‘But he’s a good guy, I guess… Mr Perfect for you. If ever there was such a thing. I’ll save you the women are doing it for themselves lecture for another day – I prefer to do that on a full stomach. Actually, I prefer to do most things on a full stomach, so let’s get locked up and go.’

Charlotte checked she’d locked the door and started towards the footpath. ‘One day you’ll meet the perfect man for you too.’

‘Nah. Gosling’s taken. Even I couldn’t take on both Hemsworths – and don’t ever make me choose between them. And Tatum’s already got two kids… I couldn’t deal with all that, thanks.’

Poor Lissa. Determined to play the field and fight the aging process every step of the way. ‘Okay, so go ahead and get your Mammoth burger. I’ll see you later, when you can tell me all about your night at the Apollo.’

Her friend grinned and blushed… which was so not like her. ‘It’s what happened after the Apollo that I want to tell you about.’

‘Oh? Tell me now.’ Charlotte’s phone buzzed.

Ben again. You have four minutes, then I’m coming to find you. I’m starting the strip right now…

She laughed. ‘Shoot, I think I’m on a promise. Tell me later.’

There was a tired but satisfied glint in Lissa’s eyes that Charlotte hadn’t registered until now. ‘We can swap the gory details after class. Go. Go. Booty calls.’

London was putting on a very sunny show, considering it was early June and really only just dipping into summer. There was a smattering of colour in people’s gardens and a promising heat in the air. The sunshine always put a smile on everyone’s faces, and knowing what was waiting for her back at their half-renovated two-up two-down Victorian terrace put a spring in Charlotte’s step too.

‘Hey, gorgeous!’ She bounded into the house. There was a flutter in her stomach which made her feel as if she was doing something illicit, very naughty. Sex in the afternoon! On a school day. Instead of painting more coats of Farrow and Ball’s best Cornforth White on not-quite-straight walls.

He met her at the door, but she was slightly disappointed to see that, even though his top half was stripped bare and his honed muscles were rippling, his DIY jeans were still in situ. There was a definite glint in his lovely dark-brown eyes, though, a heat and a warmth – sex and love. He pressed a kiss on her mouth. ‘Hi, honey, you’re home.’

‘I certainly am. But you appear to be very overdressed…’ Her hand reached for his waist and she pulled him closer, playing with the top of his jeans zip.

What she’d first been attracted by – apart from the police-fit body and sense of humour – had been that Ben always attacked everything with determination and enthusiasm. He was also a physical guy, good with his hands.

She smiled to herself; he still was whenever he got the chance. The lust-filled ache in her gut and the desire to touch him hadn’t dimmed either. His skin was soft and smooth and flecked with white paint. She didn’t need to make her voice sound sexy, it just was. ‘Bedroom or lounge?’

‘Right here.’ Clearly ready for action, he started to lower her onto the stairs. But she pushed him away. Wriggled to standing.

‘I think I’m too old for sex on the stairs.’ Lissa would tut and sigh, but she wasn’t the one about to get carpet burns and a sore back that would interfere with her teaching. Taking Ben’s hand, Charlotte tugged him up the first step, her free palm scraping over his cop-short buzz cut, feeling the rough softness under her fingertips. He was a man of opposites; fun and serious. Sport-fit and focused and yet happy to laze away whole afternoons on the sofa watching action movies. Loved to eat, but hopeless at cooking. She met his gaze and her stomach purred, low and hot. ‘Bed or shower?’

‘Bed. No… shower. Hot. Wet. Nice.’ His hands went to cup her face but she drew back.

‘Wait! You’ve got paint on you. Look – still wet.’

‘In that case…’ His eyes brightened and he pressed a paint-covered hand over her black lycra top, over her left breast, and squeezed. ‘Gotcha!

‘Ben!’ But she couldn’t help laughing as she looked down at the white fingermarks. ‘This is – this was – my good teaching top.’

‘Well, let’s take it off then.’

‘Oh… if you insist.’ She tugged it over her head and laughed as he kissed her neck, his breathing getting harder, and faster. ‘Bed? Or shower, Benny boy?’

‘Hmmm… too tough to call. Wow. Such life and death questions. Too hard… You know… if someone held a gun to my head and asked me to choose… I’d have to say…’ He backed her against the stairs again, pushed his hand under her bra and pressed a kiss to her cleavage. ‘These two beauties are my absolute favourite part of you. Perfect… Juicy… Not sure which I love the most; left or right—’

‘Be serious. One minute… these stairs hurt. Okay. I’ve decided. Bed it is.’ She pushed him away and ran up to the bedroom, then jumped onto the bed.

He was two steps behind her, wiping his hands down his jeans until he was convinced they were dry. Then he climbed onto the bed next to her.

‘Hell, Charlie, I am serious. About you. About the wedding and making a home, for us. I’ve never been so damned serious about anything in my life.’ He slid his mouth over hers. For a few moments she was lost in him, in them, as he murmured, ‘I can’t wait. I love you… I want you. Every bloody day.’ Like a pro he unclipped her bra, cupped her right breast as he kissed her harder, then pulled away, breathing fast and looking at her with seriousness and mischief in his eyes. ‘I hate night duty. I hate missing you, thinking of you sleeping here without me. Thinking of all the things we could be doing instead of pounding the bloody streets and arresting some stupid prick for DUI.’