Solstice Ch. 04

"But you didn't go far." He'd been less than twenty-five yards away from me when I'd arrived, standing by the iron railings outside the bank. "You were there, waiting."

He frowned again. "I know. And I honestly can't tell you why I did that. To torture myself, maybe. Make myself understand what a shit I was, standing you up. And it really was torture. You looked so lost, so beautiful, sitting there on the steps in that gorgeous yellow sundress. And you waited and waited. Much longer than I would've done."

"Well, when you weren't there at eight, I thought maybe I'd got it wrong -- that it should've been half past," I murmured, feeling an odd, sharp pain in my belly. Could I dare to hope this was leading anywhere good?

He shook his head. "You didn't get it wrong, sweetheart. I did. And when you started coming towards me, when I realised you'd finally given up on me, you seemed so sad I had to do something to make it better. So I pretended to be someone else. Someone who just happened to be there at the same time."

"Right." And then I narrowed my eyes at him. "What happened to the book of poetry?"

He smiled. "I left it on the steps of the Buttercross. I wanted you to see it so that you'd know I'd been there--I wanted you to have it. But about a minute before you arrived, this bloke saw it, had a quick look around to make sure no one was looking, picked it up and legged it."

"Oh." I giggled despite myself and was rewarded by Adam's smile widening. "Serves you right."

"You're right, it does," he agreed, nodding. "I promise to buy you another one."

My heart lurched. Did that mean what I thought it meant? "Please don't," I said, too scared to ask. "I hate poetry."

"Emma!" It was Adam's turn to laugh. "All poetry? You can't possibly mean that."

"Okay, maybe not all." I shrugged. "It's James' fault for writing me all those awful poems."

He shook his head. "That man has a lot to answer for," he muttered, his eyes darkening, his head moving towards mine...

"W-wait!" I gasped, battling a huge, pleasurable rush of adrenalin. "Th-there's still something I don't quite understand."

He paused, his lips just inches from mine. "What?" he demanded, though he was smiling.

"You could've told me. You could've told me that it was you. That you were Griff." I couldn't look anywhere but in his eyes and the sudden look of remorse I saw there made me want to cry all over again. "Why didn't you?"

"Oh Emma." He planted a kiss on the end of my nose. "I didn't have any intention of falling for you."

He'd fallen for me?

"I was just going to have dinner with you, then stick you in a taxi and send you home. I thought that would make it a win-win situation--even though you'd been stood up, you'd still have had an okay evening and I wouldn't have to feel such a shit." His lips twisted. "But I didn't want to send you home. So I suggested the walk. And I was going to tell you, when we got to the gate, only then I found I wanted to kiss you instead."

My lips tingled at the memory of that first kiss.

"After that I was worried that if I told you, it would spoil everything. Because everything was so perfect. The moon, the stars." He grinned suddenly. "All those layers of stars."

"Hey, it was hard to concentrate on a good description," I protested, blushing at the reminder of his head between my legs. He was teasing me. Again...

"Then I was going to tell you when we lying there after the sunrise. But then that bloody dog came running up..."

I smirked. "Kind of wrecked the moment."

"It kind of did, yeah." He gave a small sigh, his breath warm on my face. "And then, well. I think you already know when I panicked."

Oh yes, I knew....

He smiled. "I was looking at you, thinking how amazing you were--and I got scared. Scared that I'd got carried away. Scared that I wouldn't be able to follow through." He hesitated. "You see, I'd thought I'd never want to be with anyone again."

I nodded slowly, hardly trusting myself enough to speak. "But?"

He smiled again. "The second you went to get on that bus, I knew I wanted to be with you."

And finally, wonderfully, he kissed me, the sort of kiss where there ought to be an orchestra playing, with sweeping, swelling strings, and maybe a choir for good measure. And in all probability, it would have gone on for a lot longer and we would have gone a lot further--Adam's hands were already burrowing inside my blouse--if it hadn't been for an extremely loud knock on the door.

We sprang apart like guilty teenagers. "Fuck!" Adam muttered, barely managing to repress a snort of laughter as he took in my dishevelled state. "Whoops."

"Ssh, it's Lisa!" I hissed, my face feeling as though it was on fire, already struggling to do up my buttons. "Oh God! What do we do?"

Still shaking with mirth, Adam thrust me forwards, sprang up behind me then forced me back in the chair, spinning it around to face the window. "Come in," he called, after taking a glance to check I was hidden.

I heard the door open. "Hello?" Lisa sounded more uncertain than I'd ever heard her. "Griff, I'm sorry, but I couldn't find that folder anywhere--oh! Where's Emma gone?"

"She's still here," he said cheerily. "She's just admiring the view."

"Hi Lisa," I trilled, at last managing to fasten my blouse, patting down my hair. "It's fabulous. You can see for miles." I jumped up and stepped forward to the window, still not daring to turn around.

"Hmm." Lisa sounded decidedly unimpressed. "You get used to it after a while, believe me. So... " She paused. "You two fixed a date yet?"

I darted a panicked glance at Adam. "Actually, yes," he said, smiling at me. "You see, I'm free now. I know she was supposed to having lunch with you, but I was wondering whether you'd mind if I took her to lunch instead."

"Oh!" But Lisa didn't sound at all put out. Far from it. "Yes, of course," she gushed, the note of victory obvious in her voice. "We can get together anytime. Emma--yes--go out with him now. And give me a call tonight, okay?"

And give me all the juicy details...

"Okay," I said grinning, risking a glance at her over my shoulder. "Thanks Lisa. I owe you one."

She gave a grunt of derision. "You owe me a lot more than one." And then she was gone.

Adam came up behind me, his arms sweeping around me. "You know," he said, as I gave a sigh of pleasure, "I've spent a long time looking across at that hill this morning."

"Really?" I smiled, loving the feeling of being in his embrace.

"Mmm. You see, I reckon if we could find a good enough pair of binoculars, we could probably still see our bum prints in the grass."

"What?"

"Easy," he murmured contentedly, kissing my neck. "Way too easy..."

We called her Catherine, of course. Katie for short. And though I tell Adam repeatedly that there's no way of knowing for sure that she was conceived that morning when we were up on the hill watching the sunrise, he remains--well--adamant that there can't be any doubt about it. He says you only have to look at the colour of her hair...

I watch her now with a smile, her red-gold curls spilling across the pillow, one chubby hand resting up by her ear. Beautiful awake, even more beautiful at rest, exhausted after a busy morning playing in our garden.

"Good afternoon, Mrs Griffin."

I gasp, startled to feel Adam's arms sliding around me.

He laughs softly. "Ssh," he murmurs, peering at our fifteen month old daughter over my shoulder. "You'll wake her."

"Home for lunch again?" I whisper, not really surprised. It's the third time this week.

"Something like that." I smile as his hands begin to roam across my tummy. "Ooh. Someone's awake."

"And whose fault's that? You just made me jump."

"Aw." He chuckles again, moving around in front of me and hitching my dress up to my waist, staring at my rounded belly with undisguised pleasure. "Hey son," he says, dropping to his knees and planting a kiss just above my distended navel. "Stop beating up your mother."

We both watch as the baby squirms inside me, the taut skin of my tummy undulating with the pressure of his tiny fist. Or perhaps his tiny foot. To be honest, I'm never entirely sure.

Adam's mouth is on me again, trailing kisses in a decidedly southerly direction now, his darkening gaze lifting to mine as he reaches my underwear. And as he glances across at Katie's cot I know exactly what he's going to ask.

"How long has she been asleep?"

"An hour and a half," I say innocently, even though it's only been about ten minutes. Because the bigger I get, the more Adam seems to want me, delighting in my expanding curves. But then, it was just the same when I was expecting Katie. I sometimes think he has every intention of keeping me pregnant for the next ten years. "I was just about to wake her up actually."

"What?"

The look on Adam's face is priceless. But then I've learnt a thing or two about teasing in the last two years...

"You don't mean it," he guesses, straightening up as I start to smile. "You little minx..."

And laughing, I drop my hand into his. "Easy," I murmur, even as I lead him across the hall towards our bedroom. "Way too easy..."

Okay, yes, so I'm a hopeless romantic...

Thanks so much for reading me. I've has so much fun with these two. As before, your views, comments and votes would be gratefully appreciated.