Little Secrets
Chapter #4
Lacy
decided that he probably didn’t have his swimming trucks with him at the
present time.
“Maybe
a swim another time?” She asked, wrapping her towel around her hair and
grabbing her dress off the lounger and throwing it over her arm.
“Did
you want to some in for a drink? Or something? Dad should be back soon.” Lacy
asked, giving Christopher a backwards glance.
Christopher
looked at her with a smile. “Of course, Miss Addington. I’d be delighted.” There was a touch of humor to his voice.
As
Lacy led the way towards the house, Christopher following behind her, she
realised that he was probably watching her and the way she walked, and that
made her blush down to her toes and gave a secret smile to the ground. She led
the way inside and dropped her dress on one of the barstools along with the
towel that had been wrapped around her head. As Christopher walked in, she made
sure to put the kitchen island in the middle of the kitchen between her and
him.
“What
do you want to drink?” She asked, keeping her voice even and level, almost
robot like. ‘Please don’t notice,’ she
thought, hoping and wishing.
“What
are you having?” Christopher replied, as equally even and level as she had
been. Then flashed her a bright smile, letting her know he was on to her.
Lacy
quickly got out two glasses, and some ice, and topped up the glasses with the
organic apple juice that had been made the day before from the garden.
“Freshly
made.” She said, handing one across to him, “Well, yesterday anyway.”
Christopher
just smiled at her and held up his glass in mock ‘cheers’ to her.
“Here’s
to you.” He said, and put his glass down, after taking a sip.
“How
do you know my dad?” Lacy asked, him, curiosity in her voice.
“Well....”
He paused, “Your dad is well known for the work he does, landscaping and things
like that. I just found him on a recommendation from one of my colleagues, and
it’s just taken off. Mostly just little things about the garden I’ve been
consulting him on, like which flowers will go best, and if the rock wall is stable
enough to plant behind it. “There seemed to be an edge to his voice; as if
daring her to ask more.
Lacy
let the subject drop and they fell into an awkward silence, drinking juice
around the kitchen island.
“Don’t
think you’re off the hook either.” Christopher’s voice intruded on her
thoughts.
“What?”
Lacy replied, startled.
“Off
the hook for me showing you around the history of this place.” Came the reply,
from a very bemused Christopher, “You haven’t been listening to a word I’ve
been saying have you?”
“What?”
There was a pause, “No....” She said, and blushed.
“Well,
I said I was hoping to show you around tomorrow,” He looked at her intently, “If
that is okay with you of course.”
“Well,
um.... I think so....” She trailed off. She had planned to go to the movie
tomorrow to see one of the new films that was on but realised that he wasn’t
asking her, he was telling her. Besides, the sooner she did it, the sooner he
would be away from a while.
He
took a step around the counter faster than she realised, caught up in her
thoughts and within seconds he was right beside her, her hands in his, pulling
her closer into an embrace. She buried her face in his shirt, and realised it
smelt nice, and his hands and arms were providing just enough pressure to keep
her still, to let her know that he was there for her, without being smothering.
“I’ll be here when you need me.” He murmured, kissing the top of her head. She
blinked hard, and her eyes swam back into focus.
“....We
can even go see the old sailing ship, and go on board if you want. I know the
man who owns it, and I can get us onboard....” He trailed off, “You weren’t
listening to me again. I can tell in your eyes.”
Lacy
was trying to keep her thoughts to herself, after realising that what she has
just experienced had just been a day-dream. He was dangerous. She wanted him,
that much was obvious, even to her; but she had to keep her distance.
“I’m
sorry.” She smiled, blushing, “My mind is somewhere else today.”
“I
hope it’s somewhere good, somewhere nice.” He said, with a twinkle in his eye.
“One
would hope.” She replied. “I don’t mean to be rude and all but...”
“But
you have to kick me out.” He finished the sentence for her, “I understand.
“Thank
you...” She said, showing him to the door, “I’m really sorry.”
Lacy
was aware of the scent of him, the same scent she smelt in her day dream, and
how much she’d felt the longing.
“Don’t
apologise. Really.” Christopher replied, looking at her. “Tomorrow, we can
either start at the museum, or down by the docks and take a sailing ship
cruise. I can show you the old lighthouse on the opposite point, and the
history of the wreckers’ around there if you want.”
Lacy
was acutely aware of the lack of clothes on her body, after all she was only
wearing her bikini, and looked at the ground.
“Lacy?
It’s up to you? Really, it is.”
What should Lacy choose? The
land based exploration of the town’s history or the more interesting sea-voyage
across the harbour and the lighthouse tales?
© Samantha Millar
Until next time,
Atra du evarinya ono varda,
(May the stars watch over you)
Samantha.