Look Back at Me (Fleckney Fields Series, Book 1)

It's Saturday

Author's Note:

Are we ready, my darlings? <3 This is 1 out of 2. Don't miss the second half of today's update - and buckle up for a ride! :)

Hope you enjoy!

Love,

K. xx

***

"Morning," he boomed.

She'd forgotten his voice - or to be more precise, the effect it could have. His eyes ran her body, and she felt heat spill on her cheekbones. Damn her pale skin!

And then she saw the exact moment when he recognised her.

"Viola?"

Suddenly his shocked face seemed so funny to her that all her embarrassment - from flashing her ex-husband with lashings of her bare skin - seemed to evaporate. Viola snorted.

"Did you expect someone else?" she asked.

"I didn't expect anyone," he grumbled. She knew - had known - him well enough to catch the uncertain expression hiding in his eyes. He stepped into the kitchen and pulled his jacket off. "What are you doing here?"

"Making tea," she answered, pressing her lips to suppress a smile. He threw her a quick exasperated glance. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Maisie said Nana wasn't feeling well, and that she needed me to come to take over."

What sort of a game is Maisie playing?

"When did she say that?" Viola said sharply.

"A few days ago," he said. "I was away on site, and came back as soon as I could."

"Ah." Viola laughed quietly. "Well, since then, I came to visit - and stayed. You probably didn't answer Maisie so she assumed you weren't coming."

"Why would she assume I wasn't–" he started and then nodded in realisation. "Because I didn't answer."

"Because you didn't answer," Viola said at the same time. "Although you never do, so I can't see why she would expect you to."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he said in a dark tone and furrowed his eyebrows.

She remembered how apprehensive she used to be of these frowns of his. Would you look at that, it only took you ten years to stop twitching and looking for a way to fix his mood.

"I'm sorry," she said innocently. "I should have phrased it better. You used to never answer texts or emails. Perhaps, it has changed since we last communicated via digital written means."

He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. Ah, this expression's familiar too. This is Rhys Holyoake's 'we are not amused' expression. The kettle whistled, and she turned away from him to take it off the hob.

"How long are you staying for?" he asked behind her in an irked tone.

Stop thinking about the fact that your vest is pretty much see-through and how tightly these trousers are hugging your backside, Viola. He doesn't care. Why should you?

"I don't know yet," she said. She opened a cabinet and realised the shelves were full of spices and condiments. "Where are the mugs?"

Instead of him answering, she felt his presence very close to her - and she twirled on one spot and winced away from him. Suddenly it was hard to take a breath. He was massive. She'd quite forgotten that. And his smell. Apparently his taste in scents hadn't changed. She caught the same cedar or pine or some other of those 'manly' fragrances. She stared at his face. The beard was new - full, thick and somewhat unkempt. All those years ago he had occasionally let it grow, claiming shaving was too much aggro, but it had been more of a stubble then. He knocked at one of the cabinet doors with his knuckles, his eyes intent on her face.