Delectable (Sinclair Bryant)

Ifs, Buts and Maybes

Sian let her fingertips swim through the steamy, lavender scented bath water, the bubbles gathering over her knuckles as she did so. She took note of her naked body, still holding on to the traces of their love making with hues of pinks and purples. She had not felt so relaxed in months.

Sinclair sat behind her, cushioning her back with his chest whilst encompassing her legs with his own. He nuzzled a still somewhat tender face into the side of her neck, tracing her delicate skin with the end of his nose.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked into her ear, as he planted kiss after kiss around her neck. His hands caressed her bath slicked stomach, holding her as close as possible.

Maybe this was too good to be true, he thought, maybe he would wake up from this dream, alone in his shell of an apartment, soon enough.

"Not at all...well, not in a bad way anyway," she flirted back. She could not deny that she had thoroughly enjoyed his eager need for her.

Sinclair chuckled into her ear, nibbling behind it, dream or not, he was enjoying his moment in the sun. "Cheeky."

All the flirting in the world couldn't silence their thoughts though. In their own way, neither could forgive themselves because this is what they could have been doing for the last seven months. If only they hadn't been so afraid of the consequences of complete honesty. If only.

They sat with those regrets in the steamy bathroom for a while, whilst outwardly they enjoyed the feel of each other. Tender touches and unspoken emotions.

"Soooooo...the million dollar question," Sian began, interrupting their quiet.

"What's in France?" she asked, playing with the water awkwardly, thinking they may as well get the conversation over with as soon as possible. After all, they were short on time.

"A vineyard," he answered, his voice touching on hardness. Sinclair didn't want to think about it, he just wanted what was lying so contentedly in his arms.

"That...seems oddly you, actually," Sian expressed sincerely. She was almost relieved, in fact, knowing that Sinclair would strive in something a bit more freeing. No longer confined to an office in the city.

Sinclair chuckled into her ear, "Perhaps...but it wasn't my idea."

"No?"

"No. My father's latest business venture. He's been trying to get me to partner with him on something for a while...when he brought up the vineyard after Christmas..." Sinclair stopped, taking his hand from Sian's stomach and resting it on the side of the white bath.

"Sinclair," Sian twisted her head to see him, his face sullen, his amber eyes focussing deeply on the condensation that dropped down the blue tiled wall ahead, "you can say it."

He swiped his tongue over his top lip, producing a frown into his brow.

"I'm not sure why at 78 he's bought a vineyard really, except the money...but he wanted someone there to make it work. He's too old to be out  in the heat dealing with pickers and the actual running of the business, so...I saw it as...as a good escape. He asked and I couldn't think of a reason...at the time, to say no." He looked down at Sian, knowing she'd have been the reason to decline the offer at the time - if things had been different.

Sian smiled reassuringly, then kissed his damp lips, trying to soften his frown. Though she couldn't comprehend him leaving, or how that would have her feeling; she was strangely happy for him.

"It sounds exciting...much more...I don't know," she shrugged, placing her hand on top of his, "suited to you. I don't ever think you were meant to be crunching numbers behind a desk all day."