Her Melting Point

Basic Logic

This 1 out of 2 for today's double update. 

Remember when I used to post these a lot? *sigh* Hopefully, I'll have a bit more time to write now that I'm done with a massive project at work. 

Also, this chapter was supposed to contain a civilised discussion of Jackie's past - but my characters never listen to me. 

I hope you enjoy! I sure did ;)

Cheers,

K. xx

***

Jackie thought how ridiculous it would be to fall off her bike in front of him, like every protagonist in every shoddy young adult book; and then her right foot half-slid off the pedal, shooting the familiar pain into her ankle. Jackie simply ignored it, preoccupied with getting off her metal stallion as efficiently and embarrassment-free as possible.

She took the earpods out and unbuckled her helmet.

"Morning, Jackie," Alexander said, locking his screen, and putting his mobile away to his cross-body bag.

"Morning," she said and ruffled her ginger mop. "Don't you just hate this feeling? When your hair is all flattened, and your scalp is oddly numb." She then added with a laugh, "I'm being presumptuous. I don't even know if you ride a bike."

Also, considering how healthy and glossy his dark curls were, he clearly took much better care of his locks. She'd given up on her orange springs before she'd hit puberty - which in Jackie's case, had been donkey's years.

He studied her head - paying most attention to the grey part above her forehead, it seemed to her - and then he met her eyes.

"I do ride a bike," he said. "I've got a sensory friendly helmet."

His hand flew up to his neck, probably to indicate where the strap would bother him; and he brushed the tips of his fingers on the underside of his beard. It was longer today, fuller, less like a stubble. Jackie was once again struck by the realisation of just how grown-up he was. She still half-expected to see an exceedingly long neck with a protruding Adam's apple and disproportionate, uncoordinated limbs.

Also, since she'd returned to Fleckney, from the first time they'd met in his ice cream parlour - and she'd been so discombobulated that she hadn't taken notice then - he'd been calling her Jackie! She'd been Mrs. Mair, and then Ms. Burns after her divorce, to her pupils; and Jocelyn to her colleagues. 'Jackie' had been reserved for her family and her friends - and the three men in her life who had been more than that. 

She threw him a discreet glance while unrolling her trouser leg. There was no way to correct him - and she couldn't decide whether she needed to.

"We might have to wait for Michael," she said, straightening up. "He's always on time. It's just us who are early."

He lifted his hand, and the fitness watch on his wrist lit up.

"We can go inside," he said and took a keychain out of the back pocket of his black jeans. "Let's lock up your bike in the potting shed."

"I've got a potting shed?!" she exclaimed.

"There's an outbuilding, also from 1874. One half is a shed. There are shelves and a tap. The other one's empty," he explained monotonously. "As long as you aren't disturbing the stonework, you can use it for whatever you want."

"I'm not going to disturb anything!" Jackie jabbered, dashing after him to the back of the house. "Nothing in the cottage either! It's glorious! It just has this vibe - and the cornflowers on the wallpaper! And the garden is overgrown! And I love the cricket pitch behind the garden! And my Granny's furniture will fit so well!"