Protecting Miss Dawes - a job like any other

Chapter 16: Molly

We got out of the car and he localised the key to the cottage, hidden in a pot beside the door and let us inside the small wooden house.

"If you don't mind I'll just go and get changed to something that fits me better, then I'll show you around."

"What do you mean? Are you complaining about my dad's impeccable taste? I thought a turd t-shirt was everyone's dream."

"Oh, I don't complain about the t-shirt, but I would very much like a pair of trousers that reach my ankles without me having to show off my naked arse", he smirked.

"I see."

I hoped that it was not possible to hear that my mouth suddenly got dry at the thought of his naked arse. Here I was trying to keep up the easy banter and he ruined it all by planting such images in my head. Totally unfair. It was not better when he returned really, because he looked completely gorgeous in well-fitting dark jeans and a grey pullover that seemed so soft it was probably cashmere. I had learned what cashmere was when I started in the private school. It was something very different from the acrylic knitted jumpers I had at the time. It had been a triumph when I much later purchased my own first cashmere jumper and I still had a soft spot for it, loved the feeling of high-quality wool. I had to hold myself back not to go over and pat the jumper like it was a cat or something because on him it was nearly irresistible, but it would have meant caressing him and that would have been an odd start to our stay here. He looked casual in this compared to the suits he had always worn up to now, yet amazing – and more approachable. No idea to go down that road though. Even if he had not hesitated to hold me when I was scared and had nightmares, I knew he had only touched me by mistake in his sleep. When I tried to kiss him while awake, back in the hotel room, he had made it very clear that he was not up for it. I would not make the same mistake again. One failed attempt had been awkward enough, another try here in this place where it was just the two of us would have been so cripplingly embarrassing that I did not think I would have survived it, so there would definitely not be any touching from my end or any attempts to kiss for that matter.

Blissfully unaware of my thoughts and totally relaxed he asked;

"Do you want to have a look around then? Not that it's huge, you can almost see the whole place just by standing here."

I wanted to, and it was not – huge that is. The cottage consisted of a small but functional kitchen, a living room with a fireplace, sofa, coffee table and two crowded book shelves, one bedroom with a double-bed and an ensuite bathroom. I wondered how the sleeping arrangements would be, if we would have to share the double-bed – because that would obviously have been terrible for an entire week, but as if he could read my thoughts he said;

"Don't worry, there's a sofa bed in the living room. I'll take that, and you can have the bedroom to yourself."

Oh.

"Sounds good."

It was a very cosy cottage, with a beautiful view towards the lake through the living room windows.

"Come, let's check outside too."

He took my hand to pull me with him, but the second after let go as if he had realised a mistake and instead only gestured in the direction outdoors. He seemed happy to be here, happy to share this place with me.

"Do you come here often?"

"I did for a while, when I was not feeling so well. Especially after the divorce, when things caught up with me and I realised I needed to spend time alone and deal with my past. Then I often came here, to enjoy the nature and calmness, do some fishing and think. I find it very peaceful here, but I haven't been here for some time."