Bound by Their Pregnancy Surprise
Author
Louisa Heaton
Reads
17.8K
Chapters
11
CHAPTER ONE
HE THOUGHT HE’D be alone.
He wanted to be alone. It was what he was used to, after all, and he was comfortable in his own company, so to come up here, to Rookery Point, and to find someone else was parked up here to watch the meteor shower? He kind of felt annoyed and intrigued. Annoyed that he’d probably have to get through an hour of inane, awkward conversation with a stranger, but also intrigued as to who it would be. It could be someone from the village. From Burndale. But he really didn’t know of anyone else who was interested in the stars.
Archer didn’t recognise the car. An old four-by-four with a large dent in the rear bumper. Switching off his own headlights, he killed the engine and looked up to the point and saw the silhouette of a woman, sitting on a blanket of some sort, whilst she fiddled with a small telescope. A stranger, then. But how did she know of this place? Not many people did, unless they were locals. He saw her turn to look at him, but he couldn’t see her face because of how dark it was, though he thought he could tell she had long blonde hair.
It was the perfect night for staring at the sky. It was clear and cloudless. No breeze. The heat of the day still hanging on, so he only wore a tee shirt and jeans, though he did have his jacket in the car if it got cooler.
He got his own telescope out of the boot. His camera. Wondering if he ought to set up far away from this woman on her own, so as not to be intimidating, or whether he should just say hi, introduce himself and set up right beside her. He didn’t want to be rude, so he decided he’d say hello, gauge how talkative she wanted him to be and then decide, so he began to hike up the hill towards the top. There was a small trail between the trees and he ducked to avoid branches and brambles and then he was passing Malcolm’s memorial bench. Malcolm Campbell. Halley’s father. This had been his spot. Where he’d stare at the stars, too.
Archer paused to stare at the words etched into the wood.
Dedicated to the memory of Malcolm Campbell Husband. Father. Dreamer.
He swallowed hard. He’d wanted so much to be able to go and speak to Halley after it happened. To tell her he knew what it felt like to not have a dad. That she’d be okay. But he never could. She hadn’t really known Archer even existed! They’d not moved in the same social circles at school. He’d been this weird, gawky kid with glasses and an air of neglect, whereas she had been...well...a goddess. Beautiful. Popular. Adored by all! He remembered sitting in the back of the one class they’d shared and staring at her beautiful hair, wondering what it might feel like to touch it. But he’d simply never had the nerve to tell her anything. Not even a hello, never mind a Hey, you’ll be okay, you know. He’d not had a dad either.
He cleared his throat as he approached, just to let her know he was getting closer.
She stood up. Turned. ‘Hey.’
And the moonlight lit her face.
Archer stopped in his tracks, heart pounding, not sure his voice box would work, but... ‘Halley?’
She stared back at him, confused. ‘You know me?’
‘Er...yeah, I do... I mean...we went to...’ He laughed, unable to believe that this was happening. Meeting the girl he’d loved from afar, for all those years, never believing he would ever have the chance to talk to her, ever, and yet...here she was. In this place. Of all places. On this night. Because she’d left the village. Gone to Scotland apparently, vowing never to return. ‘Archer. Archer Forde. We shared a class once. Science. We dissected a frog. Well, you dissected it and I watched and barely spoke because you were you and I was just a...’ He laughed nervously again and held out his hand in greeting. ‘I work in the veterinary surgery in Burndale.’
She frowned as she took in all the information he’d just launched at her, but she reached out to shake his hand. ‘I remember that frog, but I don’t remember...’ Now it was her turn to laugh nervously. ‘You don’t look anything like the kid I dissected it with.’
‘Well, the years have been kind. Glasses got switched for contacts. Grew a bit. Fixed the teeth. Found a decent barber to tame the hair.’
‘I can see that.’ She smiled warmly, almost shyly, and it was as if his heart exploded in his chest and all the feelings he’d ever had for this girl came rushing back.
Archer had been the perfect angsty teen watching Halley from afar and dreaming what it might be like for her to notice him and be his girl. But which boy at that school hadn’t?
Halley had been the most popular and most beautiful girl there and her life had seemed as golden as her hair. She lived on a children’s farm, so was surrounded by cute bunnies all day when she was at home. She had an older sister, Hillary, who was cool and clever and admired by all and they had a good relationship, so Halley knew all the older kids, too.
She knew how to wear the school uniform with her own touch of style and made it look good. She could sing like a lark, she got all the lead roles in the school plays, but she wasn’t just beautiful, she was smart, too. Her hand was always up first to answer the questions. She did well on her tests and her exams. She loved to read and Archer could remember her sitting on the low wall at school some lunchtimes, with her face stuck in a book, her lips moving slightly as she read.
Halley’s life had been amazing until her dad died when she was fifteen. In those weeks she was away from school, he’d wondered how she was. If it would be wrong of him to write her a letter, maybe? Only he’d never been brave enough and so he hadn’t. And when she’d come back to school? She’d been different. Less sparkly. A little subdued. But he’d still loved her from afar.
‘I didn’t know you were back in Burndale,’ he said.
‘I’m not. Well, not permanently, anyway. My mum had hip surgery and needed someone to help look after her and run the farm whilst she’s getting back on her feet. We don’t need her slipping in the mud. My sister was doing it, but she’s got kids and a full-time job, so...’
‘So you came back to help? That’s great. I mean, I’m sorry your mum hurt her hip, I knew she’d been in hospital, but... I’m glad you’re back. I’ve not seen you since—’ And he stopped talking because he felt she probably wouldn’t want him to bring up the last time he’d seen her. Standing there, in the village church in her wedding dress, staring in shock at the woman who had brought an abrupt halt to her wedding.
Was she blushing? Halley looked down at the ground. ‘Since I embarrassed myself in front of the whole village? I didn’t know you were there.’
‘I was at the back.’
‘Well, believe you me, I’m not intending to stick around and have people gossiping about me again.’ Her voice sounded odd. As if this wasn’t what she wanted at all, but she was trying to be brave about it. ‘I’m going to work the farm, help Mum and then, when she’s better, I’m out of here. Back to Edinburgh.’ Again, she tried to make Edinburgh sound as if it was her safe place, her home, but her voice was strained.
‘Edinburgh? That’s where you’re living?’
‘Living. Working.’
‘What do you do?’
‘I’m a trained veterinary nurse, actually, so, same industry as you.’
A veterinary nurse? He wished he had a vacancy at the practice so he could hire her, but they didn’t. The only vacancy he’d filled lately was one of partner. Max had retired and now an old college friend, Jenny, was going to join him.
‘That’s great!’
She nodded and an awkward silence descended.
‘So, I guess your sister is watching your mum right now?’
‘Yes. They both knew how much I wanted to come and see this.’
These were the most words he had ever said to her, and he knew he had so many more trapped inside him that he could never say to her. Could never say to any woman, but especially not her. Sticking to the obvious seemed better. ‘So, you’re here to watch the meteor shower?’
She nodded. ‘I am. You?’
‘Yeah. Would you mind me setting up next to you?’
She smiled. ‘Not at all. It’ll be nice to have the company.’
Watching the meteors skim the surface of the Earth’s atmosphere was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in this world. There was just something magical about sitting there and staring up at the sky and feeling that sense of wonder. Of watching something leave a glittering silver trail of sparks in the darkness. A brief moment of beauty in the dark. It made Halley realise how all her concerns were just so petty. How little they actually mattered.
When she’d first left, she’d not wanted to return to Burndale ever. This village simply reminded her of all the terrible things that had happened in her life. All the heartbreak and the humiliation and the longer she could stay away from it, the better! But then Mum had had her fall, slipping in mud on the farm, and Hillary had called to say she couldn’t cope on her own and it wasn’t fair and that Halley had to come back and take on her share of the caring responsibilities. The farm was getting neglected and it needed work and Hillary couldn’t do it.
‘I’ve got the twins to look after and Stephen’s on the oil rig for at least another three months! Please, Halley! Come home. Mum would love to see you, and you know how to look after those animals better than me, anyway. You’re trained and qualified. You’ve got the knack. You always have.’
There had never been a knack. Hillary had just always preferred different things. The finer things that didn’t include muck and manure and birthing baby animals in the middle of the night.
Halley had loved all of that, but, more than watching baby goats being born, she’d enjoyed the hours in the middle of the night that she’d shared with her dad, watching it happen. That was their special time. Just her and her dad, whilst Mum and Hillary slept. She’d get up and don her coat and wellies and they’d sit and talk in the barn, whilst waiting for a labouring mother to do her thing.
But if only I’d noticed the pain he carried. Why didn’t I? Why do I never see the truth in people’s hearts?
Suddenly, three or four meteors skimmed across the sky. ‘Wow! Beautiful.’
Halley turned and smiled at Archer. He certainly was. Nothing like the boy she remembered from the frog dissection, who’d been quiet and gangly, with a wild mass of frizzy, blond-brown curls. The boy who’d hardly ever been at school, if she remembered him correctly. Now why was that? She couldn’t quite remember.
Now his light brown hair was tamed. Short. His eyes sparkling. Jawline square. A short, trimmed beard. He was cute! More than cute. The type of guy who she would let buy her a drink in a bar. A guy who was so easy to talk to. As though she knew him. Which, she guessed, she kind of did.
Why don’t I remember much about him?
‘You know I used to come up here with my dad?’
He nodded. ‘Is that why you had the bench put up here?’
‘Yeah. He used to love showing me the stars. Pointing out Orion, the constellations, telling me how they got their names.’
‘I used to clamber out onto the flat roof of our house and stare at the stars.’
‘Your parents didn’t do it with you?’
‘No. I never knew my dad and Mum was always too sick. Whenever I needed a break from her, or my little brother, I’d go out there, if the sky was clear, and look up. I didn’t get a telescope until I was fourteen. I saved for it, bought it second-or third-hand with my own money after I took on a paper round.’
She nodded, trying to recall if she remembered him. But she couldn’t see him at all. ‘Did you whizz around the village on a bike?’
‘I never had a bike.’
‘Never? Whereabouts in the village did you live?’
‘Opposite side to you. On Crab Apple Lane?’
She didn’t say anything about how he knew where she lived. Most people knew she grew up on Campbell’s Children’s Farm. Crab Apple Lane was located on the other side of the village.
‘I guess we moved in different circles?’
‘We most certainly did.’
‘We don’t now,’ she said with a smile. ‘You work with animals. So do I. You like gazing up at the universe. So do I. You’re here on Rookery Point. Alone. With me.’
‘Yeah.’ He looked at her so wistfully then, she felt something hit her squarely in the gut and she realised, with shock, that it was utter lust overtaking her. Whether that was because of the way he looked, or the romantic nature of having stared at the stars together, or because they were alone, up here, on blankets on Rookery Point...or because she’d not been with a guy for so long and felt a primeval urge to do something stupid and reckless, she didn’t know. But she did know she was having the feelings with him looking at her the way that he was.
He liked her, too. She could tell. But this could be all kinds of dangerous unless she took control of it.
‘Are you single, Archer?’
He stared back. ‘I am.’
‘So am I.’
He continued to meet her gaze, trying to read her intentions.
‘You know, it strikes me that we could take advantage of this unique situation.’
Archer looked a little flustered. ‘What did you have in mind?’
She smiled, unable to believe she was going to propose such a thing, but she believed in making her own luck. Grabbing at life when it was offered, because you never knew when you might get a chance ever again. ‘Like I said, we’re here alone. On blankets. It’s a beautiful night. We’re both single. Some might say this is romantic...’
‘What would you say?’ he asked, his voice low.
‘I’d agree, but... I’m not looking for romance, just so you know. I’m not looking for a relationship. I don’t do those—’
‘Neither do I.’
‘But...’
‘But?’ He was staring intently at her, his bright sparkly eyes now dark and dangerous.
‘What do you think to the idea of a kiss? A kiss between two relative strangers who’ve met on a hill beneath the stars, in a one-time-only deal?’
‘A kiss?’ His voice had changed. Grown more husky. She liked it. She liked it a lot.
‘A kiss. Nothing more.’ She smiled at him, wondering what he might taste like, this boy she had once known, yet forgotten about. This boy she had dissected a frog with. This boy who had grown into a fine, handsome figure of a man, who she knew liked her a lot. Someone she suddenly wanted to play with.
Why not do something crazy? She’d always stuck to the rules! Always behaved! And look how that had worked out for her. She’d done what was expected and had had it thrown in her face. Why not do the unexpected? Why not be crazy? Just this once? Kiss him as if she knew him, knowing she’d never have to see him ever again? There was no way she could stay in Burndale. She was here on reprieve. For a few months. Nothing more. What was the risk? It was fun. Just fun. And it had been a long time since she’d had any fun. It might make her time here in Burndale bearable. If she saw him. In the street. A fleeting glance. The memory of what they’d done up here... A secret. Just between the two of them...
‘Just one kiss...’ he said, as if taking his time with the idea, as if he, too, was looking for the dangers of it. As if he, too, was wondering about how crazy it would be to do something so random and out of character? Not that she could know if this was out of character for him, but she hoped it would be, because if it was a rare thing, then he’d always remember it, wouldn’t he? As she’d remember this night. Because she would.
I’ll make sure to always remember Archer Forde from now on.
She leaned in towards him, smiling, almost laughing, watching the play of emotions cross his face, their lips inches apart. He smelt good.
He wanted it. He wanted her. But there was fear. Hesitation.
And she liked that. It made her want it even more. To touch him. Taste him. To be the one with the power. The one with the control.
One kiss and then, like a fairy-tale princess, she could disappear back to her farm and never see the handsome prince ever again.
She could do that. She knew she could. She’d had years to train herself to not get attached to guys. Years to not let her silly romantic heart run away with ideas of happy ever afters and all that nonsense, because she knew now. Knew they didn’t exist. Knew they’d never existed! They were a fallacy. A trick. A trap she’d fallen into believing before and would never do so again.
But a little bit of lust? A little bit of daring and temptation? That she could deal with. Because she was making the rules and there was no way this could go wrong.
And as his lips came closer to hers, she fully believed that. Smiling, feeling as though she had won, as his mouth neared hers. And then he stopped. Millimetres away.
‘You’re sure about this?’ he whispered.
She nodded. ‘If you can keep it a secret. Can you?’
‘I can. Can you?’
‘Absolutely.’ She moved closer. ‘Why don’t you kiss me, Archer? Kiss me like you’ve never kissed a woman before.’
And so he did and the second it began, she knew, almost at once, that it was never going to be just one kiss. Because kissing Archer made her feel as if the Earth had stopped revolving. That there was nothing else in the universe but them. On this solitary hill alone, beneath the ancient stars. That all that mattered was them.
And how he was making her feel.
Because she realised, far, far too late, that she never wanted this feeling to stop.
Two weeks had passed since the night on Rookery Point and Archer couldn’t get it out of his mind. Two weeks since a kiss had become something much more. They’d left each other breathless and shocked and fastening their clothes, and though he’d wanted to call her to make sure she’d got back home all right, he’d refrained from doing so.
Nothing more can come from this, Archer. It was just this night, okay? What happened, happened. But that’s all it will ever be.
‘The one perfect night,’ he’d said with a slow smile.
‘One perfect night,’ she’d agreed. ‘Nothing more. No phone calls. No responsibility. No relationship. No falling in love.’
‘No. Definitely none of that. I don’t do that.’
He’d almost taken a step back towards her, but then she’d spoken again.
‘Nor me.’
‘Then we’re okay?’ He’d pulled his car keys from his pocket.
‘We’re okay.’
‘Good.’
He’d helped her dress and, somehow, putting her clothes back on her had been just as erotic as taking them off! Sliding her jeans back up her legs, kissing her thighs as he’d done so. Pressing his lips to her belly, before the tee shirt had slid back down. Getting to his feet and stroking her cheek and planting one last kiss on her lips, before grabbing his telescope and heading back to his car.
He’d wanted to look back. Take one last glance. Absorb her in full, before he left, knowing this was his only moment with her. A crazy moment he’d cherish for ever. Only he didn’t look back, because by then he was steeling himself. He’d got everything he’d ever dreamed of, but now it was over. They’d both agreed. Neither of them were looking for love. Neither of them were looking for something permanent. It could never happen. He’d been burned before. By her, even though she’d never known it and it had taken him a long time to get over the fact that she’d gone and left Burndale behind for good. There’d been one other woman. One other woman who he’d allowed to get close and he’d got hurt there, too. It just wasn’t worth the pain.
At work, he got to his computer and called up the screen that showed the daily appointments to get a handle on what his day might be like. Letting his gaze scan the names and the pets and the...
Halley Campbell.
She was coming here? He clicked on the note beside her name. Saw that she was bringing in a trio of elderly guinea pigs for their annual check-up.
He licked his lips, trying to decide whether he should give her to Jenny, his new vet, instead? Let her handle her? But he didn’t want to seem petulant, or childish, when he was a grown man and he ought to be able to handle one vet appointment. What would it be? Twenty minutes at the most? He could keep it professional. If she’d booked in with him and then she got here and found out she’d been handed over to Jenny, she might think he was ashamed of what they’d done, or was avoiding her after getting what he’d wanted, and he didn’t want her to think that. Because it wasn’t true. And besides, it would be an opportunity to make sure she was doing okay herself. Find out how everything was going on the farm. How her mother was doing.
See? Plenty of things for me to talk about.
Plus, it would give him a chance to look her in the eye. See her in the daylight. Become her friend as well as her vet. Technically, he had no doubt that she could do the annual health checks herself, what with her being a veterinary nurse, but the farm was a public farm. It allowed children in to handle the animals and there were various rules and regulations that needed following and that meant getting a trained vet to assess the animals annually for temperament, diseases and health, to protect everyone involved. And they needed to be signed off by a third party. Not a family member.
Halley wouldn’t be here until midday, so he could relax for a bit. He’d even get his morning break before she arrived, so that was good. He could check on how Jenny was settling in. He knew Jenny. Liked her. They’d met at college and become good friends after discovering they both were fans of James Herriot and watched all the shows and read all the books. It shouldn’t have been a surprise to find another person who aspired to be the best vet in Yorkshire, but they’d laughed over a few drinks together in college and stayed in touch ever since. So when Max, the senior partner, had declared he was ready to retire and move to Portugal with his wife, Archer had advertised and Jenny had been one of the first to reply.
It had made sense to take on his friend. He’d felt as if he’d lost a surrogate father when Max said he was leaving to emigrate. So it was good to feel as if he was gaining back someone who he felt close to. Who he knew he could work with.
‘We’ve got an emergency coming in,’ said Barb, one of the receptionists, catching his attention.
‘What is it?’
‘Mrs Timball’s cat, Felix. She thinks he’s been run over by a car. She found him in the garden this morning and says he can’t move his back legs. Feels cold.’
He nodded. ‘When she gets here, send them straight through.’
‘Will do.’
By the time Mrs Timball arrived just a few minutes later, he was ready with warming blankets and he quickly assessed the brown tabby. The cat was cold and a little wet from the morning dew of the grass, but it didn’t feel as if he had any broken bones. All the joints and hind limbs worked fine upon manipulation. It was just that the cat couldn’t move them himself, dragging them behind him like a puppet with its strings cut. Maybe this was a stroke?
‘I need to do an X-ray, a scan, some bloods. Why don’t you sit in the waiting room and I’ll fetch you when I know more?’ he suggested to Mrs Timball, who tearfully nodded, dabbing at her eyes with a white handkerchief as she returned to the waiting room.
Archer rushed the cat into the back room where the veterinary nurses were waiting and quickly and gently ran the cat through a battery of tests. X-ray. Ultrasound. Bloods. They gave Felix a shot of painkiller, just in case he was in any discomfort, but he didn’t fight them at all. He seemed, if anything, resigned to his fate. He was eleven years old. A senior cat. But not so old that there was no point in seeing if there was anything they could do.
During the examination, poor Felix soiled himself and lost his pulses in his groin. With the scan results and imaging, Archer quickly had an answer to poor Felix’s condition. He called Mrs Timball back into the examination room, where he had Felix lying on a warm, padded mat for comfort.
‘I’m afraid it looks like Felix has a spinal embolism. In cats it’s called fibrocartilaginous embolic myelopathy. On the imaging, we were able to spot a swelling and blockage in his spinal cord, causing Felix to lose control of his rear end. He’s cold because he is losing blood flow to his rear end and there is evidence of progressive spinal damage.’
‘So what do we do?’
‘I’m afraid, in these cases, euthanasia is the kindest thing.’
‘No!’ Mrs Timball began to cry, hunkering down to place her face next to her cat’s, stroking him and saying sorry and how much she loved him. She pressed her forehead to his and Felix softly closed his eyes and tried to purr. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing we can do?’
‘I’m sorry. I can give you some time with him if you wish. He’s on painkillers, so he should be comfortable if you want to call any family to say goodbye.’
‘No. It’s just me. And it wouldn’t be fair to keep him hanging on. When will you do it?’
‘We can do it straight away.’
She nodded. ‘Okay.’
‘Do you want to stay in the room? You don’t have to, if you don’t want.’
‘This cat has been by my side for everything. When I lost my husband. When I got Covid. Everything. It’s only right I stay by his side when he needs me, too.’
‘All right.’
Archer gathered the medications he would need. ‘This is pentobarbital. It will render Felix unconscious and then his heart will stop. It won’t hurt him...it’ll be like going to sleep.’
Mrs Timball nodded, tears dripping down her face as she stroked Felix, not taking her eyes from him.
‘Are you ready?’
‘Yes.’ Mrs Timball leant down and whispered, ‘I love you, Felix.’
Once he was sure she had said everything she needed to say, he slowly injected the drug. It took less than a minute. Felix’s head lay on the table and his eyes stopped focusing. Archer picked up his stethoscope and checked the heart, but it had stopped. ‘It’s done. He’s passed.’
Mrs Timball’s crying began anew and she began to tremble and shake and so he stepped around the table and draped an arm around her shoulder. ‘Can I call anyone for you?’
She shook her head. ‘No, love. There’s nobody. I’m all alone.’
‘What about a friend?’
‘No. I’m all right. I’ll be all right. Can I have him cremated? Get his ashes back?’
‘Of course. I’ll make the arrangements. Would you like to sit with him for a bit?’
She stared at her cat. ‘No. Let him go. I ought to be getting back and, besides, you have a full clinic out there, you need to use the room.’
Mrs Timball wiped her nose and eyes with her tissue, sucked in a deep, steadying breath and gave him a quick smile. ‘I’ll go. You’ll look after my boy, won’t you? Make sure he’s treated with respect?’
‘Of course. As if he’s my own.’ Archer did have his own cat. Jinx. She was a rescue moggy. Pure black, with green eyes. Black cats were often the ones left behind in rescues or rehoming centres as some people were superstitious, even today. He knew she’d been mistreated at a previous home and he’d got her when she was seven years old. After she’d sat in the rescue centre for six years, being passed by every time. Well, he couldn’t pass by, and she was the best cat. Affectionate, despite her past. A lap cat. With the loudest purr he’d ever heard.
He would treat Felix as he would treat Jinx. As he would treat any animal. With the respect it deserved. Each animal, each pet he saw in this practice was loved and beloved by its owners. They were family members and nothing less than that. They weren’t just animals.
When Mrs Timball had gone, Archer took a moment to gather himself before his next patient. He’d always known that euthanising an animal was going to be the hardest part of his job and, though he’d grown used to steeling himself so he could deal with his patient’s owner’s grief, he still always needed a minute after, to gather himself and shake off the pain and upset that he had witnessed.
This was the hard part of love. The hardest part. Saying goodbye. Love was pain. He saw it every day. He experienced it every day. Loving someone who couldn’t love you back? That hurt. Being left behind hurt. It was why he’d decided it was easier to not get involved. To stop giving his heart away for free, because every time he did, he suffered because of it and he didn’t want to do that any more. His love had never seemed enough.
And yet still, despite hardening his heart, he felt it. Every loss. Losing an animal was hard. Losing a beloved pet was difficult and he saw the love the owners had for that animal. Witnessing their pain reminded him of his own and what was waiting for him when it was Jinx’s time. He’d not wanted to get a pet because of it. Why put himself through that?
But he hated living alone and it was nice to have someone to come back home to at the end of a difficult day and animals were easier to love than people. They didn’t hurt you deliberately. They loved you. Adored you. Wanted nothing more from you than what they gave themselves. They didn’t fall out with you, or cheat on you, or deliberately go out of their way to lie to you or make you feel as if you were nothing. Or not good enough. Animals loved you for who you were and that was that. It was simple and Archer liked simple.
He scanned his list to see what was coming next. A dog with a mystery lump.
He hoped it was a simple fatty lump and nothing more.
He wasn’t sure he could deal with any more heartbreak today.
Halley sat feeling nervous in the waiting room with her box of three guinea pigs—Milly, Molly and Moo—hoping that this visit would be simple. Easy. No making eye contact with anyone. Say hello. Get the three girls their clean bill of health. Say goodbye. Smile and go.
Why on earth did I sleep with the village vet? Of all the people I could have chosen, I choose the vet when I’m going to be working on the farm!
She knew she should have thought ahead about the practicalities of such a tryst but, to be fair, her brain hadn’t been thinking of sensible things after lying on a blanket beneath the stars with Archer. She’d been thinking of other things. About how his hands looked adjusting the telescope. How square and strong they looked. How deftly he moved his fingers. His biceps and how pronounced they were. The way his bottom looked in his jeans when he stood up to stretch. He was hot. Archer Forde was delectable. No two ways about it!
And she was a woman who hadn’t been with a man for a long, long time and there was a need she’d felt to do something about that! And they were there. Together. Alone, under the stars. And it wasn’t as if they were strangers, was it? She’d known him. Once, a long, long, time ago, and yes, maybe she hadn’t noticed him, because back then he’d not been in her friendship group, but he was gorgeous, and she was a hot-blooded woman, and women had needs too, and...
You did it. It’s fine. It was allowed.
It would be fine. They’d both set boundaries. A one-night-only deal and they’d stuck to that. She’d not heard a peep from him in the last two weeks since it had happened. No annoying phone calls bothering her asking for more. No awkward texts. No emails. No gossip whizzing around the village like wildfire. Clearly he’d got what he’d wanted from such an interlude, just as she had, and that was fine.
Even if it was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.
Maybe it only felt like the best sex she’d ever had because they’d known it would only be the once? And so they’d both gone full out? Nobody normal had sex like that all the time, right?
She sighed and glanced upward at the clock in the waiting room. Each number was an animal. Twelve was a rooster, of course. One was a green snake, two was a chicken, three was a sloth, four a dog, five a starfish and so on and so on. Of course they’d have an animal-themed clock in here. Everything in here had an animal on it. The posters on the walls. The information leaflets. The stand in the corner selling dog and cat toys, treats and food.
Opposite her was Mr Knight. He’d been her headmaster at junior school. He looked old now. Silver-haired. Tired. But there was still that twinkle of mirth in his eyes as he looked down at his Jack Russell dog that lay at his feet, panting, quivering and shaking. Clearly the dog was no fan of being at the vet, either. Knight hadn’t noticed her. Or recognised her, anyway, so that was something to be grateful for. Probably something to do with the sunglasses she had on, along with the floppy hat.
She’d hoped Hillary could have brought the guinea pigs. In fact, she’d promised to. But then one of the twins had been up all night with a fever and she’d rung first thing to say she couldn’t make it over and that Halley would have to do it instead. She’d forgotten the time of the appointment and so Halley had rung to double-check and let them know that she was bringing in the guinea pigs instead. Maybe she wouldn’t even get Archer? There was a new vet that had started, apparently, or so she’d heard. Maybe she’d get her?
But then the door opened and there he stood. Looking just as handsome as he had that night. Maybe even more so, because now she could see that his eyes were a rich hazel colour and, in his pale green scrubs, he looked even more attractive than she remembered.
Her heart pounded in her chest and she felt her mouth go dry in anticipation and so she looked away from him, not wanting to let him know just how he was affecting her, because she hadn’t been expecting that.
I mean, maybe a little, because of how hot that night was, but this?
She tried to nonchalantly gaze out of the window to the street outside, but it was as if she could feel his gaze upon her and all she could think about was how his hot gaze had travelled over her semi-naked body that night and how he’d whispered against her neck how beautiful she was and she’d shivered and—
‘Miss Campbell?’
She closed her eyes. He’d said her name. She wasn’t getting the lady vet. She was getting him. Archer. A guy she’d pinned to the ground as she’d straddled him and moved faster and faster until she was crying out as literal celestial rocks grazed the surface of the sky, creating fireworks.
She gave him a curt smile, nodded, and picked up the box with the guinea pigs and strode primly past him into the examination room, glad to be away from any prying eyes in the waiting room, placing the box onto the table that she could see was still damp from antiseptic spray.
Behind her the door closed. ‘Good morning.’
The sound of his voice sent literal trembles down her spine. ‘Morning.’ She removed the sunglasses. Perched them on top of the hat.
‘Milly, Molly and... Moo?’ He smiled.
Grudgingly, she nodded. ‘I didn’t name them. They were nothing to do with me.’ She laughed, not wanting him to think she was some kind of simpleton. Her mum had named them. Not that her mother was a simpleton, either, she just picked names that she thought children would like. If children liked the names, then they felt closer to the animals. Liked them more. Wanted to adopt them. It was a business decision. Sensible even. They made a decent sideline in animal adoptions.
‘And how are they? Have you noticed any issues?’ He stood in front of her now, looking at her, but she felt unable to meet his gaze. She kept staring down at the box the animals were in.
‘Er...no. I think they’re fine. They just need their annual check-up.’
‘Okay.’
She tried to focus on his hands again as they opened the box. Inside, the guineas were huddled together in one corner.
‘And can you tell me which is which?’ He picked up the tortoiseshell one, with all the mad tufts of fur going in different directions.
‘That’s Moo.’
‘Okay, Moo, let’s take a look at you.’
As he bent down to examine the guinea pig, it gave her a moment to look at him unwatched. Unnoticed. He was tanned. As if he’d been away recently and caught the sun. He had a tiny brown mole on his clavicle, muscular forearms, and he handled the guinea pig gently and calmly, listening to its chest and lungs with his stethoscope, after examining its eyes, teeth and ears. ‘Everything seems good here. How old is she now?’
‘Erm...five years old. They’re all five, I think.’
‘Old enough for retirement?’ He looked up at her, made eye contact and smiled and it was like being punched in the gut. She felt breathless. Unsteady. She placed a hand on the examining table and tried to breathe steadily.
‘Yeah, Mum doesn’t like these ones to get handled so much now. It’s a young guinea pigs’ game, apparently.’
He smiled and began his examination of the other two.
Halley was beginning to think she could relax. He wasn’t going to say anything about that night, was he? And that was good. Because she didn’t need him to. It was easier not saying anything. It would make the next time they met even easier. If there was a next time, but she lived on a farm, with lots of animals, so the likelihood was high.
But weirdly, she was also disappointed that he hadn’t said anything. Now why was that? she asked herself. Did she want him to want her? Did she want to think that he’d been so affected by their meeting that he couldn’t get her out of his mind and wanted more? As if she were some sort of drug? A mind-altering substance that he still craved? Because that would be a bonus for her ego, right?
That’s all this is. Ego. I need to know that he was affected by that night as much as I was.
But that was all it was. Being affected.
It wasn’t anything else. Because something that good would affect you. Wouldn’t it?
‘Well, they’re all good. Milly could do with a nail trim, so shall I do that? Or are you able to do that back at the farm?’
‘Oh. I can do that, that’s no problem.’
‘Good! Okay. Then we’re done.’
‘Okay.’ She felt as if she ought to say something though. An acknowledgement? A reference to that night? Or just act as if it hadn’t happened? ‘Maybe I’ll see you around?’
‘Maybe.’ He smiled and began tapping his fingers against the keyboard to input his findings into the animals’ files on his computer.
‘Okay. Bye, then.’
A quick glance. A quicker smile. ‘Bye.’
And he continued to type.
The message couldn’t be clearer. It really had just been one night.
Just as she’d requested.
Just as he’d insisted.
So why did she feel a little disappointed?
When it was exactly what they’d both wanted?
