Page 30 of Love in Tune

Honey’s hands were still begging to reach out and touch him, so she turned back to the stove and stirred the sauce. It looked amazing, easily the best thing she’d ever made, which admittedly wasn’t difficult given her limited repertoire.

‘Robin won’t see my pants, just so we’re clear.’

Hal laughed. ‘How do you expect him to make you orgasm if you insist on keeping your pants on?’

‘Piss off, Hal. This whole stupid idea is destined to fail, because for one I don’t have sex with strangers, and for two, as everyone and his uncle seems to know, I don’t orgasm.’

‘Well, it’s not because you’re frigid. I can tell you that much and I only kissed you briefly. In fact, you wanted sex with me and I’m practically a stranger.’ He shrugged. ‘Don’t discount Robin too soon, that’s all I’m saying.’

You kissed me too briefly, she thought, taking a mouthful of wine and remembering how his kiss felt.

‘I never said I was frigid, and you’re not a stranger, Hal,’ she said softly.

‘No? What am I then?’

He was definitely flirting, and it frightened her. She’d lost him for days after the last time they’d strayed over this line, so why on earth Honey said the thing she said next was anyone’s guess.

‘You’re my neighbour. And my friend. And the only man who’s ever touched me and made me think that I might be able to orgasm after all.’

For a few moments the air between them sizzled hotter than the pan on the stove.

Honey lost her nerve and broke the silence first.

‘How long should I let this cook for?’

Hal’s breath left his body in a strangled hiss and he coughed a little to clear his throat before he spoke.

‘Low and slow is the rule with food like this. Leave it to do its magic for a good couple of hours. It’s even better if you can cook it the day before you eat it.’

The way he’d muttered ‘low and slow’ caused Honey’s stomach to perform low and slow somersaults.

‘So how come you’re such an expert on bolognese?’ she asked, aiming to lighten the conversation. His brooding silence implied that she may have got it wrong. Eventually, he shrugged.

‘I’m not an expert. Not anymore.’

She swallowed, sensing him open and then close, clam-like. ‘But you used to be?’

‘I used to be lots of things. Now I’m just your miserable neighbour who taught you to make bolognese so you don’t burn the house down on Friday.’

He’d opened up the line of conversation about his previous life, and then neatly shut it down. A win, and then a lose. Honey noticed and didn’t push him, but all the same she hoped the day would come when he let her in closer.

‘Will you ever let me live the bacon incident down?’

‘Probably not.’ He slid from the stool and stood up. ‘I should go. You’ll be alright on your own with that now.’

‘Stay and eat it with me?’

He shook his head and drained the last of the wine from his glass. ‘It needs hours. If I stay, we both know you won’t be able to avoid talking about that kiss again.’

Honey laughed softly, relieved he’d made light of it. ‘Stop bringing it up then. I can’t even remember it.’

He smiled, one of his rare, real, gorgeous smiles that melted her knees and made it hard to stay upright.

‘Good to know,’ he said. ‘Me neither.’

‘Then we’re cool,’ she said, watching him leave and wishing he’d stay. He turned back as he opened his own door.

‘Remember the rules, Honeysuckle. Low and slow.’

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