Page 50 of Love in Tune

‘You’re joking. Steve’s all that stands between me and starvation for the residents. He knows more than he thinks he does when he just relaxes and trusts his instincts,’ Honey said. ‘He needs a proper teacher, that’s all. He could probably become a good chef in the right kitchen.’

Hal suspected it was encouragement and support from Honey that had given Skinny Steve a boost; he’d seen it time after time in professional kitchens. Chefs made by praise and chefs broken by criticism.

‘You should trust your own instincts too, Honey,’ he said. ‘They’re good.’

She didn’t reply, no smart comeback. In fact, he couldn’t be sure, but it sounded as if she might be trying to hide the fact that she was crying. He couldn’t stop himself. He reached out and closed his fingers around the latch of his door, on the very edge of opening it.

‘Are you crying?’ he said, for want of something more tactful.

She definitely was. ‘It’s your fault. You said something nice to me and I’m bloody knackered and Skinny Steve almost ruined dinner.’

Hal processed the three bits of information, and then sighed and swung the door open. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’

He heard her snivel. ‘Yes.’

She followed him down the hall into his kitchen.

‘Should I make it?’ she asked, her voice small and laced with uncertainty.

‘Knob off. I can make tea. Go and sit down, I’ll bring it through.’

Hal made Honey a sandwich while he waited on the kettle, taking it all through and placing it on the coffee table when it was ready.

‘You didn’t have to …’ she said. At least it sounded as though she’d finished crying now.

‘Just eat,’ he said roughly, not especially proud of the chicken and brie salad sandwich he’d made her but glad to be able to offer something.

‘You make good sandwiches,’ she said after a while. ‘And nice tea.’

‘Feeling better now?’ he asked, even though her voice already told him the answer.

‘A bit. Thank you.’

‘Want some whisky?’

‘Best not,’ she laughed, and then she stopped laughing. ‘Know what I really would like, Hal?’

Danger. He could almost smell it; the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

‘Honey …’

Her hand moved to his knee, warm and firm, her fingers grazing the skin where the soft denim had split open.

‘I shouldn’t have asked you to come in,’ he said quietly.

‘And I shouldn’t have come to your door when you piss me off so much, but I did, so I guess we’re even. I can’t stay away from you, Hal.’

‘Try harder,’ he frowned, distracted by the slow stroke of her thumb over his kneecap.

She took a while to speak again. ‘I’ve been thinking about something. I have a proposition for you,’ she said, her voice brave and breathless.

He swallowed hard. ‘What kind of proposition?’

He heard her swallow even harder. Gather herself. ‘One night, Hal. No strings. No dates. One night, show me how good sex feels for everyone else.’

Fuck, fuck, fuck. How could you make your mouth say one thing when your brain really wanted to say something else? Hal couldn’t, so he said nothing at all.

‘I know you don’t want a relationship, and that’s okay because I don’t either. In fact I think we’d be bloody terrible together. I’m not asking you for romance, just sex. God knows why, but when you touch me, I feel more. More than I’ve ever felt with other men.’ He felt her shrug, as if it was a mystery to her. ‘My body likes yours, Hal.’ The break in her voice cracked his resolve, reached into the nooks and crannies of him. She’d moved nearer on the sofa, and he couldn’t move away because he wanted to move towards her instead. Instinct took the driving seat when she touched his jaw; he turned his mouth and kissed the softness of her palm. What kind of a man could refuse an offer like that? One no-strings-attached night with a beautiful, pliant woman? Especially a woman whose arms had slid around his neck, her lips a breath from his. He didn’t stand a chance.

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