Page 31 of The Facilitator: Part 2
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Iwoke to an empty bed.I didn’t think I’d had such a good night’s sleep in a while. I was reminded of my previous evening, however, when I swung my legs too quickly over the side of the bed and felt a slight soreness between them. I smiled at the memory, and then grimaced. I was sure I would be able to think fondly of our escapades in the future, but until then, there would be a level of embarrassment at my complete abandonment to Mackenzie. Forget the fact someone was masturbating while watching, if that was to be believed. I laughed as I stood and felt for myslippers.
I could hear Mackenzie talking in the kitchen. I hesitated in case he had company, and I doubted they would want to see me in my nightwear. I had to remind myself I lived in the house. If I wanted to walk around in my rather fetching fleecy PJs, I could. I walked into the kitchen. Mackenzie was facing the French doors, looking out to the terrace. He held his mobile to his ear. He turned as he heard my slippers slap against the tiled floor, and I watched him smile atme.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and he kissed the top of myhead.
“I need to wrap this call up. My beautiful partner just walked in,” hesaid.
Without a goodbye, he disconnected thecall.
“You didn’t need to do that,” I said, reaching up on my tiptoes to kisshim.
“Yes I did, boring old fucker wanted to talk business on a weekend,” helaughed.
“Says the man who worked seven days a week at onepoint.”
“That was before you, Lauren. Now, breakfast. I’m sure you must befamished.”
I wasn’t but I let him cook me pancakes. I piled berries on top and tucked in. In fairness, I was getting a lot of exercise, outside the gym; so a few pancakes shouldn’t make me pile on thepounds.
I had never been conscious of my weight, until Scott and his betrayal. I could kick myself for letting his words affect me to the point I was bothered about my body for the very first time. It was something Mackenzie was determined tofuck out of me, he’d tell me. He got angry if he thought I was still affected, not with me, but with Scott, and he was right—I needed, I wanted—to get overit.
“Those were lovely,” I said, as I rested back. “I should go and getdressed.”
“How about a walk and then a late lunch somewhere?” Mackenzieasked.
“That would be nice, casual ordressy?”
“Casual. Let’s find a nice country pubsomeplace.”
I left him in the kitchen and headed to my closet. I selected jeans and a shirt; a pair of Converse completed thecasuallook. I pulled my hair into a messy top bun and added some bronzer and mascara to an otherwise unmade upface.
I bounded down the stairs with a thick jumper in my hand. I was ready for a nice walk in the freshair.
“I have an idea,” he said. We left the house and headed to thegarages.
“Red orblack?”
“Black.”
A beep unlocked the Aston Martin and I climbed in while he held the door open forme.
“I’m going to take you someplace I’ve only visited a couple of times andloved.”
“I love a surprisetrip.”
He reversed from the garage and we joined the London traffic. We chatted about everything and nothing. It was always so easy with Mackenzie, but I remembered a time when we’d been at cross purposes for so long. This Mackenzie, the one who loved me was so easy-going. Still a Jekyll and Hyde where work was concerned. He would switch the charm on and off when necessary or required, of course. Soon we were on the motorway leaving London far behind. It was past lunchtime when we slowed and weaved our way through some narrow roads in a throng of cars trying to find somewhere topark.
“Maybe not the best idea,” he said, with alaugh.
We followed the signs to one of the car parks and eventually found a spot after an elderly couple left. I squeezed from the car, concerned for the paintwork as the door bashed the onebeside.
The breeze along the coast was a little stronger than I expected, so I pulled my jumper over my head and threaded my arms through. Mackenzie slung his arm over my shoulder and we walked along the beach. It was a little busier than I would have liked, we had to dodge the odd football that had been kicked in the wrong direction, or a toddler running from aparent.
“There is a beach by my house in the States. I used to walk it every day, more so when my mom got sick. I want to take you there one day,” hesaid.
“Do you miss home?” Iasked.
