Page 27 of Coming Home to Roseford Villas
Leo propped himself up on one elbow, and his expression showed how fascinated he was by what Rory was saying. ‘So, you’re still dead set on using the contemporary story that’s kind of about us, then?’
Rory paused. ‘Oh, I haven’t got my head around it all yet. You know how it is when you’re trying to pin down an idea.’ She didn’t quite feel comfortable discussing that part of the story further with Leo. Something told her that she needed to have it straight in her own mind before she presented it to him.
‘Well, I’d love to hear about it when you’re ready to talk it over.’ Leo smiled. ‘I always told you that you should be a writer, back when we were in school. It’s wonderful to see that finally starting to happen.’
Rory shook her head. ‘I’m a long way offbeing a writer,’ she said, making quotation marks in the air with her hands. ‘I mean, what I end up with might not be any good.’
‘I don’t think you really believe that, or you wouldn’t have given yourself so much time this summer to work it all out,’ Leo replied. If he could express things with so much clarity and certainty, Rory thought, she could see why he’d been so good at the law. He was certainly persuasive.
‘Well, I guess it’s now or never, really,’ Rory said. ‘I mean, the time just felt right, you know.’ She grinned and made jazz hands in the air this time. ‘Perhaps it was written in the stars! I mean, who knew I’d come to Roseford and find you again?’
Leo pulled her close once more. ‘Well, something was in play,’ he said huskily. ‘I don’t really believe in fate, and stuff being written in the stars, but whatever it was that brought me back to you, I’m so glad it did.’
Rory luxuriated in his closeness again. She remembered how desperately she’d clung to every last second with him, the first time around. How every kiss, every touch, every sentence they spoke mattered. It was partly the intensity of first love, she knew that, and now they were together again, it had more of the feeling of a holiday romance, but she was increasingly reluctant to get out of bed and get back to the real reason she was here.
‘I’m glad too,’ she said softly. She kissed him again, long and lingeringly. ‘And I hope, no pressure, that at some point, if you’re ready, we might… you know.’
Leo smiled. ‘I’d like that, too. At the moment, if I was fifteen, I’d be high fiving myself for having a beautiful, naked woman in my bed, but as an adult, I’d like more.’
‘Well, we’re on the same page, then,’ Rory said, and kissed him again. ‘But, speaking of pages, I’ve got some to write. And you’ve got some ground to make up with Mr and Mrs Cross when they come back for the evening. Not to mention some other guests, I’d imagine, now RoseFest has started. So, we should probably get up and get on with what we’re supposed to be doing.’
Leo groaned. ‘If you say so. But can I see you later?’
‘I’d like that. Dinner at mine?’
Leo looked wary. ‘I don’t know how great the oven is in the chalet, to be honest. How about I bring something round?’
‘It’s a deal.’ Rory reluctantly prised herself out of Leo’s arms and grabbed her clothes. ‘I’ll see you later.’
The sight of Leo, still reclined in the rumpled bed, tousled dark curls falling over his forehead and eyes regarding her with a lustful stare, almost made Rory change her mind. But she knew she needed a few hours to come back to earth and have a good think. Things were moving very fast, and she needed to take a breath and remember what had brought her here to Roseford in the first place.
29
Rory, returning to the chalet, showered and settled down for a few hours on the manuscript. She’d loved being with Leo, but she needed to focus on the real reason she’d come here. She grabbed her notes from the Roseford Hall archives and started work, fleshing out the story of the growing relationship between her two fictional historical protagonists, and giving them the voices that had been singing in her head ever since she’d decided to write the story. It was a relief to have the distraction from what was going on in her romantic life.
But now wasn’t the time to be thinking about Leo. She had a book to write, and plenty of things to write about. Grabbing a cup of coffee, she settled back down to the table, and before she knew it, she’d written two chapters of the historical story, words flying from her fingertips. She felt the ebb and flow of the ideas as she worked, teasing out the subtleties of her characters, and drawing upon her research where she could. After another hour she was satisfied, and saved her work.
As she shut her laptop, her stomach growled. She realised she’d basically been surviving on cake and pastries and decided it was definitely time to do some shopping. The chalet had adecent-sized fridge and an ice box, so she locked up and set out for the nearest supermarket.
Having taken a lightning trip to the supermarket in the early evening and restocked the chalet, she buckled down to work again. She felt her fingers falling into the now accustomed routine of typing, and the words flying from her brain and onto the screen. This time, she focused on telling the contemporary love story, and spent an hour or so alternately smiling and wincing over the collection of photographs that she’d tucked into one of her diaries. The vibrant yellow Von Dutch T-shirt and low-slung cargos she rocked in one snapshot made her wince, although she had to confess that Leo had looked great in a David Beckham-esque pairing of dark blue scruffy Diesel T-shirt and baggy jeans.May Y2K fashion never rear its head again, she thought, noting the pink velour leisurewear her best mate from school wore in another picture. Some looks deserved to be consigned to history.
Before she knew it, dusk was falling. Her phone pinged with a message, and she smiled to see it was Leo, asking if it was all right to come over. She was pleased that he asked permission and didn’t just land on her doorstep. The fact that she was living at the bottom of the garden and was his tenant for the summer could potentially prove awkward, but it was a good sign that he respected her space. Texting a quick ‘Yes,’ she just about had time to brush her hair and squirt on a bit of deodorant before there was a knock at the door.
‘Hi,’ he said softly. He was brandishing a bottle of fizz, and he set it down on the table as she opened the door. In his other hand he was carrying a thermal bag, which he also put on the table. ‘It’s alcohol free, but the best one the West Country can claim.’
‘Sounds perfect,’ Rory replied. ‘I really do need to keep my wits about me if I’m not going to lose my momentum while I’m writing.’
‘How’s it going?’ Leo asked.
Rory took down a couple of glasses from the cupboard and watched as Leo popped the cork and filled them.
‘Not bad,’ Rory said. ‘I feel like I’m getting into the story, now, which helps. How were Mr and Mrs Cross? Did you see them to apologise?’
Leo looked sheepish. ‘I did,’ he said. ‘And I’ve knocked this morning’s breakfast off the bill and given them a complimentary bottle of wine by way of compensation. I think it’s what Aunt Vi would have done, not that she’d have missed breakfast in the first place!’
‘I feel kind of responsible for that,’ Rory replied. ‘I mean, I’m sure if I hadn’t distracted you…’
Leo paused in the act of filling the glasses and straightened up, sliding an arm around her waist. ‘I was more than happy to be distracted by you,’ he murmured, beginning to kiss her neck. ‘And I rather hope you might distract me some more, if I earn that right tonight with what I’ve brought us for dinner.’
