Page 29 of Love At First Fright
“Here,” she said, handing him the binoculars. She didn’t pull the cord over her head, so Ellis had to stand even closer to her, their arms pressed together. Their fingers brushed, sending an electric jolt straight through Ellis. This close, with Rosemary tucked into his side, and the memory of her waist under his hands from that time on the stairs, well…it was enough to get a man going. Ellis squatted down slightly as he held up the binoculars.
“What am I looking for?” he whispered. Instead of a reply, he felt her fingers on the scruff of his jaw, tilting his head in the direction she wanted him to look. Screw it, he had a full hard-on now.
“Just there, do you see it?” Rosemary whispered, and she was so painfully close, her breath warm on his cheek, that if he turned his head even an inch, he could capture her lips with his.
Just then, Ellis spotted it in the conifer tree. A tiny bird, with a round stocky build. Almost spherical, really. Its feathers were mostly a camouflaged greyish brown, but on top of its head, edged in black, was a bright slash of sunny yellow. He recognised it as a goldcrest, which he only knew because he googled the birds he spotted eating from the feeder in his garden. But from the reverent way Rosemary had inhaled when she’d seen it, her eyes going all glassy, Ellis decided he would play dumb.
“What is it?”
“A goldcrest. Isn’t it cute! So tubby.”
He passed her the binoculars so she could have a final look. “Very cute.”
Rosemary let go of the binoculars and grinned at Ellis. “I’m going to add that one to my book.”
For a moment, Ellis gave in. He let his gaze rove over Rosemary, taking in the dimples of her cheeks, the pattern of freckles across her nose, and the golden brown of her eyes. He would need to find a new word to describe her, beautiful didn’t cut it.
“You have leaves in your hair,” Ellis said.
Rosemary ran a hand through, picking out one of…many. “Did I get it?”
“Not quite. Turn around, let me take care of it.”Let me take care of you,he thought.
Rosemary pivoted on the spot, and stood still as he ran his hands through her hair, removing all the stray leaves. At one point he almost thought he heard her let out a quiet whimper as his knuckles grazed the back of her neck, but he must have been mistaken.
“Did you spot any others this morning, before I came clomping by?”
“A couple of chubby little robins, they’re my favourite,” she whispered, as if the birds singing above them might take offence if they heard, “and a coal tit. Not to be confused with a long-tailed tit, though they do look very similar.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Ellis laughed. “You must have had to research English birds before you came over then?”
“A little. I used to live in the UK, back when I was in college. Sometimes I dragged my friends Dina and Immy out to Richmond Park to go watching. Last time I was here, it was for Immy’s wedding, and we were at this big old house in the country. I spotted a lot of starlings.”
Ellis listened to the way her voice lit up as she described seeing a starling murmuration, and he was struck again with the feeling that he had never met anyone quite like Rosemary Shaw.
“How did you get into bird-watching?”
“My nana was a big birder when she was alive. Always taking me out around the neighbourhood to see what birds we could find. And I get”—she chewed her lip—“I get a little anxious sometimes. Just about general life things, social events, normal stuff. I guess bird-watching reminds me of a simpler time when all I had to do was walk around the park spotting birds.”
“It calms you.”
“Yeah. You have to listen out for their calls and guess their subspecies from their plumage, so it’s pretty hard to think too much about what else is worrying you.”
“Damn, maybe I should get into bird-watching. I suppose my equivalent is taking Fig out for walks, or tending to myvegetable patch. As a gardener, I do have a slight vendetta against pigeons,” he admitted.
“Not pigeons! Everyone is so mean to them, but did you know it’s all our fault? Humans domesticated them and now they don’t know how to return to normal bird life. We turned them into the little scavengers they are now.”
“I never thought of that.”
“See, you can’t hate them anymore now. You garden then?”
“Yeah. A little,” Ellis said, a touch embarrassed. He never really spoke to anyone about his gardening. “I have a vegetable patch and potted herbs in my greenhouse, and I have a little bee garden, too.”
“That’s lovely, Ellis.”
Rosemary turned around to face him, and Ellis dropped his hands to his sides. It was either that, or take Rosemary in his arms.
In unspoken agreement, they began walking back to the Gatehouse together. Ellis let Fig off the lead again, throwing a stick across the field and sending her bounding off after it.
