Page 49 of Prove You Wrong

‘You can go up and take a look.’

‘Do I need to clip on?’ She holds up her trolley, ridiculously cute in the clunky, practical kit.

‘We don’t need that now. Let me help you.’ I reach towards her.

The bindings loosen as I work the clips. My fingers sliding under each strap, I ease it off her shoulders. I swear she smothers a gasp as I skim my hand along her warm thigh, grazing her backside, loosening off her leg fastenings. This is torture.

She leans on me to step out of her harness and once she’s steady, I lay a hand on the side of her helmet and unclip it, lifting it clear from her head. Her hair fans down on her shoulders, and she shakes it out, sending her fresh flowery scent over me.

Unhooking her head torch, I pass it to her, before leaving her discarded kit on a section of felled trunk at the foot of the tree.

Ella shines the light up the ladder, looking curiously at the structure hidden in the canopy of the tree, as I wriggle out of my gear and drop it next to hers. ‘I’m so intrigued. Shall we?’

‘After you.’ I bite down on my lip. I’m being a gentleman but I know I’m going to get a face full of her ass as she shimmies her way up the ladder.

The straining in my jeans does not make for an easy climb.

Ella’s gasp as she reaches the top is exactly whatI’d been hoping for.

However, it doesn’t help my current plight of trying not to fuck her senseless. Her happy, surprised sounds are far too similar to the sounds she made as she was coming in my mouth the other night.

I go back to thinking of aged sports pundits as I climb the last few steps of the ladder and rise up behind her.

‘Stunning view.’ She’s gazing out of the window, across a map of towns and villages sprawled beyond the treetops. ‘Where are we?’

‘This is the Birdsong Boutique,’ I say as I walk over to her. ‘The Lookout Lodge and Sunrise Sanctuary were far too tricky to reach in the pitch black.’

She giggles. ‘What?’

‘They’re going to be our luxury treehouse stays.’

Ella’s eyes widen. ‘The term “treehouse” makes this place sound a little more rustic than it is.’ She surveys the all-glass wall, which gives a vista across the county. You can forget we’re up in the hills when you’re surrounded by the tall trees of the woods. It’s only when you break canopy you get a sense how truly high up we are.

I tilt my head. ‘I sayours… ’ I continue, ‘they’re Chunk’s, really. I just help him out. He plans to set them up as summertime lodgings.’ I gesture my hand across the room, past the empty curtain rail and bare walls. ‘They’re nowhere near ready yet, but I thought we could picnic in this one after doing the ropes.’

‘I love it already.’

‘The plan is to install a bed, some small furniture, maybe some bunting and drapes.’ Ella nods along, as if imagining the finished interior.

Right now it’s the wrong season, so the space has been left empty, not wanting the stuff to deteriorate in the cold, damp winter. But, just for tonight, I’d had a rummage through Chunk’s storage, ransacked our flat and popped to a local shop for supplies to try and cosy the place up.

‘So, did you bring all this up here?’ Her eyes sweep across the sheepskin rug, blankets, basket, flask and about a gazillion electric tea lights.

‘Yeah.’ I shrug, dipping my head down, embarrassed suddenly that it’s too much. I take a stride over to the basket, crouch down and flick the lid open. ‘Fancy a hot chocolate?’

‘Yes please.’ She drops to her knees on the rug, running her fingers through the shaggy pile. ‘I can’t believe you did all this. ’

I pull a couple of enamel cups out of the basket while Ella swivels the lid of the thermos open. She pours us each a mug and then takes one, wrapping her hands around it and giving a shiver.

‘You cold?’ I grab one of the throws and loop it over Ella’s shoulders. ‘There’s plenty of blankets.’

‘Thanks.’ She takes another blanket from the stack and then scooches back to lean against the wall, patting to the side of her, inviting me over. I perch next to her and she fans the blanket over both of us.

We lean against the timber slats, legs propped out in front of us, watching the lights of the town moving and flickering in the distance.

‘Mmm, that’s hitting the spot.’ She takes a deep swig of her drink. ‘I hadn’t realised how hungry I was.’

‘Oh wait.’ I haul the basket over and rummage through it, tossing a can of whipped cream out of the way. Next come two bottles of water and then some serviettes, until I get to the foil-wrapped tray at the bottom. ‘There’re brownies too.’

---