Page 74 of The Clockmaker's Cottage
‘I overheard your conversation in the early hours of the morning.’
Theo nodded, eyes flicking away for a second before returning to her. ‘She said she made a mistake. She realised what she’s lost, and doesn’t want to throw us away.’ His fingers absentmindedly traced a slow, distracted pattern on her hip. ‘She wants to try again. To repair things.’
‘Do you… want that?’ she asked, trying to sound neutral, grown-up, completely unaffected. But her voice wobbled anyway.
Theo didn’t answer immediately. ‘I don’t know. That’s the problem. It’s… confusing.’
Pippa nodded. ‘Rob wanted to give it another go,’ she said quietly, surprising herself by admitting it out loud. ‘He kept saying we could fix everything if we just tried hard enough. But it was done. It had been done for a long time. I wasn’t truly happy. He didn’t make my heart skip a beat. Are you happy with Clara, Theo? I mean truly happy, before Sebastian…’
‘What is happiness?’
‘If you’re asking yourself that question then you deserve better than what you’re currently getting.’
‘So did you,’ he whispered before he could stop himself.
They stared at each other for a long moment before Theo spoke. ‘I’m going to admit something… It was never right with Clara. Not really.’
‘Then why marry her?’ She stopped herself, shaking her head. ‘Sorry. That’s not my business.’
But Theo reached for her hand, threading his fingers gently through hers.
‘It is your business,’ he said quietly, ‘because I’m starting to realise something I should’ve realised a long time ago.’
Her heart clenched.
‘What’s that?’ she asked.
Theo tilted her chin upwards, looking directly into her eyes. There was no hesitation, no flicker of doubt. ‘Because she wasn’t you.’
ChapterTwenty
Theo’s words–she wasn’t you– were still hanging in the air, and his hand was still tipping her chin upwards towards his face. It was just a light touch, but enough to make her whole body jolt with awareness.
‘Pippa,’ he said quietly. ‘If Sebastian hadn’t come between us?—’
Pippa didn’t let him finish, her whole body tingling with anticipation as she moved forward and kissed him. There was no thinking involved whatsoever. One second, she was staring at him, the next, she’d closed the tiny gap between them. His lips were warm and soft, and he was surprised for half a second, and then he kissed her back.
He pulled her closer under the duvet. She kissed him again, slower this time, almost testing the moment to see if it was real. She was still wearing his old university T-shirt and lounge pants, and there was nothing remotely glamorous happening here, and yet it felt… perfect. Real.
Theo’s thumb brushed her cheek, and she shifted closer without thinking, tucking herself into him. He smelled like sleep and warmth and something that made her feel strangely safe. He pulled back a fraction, forehead resting against hers. They were close enough that she could feel his breath on her lips.
‘I always wanted you, from the second I laid eyes on you at Freshers’ Week,’ murmured Pippa. ‘If only we’d spoken, things might have worked out differently.’
‘Let’s not think about that. We’re here now, stranded on an island, and still the rain is falling.’
He was right. There was something so romantic about being cooped up under the duvet with the rain running down the windowpane.
She leaned in and kissed him again. This time, the kiss deepened immediately and there was no hesitation, their hands exploring each other’s bodies. It wasn’t long before Pippa was pushing down on Theo’s lounge pants and wriggling out of her own.
‘I want you,’ she whispered, throwing caution to the wind and living in the moment.
That was all he needed.
He kissed her again, years of tension and missed chances finally being made up for. Her hands slid up the back of his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. He shifted, rolling so she was beneath him, bracing himself over her so gently. She could feel the heat of him through the material of her T-shirt, and willed him to pull it over her head. When she ran her fingers down his back, his breath hitched.
‘Pippa,’ he started, but the sentence went unfinished.
The room felt warm and blurry around them as they moved together, the duvet rustling somewhere near their feet. His hands slid over her hips, grasping the hem of her T-shirt, fingertips brushing her skin, sending a shiver right through her. She whispered his name, barely audibly, and he stilled for a beat, forehead dropping to her shoulder with a quiet, shaky exhale before he kissed her there. Slow and certain.
