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Her eyes flicked to the window, then back to him. ‘What if she walks in…’

‘Then she’ll see a man greeting his lover with enthusiasm.’ Jago laughed, easing Rita towards the hallway.

The resistance in her posture softened. ‘You are irresistible, you know that but…’

‘And yet… the woman still scorns me.’ Jago stood upright and led her hand to the bulge in his jeans. ‘To be continued.’ He stared right into her eyes.

Rita’s breath quickened. He leant in just enough to brush a kiss against her temple, quick and light but lingering in its intent. ‘No takebacks, promise me.’

She tilted her head, conceding the moment before stepping back with a small shake of her head. ‘I promise.’

There was a pause, then a shared look that held more than either of them could say aloud.

Then Rita smiled, slow and deliberate. ‘Early bed for us all.’

Jago’s face broke into a slow, dimpled grin. He smacked her bum as he headed for the door and with a wink, sang, ‘It’s my lucky day!’

Rita laughed to herself. Reaching for her phone, a spark returned to her expression. A second later, she looked out of the window to see Jago reach for his handset and his face break into a wide grin as he opened up a message.

The underwear photo she had taken last night. Followed by a message.

To be continued… indeed.

TWELVE

The next morning Rita stirred as Jago eased himself out of bed in the grey half-light. She reached for him, then let her hand fall back into the duvet. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered, voice thick with sleep. ‘I meant to… and wanted to, just fell asleep on you, this time.’

‘It’s fine, darling.’ He kissed her on the cheek. ‘See you later.’

She made a small, sleepy sound, something between a protest and a sigh as he slipped out and headed to Hawthorn Acre.

Rita’s smile widened as Thom pushed open the kitchen door, in full-on fitness attire, Buttons darting in ahead of him. The dog made straight for the highchairs, nosing about for any forgotten scraps from breakfast.

The twins were in high spirits, drumming their spoons against their trays, shrieking with delight at the freedom to make as much noise as they pleased.

‘Here he comes, the new lord of Hawthorn Acre.’

‘Hardly.’ Thom laughed. ‘And don’t let Jago hear you say that. He’s already stated his house rules, which to be fair are pretty lenient.’ He grabbed a glass and drained a pint of water in one go. ‘That hill’s brutal to run up.’

‘Still, good for you, doing it.’

‘I’m on a bit of a health kick. Thought I’d take a week to settle in, then try to carve out some kind of routine. Doesn’t mean I can’t help you this week, though, if you need it.’

‘I really do appreciate that, darling.’ Rita set about cleaning up the twins, who immediately voiced their outrage, wriggling and twisting in determined protest against the cold intrusion of the wet wipes.

‘So, what’s on Mumsie Jory’s agenda today, then?’ Thom rifled about in the bread bin, pulled out a white roll, and started buttering it.

‘Actually, Chloe Brimble will be here in a minute.’

‘Really?’ His eyebrows lifted as he took a bite, a flicker of interest cutting through his casual tone.

‘If she’s up for it then she eventually will be helping out with the twins, free up a bit of time for me to concentrate on the retreat.’

‘Oh.’

Rita put her hand up flat. ‘Please no words of wisdom about how she may not be quite the right fit. I’ve had all that already from their father.’

Thom knew his mother well enough not to say anything further. The twins, with their spoons removed, started to protest in their captivity.