Free Follow the Leader by Mel Sherratt Page B

shepherd’s pie from scratch. She’d followed a Jamie Oliver recipe, quite proud of her effort she was too, but the last time she had looked at it, it had started to burn at the edges as the juices inside bubbled over. She was starving: she’d give him ten more minutes and then she was diving into it regardless of whether he was home or not.
    Moving in with Joe had not been in Rhian’s life plan but it had been an added bonus. They’d met during a night out in Hanley. Some young bloke had been taking great pleasure feeling her up on the dance floor. Joe had marched over and stopped him with a swift punch to the ribs that had gone unnoticed by the bouncers. He’d bought her a drink and, although he was sixteen years older than her, they’d become an item more or less immediately. Within a month, Rhian had persuaded Joe to let her stay there. The relationship wasn’t everything she had hoped but it was better than living at home with her parents. Plus, after conveniently losing her crappy bar job through poor attendance, because she didn’t have to fork out board or rent every month, she had started to put her qualification as a nail technician to good use and set up a mobile service for her friends. Pretty soon, she had a few regular clients and more than enough of an emergency fund put by, if she wasn’t too stupid with it.
    She flicked over the channels to catch up on Coronation Street . But a few minutes into the program, her mind began to wander again. Just lately, Joe had been staying at work quite a lot more than he normally did. She looked back – she reckoned for the past two months there had been a lot of late nights, weekend meetings and phone calls he didn’t want her to listen in to. Not for the first time, she wondered if he had another woman. Fuck, she’d rip her eyes out if he had and she caught them together.
    Relieved when she heard his car pull into the drive, she went out to greet him. ‘Where have you been?’ she whined as she stood shivering on the doorstep. ‘I’ve something delicious in the oven and the smell of it is driving me mad.’
    ‘There was a problem at work.’ Joe kissed her briefly on the cheek.
    She closed the door behind them, only to turn to see he’d removed his coat and was heading up the stairs.
    Rhian grabbed his arm to stop him. ‘Where are you going now?’
    ‘I need to shower.’
    ‘But I’m starving. Can’t we eat first?’
    ‘I won’t be more than a few minutes.’
    ‘But . . . oh, what’s that? Is it blood?’ She pointed to a red stain on his T-shirt. ‘Are you okay?’
    Joe looked down. ‘Oh, it’s fine, it’s not mine,’ he explained. ‘One of the blokes at work cut himself, the dozy bastard, and I had to administer first aid and take him to A&E. There was blood everywhere .’
    He thundered up the stairs.
    Rhian pouted. ‘Shall I dish the food out? I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.’
    ‘Yeah, you do that.’
    The bathroom door slamming made her jump. She glared at her reflection in the hall mirror. Damn that man! He hadn’t even said she looked nice. She’d made an effort with her appearance too, wearing a simple yet flattering woollen dress that stopped slightly above her knee and showed just enough cleavage not to seem slutty. She’d put up her hair, a few loose strands sexily dropping onto her shoulders. Underneath the dress, she wore nothing but a black lacy thong she was hoping he would remove later with his teeth.
    He’s home, you stupid mare; stop whinging, she chastised herself. Determined not to antagonise him by moaning, she raced through to the kitchen to open a bottle of wine.
    Joe’s hair was still wet when he came into the kitchen ten minutes later. From the bags under his eyes and the way his shoulders drooped, Rhian realised she’d be pushing it for the marathon sex session she’d envisaged. But, she laughed inwardly, it was more than perfect for an early night. They could curl up together afterwards and have