Free Out of The Blue by Charlotte Mills

sitting room.
    “It’s Ashill-on-Sea in Suffolk. My aunt recently moved back there. I bought it when I visited last month.”
    “It’s beautiful.”
    “Ashill or the painting?”
    “Both.” My phone buzzing in my back pocket interrupted my inspection. Seeing Lucy’s name flash up I was torn between answering it and letting it go to voicemail. It could be work-based, but it could equally be a social call and not something I wanted to have in front of Jamie. I was more than a little freaked out by the fact that I was now being pursued by two individuals, one of whom was a little awkward and unwelcome. I recalled the conversation I had had with Lucy yesterday. It crossed my mind that she was taking a leaf out of Jamie’s book, creating an argument so we would have to make up somehow. If I thought Jamie had been that scheming I wouldn’t be standing in her hallway about to take her for lunch, but the thought of Lucy, a work colleague, being that manipulative made me very uneasy.       
    I had known her for over a year. In all that time she had been nothing less than professional. Although over the last few surveying jobs she had become marginally friendlier, I just thought we were getting to know each other better. I had never harboured any romantic feelings for her, despite James’s opinion that everyone is my type. She was incredibly capable at her job, she had found solutions to a number of problems we had had with designs, and there was never a problem with her commitment. She was always eager to help, stepping up when required and making herself indispensable in many ways. On a personal level, there did seem to be something missing. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. She had started to make me feel uncomfortable and not in a good way, as Jamie did and continued to do. I could never see myself being intimate with Lucy and certainly not now. Not that that was what I looked for in a colleague, but when she tried being over-friendly and suggestive it became a personal issue for me. I let the call go to voicemail before slipping the phone back in my pocket.
    Lunch at Piccolino’s was every bit as good as the reviews I had read online. I chose baby back ribs and house-cut chips while Jamie had calzone filled with salami and buffalo ricotta, all washed down with a bottle of merlot. Suitably stuffed, we slowly waddled back to Jamie’s house. We both hovered on the short path to her front door for several moments until Jamie finally spoke.       
    “Would you like to come in for a drink?”
    “Yes, please.”
    I followed her closely to the front door as she opened it. I could smell her intoxicating scent as it mixed with her sun-warmed skin.   
    “Wine? Red or white?” Jamie asked, as she shut the door behind me.
    “Uh, red, please,” I replied, not wanting to mix my drinks at this stage. I continued following her into the kitchen, leaning against the worktop as she selected a bottle of red wine from her rack set in a base unit. Placing the wine on the worktop, she came towards me, a smile stretched across her face. Stopping just to the side of me, I locked eyes with her as she reached up to retrieve something from a cupboard. I instinctively hooked a finger in her front pocket, pulling her hips tight to mine. Using my other hand to steady her, I loosely gripped her waist. We stood there, eye-to-eye, for several seconds. This told me two things. Firstly, she hadn’t totally forgiven me for ducking out last night, and secondly, I had to be the one to make the first move. Pulling my hand from her waist, I slid it under her shirt, instantly feeling the warmth of her smooth skin. Her eyes never budged from mine as my hand went higher, feeling the curve of her rib cage then the swell of her breast, using my thumb to circle and bring to life the nipple below. I could feel her breathing increase as her lips parted. I edged closer, kissing her lips softly, and pulled back as she opened her eyes,