Christmas at Rachel’s Pudding Pantry. Caroline Roberts

       4

      Rachel drove the two miles between their farms in the dark, along the familiar, twisting hawthorn-hedged country lanes. She felt a touch nervous, her tummy in a bit of a knot, as she neared his farm entrance gate. They didn’t get an awful lot of time alone, and though she was desperate to see him, all this togetherness was still strangely new. She so didn’t want to mess things up. She pulled to a halt, and soon found herself knocking at Tom’s farmhouse door, a fizz of anticipation building as she let herself in.

      ‘Hi, I’m here,’ Rachel announced.

      Tom turned to greet her. He was standing at the kitchen island unit, opening a bottle of red wine. His hair was still slightly damp, as though he’d just got out of the shower. Hmm, just the thought of that sent a little shiver through her.

      The house was a large, traditional honeyed-stone building similar to their own. Inside however, the kitchen had been modernised with light-coloured wood units and chrome fittings – a modernisation Tom’s ex-wife had insisted on, complaining that the original kitchen was archaic. It wasn’t the only thing she’d complained about, so Rachel had heard, with the relationship falling apart after four years. Caitlin had moved back to Newcastle, leaving Tom with a wrecked heart and a large bank loan to buy her out with, so he could keep the family farm intact.

      ‘Hey.’ He gave her a broad smile, that reached right through to his deep brown eyes.

      ‘Hi.’ Rachel handed him the pudding gift from her mother. ‘Crumble,’ she said with a suggestive grin.

      ‘Oh, perfect. Can’t wait to tuck in …’ His smile widened cheekily.

      Mabel, Tom’s Jack Russell Terrier, then dashed to greet Rachel, leaving the warmth of her rug by the stove. She was soon skipping around her visitor’s feet, with her tail wagging merrily.

      ‘Hi Mabel, how are you?’ Rachel leaned to pat the little dog’s smooth white-and-brown patched head.

      As she stood back up, Tom took a step forward, taking Rachel into his arms. ‘I’ve missed you.’ His lips met hers with a kiss that was tender and oh so promising. The knot in her stomach began to unravel.

      ‘Hah, it’s only been a matter of hours.’ She made light of it, but she had been thinking about him too. A snatched ‘hello’ at the Pantry was nothing like spending an evening together. She had a feeling Tom would have liked to meet up more, but life was busy enough and Rachel hadn’t wanted to crowd him or appear needy in these early days of their changing relationship. She was still getting used to it herself.

      ‘I know. But still …’ Tom added, his eyes intense. ‘Glass of red?’

      ‘Yes, please.’

      They took their wine glasses through to the lounge, where a log fire was roaring away in the stone hearth. It was welcoming and cosy there, with a well-worn plum-coloured sofa set next to a low wooden coffee table. They were soon settled there together, chatting about their respective days. This was just what she needed after being up since six thirty out on the farm, hauling big circular hay bales about, preparing their store of winter supplies in the shed ready for the cattle and sheep, then on her feet all morning and afternoon at the Pudding Pantry. Tonight was a chance to chill out in some rather gorgeous company. She began to feel herself unwind.

      Tom was sitting so very close … Then the urge to kiss him again hit her. She placed her glass down purposefully and leaned towards him. He didn’t need any encouragement. His lips were warm and welcoming, their tongues soon entwined. It was becoming familiar, the way his kiss felt, so tender and passionate. Soon, Rachel’s whole body was on high alert, every nerve ending tingling.

      Still on the sofa, with their upper bodies pressed so very close, Rachel pushed him down so that he lay back across the cushions. Tom was a tall guy, and as he tried to position himself so she could move across him, his lower legs and feet hung awkwardly over the sofa arm. Rachel looked at his gangly arrangement and giggled.

      ‘Shall we move this fireside?’ he suggested with a cheeky, and rather sexy, arch of his eyebrow.

      ‘I think that sounds like a very good idea. We might well end up in A & E otherwise.’ Rachel laughed.

      They shifted to the rug and lay down by the glowing heat of a crackling log fire. Tom, who was now propped on one elbow, gently pushed a strand of her dark wavy hair away from her face and gazed at her intensely.

      ‘You’re beautiful.’

      ‘Oh …’ Rachel never quite knew how to take a compliment, but she managed a smile.

      They kissed again, with warm, wine-tasting lips, and Rachel lay him down, teasing off his shirt, button by button, guiding her fingertips underneath the cotton of his top, and tracing the taut muscles of his chest. She gave a little grin. ‘You’re not so bad yourself, Tom Watson.’

      She loved the maleness of him, his strength, those toned muscles. As a working farmer, he was fit and healthy and she had to admit he looked damned good for his thirty-three years. And, it wasn’t all about the exterior, either; Tom’s personality was kind and caring too, and in contrast to all that strength, he still had the capacity to be gentle. He’d been a great support to all of them since her father’s death. In fact, Rachel mused, as she stroked his chest, trailing her fingertips down over his stomach where the muscles quivered involuntary, the whole of him was a very special combination, and making love with this wonderful man was a joy. She couldn’t wait to experience that all over again.

      Tom shifted to sit up, his top now off and discarded across the floor, revealing a very attractive chest above his jeans. He began to slowly remove Rachel’s clothing, kissing her bared skin as he went. Down to her underwear now, he traced his hand along the curve of her waist, her hip, her thigh as she lay on her side. Soon they were both naked in the firelight glow.

      The emotions within Rachel were powerful … yearning, loving, learning …

      As they made love, she lost herself to him. And though she hadn’t voiced those words ‘I love you’ lately, she felt it within every bone in her body.

      As they lay naked in the afterglow, Tom propped himself up on one elbow beside her.

      ‘Are you warm enough?’ he asked.

      ‘Yes, the fire’s lovely.’

      ‘And you’re okay?’ He sounded so caring, checking she was happy, that all of this was right for her.

      ‘Very.’ She smiled tenderly. This was so beautiful, getting to know every inch of his body, getting to know the real Tom, inside and out.

      He moved closer, snuggling up behind her, his arm slipping around her waist, moving on until he found her hand, where he laced his fingertips through hers. Then Mabel trotted in from her kitchen bed and paused, giving them a haughty look.

      ‘Hah, I think she’s put out,’ Tom commented, though there was a smile through his voice. ‘The rug by the fire is usually her spot