Hello there! Here's another chapter. I hope you enjoy it. I don't think I've ever written a scene with as much dialogue as I did for this. Please vote, comment and like.
Thanks for reading.
***
Finally Orla plucked up enough courage to dial the number on the card Greg had given her. She hung up again, after only two rings. Eyes squeezed shut, she wondered, not for the first time, how on earth this guy had got under her skin so thoroughly. She was startled by the sound of her phone ringing. Of course it was him.
She stared, gripped with nerves, finally grabbing it and hitting the green button just before it went to answer phone.
"Hi, you called this number? I didn't pick up in time?"
"Hi Greg, it's Orla, from the community centre."
The one you had drunk sex with, six weeks ago.
"Orla," she could hear the smile in his voice. "I hoped it might be you."
Hearing him saying her name, his voice all deep and husky, did something funny to her insides.
She blinked and shook her head. He was waiting for her to speak.
"Sorry, I was ringing to invite you back for a meeting. Eleanor wants to hear about your ideas, but she's still a bit cautious about the thought of having the kids in from the estate. She has some questions."
He laughed. His voice was like honey. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to get a grip. "When is a good time?"
"The later the better for me, I can come after work. Apart from Tuesdays, I play football on Tuesdays."
"We close to the public at six on weekdays, can you come about then on Thursday?"
"Should be fine." He paused "So, how cautious is Eleanor, and how are we going to play this? You know her better than I do."
"The best thing to do with Eleanor is let her think its her idea,"
He laughed again, he had a lovely laugh. "How do we do that?"
So, they hatched a plan, Greg was going to suggest a community day, Orla would ask Eleanor leading questions about activities for older kids.
*
She started when the buzzer went at five to six, and dashed to the gate. She wanted to be the one to let him in. He was clean shaven and smartly dressed. Orla on the other hand, had spent the day cleaning shelves and battling with staples on display boards, she felt dusty and grubby in comparison. It was unusually cold for the time of year, so the centre has been quiet and Orla had been indoors all day, clearing out the cupboard, renewing the invertebrate display and growing progressively more nervous.
He rested a hand on her shoulder and pecked her on the cheek. "Hi" he said with a glittering smile. Orla was still reeling from his arrival, the unexpected physical contact. He seemed to know the affect he was having. Greg was flirting with her, and she was struggling not to be swept up in his charm and confidence.
She led him into the small meeting room behind the office. Elenor and Ben were already there. Eleanor asked Greg if he'd like a cup of tea, he said yes, and Orla gratefully volunteered to make it. Happy to have a moment alone to herself to gather her nerves.
Once out of sight, she leaned against the wall, and waited for her breath to calm. She could hear them doing introductions on the other side of the door. Damn it. She'd been so keen to get out of there and gather her wits, she hadn't even introduced them.
When she got back everyone was chatting away like they've known each other for years. The only available seat was on the tiny battered sofa, she sat down, grateful to be sharing it with Ben. Not sure how she would have managed, being in such close proximity with Greg.
As they talked she studied him. He was amazing; confident, enthusiastic and passionate about the kids. Perfectly happy to answer all of Eleanor's questions. Maintaining a calm, demeanour even when Orla was inwardly wincing at some of the things Eleanor said. She knew from the brief chat she had with Greg that he would feel the same as she did about some of Eleanor's views.
After a circular conversation about how to engage teenagers, Orla suggested giving away little kits, containing a butterfly spotting guide and those wild flower seed packets the RSPB sent them last week. She fetched some of them down from the shelf over the desk and put them on the coffee table. Greg must have been watching her, because when she turned back to face the room he looked away quickly. He was no longer wearing his jacket, he must have taken it off while Orla was in the kitchen. His sleeves were rolled up to reveal tanned sinewy forearms with a smattering of masculine dark hair.
"They might find wild flower seeds and butterflies a bit boring." Eleanor said. Her voice was breathy and higher than normal. Orla wasn't sure if Greg had noticed.
"There's always an incredibly low take up when giving wild flower seeds out, who ever we give them to. But if only a few do it, it will be worth it, That patch of waste ground by the library would be perfect for a bit of wild flower guerrilla gardening. Besides, what else are we going to do with them all?" Asked Orla.
Ben laughed, "you're such an idealist Orla. Teenagers aren't going to be interested in growing wildflowers"
Orla felt her scalp prickle.
"Everyone likes getting free stuff". Greg said quickly, "and you never know, some of them might plant them." He leaned forward and smiled, inviting Eleanor, into his confidence, as he explained about the strange beast that was the urban teenager. The new angle meant the muscles in his back showed through his shirt. "Primarily, we're trying to win their confidence, gain some currency with them. I think it could work"
Greg'g physicality dwarfed Ben. He'd always seemed reasonably well built, but next to Greg, Ben looked scrawny and insignificant. Orla mentally berated herself for being so superficial; she never normally noticed those things.
Eleanor was picking the wild flower seed packs up, turning them over in her hands, and nodding her head.
Greg flashed a quick, conspiratorial smile at Orla, while Eleanor was engrossed in the seeds. Bulky and muscular wasn't usually Orla's thing, but there wasn't an ounce of fat anywhere on Greg and it was hard not to be aware of his rugged good looks and the overwhelming aura of masculinity that surrounded him. Especially since he'd turned on the charm to win Eleanor over.
As time had passed and her memories of
that night
had faded, she'd started to question her attraction to him. She wondered if perhaps it wasn't as strong as she'd remembered? But she'd been wrong. As her insides warmed and the hair on her neck prickled, as the memories flooded her mind. She crossed her legs squeezing her thighs together. She could see now, why she'd found him so hard to resist. She could tell even Ben was a little bit impressed, despite himself.
By the end of the meeting Eleanor was sold on the idea of a community day, and even Ben, usually so stoic, was excited.
She felt proud. Partly of Greg, and how well he was handling himself; which was ridiculous really, it wasn't like Greg was her boyfriend. But also because they have found a solution to the break ins. A solution that could actually work.
*
As they walked to the gate, Greg was regaling them with stories of working in London and the transactions he'd had with the moped gangs that were the scourge of his life there.
"So you're from London?" Eleanor asked.
"Yeah, moved up here a few months back." He threw a glance at Orla. Their eyes met and she could see by his expression that he'd figured it out; where she'd seen him before.
Eleanor locked up the gate and they walked to the end of the road,
"What made you move to Bath?' Ben asked.
'Fancied a change of pace. And it wasn't all laughs.'
'I bet it wasn't.' Ben replied.
When they reached the main road, there were continental style pecks on the cheek and gushing from Eleanor. A manly handshake and a pat on the back from Ben. Then Ben and Elenor walked in one direction, and Greg and Orla in the other.
After a short walk, they reached the junction where she turned off. Orla stopped, and faced him, biting her lip. The atmosphere between them thickened. "Thank you, for coming, it really helped. Eleanor likes the idea, she trusts you. I... I think its going to work"
"Come for a drink with me?" He said the moment she stopped talking.
Her eyes darted across to the pub, on the other side of the road and then back at him. "I don't think thats a good idea, it's late, and I have to work tomorrow."
"Come on, just one drink."
"Why?"
"So we can talk about you."
She laughed nervously. "You don't want to talk about me."
He took a step towards her. Her stomach clenched in anticipation. Their last meeting must have caught him off guard, because clearly, he was back on top of his game today. And that infallible confidence that she found so hard to resist was back in full force. She looked up at his face in the fading light and noticed the dark blue of his eyes and was transported back to that first night when he cornered her in the Duke.
He'd insisted on taking her out for a drink then too.
"You can tell me about your favourite books, and the kind of things you like to eat, and your star sign." He lifted his hand to her face and traced a line down her cheek with his thumb.
Her skin tingled where he'd touched, and a tightness was forming in her chest, but the thing she noticed most, was the arousal pooling in her stomach
