Old Times Ch. 02

(I apologise for any typos in here, I've been so long writing this i didn't want to leave it any longer to edit it. if i get chance i will edit then repost this. Until then, enjoy)

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An almost supernatural awareness made Ross look up from his Kindle to the door of the pub. There was no reason for him to do so, it was a quiet mid-afternoon on a Saturday and the premises were in the lull between lunch and the early evening arrivals. And yet his gaze was riveted to the entrance and his stomach was clenched tight.

Through the frosted glass of the door he saw a familiar figure pause, a hand raised to the finger plate. He unconsciously leaned forward, waiting for them to make their move, a feeling of dread settling in his gut as their indecision stretched out. Setting down the kindle, he was starting to rise to his feet when the door was pushed open and Marisa walked in.

Letting his breath out in a long sigh, he got to his feet and held his hands out to her in greeting as she crossed the almost empty room to him. Flipping her hands over, he placed a quick kiss to the inside of each of her wrists before he released her and sat down.

"You look lovely," he said with a smile as she flustered over making herself comfortable, her cheeks flaming red at his welcome.

"This old thing?" she asked then cringed at the tired line. "It was the only thing I had ironed after I unpacked," she admitted.

"I remember the days," Ross agreed as he flashed a smile. "I think I spent the years from eighteen through to about thirty wearing creases."

"What happened at thirty?" Marisa asked.

"I was making enough to hire a housekeeper," he said ruefully. "You think I am normally capable of turning myself out this smartly?"

Raising her embarrassed gaze, Marisa ran a critical eye from top to toe taking in the immaculately ironed shirt and the pressed chinos. "I can't even turn myself out like that," she commented mildly. "You must be able to afford quite a housekeeper."

Ross chuckled as he nodded to the barman. "I pay more than the going rate and give her free rein on my property when I am away. I suspect there are some interesting parties taking place in my absence."

"What do you mean?" she asked. Looking up as the barman set a soft drink down in front of her, she frowned at the glass then at the barman's retreating back. "Since when did they do waiting on in this place?"

"Since I pre-tipped him a tonne to do so while it's quiet," Ross said dryly.

Marisa felt her cheeks heat. "There's no need to flash your money around me," she said tightly.

Ross steadied his green gaze on her and held it for several seconds beyond the comfort level. "I'm not," he finally said. "I work hard all week to make money, so at the weekends I make it my business to be idle. And if tipping someone well means I don't have to keep running to the bar then I'll do it."

She looked down at her fingers knotted in her lap for a moment out of sheer embarrassment. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to offend you."

"None taken." Ross waved the moment away with a grin. "I like that you stood up like that. It's a refreshing change."

"From what?" she asked, her mouth running ahead of her mortified brain.

"Gold diggers." Flicking open the menu, he studied it closely whilst keeping an eye on her. Her face was flamed with embarrassment as her thoughts flashed across her eyes. As far as he was concerned she had not put her foot in it; he appreciated her honesty and independence. But right now she felt humiliated and was likely to make her excuses and leave if he allowed it. "Now, I believe it is your turn to buy me lunch."

"I really should be going," she said quickly, her whole body language showing the desire to flee from her faux pas.

"I'm not letting you," he said easily as he turned his attention to the second page. "If you think I am letting you run away because of an honest comment then you haven't worked me out, lassie. I prefer honesty. I think I'll have a light ploughman's. You?"

Staring at him, Marisa tried to decide if he was being honest with her or just tormenting her for his own amusement. His clear green eyes held hers as she studied him closely. There was nothing but honesty and patience looking back at her, so she eventually sighed and reached for a menu. Flicking through it, she settled on a light pasta dish. She needed carbs after the last 24 hours.

"Can I filch some garlic bread?" he asked after the barman took their order.

"Depends how much I get," she answered, a small attempt at humour turning up the corners of her mouth.

Flashing a warm smile, Ross was satisfied to see her blush again, but not from embarrassment this time. It was good to study her in daylight. The previous evening the restaurant had been ambient lighting, and the hotel was quite a soft light. Yes, she looked a lot younger than she said she was, apart from those very fine lines at the corner of her eyes. Her eyes were fascinating, he hadn't decided last night if they were blue or green, but now he could see they were both. Lines of each colour bleeding into one another as a ring of gold flecks around the iris glittered as it caught the light.

"Have I got something on my nose?" she suddenly asked.

"What?" He laughed self-consciously and shrugged. "Sorry, I was just getting a good look at you. The light last night was not really conducive. And neither was my attention span," he added ruefully.

Marisa blushed at his candid comment. Fiddling with the paper napkin on the table, she pointedly put it down and raised her chin. Meeting his gaze, she took a deep breath. "Why did you meet me for lunch?"

"Why not?"

"I need to know," Marisa said quietly. "Last night was a one night stand wasn't it? So why are you here?"

"The same reason you texted me," Ross said quietly. Glancing up as the barman set several plates on the table, he waited until he was out of earshot again. "Did last night feel like a one off to you?"

Marisa thought about it as she played with her food. "No," she finally admitted.

"It didn't to me either," Ross answered. Carefully slicing the meat on his plate, he looked up at her as he waited for her to digest the implications. She was thoughtful as she picked at her food, slanting questioning glances at him as they ate. "Do you understand what I am saying lass?" he finally asked.

Marisa nodded as she resumed picking at her food. "You want more than a one night stand. A relationship?" she added tentatively.

"Maybe," he agreed. "If it works that way for both of us."

"I'm not very good at relationships," she sighed. Picking up the garlic bread, she tore a chunk off and chewed on it, thoughtlessly sucking the warm juice from her fingers as she stared into the distance. "I've been accused of being too old fashioned in the past."

"Which eejit said that?" Ross asked, his eyebrows raised almost to his hairline in surprise.

Marisa shrugged and ate another piece of bread. "Just an Ex," she dismissed.

"So what did he actually object to?" Ross asked, digging for further information.

Marisa glanced at him before pinning her gaze to a nearby print on the wall. "He didn't like that I wanted monogamy, decent treatment and communication beyond 'I want a shag'."

"Ahh." Ross nodded slowly. "He was a moron; that's what I actually look for in a lady."

Marisa snorted with laughter. "Then look elsewhere as I am not a lady," she chided.

"You are to me," he declared, raising his glass in a mock toast. "I want monogamy, until one or both of us is bored and walks away. I want honesty, communication and above all trust in each other. Do you want that?"

Marisa thought over the offer as she swiped the garlic bread through the creamy sauce of her pasta. Chewing slowly, she kept her gaze on the ceiling as she thought over the honest offer. "Alright," she finally agreed as she dropped her gaze down to meet his. "I'm willing to give it a try. If you think you know what you are letting yourself in for."

Ross' eyes glittered at the challenge. "And what would that statement mean lassie?"

Marisa picked up her drink and offered a mock toast. "Just that I am not considered...normal."

"I think I knew that after last night," he teased, being rewarded with a quick blush. For all her bravado and show, he knew underneath it all this was entirely virgin territory to her. "Do you have any plans for this afternoon?"

Marisa shrugged in reply as she sat back and propped her feet up on a nearby stool.

"Excellent." He drained his glass and picked up his jacket. "Would you fancy a walk with me?" Marisa waggled her heel clad feet at him and raised her eyebrows. "Do you live far?"

"Five minutes totter," she conceded.

"Good," he said as he stood up and swung the jacket on. "I'll run you home and wait while you change your shoes. We aren't going far."

Kicking off the heels, Marisa dug around in the bottom of the wardrobe to find her long neglected hiking boots. They'd been used twice and then unceremoniously shoved in the back of the closet when that particular boyfriend had cheated. Part of her felt guilty at turning her back on the pastime as she actually loved to walk, but she didn't feel confident hawking off alone into god knew where.

Pulling out a pair of thick fluffy socks, she dragged them on then quickly laced up the boots. Experimentally wiggling her toes, she rocked back and forth on her heels as she got a feel for the chunky footwear. They were damned comfortable, and if she didn't work in an office would be tempted to wear them all the time.

Snatching up a jacket as she left the bedroom, she sprinted through the flat to the front door. Catching herself, she leaned her forehead against the cool wood and caught her breathe. She was running around like a giddy schoolgirl with her first boyfriend. She couldn't believe her luck, but she could feel that hard cold knot of fear in the pit of her stomach, nagging away that this wouldn't last long.

Taking a deep breathe, she yanked the door open and stepped out before the fear overwhelmed her. Locking the door, she turned to the kerb and practically skipped down the little pathway to where Ross waited in the Mercedes, his seat tilted back and his eyes closed.

Pulling open the door, she slipped in to the racing seat, the warm leather enveloping her. As she clicked the seatbelt into the lock she relaxed under the jazz music that was playing from the state of the art sound system.

"That's nice," she commented as Ross tilted his seat back up and reached for the start button. "Who is it?"

"Madelaine Peyroux," he said with a flash of a smile. "A question."

"Go on."

"Do you like trains?"

"I prefer men," she quipped.

"Very droll," he muttered. "You should be on the stage lass. What I meant was I've always wanted to visit the local steam train museum, and you seem to me the canny type who'd like it as much as me."

Marisa laughed as she leaned her arm on the door frame and turned her head to look at him. "If we're talking getting down and dirty with a steam engine, then I'm always game."

Looking at her sharply, Ross' green eyes glittered with heat. "Down and dirty is it?" he asked as the Mercedes cruised down the quiet residential street. "Oh I think I can manage that alright."

Laughing at her mock scandalised loo, he coasted through the estate until he reached the main road. Turning into the flow of traffic, he flexed long fingers on the wheel and looked out of the corner of his eye at her. She was staring up out of the window, those fascinating eyes of hers taking in everything around. Again she held that hint of the child in her face, fascinated and excited about everything she was seeing and about to do. He loved it; loved the way her whole face lit up at such simple things. He'd never thought he'd be able to romance a woman with the offer of seeing a steam loco.

Smiling to himself, he turned in to the carpark for the museum and parked a little way from the rest of the vehicles. "Some bastard always manages to 'accidentally' scratch the car," he commented at her questioning look. "Come on lass, or the trains might run away."

Laughing at his lame joke, Marisa climbed out and stretched her back. There was a distinct autumnal chill in the air, catching the back of her throat as she dragged her coat fastened and shoved her hands into the pockets.

"Jesus when did it get so cold?" she asked as she hunched up.

"It was bloody freezing last night," Ross said mildly as he wrapped an arm about her shoulders and pulled her into his side for warmth. "However, I believe neither of us was in the mood to notice such a wee detail."

"Neither were you," she complained as she punched him in the ribs.

"Sadism is it?" Turning quickly he caught her and began to tickle until she was shrieking with laughter. "Remember lassie, us Scots were never ones to back down from a fight."

"And neither are the English," she answered then dove under his arm and proceeded to attack him in the same way.

Skittering back from her, Ross was laughing too hard to speak. Catching her hands, he held her at arm's length as they both got their breath back. "I see you are as dishonourable as they come," he managed between breaths. "I shall have to keep a close eye on you, ye ken"?

"Ye ken?" She raised her eyebrows as she tugged her coat straight. "Do ye barbie too?"

"Ye're a cruel woman," he drawled, thickening his accent to the point it was all rolls and burr.

"Very sexy," she laughed. Snuggling back into the curve of his arm, they cross the car park and into the small ticket hall. All around old railway posters and cast iron notices pinned to the walls advertised long neglected lines and disregarded holiday destinations. Looking up at an Art Deco poster, she turned her head as Ross joined her, folding his change into his wallet as he did so. "Do you like Deco?"

He glanced up at the poster and his eyes narrowed. "It depends on what type of Deco it is," he commented. "I like the stylised such as this, but the full on geometric leaves me cold. I'd rather have art nouveau."

"It's more sensuous," Marisa said without thinking, then blushed as Ross looked down at her with raised eyebrows. "You know what I mean!"

"Aye lassie, I do," he chuckled. "Come on, let's go find you a choo choo to play with."

"How old do you think I am?" she asked with mock seriousness.

"About five I think," he answered. Pushing open heavy glass doors, they stepped out into the cool autumn air of the museum. In front of them an old station platform stretched to either side, tubs of fading flowers hanging on grimly as summer faded. White framed windows glittering in the sun as an engine idled nearby. The strong scent of coal smoke and hot steam filled the air as the engine was stoked, a gentle stream of excess steam clouding the wheels.

"Ooooh I want one," Marisa breathed as she looked from the front of the boiler down to the end of the last carriage.

"Make that about three," Ross said dryly. "Do you want to take a ride now or later?"

Marisa looked around, taking in the standing stock further away, the old engine sheds and the signal box. "Is it running later?"

Ross turned, unconsciously hanging on to her hand as he checked a timetable pinned to a board. "There's another run in an hour."

"Can we take that one?" she asked. Looking down, she laced her fingers through his as she stroked her thumb against his. "I want to look around first."

"Aye, I suppose so," he agreed. Wrapping an arm about her waist, he tugged her against his side and grinned at her little gasp. "I'm old, the cold is going to my bones."

"Bullshit," she drawled. Snuggling in to his side, she wrapped her arm about his waist in turn and enjoyed the feel of his hip as it touched hers. Wandering along the platform, she didn't know whether to investigate the old Pullman carriages, or to duck into the waiting room and ticket office to enjoy the atmosphere.

"Shall we take a gander around the rolling stock?" Ross looked down the tracks where a fenced path ran for visitors to wander. It was empty with today's punters choosing to take a ride down the tracks rather than spend time out in the cool air. "Always wanted to do it as a kid but never got the chance."

"Why not?" she asked. Resting her hand low on the back of his hip, Marisa took great delight in letting it slide down to skim over the curve of his buttocks.

Jumping forward at the sudden exploration, Ross actually blushed. Stopping her on the path, he pulled her around and into his arms. Dropping his head, he caught her in a kiss, his hands cupping her arse as he pulled her up against him. Tongues entwining, he groaned into her mouth and pulled her tight to his body so she could be in no doubt of the way he was already hardening for her.

Marisa moaned softly. Catching his tongue between her teeth, she grinned up into his widening eyes. Pulling him back into a passionate kiss, she dug her fingers into his backside and yanked him forward against her torso.

"Jesus lass." Resting his forehead on hers, Ross struggled to slow his breathing and get his body under control.

"I need you now," she said softly, her eyes closed as she breathed deeply and evenly.

"We need to head back to yours." Placing a series of kisses across her face, Ross caught her between his hands and placed a long, slow kiss on her lips.

"I don't have time," Marisa said quietly. Stepping back form him, she took his hand and dragged him along the path.

"Lass, I need to take you to bed, not go pissing about around old carriages," Ross said angrily as he was forcefully pulled further from the exit.

Stopping on the path, Marisa turned on him with a grin and sparkle in her eyes. "We're alone, there are lots of old carriages and trailers, and I am more than willing to have sex here." She brushed hair from her face and widened her grin. "Unless you are too scared?"

Catching her cheek in the palm of his hand, Ross stroked a thumb over her cheek as he slowly smiled. "I'm more willing than even you can guess lass." Kissing her fingers, he waved her on. "Though I suggest you are quick about finding somewhere before I lose interest."

Stopping suddenly so he walked into the back of her, Marisa reached behind to stroke her fingers over his crotch. "Really losing interest?"

"Not quite yet." Kissing the back of her neck, Ross reached around to cup her breasts through her coat. Pressing up against her, he nibbled under her ear as he slipped a hand down and into the front of her trousers. Finding his way down to the wet heat that was already building, he slid a finger in and stroked. Smiling at her gasp, he held her tight so she couldn't pull away for a few minutes until he had begun to build the same level of arousal in her as he felt himself.

"Bastard," she hissed as he finally released her. Dragging her fingers through her hair, she grinned as he chuckled. "Come on, let's find a corner."

"More like a nook," he drawled. Glancing back along the path, he waited until no one was looking their way then clambered over the fence. Helping her over, he caught her in a quick kiss then released her. Looking around at the dilapidated wagons and carriages stood waiting for rescue, he began to wind his way through the lines.

Running up behind him, Marisa grabbed him around the waist and spun him before she sprinted off, her laughter filling the air. Shaking his head, Ross turned several corners before her found the old Pullman carriage, its windows grimy and its paintwork peeling.

Walking its length, he reached up to try the handle and grunted in satisfaction as the door swung open. Getting the toe of his boot into the frame, he heaved himself up, banging his knee in the process. Rubbing away the pain, he moved so he could look down the corridor, sliding doors pushed closed over the individual cabins. Dust motes hung in the air, highlighted by the autumn sun fighting its way through the dirt smeared glass. Despite the age and neglect, the carriage was dry and considerably warmer than outside.