Chapter 40 - Bungalow Nights
“He was an absolute darling!” Barbara smiled as the two of us sat in the corner of the bakery, each of us eating a slice of cheesecake. “One of the best workers I had here, I reckon.”
I smiled as both of us looked over at Harry, who stood behind the counter laughing along with the other slightly elderly women. We were at the bakery he used to work at, and all the women who still work here were gushing over Harry, thrilled that they were seeing him again. I even met Barbara, who I learned used to pinch Harry’s butt when he worked here.
We had been here in Holmes Chapel for two days now, and so far, Harry and I had a movie night with Robin and Anne and even went out for dinner with them, though it wasn’t the same without Gemma. And now, here at the bakery that he used to work at, I can actually see how happy he is being here. All the women here love him – why wouldn’t they? And it was so adorable seeing how happy they all were when Harry walked into the bakery.
“Yeah, he was really excited to come down here,” I tell her with a pleasant smile. “And I see he’s pretty good with the ladies,” I add with a laugh.
Barbara lets out a laugh as well, finishing off her cake. “He’s a sweetheart,” she smiles.
Harry and I stay for a while, until it’s time for the bakery to close up and the two of us then leave. As Harry and I sit in his car, I lean against the door to face Harry. “They were all so sweet,” I tell him with a smile.
A smile grew on Harry’s face as he drove down the road. “I know,” he says, “that’s why I worked with them. They all are great women.”
“Do you miss working there? Barbara was telling me you always used to have fun when you worked there,” I say as Harry stops at a red light.
“It was fun while it lasted,” Harry replies, turning his head to give me a cute smile. “Anyway, I think it did them some good when I left – I was a horrible baker.”
I let out a laugh, shaking my head as Harry started driving once again. The two of us then headed back to Harry’s house, but I furrowed my eyebrows when I saw that Harry drove past the road towards his house.
“Uh, Harry, you missed the turn,” I tell him, frowning.
“I know,” he grins, glancing at me before looking back at the road. “We’re heading to Robin’s bungalow. He’s letting us stay there for a couple of days.”
“But our stuff?”
“It’s all in the boot of the car,” he says, “I put them in there when I picked you and Mum up from lunch.”
I shook my head, chuckling slightly. He’s thought this all out.
“This is some killer chicken roast, Harry,” I praise him as I bite into my dinner, “you’re a much better cook than I thought.”
Harry smiles victoriously, sipping his Sprite. “I may be a horrid baker, but I can cook.”
I chuckle. “As long as you’re home, you’re going to be the one who’s doing all the cooking.”
Once Harry and I were finished eating, the two of us did the dishes together, bumping hips once in a while as we shared laughs. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t having a good time. Truth be told, I loved spending every minute with Harry. And it certainly helped that he had a couple of months off from the tour.
As I finished with the last of the dishes, I walked into the living room only to find Harry walk in as well with two open bottles in his hands. “Look what I found,” he sang out, holding one out to me.
I laughed, taking the bottle and taking a sip of the beer. “Why is it that British beer tastes better than American beer?”
Harry quirked an eyebrow, sipping his own as he removed the bottle from his lips. “I thought they tasted the same?”
I shook my head, making an ‘uh-uh’ sound. “Nope; I feel like British beer is stronger.”
“Maybe it is,” Harry replies as I take a long sip of my beer.
The two of us fall back on the couch next to one another, silently drinking our beers as the crackle of the fire in the fire place sounds. It was dark and cold outside, reminding me of how dreary England’s weather could be. But inside the bungalow was warm and cozy, the fire lighting up the dark room in a dull orange, blazing color.
I drank by beer, almost half way through the bottle, as Harry was almost finished with his. By the time I was done with mine, I stood up to throw the bottle away, but Harry caught my wrist.
“No, don’t leave,” he pouted, causing me to let out a laugh.
“I need to throw this away,” I tell him, trying to wriggle out of his grasp as he stood up, his tall body towering over my much smaller than me. I sighed, looking up at him. “Why are you so tall?”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Why are you so small?”
I frowned. “Hey, no–”
The bastard didn’t let me finish my sentence because he cut me off with a kiss, his tongue slipping into my mouth without any struggle. Harry immediately deepened the kiss, turning his head to the right to get better access. My beer bottle slipped out of my grasp, falling on the wool-covered carpeted floor that prevented it from cracking or making a sound, other than a soft thud.
My hands went up and fisted his hair, tugging at it slightly as Harry groaned into my mouth, causing me to chuckle. I felt him walk towards me as we kissed, until I was being pressed up against a wall. Harry’s hands roamed my body, igniting small fires whether my skin was covered with cloth or not.
I felt his hands go down my butt until they reached the back of my thighs, and I took it as a sign and jumped while wrapping my legs around his hips. Harry held me up, kissing me sweetly and compassionately as he pulled me off the wall and started walking.
He walked and walked and walked, knowing the bungalow like the back of his hand until I heard a door shut. Harry bit my bottom lip as he put me down, the feeling of a soft mattress greeting my back. My hands gripped the back of Harry’s neck as I kissed him, feeling his warm hand slowly slide under my shirt, burning the cold skin of my stomach.
His arm then slide around my waist, pulling me towards him as I pulled him down, closer to me as he kept himself up so he wouldn’t crush me underneath him. My legs were still around his hips, Harry’s mouth leaving small kisses along my jaw line and down to my neck, immediately moving his mouth to where he knew my soft spot was; right under my ear.
A couple of seconds later, I pulled him back up, placing my lips right on top of his in another hard kiss. Slowly, my hands went down to the hem of his T-shirt, pulling it up as Harry pulled away from the kiss, taking the shirt off himself. Although I didn’t have time to gawk over his torso because he pulled me right into another kiss.
This is what I really loved. Not only Harry, but being able to have his body be pressed up right against mine, the feeling of his lips on top of my own as he pulled me into another loving kiss. And that’s exactly how we continued the night; kissing, touching, and disregarding our clothes on the bedroom floor.