Page 25 of Flowers Go Flying in Crumbleton
‘Maybe grab the planks instead?’ said Murray, running his fingers distractedly through his damp hair before wincing.
‘You okay?’ she said.
Murray grunted and gave her the tiniest nod. He was clearly in pain. The poor guy would probably be a lot more okay if she hadn’t turned up out of the blue and forced him to stand around outside wearing nothing more than a towel while she played stuck-in-the-mud.
She needed to get out of there so that he could rest!
Milly quickly reached out and rested her palms on the rough wooden planks. If she could just shift her weight enough, she might be able to wiggle one foot free.
It probably wasn’t the best look as she belly-flopped forward onto the planks… but it seemed to be working. Slowly but surely – accompanied by a horrifyingly loud farting noise - the mud relinquished its grip on one leg and then the other.
‘Yes!’ she crowed in triumph.
‘Grab on!’ said Murray.
Milly did as she was told. Taking hold of Murray’s ankles, she wriggled and shuffled her way further onto the planks.
This definitely wasn’t the way she’d dreamed of feeling him up for the first time!
Now all she had to do was get to her feet without toppling straight back in again. Easier said than done.
Milly was about to bite the bullet and use Murray’s hairy legs as a human climbing frame when his hand appeared in front of her. She hesitated. By this point, she was covered in mud, and her hands were slick with the stuff. She’d already covered his ankles in gloop…
‘Take my hand!’ said Murray.
Milly sighed. Well… it couldn’t get much worse, could it? What was a bit more mud?!
‘Got ya!’ Murray cheered as he hauled her to her feet with surprising strength for someone who’d been in hospital all weekend.
‘Thanks!’ she gasped, finding herself eye-to-eye with him. ‘Erm… I’m sorry about all the mud!’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ he said, wiping his hand on the towel and giving her a knee-meltingly slow smile. ‘I’ll just have to get back in the shower again. I’m not complaining.’
A strangely strangled squeak came from somewhere, and it took Milly a couple of seconds to realise it had come from her own mouth.
‘Come on,’ said Murray, looking concerned again. ‘I think you’d better come inside and get cleaned up.’
Milly nodded. Right now, she was just grateful that he wasn’t demanding answers as to why she’d been loitering - knee-deep in mud outside his home.
Murray turned and grabbed her bag in his free hand. Then, without letting go of her hand, he led the way slowly along the planks. Milly wasn’t about to complain. The man of her dreams was right in front of her – practically naked - and looking decidedly edible. If it wasn’t for the fact that she was covered from head to toe in splatters of stinky mud, she might have thought she’d died and gone to heaven.
Milly took a deep breath, doing her best to quell the tingles that were busy running down her arm and spreading throughout her body. It didn’t help. She caught a waft of something deliciously citrussy… orange shower gel maybe?
Now she was shivering… but it had nothing to do with being cold and everything to do with the bare, muscled back in front of her, and the warm point of connection between her fingers and Murray’s.
As soon as they reached the deck, Murray dropped her hand and turned to face her. Milly met his eyes, suddenly feeling shy.
He looked… angry? In pain? Just plain confused?
She wasn’t sure which, but there was definitely something intense about his gaze and she had to look away after a couple of seconds.
Clearing her throat awkwardly, Milly glanced around, searching for something to say. She’d never visited the old trawler before. It was rusty and weatherworn, and she couldn’t quite believe anyone would choose to live all the way out here on such a wreck.
‘I think you’d better come in,’ said Murray, beating her to it. ‘You’re shivering!’
‘But I’m covered in mud!’ said Milly, turning back to him, still feeling slightly dazed. As keen as she was to take a peek inside, the last thing she wanted to do was leave sludgy footprints in her wake.
‘Hold that thought,’ he said, disappearing inside the trawler.
