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Robin had accepted the invitation to a barbecue at Nick and Ilsa’s eagerly. She was enjoying getting to know them better, and she knew Strike would be there, so that was three people she’d know, and the opportunity to meet more. She was determined to widen her circle of friends in London now that she was single again, and was hoping to meet some of Ilsa’s colleagues.
But soon she was wishing she had stayed at home.
She’d arrived on time, as she always did, bearing a cheesecake to contribute to puddings, and quickly been introduced round. Most of Ilsa’s young colleagues were men, but she had hit it off with a junior doctor called Jo who worked with Nick, and was enjoying chatting to her.
Strike was, of course, late. She was aware of him the moment he arrived, gave him a friendly wave from her seat on a bench in the garden with Jo. She fully intended to make her way over to chat to him at some point, but while she was still chatting to Jo, another of Nick’s colleagues, a registrar called Sian, had moved in and was chatting him up. Robin sighed. She was tall and stunning, with cropped blonde hair and blue eyes, and obviously intelligent if she was a doctor. Just Strike’s type.
“That your boss, the detective?” Jo asked.
“That’s him,” Robin said, smiling fondly.
“He’s Nick’s best mate, isn’t he? Known each other for years, Nick said,” Jo carried on. “Is he single?”
“He is,” Robin had to acknowledge.
“Ah, that’s nice that he’s chatting to Sian, she’s lovely,” said Jo warmly.
This was not what Robin wanted to hear. She would much rather have a reason to dislike the tall blonde. Why? She asked herself. She carried on chatting to Jo, but her attention kept getting snagged by the way Strike and Sian seemed to be hitting it off. Sian was quite clearly flirting now, and she could see Strike was enjoying it. He was smiling more than he usually did, the crinkles round his eyes deepening, one eyebrow raised now and again in amusement.
He looks at me like that sometimes, Robin thought. And then, hot on the heels of that thought, a realisation - I don’t want him to look at her like that. She froze, her conversation with Jo forgotten. Am I... jealous?
She politely excused herself from Jo and made her way indoors to refill her glass and take a moment to think. What’s this about? She asked herself, stood in Nick and Ilsa’s kitchen. Do you fancy him? Examining her heart, she was surprised to find it was more than that. I have feelings for him, she realised. I don’t want him to go out with Sian.
She jumped when Strike spoke behind her. She’d not noticed him enter the kitchen. She flushed, had missed what he’d said.
“Sorry, lost in thought. What did you say?” she asked him.
“I said hi,” he said, amused. “Just came to grab a beer from the fridge. How’s your evening going?”
“Yes, good, thanks. Met a girl called Jo, she’s really nice. Who’s that you were chatting to?” Robin asked, as casually as she could.
“She’s called Sian, works with Nick. Nice girl,” said Strike, and he looked like he meant it. Robin ignored the small stab of jealousy she felt at the look in his eyes. He’s not yours to feel possessive over, she told herself. He can chat up who he likes. She was so used to it always being just the two of them in the office, she didn’t want to share him.
They chatted for a few moments, easy company for each other, and then Strike made his way back outside. He joined Nick and his colleagues around the barbecue, but Robin noticed Sian soon drifted in their direction again. Jo had introduced Robin to a group of girls on the patio, and she tried very hard not to notice how Strike and Sian were getting along.
...
Much later, Robin was just coming out of the downstairs loo when she met Strike in the hall. He was collecting his coat from the hooks by the front door.
“Oh, are you going?” she asked, disappointed. She’d hoped to catch up with him again. She wasn’t sure why, only that she was somehow drawn to be near him, to try to work out what she was feeling.
“Yeah,” he said. “Sian asked if I’d walk her up to the Tube, as it’s dark.”
Robin sighed inwardly. She knew what that meant. She suddenly really didn’t want him to go.
“Will you come back?” she asked.
Strike had the grace to flush slightly. Only Robin would have spotted it in the dimly lit hallway. “I don’t know,” he said, honestly. It rather depended on what happened when they got to the station. He had a feeling he’d be invited to accompany Sian home, and he was intending to take her up on the offer. It had been a while.
Now or never, thought Robin.
“I’d like it if you came back,” she said, slowly.
He looked at her sideways, eyes narrowing, puzzled. “Why?” he asked.
She stepped up to him, eyes searching his, and reached up to gently pull him down into a kiss. She kissed his lips lightly, and kissed along his mouth to the side of it, then back. She felt his initial... not resistance, exactly, but he didn’t immediately respond.
Then she parted her lips gently, her tongue reaching to explore, and felt him melt into her. Suddenly he was kissing her back. Heat surged through her as his tongue met hers. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer.
Eventually, trembling, she pulled back. “That’s why,” she said, shyly.
Strike stared at her, dazed, and then a slow smile spread across his face. “I’ll come back,” he promised.