What Trouble Is: A Short Story

by Kylie Scott

  There were something’s about the new world he’d never get used to.

  And the next time he went out, he’d take more bullets.

  She was younger than him by a couple of years. About thirty, perhaps. Striking with her stubborn chin and pert nose. Her blonde hair appeared to have been cut short without the benefit of a mirror. She had three studs in one ear, two in the other. At least one tattoo. God only knew what she looked like beneath the army green jacket, he could only see her black jean clad legs and heavy boots. And her eyes. They were big and brown and staring about in awe. They took in the fruit and vegetable patch in the front yard, the shutters he’d built to secure the windows. Everything seemed to delight her.

  She’d been almost catatonic in the car but now…

  “It’s lovely, Aiden.”

  He ducked his head, pleased. “Thank you. Come in.”

  She wandered inside, boots tapping on the hardwood floors he’d polished up himself. He and Mia had worked for years on the place, bringing it up to scratch. Then she’d gotten sick.

  Lindsay stopped at a bedroom and peered in. “That’s what happened to the contents of the supermarket.”

  “Well. I didn’t think anyone else was going to use it…”

  “It’s smart to stockpile, Aiden.” She smiled back at him. Her mouth was potent, he kept finding himself staring. What on earth must she think? “You’ve got yourself set up nicely here, haven’t you?”

  “I’ve certainly tried.”

  She kept going, sticking her head into the bathroom, the next door on her side. It didn’t feel intrusive, oddly enough. On some level he liked having her in his space. She was after all an unattached, attractive woman. In his house. On his territory.

  “Ooh, a real claw foot bath. Do you have water?”

  “Yes.” He did his best not to think about her wet. And naked. In his tub. “Umm… ah, from the tank. Neighbors have them too, so shortage shouldn’t be a problem any time soon.”

  “Good for you,” she said, sounding envious.

  He frowned, thoughtful. How hard had it been for her, being out there? What conditions had she been forced to exist in? Certainly in no place as pleasant as his. He couldn’t imagine her on her own, hungry and frightened. Alone. She seemed so strong but the idea was repugnant to him. What if she’d been alone when that lunatic had caught up with her? Stuck in town with no way out and the infected closing in on her. This brave, beautiful girl dead and gone.

  No.

  He crossed his arms, leant back against the wall. “Lindsay, if you want to stay for a few days and rest up. . .”

  “Thank you, Aiden. That’s very kind.”

  “Least I can do.” He shrugged.

  It was a start. They could see how they got on. See what developed when she finally took off that big coat of hers. Which was not the way to be thinking but he couldn’t bloody help it. Unsurprisingly, his blood ran hotter and harder at the thought.

  She emerged into the kitchen/dining area, stopped and looked back at him. “You have a wonderful home, Aiden.”

  “The mortgage and rates have certainly improved recently.” He smiled as pleasantly as he could manage. “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Please.”

  “Beer?”

  “Water’s fine. Thanks.”

  Aiden grabbed a couple of water bottles out of the box of same, situated at the end of the kitchen island. “Here…”

  And Lindsay stood there, rifle pointed at him, mouth a flat, tight line. “I need to know you haven’t been bitten.”

  He bit back a growl. “What is this?”

  “I’m sorry, but it’s important.” And she did look sorry, but she didn’t shift the gun one iota. Fuck it.

  “Don’t.” His hands clenched tight into fists. “I haven’t been bitten, Lindsay. I’m not infected.”

  The nozzle dipped but it didn’t disappear. “I need to be certain. That guy back there, he’d been bitten but he still could have passed for normal. He was still…”

  “This is my house,” he said, widening his stance. Pissed off beyond belief. God, he wanted to shake some sense into her. “My home, Lindsay. I invited you in…”

  She gave a quick lick of the lips and his cock twitched in his pants, mindless of the firearm currently pointed its way. “Please, Aiden. I want to have a drink and put my gun down. Maybe later put my head on a pillow thinking for the first time in weeks I’m safe. That I’m not going to get eaten in my sleep by an infected. But I can only think that if I know you’re clean.”

  He ground his teeth, trying to control his temper. Trying to think. “Fine. Cuts both ways though, doesn’t it? You prove that you’re not bitten too. I find I have all sorts of doubts about you right now.”

  She blinked repeatedly, swallowed. “Alright.”

  “Being a gentleman, I’ll of course volunteer to go first.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome.” He’d have slammed his empty pistol down on the wooden bench but it would harm the finish. Aiden toed off his sneakers and pulled off his socks, ripped his polo shirt off over his head. Paused for a moment.

  Her dark eyes on him were huge, her lips slightly parted. Not the face of a woman thinking of shooting him. His breathing calmed as some of his anger leeched away.

  “So?” He did a slow turn for her, arms spread wide. Strutting just a little. “Satisfied?”

  “Yes. The pants, please.”

  “But of course.” He undid the button and zip, pushed them off over his hips. Totally unselfconscious. Treating it like a dare. And it was. She just didn’t know it yet.

  Or maybe she did.

  Lindsay eyed up his black boxer briefs and his half-hard cock starting to tent the front. Twin spots of vivid pink burned bright on her cheeks. She swallowed and blinked some more. “Can you turn around please?”

  “Are you going to shoot me in the back?”

  “No!” She screwed up her face and he almost felt like an ass for a moment. But then this was his home and she was holding a gun on him while he stood there in his underpants for fucksake. The lustful looks were nice but a man had his pride.

  He kicked his cargo shorts aside and turned another slow circle. “Well?”

  “Thank you,” she said simply.

  “You’re welcome. And now it’s your turn.” Aiden crossed his arms over his chest and waited. Watched.

  Lindsay’s chin rose high then she nodded. She placed the rifle onto the dining room table beside her, pulled out a chair and sat down, started in on unlacing her Doc Martin boots. It seemed to take forever. She kept darting looks at him, never quite meeting his eyes. His chest. His thighs. The growing interest in his boxers.

  Her eyes hovered there the longest.

  There was only one place this was going to end and she had to know it.

  Hot, angry sex and lots of it.

  So why was she taking so long? His scalp prickled, stomach tightening with need. Maybe he should just help her.

  Eventually she dumped both boots and socks, stood and eased off her jacket. Beneath was a large plain black t-shirt to match the black jeans. And marks on her neck. Bruises. A necklace of black and blue finger prints that made his stomach pitch.

  “The other man did that to you?” he asked, something jumping in his jawline. Forgetting about his growing hard on, he was so furious on her behalf. How could anyone hurt her? Really? She was so vibrant. So brave. Even if she had annoyed the shit out of him a moment ago, she had reason for her fears. They weren’t baseless.

  “Yes, he did.”

  “I’m glad you killed him.” Fuck. He’d like to kill him twice.

  She stopped and nodded. Then her hands started fiddling with a silver studded leather belt then the jeans button fly. She peeled the black denim down long legs with a hand to the back of the chair for balance. Hesitant or not, Lindsay slowly stripping for him was the sexiest thing he’d seen in years. The highlight of his recent lifetime.
r />   “Nothing on my legs,” she said.

  “So I see.”

  Her limbs were long and shapely and entirely to his liking. She dropped her head, teeth working her bottom lip. Anxious.

  “Awkward, isn’t it?” He stalked a step or two forward, wanting to be closer. Looming just a little. “Now you know what I felt like. Keep going.”

  She flashed him a shaky smile. “Pay back is a bitch.”

  “That it is,” he agreed. Her panties were small and boy leg and black. Surprise, surprise. Aiden breathed deep, needing the extra oxygen. “You have my complete attention. Keep going, Lindsay.”

  She licked her lips and her hands smoothed over her hips, fingers clutching the hem of her t-shirt nervously.

  “Whenever you’re ready.”

  Ever so slowly she lifted the t-shirt high and set it on the table. Waited.

  Not a sound came out of her.

  He just stared. And stared some more. Stunned.

  There really wasn’t enough oxygen in the room.

  “Holy fucking hell,” he said, eventually.

  She said nothing, hands protectively covering the small round of her belly.

  “Lindsay… you’re pregnant.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Aiden stared. He couldn’t help it.

  The side of her mouth quirked. “Relax, Aiden. It’s not yours.”

  Her small round breasts overflowed a black cotton bra, perfect, pale mounds.

  Gorgeous.

  Pregnant.

  “Fucking hell.”

  “You already said that,” she noted.

  He was kneeling in front of her, gently feeling the swell of her abdomen even before he’d consciously made any such decision. The hard wooden floor was cold beneath him, the air suddenly chill on his skin. “How far along?”

  “I think about sixteen weeks.”

  And she was on her own. Good, God. “What happened to the father?”

  “It was only our third date. Maybe I shouldn’t have put out so fast, huh?” Her laugh was low and rough. “Last time I saw him was Christmas Eve when we. . . you know. I’m not sure what happened to him. I holed up with a friend but she killed herself a month back. Drank a bottle of bleach.”

  “Oh, no. Sweetheart.” His hands rested gently on her hips, thumbs brushing over her small bump.

  Her eyes were large and liquid, barely concealing the horror. “It’s okay. These things happen.”

  “Yes. Sadly, they do.” He rubbed the palms of his hands over the sides of her thighs, warming her up, distracting her. “So you think sixteen weeks?”

  She nodded.

  “You’ve been eating alright? No drinking or drugs?”

  Her fingers stretched wide, gaze wandering away from him. “I’ve been eating as well as I can. No booze or drugs. Though booze might have helped a time or two.”

  “No wonder you’re so fierce.” Her skin was warm and supple beneath his fingers. There was a sprinkling of black stars tattooed on her side, heading towards the curve of her hip. So close. His lips were on the same level as the tempting indent of her belly button. “You’ve been protecting your baby.”

  Her mouth opened then shut. Opened again. “That’s why I thought I’d head out west. Hopefully there’ll be less infected. Less survivors to worry about.”

  Lindsay out there. Pregnant and alone. No. Absolutely not. Not before and especially not now, no matter how she wanted to play this. “No. You should stay here. With me.”

  “Aiden, that’s very sweet. But I’m not your problem.”

  “You want to give birth on your own?”

  “No.”

  “Well?” He raised a brow, waiting, willing her to be sensible.

  Her nose scrunched up. “And you know how to deliver babies, do you?”

  “I was a paramedic.”

  Lindsay stared down at him for a moment, her shock palpable, and then burst into tears. Her hands covered her crumpled face. Poor love.

  Aiden got to his feet, picked her up and carried her into the lounge room. He sat on the overpriced couch which Mia had insisted on buying, Lindsay settled on his lap. He held her gently and let her cry herself out. It took a while. He murmured nonsense to her and waited. Tears didn’t discomfort him and she obviously needed the release.

  “Are you alright?” he asked, eventually.

  Happily there was a box of tissues on the coffee table. She mopped her pink face, bottom lip still trembling. “Sorry.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Aiden? You’ve really delivered a baby before?”

  “Yes. A couple of times. They didn’t always wait until we get the mothers to hospital.”

  She sniffed and smiled at him. “Wow.”

  He smiled back. Hoping she didn’t notice the twitch his cock gave because a pretty girl was sitting on his lap mostly naked, grinning at him like he was her hero. “It-it’ll be fine.”

  “Wow. Again.”

  A stray tear trailed down the side of her cheek and he caught it, wiped it away. “There we go.”

  Their faces were very close. He couldn’t actually recall the last time he’d been this close to a woman. Not that there hadn’t been other women since Mia, but still, it had been a while. His cock swelled inside his boxers again, delighted with the feel of her soft ass. Fuck, she had to feel it. Blood was rushing to dick with gay abandon. “Why don’t I you get you something to eat?”

  Unfortunately she was too busy blowing her nose. She didn’t appear to hear. “You’re sure about this? About me staying?”

  “Of course.”

  “I held a gun on you twice, Aiden.”

  He clucked his tongue. “Old news. All’s forgiven.”

  “Oh, really? You were furious a moment ago.” She shifted on his lap, scraping her lovely bottom against his erection. An odd look crossed her face. Her pink mouth opened and her gaze jumped to his. “Huh.”

  “I’m afraid that’s outside of my control.” His voice sounded like it had been dragged a few miles behind a car recently. “You’d better hop up.”

  Lindsay gave him a tight smile and climbed off his lap. “Right. Guess you really aren’t that angry at me.”

  “No.” Though the truth was, he’d wanted to lick her all over angry or not. But the situation was far more complicated than he had ever anticipated. A baby. Sweet Jesus. Aiden stood, one hand covering the hard-on tenting his underwear for decency’s sake. “We should probably put our clothes back on.”

  The side of her mouth twitched and his cock did likewise. Damn it.

  Pregnant.

  Stranger.

  Ice cold water.

  With ice cubes floating in it.

  She held her hand out to him.

  “Come on.” He took Lindsay’s hand and gently brought her to her feet. “Clothes.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Lindsay woke up in the middle of Aiden’s big spare-bed all alone. Feeling… good.

  Glowing, even.

  Chamber pots were back in fashion. There was something she could have lived without experiencing. She saw to the necessities, relieving the abominable pressure that had built up in her bladder overnight. Washed using the bucket of water of fresh water he’d left in the bathroom, the morning air chill on her damp skin. A fossick in the cabinet turned up a new toothbrush for use.

  There were noises coming from other parts of the house. The heavy thud of Aiden’s busy footsteps going to and fro in the hallway. She wrapped herself in a fluffy, grey towel and ventured forth.

  Wanting to see him.

  Her belly stirred nervously.

  He was in the room next door, the store room. There were tidy towers of canned goods. Neat rows of bottles of water and juices. Straight stacks of long life milk in tetra packs and powered form. Boxes of batteries. The display of first-aid supplies was organized to perfection. Aiden might have touched upon a few obsessive, compulsive traits in his time. It was cute.

  He was on his knees, arranging bottles of s
omething into alphabetical order by the look. Blue jeans fitting his firm ass just right. A black long-sleeve t-shirt pushed up to his elbows. Dark hair neatly combed. Her fingers itched to mess it up. To touch him anywhere, actually.

  She was far too fond of him. It wasn’t smart but it was too late to stop.

  And life was short. She knew that now.

  “Morning,” she said, sounding timid. Which wasn’t her at all.

  “Hey. Hi.” He gave her a small smile, rose to his feet. She’d forgotten how tall he was. The warmth in his pale blue eyes chased away some of the morning after nerves. “How are you feeling?”

  “Good.”

  “Good,” he repeated.

  “What are you up to?”

  He rubbed his palms on his jeans. “Well, I went into town and grabbed a few things. Your pack’s on the kitchen table.”

  “Wow. You’ve been out already.”

  He confirmed this with a nod. “You must be hungry. Let me get you some breakfast.”

  “That would be great.”

  He stepped around her, heading for the door. Bottles of baby food. Cans of formula. Wet wipes. Big bright boxes of nappies. That’s what he’d been organizing. She stared at it all, amazed. Speechless. Tears pricked her eyes. He’d done this for her. Without a word. Without expectations, even.

  Her hands fluttered at her sides. “Aiden.”

  “Hmm?”

  “You’ve been really busy.” An understatement.

  He was right behind her, the heat of his body reaching out, deliciously warm. “I hope that’s alright. Thought I’d best get started…”

  She nodded furiously. “It’s fine.”

  His hand slid into hers, long fingers stroking. “Are you sure? You sound a little shaky.”

  She nodded again, not trusting herself to speak. Not crying. Stupid hormones. “It’s great, Aiden.”

  “Alright then.”

  “I umm… I really appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”

  He turned her towards him, a grave expression on his face. “Lindsay. I want to look after you and the baby.”