by Dean Mayes
Her face lit up.
“Wow, you scrub up quite the gentleman,” Annette complimented as Hayden leaned in to give her a peck on the cheek. He shook Max’s hand.
“Thank you.” Hayden blushed. He turned to Isabelle.
Still smiling, she reached out, touching the back of her hand to his cheek. “Shame about the beard,” she said. “I kinda liked it.”
Hayden’s eyes reflected the twinkling lights hanging along the stone wall behind her. “You look lovely.”
Isabelle felt her cheeks redden, and realising the three of them were staring at her, rolled her eyes. “Okay, you lot, let’s tone it down with the compliments and get something hot to drink. I’m freezing.”
They all laughed. Hayden bent his elbow, offering it to Isabelle, who wound her hand through it.
As the evening performances continued, Hayden, Isabelle, Max, Annette, and Genevieve lounged on a picnic blanket on a patch of lawn under the stone wall. Close to the warmth of a nearby fire pit, Max and Annette huddled together, arms intertwined and a blanket over their legs, while Hayden and Isabelle sat beside them with Genevieve wedged securely between them, eyes glassy with fatigue.
When Genevieve’s head starting nodding, Annette convinced her to scoot across to her lap. Cocooned under the blanket, Genevieve drifted off to sleep. Isabelle cast a sideways glance at Annette and was met with a knowing wink from the older woman.
She would have protested. Maybe she should have protested. But as she felt Hayden’s hand sliding over hers, any resistance she might have felt melted away. Isabelle entwined her fingers in his. He smiled as he invited her closer.
She reclined against him, tentative at first, and rested her head against his chest. He brushed his cheek against her temple and slid his arms underneath hers. Feeling them snug around her waist, Isabelle nestled into his embrace.
“Is this all right?” he whispered, his words caressing her ear.
She turned her head, just enough to invite his lips to hers, touching off a spark. Any pretense of distance or self-preservation was washed away. Her heart fluttered.
It was close to midnight by the time the evening concert began to wind down. The last act wrapped up and the audience began to disperse. A few stragglers continued their conversations around nearby chimineas, sipping from mugs filled with something more robust than hot chocolate or coffee.
Careful not to wake her, Max hoisted up Genevieve, laying her head on his shoulder, while Hayden and Isabelle packed up the basket and blanket.
Hitching the blanket up around Genevieve’s head, Annette craned her neck so she could study the child’s face. “You know, I’m thinking a sleepover is in order.”
Isabelle started to argue but Annette dismissed her. “The night is still young. It’s way too early for you two young people to call time. The dance is on down at the Mechanics Institute. Or there’s the pub? Perfect for a romantic drink. Or…” She flashed Isabelle a devilish grin. “Well, I’m sure you can figure it out.”
“Annette!” Isabelle hissed, trying to stifle a grin.
Before she could protest any further, Max and Annette kissed and hugged them both. “You know where to find her tomorrow,” Max said.
“Afternoon,” Annette added.
With that they turned and strode away.
“Could those two be any more obvious?” Isabelle shook her head as she watched them walk away.
She felt Hayden’s warm hand on her cheek, as he turned her face towards his. She drew herself closer to him, and he gathered her in to his chest.
“I highly doubt it,” he said.
Hayden kissed her long and slow, the glow from the lights dancing over their faces. Everyone and everything melted away. His touch was tender, vital, and Isabelle felt her mind swirl. She pressed against him more eagerly, her tongue searching for his.
A new sensation—a new realisation—evolved in her.
She wanted him.
“I’m not ready for tonight to end,” she whispered.
Hayden found himself unable to say anything at all.
Keeping her gaze fixed upon him, Isabelle stepped back. Gripping his hand in hers, she pulled him along behind her through the dwindling crowd.
~ Chapter 21 ~
HAYDEN KICKED OFF HIS SHOES, REMOVED HIS JACKET, AND RECLINED ON THE SOFA BED NEXT TO THE CRACKLING fire in Isabelle’s cosy living room. He gazed at her, firelight dancing in his eyes. Isabelle stood at the end of the bed and let her coat fall to the floor. Her sweater hung from one shoulder, her skin catching the light from the dancing flames. She pulled off her boots and climbed onto the bed, grinning as she approached him on all fours with a feline grace.
Hayden’s chest rose and fell underneath his shirt. He was captivated.
He shifted as Isabelle straddled him and moved herself inward, pressing her belly against him.
Reaching down, she took his head in her hands and drew her fingers through his hair, sliding them over his scalp. Hayden closed his eyes and abandoned himself to her touch.
Hooking his gaze down and across her body, his hand settled on her hip and slid back to cup her buttock. He squeezed it playfully through her denim and she laughed huskily. She inhaled sharply as he pressed her body to his, the strength and confidence in his desire for her radiating from him.
The fingers of his right hand drifted up to the waistband of her jeans, touching her bare skin. She smiled down at him. Bringing his other hand forward, he ran it down her leg, over her calf to her exposed ankle. He caressed the smooth ball of her foot, tracing the fine lines of her sole and lingering on her delicate toes. The sensations sent her head spinning.
Isabelle’s expression had become wanton. She lowered her face and he rose to meet her in a passionate kiss.
Hayden’s hands moved to her waist again, slipping underneath the luxurious softness of her knit to touch her skin. They slid upwards, the pads of his fingers gliding across the ridges of her ribs, and pausing just below her bra. Isabelle hoisted her sweater up and over her head, casting it aside, and reached out to unbutton his shirt and wrench it free.
His warm hands enveloped her breasts and Isabelle issued a soft moan. His thumbs drifted across the delicate cotton and circled her swelling nipples underneath. She let herself melt into the sensation for a moment, then reached around to unhitch her bra. Hayden leaned in, nipping at her skin and circling her areolae with his tongue before gently taking one into his mouth.
Isabelle arched her back and gasped with pleasure. She raked her fingers through his hair and down over his chest. He moaned throatily.
Electrical impulses fired through her body and she pressed herself against him, wet with desire.
Shoving off from him, she grabbed at the waist of her jeans. Hayden assisted and together, breathing heavily, they peeled them from her legs before turning their attention to his.
Free of their clothing, they luxuriated in each other’s bodies. Hayden laid Isabelle down on her back and pressed soft kisses up and down her belly, over her breasts, and up and over her neck.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling him between her legs, through the fabric of his boxers, as he moved against her. He moved his lips down across her belly once more, then farther. He raised his eyes towards her and held her gaze as he took her cotton briefs between his fingers and pulled. Isabelle giggled and slid her thumbs beneath the waistband to help. She hooked her big toe into the waist of his boxers and wrenched them down.
Reaching under the small of her back, Hayden drew her to him and she wrapped her arms around him as their bodies pressed together.
“Oh God,” she gasped, feeling her consciousness slip sideways as she moved against him, heightening the sensation. Hayden withdrew, and in her haze, she was momentarily bewildered until he repositioned himself, took her hands in his and pulled her up so she was straddling him again.
Isabelle lowered herself onto him and it was as if her mind snapped as passion overtook. Hayden kissed her neck and ch
est. Together, they rocked in each other’s embrace, groaning and slick with sweat, their ecstasy absolute.
Hayden began to pant just as Isabelle opened her mouth wide and a broken gasp escaped.
They shuddered, again and again, as the climax crashed over them like a wave, and then they held each other wordlessly, their bodies shaking—totally, utterly, and beautifully spent.
THEY LAY, BODIES INTERTWINED, COVERED only by the cotton sheet. Isabelle rested her head on Hayden’s chest as he enclosed her fingers in his. Though she wasn’t asleep, Isabelle drifted, accompanied by the beat of his heart, while Hayden watched the flames dance.
For the first time in what seemed like forever, his mind was empty. He was fully in this moment, aware only of her soft presence, the feel of her body against his, and an afterglow of contentment that was unlike anything he had ever experienced.
Hayden craned his neck to kiss her forehead. A smile spread across her lips and her eyes fluttered open.
“Hey,” she whispered.
“Hey.”
Sliding his arm down and over her back, Hayden’s fingers drifted over her skin, landing on a ridge. He hadn’t noticed it before and studied it with a practiced touch. A jagged scar, inches long, traversed her ribcage from the left side of her spine.
Anticipating his question, Isabelle wriggled her body under his touch.
“Courtesy of him,” she said. “With the broken end of a beer bottle. The same night he beat Genevieve.”
Hayden didn’t know what to say. He drew his hand back, but Isabelle nudged him. “Oi. I didn’t say to stop.” She smiled and Hayden resumed his gentle stroking of her skin.
“I can’t imagine what you went through,” he whispered. “How could anyone do this?”
Isabelle examined him. “I’m sure you’ve seen a lot in the ER. You’re still surprised?”
Hayden considered her question. “I have.” He was quiet for a few moments. “I’ll never understand it. I can certainly never accept it.”
“Like what happened to the baby you saw?”
Hayden’s hand stopped. He looked down at Isabelle, and she smiled guiltily. “Annette.” Hayden wrestled with the memory.
“I didn’t want anyone to know,” he explained. “What I did was wrong. I was weak.”
“Seems to me you handled it perfectly. You were strong! You were protecting the child, your workmates.”
Hayden’s expression tightened. “I lost control. I know I did. Regardless of what anyone says to the contrary. It’s inexcusable. You’ve experienced so much violence. I don’t want you to see it in me.”
Isabelle turned over onto her elbows and touched his cheek. “You don’t need to hide anything from me, or be ashamed. Just because I experienced violence, it doesn’t mean I think all men are violent. Certainly not you. You reacted to protect. I think what you did was…heroic.”
She leaned in and kissed him. “I think you’re beautiful,” she said. She lay down, resting her head on his chest once more.
The sound of the crackling fire accompanied the ensuing silence.
“So,” Isabelle eventually spoke. “What happens now?”
Hayden exhaled, shaking his head. “Well, I should think about getting up and going to the toilet. I really need to pee.”
Isabelle scowled and dug him in the ribs playfully. Hayden laughed.
“I have nowhere I want to be other than here,” he said, squeezing her for emphasis.
“But you have a life in Adelaide,” Isabelle said with a hint of sadness. “A career. A marriage.”
Hayden shook his head. “There’s nothing left. That life is over. It was over a long time ago. I just didn’t want to accept it.” He seemed to look right through the fire. He tilted his head thoughtfully. “I’m beginning to think Bernadette’s affair was a blessing. I just need to tidy things up. End them properly. But I don’t have to be there.”
He saw a flash of doubt in her, but he remained steadfast. “I don’t want to go back. I have all I need here. My parents’ cottage and time to focus on it. I want to be here, in this place, among these people…” He paused, touching his tongue to his lower lip.
“With you,” he finished.
The quiet strength of his words, the honesty he projected, told Isabelle that Hayden meant what he said. All her doubt was swept aside, and in its place, she felt a peace unlike anything she’d felt before. She lifted her head to kiss him. Their lips met, heat rising again between them.
Isabelle drew away. “It is a pretty little place, your parents’ cottage,” she mused. “You know, I met your dad once. Just after I came back here.”
Hayden blinked. “That was quite a change of subject.”
Isabelle shook her head, as if to clear her mind. She glanced at him awkwardly. “Sorry,” she said. “He helped me shore up the staircase here. In fact, I think it was one of the last jobs he ever did. It was only a few days’ work but the stairs are the strongest they’ve ever been. I didn’t see him again after that.”
Isabelle sensed discomfort when she mentioned his father. Her curiosity was piqued. “You don’t like talking about him?”
Hayden loosed a resigned sigh. “I find it…difficult.”
“What happened between you two? If there’s one thing I do remember from when we were kids, it’s that you seemed to be his shadow.”
Hayden was struggling with this line of discussion.
“Hey,” she said. “I laid out my sorry past. If this…” She paused, waving her hand between them. “Is the start of something good, we need to be upfront.” She finished with a firm, singular nod.
One corner of Hayden’s mouth tugged upwards.
“When Mum was ill, I was flying across every chance I could. I’d talk with her medical team, manage her medications, and ensure Russell had enough support. It was challenging. I certainly racked up the frequent-flyer points.” His smile flashed again, briefly. “When things took a turn for the worse, and they moved her to Melbourne, I was struggling to get here as often. Russell wasn’t coping. Bernadette was taking an increasingly dim view of the circumstances, and that caused friction. Not only between her and me, but between Russell and me.”
Isabelle’s expression seesawed from empathy to surprise to distaste.
“One day, Mum video-called me, telling me I’d better get over as soon as possible. Dad was in a state. I dropped everything. I stayed on the call with her as I was boarding the plane.”
Hayden’s voice faltered and lines furrowed his brow.
“She died as I was driving down the highway from Melbourne Airport. When I got here, Russell was inconsolable. He believed I failed Mum. That I failed him. He was grief-stricken, and he turned his grief on me. Blamed me.”
Hayden lowered his head. “We never did make peace with each other. I didn’t realise it at the time, but his own decline was just starting. He was gone eighteen months later. Pneumonia, or so the clinical notes said. But I knew it was spurred on by a broken heart.”
Isabelle remained silent as she processed Hayden’s sad account. She squeezed closer to him, feeling a need to comfort him.
“He loved you, Hayden,” she said. “Despite what happened between you, I know he loved you.”
Hayden frowned at her, betraying a hint of skepticism. “How could you know?”
Isabelle lifted herself up onto her elbow. “During that time he helped me, he came each day carrying his tools, but not in a chest—not like the one you brought here. It was a leather case, like a doctor’s bag. It had a white cross inside a red circle. Underneath was a name, your name. H. L. Luschcombe.”
Isabelle smiled, fingering the cotton of the sheet.
“I asked him about it. He told me he’d made it himself and was waiting for an occasion to give it to his son.” Isabelle twirled a lock of Hayden’s chest hair in her finger. “He said he hadn’t had an opportunity, because you lived so far away.”
Hayden’s frown lost some of its tension as he digested this. “You
say this was after Mum died?”
“Mm-hmm,” Isabelle said.
Hayden shook his head as frustration, regret, and gratitude swirled about. Eventually he hissed, “Stubborn old bastard. He left his run too late, clearly.”
Isabelle gazed at Hayden. “I am sorry.”
Hayden’s lips tightened and all he could manage was a hasty nod.
Hayden touched Isabelle’s forehead and stroked the side of her face, and the struggle dissipated. Her smile filled his heart and he revelled in her loveliness. “So,” he whispered. “We’ve shared our secrets with one another. Now I think we’re supposed to draw blood from our fingers and press them together.”
Isabelle’s smile broadened. “Well, I’m not going to do that.”
“What to do, then?”
Slowly, Isabelle positioned herself over him, moving in so their noses were touching. She could feel his body respond immediately. “More of this,” she teased.
She pressed her lips to his, banishing all else. Isabelle’s mouth drifted to his cheek, his neck, and his ear, and Hayden felt his head begin to spin.
“You are beautiful,” Hayden whispered.
HAYDEN RETURNED TO THE COTTAGE mid-morning. As much as he’d wanted to stay, he knew Isabelle needed time to prepare for her midday opening for the second day of the Ljusfest.
They’d been reluctant to part from one another, and he was sure their extended “see you later” kisses at the front door would have caught attention. Isabelle had said she expected Hayden back later for dinner and he now found himself stealing frequent glances at his watch, counting down the minutes until he could see her again.
And kiss her again.
And hold her again.
The strength of his longing was overwhelming, and knowing that she felt the same way left him feeling a joy he hadn’t experienced in years.
Entering the cottage, Hayden grumbled at the darkness. He raised the blinds, drew back the curtains and opened the window, allowing in the sweet mountain air.
Isabelle’s comment from last night came back to him. “It’s a pretty little place.”
