She shivered. “Aaron…”
“But it’s not just desire I feel,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “I do feel the same way you do. When I looked up in the surgery that day and saw you standing in the door, my heart leapt—I can’t think of any other way to describe it. And it still does it each time I look at you. I love the way we like the same things. I love your sense of humor, and how you laugh all the time—you get me. Do you know how wonderful that feels?”
She pressed her fingers to her mouth as emotion overwhelmed her. “Oh, Aaron…”
“I love watching you,” he said softly, tipping his head as if her emotion fascinated him. “I love watching you sit on the floor with my dogs and the way you take the time to find that spot behind their ear that makes their back leg twitch. I love how you butter toast with a spoon if you can’t find a knife, and how you put marmalade on so thick it drips off the edge. I love that little noise you make when I kiss you—the same noise you make when you’re eating chocolate, by the way—a cross between a sigh and a moan that gives me a hard-on in seconds.”
Her cheeks grew warm and she dropped her gaze, but he slid a finger beneath her chin and lifted it so her eyes met his again.
“I can’t love you yet,” he said simply, “but somehow, I think I do.”
They studied each other for a long, long time.
“Okay,” she said eventually. “So that’s a yes to seeing each other again, then?”
His lips curved up. “That’s a yes.” He bent his head and touched his lips to hers for a tender kiss. Then he leaned back against the bench.
“It won’t be easy,” she said.
“No, it won’t. But life is fleeting, and I’m not going to give up on a chance of happiness just because it’s hard. We need time, Bridget. I need to sort things out with Nita, and work out what’s happening with Mateo. You need time on your own to make sure Mal’s out of your system. We need to date and phone and text and Facebook and go to the movies and make love as often as we can and just let it happen.”
Hope bloomed inside her, as sweet and beautiful as his kiss. “That sounds lovely.”
“I’ll be down next weekend. Maybe we can start then?”
“My only problem is that it’s your time with Mateo. I don’t want to intrude on that. It’s his special time with you, and I don’t want Nita to think I’m pushing in on it.”
He nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll still stay with him on Friday and Saturday night. But I thought—if you’re up for it—we could occasionally all go out to the movies or something on Saturday, or maybe meet up for breakfast on Sunday morning. And then I thought that whereas I usually fly back on Sunday evening, I could spend the night with you and take an early flight up on Monday.”
She couldn’t stop her smile of joy. “Okay. And maybe on the weekends that you stay up here, I can sometimes fly up to spend a few nights with you?”
“I’d like that.” He twirled a strand of her hair around his finger. “As long as it means lots of sex.”
“Oh, lots and lots of sex.”
“Lots and lots and lots…” He pulled her toward him and kissed her again.
When she eventually moved back, she felt like caramel inside, all sweet and warm and gooey. She leaned against him, and he put his arm around her. “It doesn’t solve the ultimate problem that we live over five hundred miles apart,” she added.
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Is it stupid to set out on a journey without knowing if we stand a chance of reaching the destination?”
He kissed the top of her head. “That’s part of the adventure, isn’t it? If what we have is strong enough to stand the test of time and distance, then we’ll be able to work it out. We don’t know what will happen over the next few months or years. There are all kinds of unforeseen events in store for us, some good, some bad. Hopefully we’ll work together to overcome them. I’m excited to try, and it feels good to be excited about life again.”
“Can I say I love you back, then, if we accept that it can’t be love, but that we can’t think of a name for whatever we’re feeling?”
He chuckled. “Go ahead.”
“I love you, Aaron.”
He lowered his lips to hers, and she lifted her arms around his neck and returned the kiss with all her heart.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mal Wilkinson was halfway through his third pint.
Usually, he didn’t get to the bar until around eight o’clock on Sunday evening because invariably he was at Bridget’s for dinner and had trouble getting away, but with her off God-knew-where it had left him at a loose end around that time for the last few weeks. Consequently, it had only just gone seven, so he’d drunk too much too early, but he didn’t really care. The uncomfortable feeling he’d had in his stomach since the day of their wedding only went away when he was plastered, so he’d been plastered a lot lately.
“Mal?”
He turned his head at the sound of the woman’s voice, and for a moment he just stared, thinking he’d somehow conjured her up by dreaming about her. Then he blinked—no, it really was her, standing before him. His jaw dropped. She’d always been beautiful, but tonight she looked stunning, he wasn’t sure why. It could have been the bright blue top she wore that matched her eyes—a new item he hadn’t seen before. Maybe it was because he hadn’t seen her for a while, and when they were apart, he always forgot how beautiful she was. Or perhaps it was the look on her face—she had a sparkle in her eyes and a defiant lift to her chin he didn’t remember having seen before.
“Birdie!”
This was the longest they’d gone on a break, and after his phone call to her that had ended so abruptly, he’d started to wonder how long she was going to carry it on. But she’d come back to him. Thank Christ. He surprised himself with the strength of the relief that rushed through him.
He rose to take her in his arms, but to his surprise she stepped back and held up a hand. “No,” she said. “Sit down, Mal.”
He blinked a few times, then lowered his butt to the seat. This was new. Usually, whenever they got back together she was tearful and thankful that the argument was all over. Usually, she threw her arms around him and told him she never wanted it to happen again.
“What’s up?” he said. He shouldn’t have started drinking so early. His brain felt a bit muddled.
She raised an eyebrow. “What’s up?” she repeated. A corner of her mouth curved up.
He went to ask her what was so funny, but the words trailed off as she took her hand out of the pocket of her jacket and placed something on the table. He looked down—it was her engagement ring.
“Aw,” he said, impatience flooding him. “Come on, Birdie. Don’t go all dramatic on me. I know I fucked up with the wedding, but do we have to go through all this? I shouldn’t have done it. I’ve taken my punishment, haven’t I? We’ve had the break, I’ve learned my lesson… Come on, babe. Let’s put it behind us and move on.”
Her brows drew together. “I really don’t know what I ever saw in you.”
“What?”
She glanced around the relatively quiet bar. “I didn’t want to do this here—I went around to your house, but when you weren’t there, I figured you were at the bar. Well, I’m not waiting, so we’ll have to do it here. I’m not making up with you, Mal. I wanted to give you the ring back, and I wanted to see you one last time to…” She pressed her lips together.
“To what?”
“To prove to myself that I’m over you.” Her gaze slid down him, and there was no light in her eyes, no fire. “And I am.”
“Don’t say that.” He was tired of playing games. “Come on, sweetheart…”
“I’m not your sweetheart, not any longer. I’ve met someone else.”
He stared at her. An icy coldness filtered through his veins. “You’ve been cheating on me?”
“You can only cheat on someone if you’re in a relationship. You ended our relationship the day you didn’t tur
n up for our wedding.”
“I panicked about getting married,” he said, “that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you anymore.”
“It’s always about what you want. Have you given any thought to how I felt that morning? The moment when I knew you weren’t at the registry office?”
He met her gaze, then lowered his to the floor. The truth was that he hadn’t, not really. He’d been so caught up in his own panic that all he’d been able to think about was how he could get out of it with the least hassle possible. He’d told his best man on the morning that he wasn’t going through with it. Lee had been angry, but he’d backed him up, and the only thing Mal had been forced to do was talk to Hitch, because Lee had refused to do that. Hitch had been angry, of course, but they’d always gotten on well, and Mal had hoped that he’d eventually calm down and they could be mates again when he and Bridget got back together.
He’d assumed they would. They always did. This was their life—making love, fighting, breaking up, getting back together. He loved it, loved being with her. Sometimes she got on his nerves when she kept on about spending more time with him, but he always got his own way in the end.
His heart raced, and his stomach churned uneasily. “I know it must have been awful, and I am sorry.”
Her face clouded. “We weren’t perfect, but right up until that moment I was prepared to marry you. I was going to promise to love you and look after you for the rest of my life, and you threw that in my face.”
“It wasn’t like that,” he protested. “That wasn’t what it was about at all.”
“Yes, it was. And it makes me incredibly sad that you can’t see that.”
He swallowed hard. She was really leaving him? “Who have you met?” he wanted to know. “It’s only been a fucking week.”
“It’s been two weeks, but that’s irrelevant. He’s just a friend, but I’m hoping it might be more.”
He’d never cheated on her, and she’d never cheated on him before, as far as he knew. “I can’t believe you’d do that to me.”
He’d hoped to rile her up, to provoke her into an outburst, but she just surveyed him with a cool gaze. “I’m not doing anything to you. Two weeks ago, you dumped me. Now, I’m free. I came here to say goodbye properly. I hope you find someone else. And when you do, make sure you treat her right, eh?”
She really was leaving him. Fury blasted through him. How dare she! “I don’t need you,” he said, his hand tightening to a fist on the bar. “I’ve never needed you. I’m always turning girls away. I’ll have another one in seconds, and at least she won’t nag me all the time and make my life a fucking misery.”
“Goodbye, Mal.” She turned and walked away.
“You’ll regret it,” he yelled. “You’ll be begging me to take you back—you always do.”
But she’d slipped through the door, and he wasn’t sure if she’d even heard him.
He covered his face with his hands. She wasn’t coming back—he knew that in his heart. He’d lost her. He’d really lost her. And he only had himself to blame.
It was the beer, of course—he’d drunk too much. That was why he couldn’t stop the tears coursing down his face.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cole stood in front of the mirror by the front door and admired his reflection. The day before, he’d had his brown hair shaved above each ear and around the back of his head, and the middle had been dyed a bright blond. Normally, he couldn’t have gotten away with such an extreme hairstyle, but he’d just been suspended from school—for pushing a little shit of a kid around, of all things. The principal could go fuck himself, he thought vehemently, and so could the kid—he’d told the brat that he’d get him for snitching. He’d find him on a dark night and break a bone or two. That would teach him.
He smirked as he let himself out the front door and strolled down the path to the main road.
They thought suspension was a punishment—how stupid was that? Now he got into trouble if he went to school! He hoped they’d expel him. He didn’t care if they sent him to another school—he’d get expelled from that one too. It would be a challenge he would be happy to take on.
He pulled out an expensive smartphone, swiped his finger across the screen, and began to play a game, walking toward the city center as he did so. He’d spend the afternoon in the shops, he decided, and maybe get himself a new pair of trainers, if the assistant was looking the wrong way.
He’d been walking about ten minutes when he had a prickling sensation on the back of his neck. He stopped and looked over his shoulder, certain someone was following him, but there was nobody there. Frowning, he walked on, then stopped again, getting the same eerie feeling. Again, he saw nobody, and he shrugged and turned to continue walking on.
And bumped straight into someone. He stopped with a gasp and automatically stepped back. He continued to retreat as he looked up to see a man towering over him.
He stopped when his back met a wall, and stared up at the guy, his heart hammering. “Who the fuck are you?” he snapped, attempting bravado.
The guy tilted his head to the side and surveyed him. He was dressed in jeans and a smart shirt, and he looked as if he could have been a lawyer or a police officer, but something in his steel-gray eyes made Cole shiver.
“Have you heard of the blue-ringed octopus?” he asked.
Cole blinked. “What?”
“It’s the size of a golf ball.” The man held up a hand with the tip of his thumb touching the tip of his middle finger to illustrate the size. “It carries enough poison to kill twenty-six adults within minutes, and there’s no antidote. It’s one of the world’s most venomous animals.”
Cole stared at him. Normally, when fronted up by kids of his own age or younger, he used his height and weight to overpower them and push them around, and he wasn’t afraid of a fight. He’d never fought a grown-up, though, and he’d never met any guy like this, whose words somehow dripped with menace, even though he sounded like his biology teacher.
Cole’s tongue had stuck to the roof of his mouth as all his saliva disappeared. He disengaged it, cleared his throat, and tried to speak. “What the fuck are you talking about?” He meant to sound rebellious, but it came out as a squeak.
“The venom has several violent effects,” the man said. “Nausea, respiratory arrest, heart failure, paralysis, and blindness, to name a few.”
Cole shook his head, wanting the man to stop, wanting to flee, but his feet wouldn’t move. Had the guy injected him with this venom? Was that why he felt paralyzed?
“If artificial respiration is started in time, it’s possible to survive it.” The man leaned closer as if telling Cole a secret. “However—and this is just a rumor, by the way—it’s said that it turns your dick purple and shrinks it to the size of a walnut. It’s agony, apparently, and it never looks normal again.”
Cole felt himself shrivel at the thought. He couldn’t believe his ears. He’d been threatened before, by kids bigger and older than him, but he’d never felt this scared.
“Apparently it’s tasteless, too,” the man said. “If it was in a burger, or a piece of fried chicken, or a pizza topping, you’d never know about it until it was too late.” His voice was calm—he could have been reading the rugby results—but his slate-gray eyes were hard.
“Who are you?” Cole whispered.
The man straightened. “You can call me Mr. Reed.”
Reed… wait, wasn’t that the surname of the little shit who’d had him suspended?
His heart shuddered to a stop as he realized this must be the boy’s father. Cole’s own dad was currently lying on their sofa, drunk at two-thirty in the afternoon. For a brief moment, he felt a swell of envy that Mateo had someone like this looking out for him.
He swallowed hard. “You… c-can’t threaten m-me!”
The man raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t, have I?” He pushed off the wall, turned, and walked away.
“I’ll tell someone!” Cole screame
d. “I’ll go to the police!”
The man’s laughter echoed up the road before he disappeared around a corner. Only then did Cole realize that the man was right—he hadn’t touched him—hadn’t really threatened him at all. If he were to repeat their conversation, it would sound as if the guy had merely given him a nature lesson.
For some reason, though, his legs had turned to jelly, and he slid slowly down the wall onto his butt, where he was to stay for a long, long time.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
For the first few months, Aaron and Bridget took things slow.
Or, at least, they tried. Aaron spent his time in Wellington with his son as usual, but stayed Sunday nights with Bridget in her new apartment. Every other weekend, she flew up to Kerikeri and joined him in Russell. It was exactly as they’d planned, and yet in between the few hours they had together, they phoned, texted, and messaged almost constantly.
Bridget would have thought she was overdoing it, if Aaron hadn’t been just as bad. She’d be working in the shop, helping a customer with a bra fitting and bzzzz! Her phone would announce the arrival of a text. She’d sneak out to answer it, then reply with a smile on her lips, knowing it would only be a few minutes before another one would turn up.
She did her best to let Aaron spend as much time alone with his son as he could when they were in Wellington, but it wasn’t long before Mateo was asking his father if Bridget was going to join them when they went to the movies or to a museum, and she grew incredibly fond of the boy.
Mateo had gone into school on the Monday after she and Aaron had decided to try to make a go of it, and he’d finally reported the bullies who’d made his life such a misery. One of the boys had threatened Mateo, which had been scary for a time as the police had told them that the kid had done some pretty nasty stuff in the past. But for some reason he had completely backed off afterward and not gone near him again. Bridget suspected Aaron might have had something to do with it, although he’d just raised an eyebrow when she’d asked him suspiciously if it was his doing. Whatever had happened, Mateo got through November and December without further incident, and even though Bridget knew he didn’t exactly enjoy school, at least he was no longer scared to go.
Persuading Spring: A Sexy New Zealand Romance (The Four Seasons Book 4) Page 20
