by Aria Ford
“I’d like a coffee,” I nodded. “Thanks, Grandpa.”
As I followed him into the kitchen I tried to wipe the smile off my face. I couldn’t stop thinking about Reese and about the kisses we’d shared.
I had coffee with Grandpa and then decided to go for a walk. The farm was cooling off now as the day moved to late afternoon. I could smell the fresh scent of the earth under sunshine and the wind—a light breeze—blew through my hair.
I love it here.
I had always loved the farm. Being in nature gave me such peace. I walked along the path through the fields, staring out at the mountains where they stretched up to the blue sky, white clouds scudding overhead.
When I walked, I stopped in the shade of a tree in the fields. Sat down to think.
It was a lovely afternoon, warm and relaxing. Good for thoughts.
I thought through the extra things I still had to do. More groceries. A doctor’s appointment. Check the farm equipment. Then I let my thoughts turn to the more pleasant things that had been occupying them ever since a few hours ago when I was looking for reception, and likely before.
Reese. I couldn’t get him out of my head. I hadn’t been with someone like this ever before. I found him exciting and interesting and, for all that, also vaguely disturbing.
The whole hypermasculine thing isn’t really working for me.
Even so, I was still laughing, thinking about the tap. I was also impressed.
A lot of guys I know wouldn’t have taken it that well.
I didn’t know many guys besides Grandpa who would have laughed. The ones I knew would mostly either have got mad at me to cover up their own inadequacies, or they would just have got mad. Rodney, my last boyfriend, would have turned it into my fault, telling me I was useless for having turned on the mains before he was through.
The fact that Reese had found it genuinely funny was new to me. New and refreshing.
I’d like to get to know him better, I thought. Get to find out what is behind all those strange opposites inside him.
I sighed. Leaned back on the tree and closed my eyes. It was a beautiful day, warm and sunny. My heart was too happy for worries. I was here, in the blissful wilderness. I was with Grandpa and helping him, which was also helping me. And I had just met a gorgeous guy. Gorgeous and funny and, seemingly, capable of laughing at his own mistakes.
I really liked him.
For the first time in far too long I felt content, relaxed. And happy.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kelly
I made dinner for Grandpa later. I had bought enough ingredients for a week and I decided to make my mom’s Cajun chicken recipe. I was busy in the kitchen when I heard Grandpa in the sitting room. I went over. It sounded like he was making reconstruction work in there.
“Hey, Grandpa?” I called.
He appeared, sweating, from behind the ancient lounge suite. “Just tidying,” he said.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “We’ll eat outside. It’s a hot day.”
He nodded. “Good.”
I stirred the dinner, thinking idly about the day. My body felt like I had a new one—every inch of it felt like it had melted. I still couldn’t quite believe that had happened. I was making the rice to go with it when I caught sight of myself.
In the reflection in the window, I was grinning, my face bright. It had been a while since I looked like that.
I grinned to myself and was humming as I finished the dinner. It was six thirty and early, but I decided we should eat. Grandpa was likely to tire easily—he already looked like he was going to doze off soon. I carried the tray out to the terrace.
“Mm!” He grinned. He looked genuinely enthusiastic as I put the plate down in front of him and I wasn’t sure whether I felt happy or guilty as he tucked in. He looked healthier already, and I wished I’d thought of this ages ago.
I took a spoonful of my own cooking, smiling at the result. It had just the right flavor—burn and sweetness perfectly balanced. I swallowed and found myself enjoying my evening. The sky had turned a soft blue and I could see stars. It has been ages since I saw them. Out here, they hung over the barren landscape like diamonds.
“It’s so lovely,” I murmured. Grandpa hadn’t heard. He was too busy eating. I was amazed by how quickly he managed to get through half the meal. Then he sat back, face a funny color.
“I feel a bit sick,” he said. I nodded.
He hasn’t eaten properly for a month. His stomach has shrunk. And besides, there’s some health problem here. I could see his face was flushed and his arm shook a little. I was looking forward to getting him to the doctors’ tomorrow. I’d made an appointment for four.
“I have to say,” Grandpa said slowly. “It’s good to have you.”
I grinned. “Grandpa, it’s good to see you.”
He smiled. I felt deeply touched as he reached across the table, taking my hand. He patted it.
“You were always a good girl, Kelly.”
I coughed, my throat tight. “Thanks, Grandpa.” I blinked rapidly, feeling emotions course through me. Tenderness and regret. How could I have neglected him so badly? I knew I wasn’t entirely to blame for what had happened here—how could I have known? But all the same, I felt bad. I finished my meal in silence.
“There’s more of that in the pot,” I told Grandpa. He was finishing his meal and it pleased me to see the color in his face become healthier. The grayish blue had receded, and he had flushed a healthy color.
“Oh.” He brightened at the suggestion, then chuckled. “I think I’ve had all I can take,” he said, leaning back contentedly. His hands rested on his lap and he looked out over the ranch. He seemed happy.
“How’s Jackie?” he asked after a bit.
Jackie was my mom. I cleared my throat, wondering what to tell him. “Oh…she’s good. I haven’t seen her in a while, actually.” The last time I’d gone home had been six months ago or so, round New Year. I spoke to her on the phone every Saturday, but it was hard to gauge how she was. “Last time we spoke she seemed okay. You know how she is…always busy.”
He grinned. “Tell me about it.”
I felt my heart ache. He clearly loved my mom. She should come and visit him. I knew she had her work—which was her life, really—and she found her dad troublesome. But it would mean the world to the old man.
“I think it’d do her good to come out and visit,” I said. I meant it. After months and months in the city, my heart was healing in this wilderness.
He snorted. Looked out over the fields. I knew what he was thinking. He was thinking that it was unlikely Mom would come all the way out here. Last time she’d taken more than a week off her work was for Christmas. She was devoted and never took off.
I sighed. “Want seconds?”
“Maybe we can have them for lunch,” he suggested. I smiled.
“We have plenty of food now, Grandpa. But if you want to?”
He nodded. “Yes. I do.”
I smiled. “I’m glad you liked it. Now,” I added, yawning. “Maybe we should go clean up, huh?”
He nodded. “I’ll make coffee.”
“Great.”
It was nice, I reflected as I tidied the kitchen, setting aside the remainder of our supper for tomorrow, to be here. I could hear Grandpa pottering about with the kettle and tin of coffee—the kitchen light needed a repair, and we worked with the glow from outside—and I felt content.
I wondered, idly, how Reese spent the evening. At the thought my body clenched tight with need. I wanted that man so badly!
I laughed.
Grandpa came over and tapped my shoulder.
“We should go out on the terrace with the coffee,” he said. “Watch the bats come out.”
I smiled. “Okay.”
As I sat watching the landscape shift from day to night in lyrical tones of blue, I felt my soul unfurl for the first time in months. I felt like all my senses were renewed—my eyesight sharpening as I wa
tched bats flit in front of a dusk sky.
I went to my room shortly afterward. It was only eight P.M. but I felt sleepy. It had been a long day. I showered again and contemplated the guest bedroom. It was marginally less awful than when I had arrived—the dust was out and the bed was made. I still wondered if I had the courage to actually sleep in it, or if I’d be better off curled up on the cover.
It was when the light shining through the window woke me that I sat wide awake and realized with complete awe that I had fallen asleep. I was wearing my nightgown and slippers and the sun was streaming in through the window. The clock said seven am. I yawned. I had been asleep for almost half a day!
I stretched and reached for my suitcase to find clothes. It was a new day. I could hear birds singing and somewhere a car, winding its slow way along road past the farmlands. The sun shone on the hills beyond my window, and I thought it was going to be an amazing day.
Brother’s Best Friend Unwrapped
Chapter One
Amelia
“Whew!”
I sighed as I collapsed through the door of my apartment in Berkeley, shivering from the cold wind. I put my shopping bags on the floor and blew self-made hot air on my fingers, trying to warm them. As I slammed the door behind me, shutting out the freezing cold wind, I said an inner prayer of thanks for the heating system and hung my coat on the peg by the door.
It doesn’t seem possible that it’s December already.
It was the twentieth already, and I had just finished my shopping. Pausing to wipe my shoes neatly on the welcome mat, I carried my stuff through to the kitchen to unpack. My neat, pristine, Account-style organized home offered me its bleak welcome on the way past.
That wind does destroy one’s good hair days, I thought ruefully, catching my own eye in the tall mirror by the kitchen. My honey-brown hair was wispy and had fluffed out around my face, flushed with cold. I blinked blue eyes, damp with the wind.
With the cold, at least my cheeks are pink.
It was the best I could think to say for myself as I hefted the shopping bags and headed to the kitchen. I knew I was self-critical; most people said I was pretty and on my good days I could see it. Right now, I was cold and stressed and all I wanted to do was check if I’d finished my last-minute gift-shopping. In the kitchen, I lifted the weight of it onto the counter and opened it carefully.
In the bag were some basic groceries and some gifts: socks and chocolates for Brett, my big brother, and some little surprises for his kids, Cayley and Josh, bought at the local sweet-shop. I was sure I would see them sometime this holiday, but I didn’t know when.
“I hope he lets me know soon.”
As I unpacked the rest of my groceries, I silently swore at my elder brother, Brett, for failing to let me know when I was expected to arrive. He was always like that—impulsive and unpredictable. From the time when he spontaneously brought the entire junior football team back to our house without warning, to the time he announced out of the blue that he was flying to LA for a job interview, my elder brother’s been surprising me. I just hoped that he might think to give me some warning about his Christmas plans.
Well, I have the gifts sorted at least.
With a smile of contentment, I gathered up the bag of gifts and headed to my sitting room. He could do his worst now, for I was all set for presents. I’d bought Brett a new leather wallet—the socks and chocolates were a filler. No matter what he sprung on me now, I was ready. As I checked my mails, I heard a message tone.
Speak of the devil. It was Brett. I read his message, grinning wryly.
I just remembered: will you come for Christmas? Reese and I are off from tomorrow. Would love to see you. Let me know today?
I rolled my eyes, my heart warming with the typical Brett-ness of the message. Spontaneous, generous and forgetful, that was my big brother all rolled into one. Four years my senior and settled down with two small kids and a wife, Reese. He was still as unpredictable as when he was a kid.
I didn’t need to think about my reply.
Great! I’ll drive through tomorrow. Should I bring something?
I was lonely here in Berkeley although my brother’s home on the outskirts of LA was not too far away. Here in Berkeley, there was just me and Jess, my friend from work. Who else would I spend Christmas with if not Brett? Not only would it be amazing to see him again, but the added draw of the kids was irresistible. Cayley was now ten and Josh almost eight years old; both of them all bright eyes and endless questions. It would be perfect to see them at Christmas.
I barely had to wait for the reply. It came back instantly.
Just yourself, Mel. We’ll have enough for the six of us for dinner.
I read that through twice before I noticed the inconsistency.
Six of us?
I could only count five. Me, Brett and Reese, and two kids. Who was the sixth person? I whizzed off a reply.
Six? Brett, have you miscounted?
It seemed he was taking longer than usual to send back a reply, so I leaned back and contemplated that, trying to guess who the sixth guest could be, if it wasn’t just Brett’s typing mistake. It wouldn’t be our mom. She was spending Christmas in Michigan with her partner, Gareth. Of Brett and Reese’s friends, there were very few of them who didn’t have partners or families; so it was unlikely to be just one person if it was one of them.
Unless…
My heart stopped. There was only one person I knew who would come alone.
It can’t be.
But it was. Just as I reached the conclusion by myself, a message came back through from Brett. Heart thumping, I read through it. It confirmed my worst expectations.
Oh! Sorry, sis. Forgot to tell you. Reese and I invited Carson Grant. That okay?
I sighed. If I gave the true answer, I would have flashed back, “absolutely not”. Or would I? I leaned back, thinking about it. Carson Grant had been my boyfriend, once upon a time. He was Brett’s friend first, though, which made things difficult. Tall, dark and brooding, Carson had captured my heart back in tenth grade when Brett had brought him home from a college football match.
I closed my eyes, trying in vain to shut down the memories that were flooding my mind. Carson and I in the movie theater together. At home in the garden, under the tree, kissing. Making love. Carson had been my first lover and, I had to admit, the best one.
He left me, I reminded myself. He ended things.
Even so, as I reached for my phone and replied to my brother’s request, I couldn’t help the fact that my heart was thudding, my spirit anticipating. Carson. I hadn’t seen him for years. Not since he left me and joined the military, in fact. What would it be like to see him again?
It wasn’t like I could refuse to. Brett would be upset and I wanted to see my brother and his family, and had no other plans for Christmas. If I demanded he leave his best friend out of it, I don’t think he’d be too happy. And besides, astonishing though it seemed to me, I wanted to. Maybe I’m just a sucker for punishment. We’re all adults, so I can handle this.
Even so, my reply was brief but affirmative.
Okay. See you tomorrow ‘round lunch. That okay?
The reply came back at once again.
Awesome! The kids are so excited! See you, sis! Hugs.
I couldn’t help a smile at that. I leaned back on the couch and closed my eyes, shopping forgotten. What would it be like, to see Carson again? I tried to imagine what he might look like now. Probably bald, I told myself harshly, with hard eyes and no sense of humor.
The latter was not overly-hard to imagine: Carson had always been serious. It was one of the things that drew me to him from the beginning; that dark, brooding quality that had set him apart from the rowdy crowd that usually surrounded Brett. I had liked him from the moment I saw him, mostly for that quiet, serious side. I wondered how his years in the army had changed him.
Is he still tall, dark and quiet?
Handsome went without mentioning; h
e had always been that. The same way a skyscraper is always so high up it hurts to look up from ground level. My memories of him when he was twenty, and I sixteen, I used and built a picture of him in my mind. He was tall, with black hair and deep brown eyes, a firm jaw and the straightest, most handsome nose I ever saw. Combined with high cheekbones and a full, mobile mouth, Carson could have walked out of a Disney movie as the handsome prince. Except that Disney never invented handsome princes with the quiet, distant character of someone from the “Twilight” saga.
Carson, I thought, sighing. I always did love you.
That was why it had hurt so much when, somewhat abruptly, he had decided to end things. He had called to say he had finally decided to join the military. His dad was in the army, so it seemed the natural course for him after finishing his time at college, and then we split just like that.
I never really understood why, and he had never really explained. Too arrogant, probably, to think his actions needed explanation. He had always come across as thinking of himself as better than others; probably simply because he kept himself to himself a lot and people assumed he was stuck-up. I knew better; or at least I thought I did. After his sudden betrayal, I didn’t know.
He might have said something.
