The Wells Brothers: Aaron

by Angela Verdenius

  Sliding her hands up his back to wind one arm around his neck, she held him close while sifting the fingers of her other hand through his hair, fisting it lightly as she moved against him.

  “Been wanting to kiss you all afternoon,” she breathed hotly before kissing him again.

  She was so free with her affection, so honest. He loved it, loved that she melted against him, let him in to taste the honeyed depths of her mouth, that she gave him back kiss for kiss.

  No simpering violet, his Shea. She was a hot red rose that he both wanted to cherish and crush, to release her scent around him, to lose himself in her softness, feel the velvety petals of her womanhood close around him, the slickness welcoming him inside.

  The only thing that kept him from dragging her into the car and taking her home was the fact that Cole was inside the house. There was no way he was going to be able to release his sexual heat with Shea tonight.

  Regretfully, he lifted his head. Call him mean, but he was gratified to see the regret in her eyes as well. “Misery loves company.”

  Ruefully, she laughed. “Maybe we shouldn’t have started what we couldn’t finish.”

  “Honey, this fire inside me is just going to keep simmering until you put it out.”

  “Ain’t going to happen tonight, honey.”

  “Such is the reality of having a teenager around.”

  That comment had her sobering.

  Aaron arched an eyebrow inquiringly.

  As usual, Shea got right to the point. “You do know that Cole is always going to be around, right? At least until he’s old enough to get a job and start his own life?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s not always convenient having a teenager around. You know, times like this.”

  “He knows we’re out here necking.”

  A sparkle of humour appeared in those incredible whiskey eyes that were still dark with desire. “Necking is as far as it goes when he’s around. And,” she poked his chest, “I draw a line, too.”

  “Do tell.”

  “Necking when he’s out of sight is fine. But I’m not about to roll around with you playing tonsil hockey right in front of him. I have to set standards.”

  Aaron’s eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement. “I’m not really into voyeurism so I can agree to that. How about a peck on the cheek?”

  “Allowable.”

  “On the lips?”

  She thought for a second. “A quick one?”

  “Sure.”

  “Allowable.”

  “But when we’re alone…”

  “Tonsil hockey is perfectly allowable then.”

  “I’m in complete agreement.” He laughed quietly. “You forget I’ve had teenage brothers. I know how to act around them.”

  She smiled up at him. “I gathered that from the conversations going around the table this arvo.”

  “There’s something else I know how to do.”

  It was her turn to raise an inquiring eyebrow.

  “How to behave when they’re not around.” Desire, briefly pushed down by their serious yet humorous discussion, flooded his loins hotly. Pulling her up against him, he feathered his lips across hers while holding her eyes captive with his. “Then I can be bad. Very bad.”

  Oh yeah, she liked that thought. Her nipples budded against his chest, one sweetly soft thigh rubbed against his and her breath fastened. Those whiskey eyes practically smouldered.

  “Mr Wells, you’re not just bad. You’re wicked.”

  His smile was slow and sinful. “Miss Winters, you have no idea.”

  “Oh, I think I do. I’ve already had one taste of your sexual prowess.”

  “Like I said, you have no idea.”

  “Are you telling me you can top my current experiences with you?”

  “Tomorrow’s your day off work. Come to my house in the morning and I’ll show you.”

  “Don’t you have to go to work?” she asked with impious innocence.

  “I’m the boss. I can come in late once a week.”

  “Oh dear.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “Once a week. Are we on restrictions, Mr Wells?”

  “Trust me, Miss Winters, I can give you enough lovin’ to last an entire week.”

  “Mr Wells, I’m going to keep you to your promise.”

  “Miss Winters, you won’t be disappointed. I can guarantee it.”

  “Mmm.” Going up on tiptoe, she kissed him slow, teased his lips with the tip of her tongue, her eyes almost sinfully gold in the glow of the security light. “Until tomorrow then, my wicked prince.”

  It took everything he had to kiss her with some restraint, so very well aware that if he didn’t keep himself leashed he was in danger of doing more than just kiss her. If she found out his people could see them kissing, she wouldn’t get too mad, but if it went further…

  Not that it would, he respected her too much for that. His upbringing and personal values would never allow it. When he made love to her it was private, their own time together - private, hot, between them alone.

  He insisted she was in the house with the security screen locked before he left. He carried away with him the image of her leaning against the doorframe with a dreamy smile on her face and three ginger cats around her legs.

  Pretty as a picture.

  A picture that stayed with him as he drifted off to sleep alone in his bed.

  A picture, he acknowledged in a half awake, half asleep state, that he wanted framed in his own doorway.

  ~*~

  “You’re still there.”

  “I am. Can I help you?”

  “I’m coming to see you.”

  “You keep saying that, Mr…?”

  The laughed that came down the line wasn’t comforting. “You really don’t know, do you?”

  Not a freakin’ clue. “I’m afraid not. If you could give me just your first name?”

  “I think we’ll see if you know me when you see me.”

  This was just getting plain creepy.

  Shea pulled the appointment book towards her, brushing Ginger’s idly flicking tail off the page. His ears twitched but he didn’t deign to even look back over his shoulder at her.

  “What day and time would you like?”

  “How about I see you when I see you?”

  “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that. I have other clients.”

  “Do you?” The man tut-tutted. “Busy, are you?”

  “Extremely.”

  “Well, aren’t you lucky.” There was a very definite sneer in the tone.

  Feeling really unnerved now, Shea made a decision. “I don’t think I can help you, Sir. Please don’t ring back.” Placing the receiver back on the wall, she gave Ginger a pat. “Done and dusted.”

  The phone rang again.

  “The Mystic Shop, Stella speaking. How can I help you?”

  “Don’t you hang up on me.” The voice this time was harsh. “Don’t you ever hang up on me, you bitch!”

  Shocked, Shea could only gape.

  “Is this how you run your business?” The man continued viciously. “Is this any way to run a business? You tell me that!”

  “Listen.” She regained her senses. “Don’t come near me or my shop, do not phone me again or I will get the police onto you.”

  The phone crashed down in her ear.

  Shaken, heart beating fast, Shea hung up. Her hands trembled as she shut the book. What had that been all about? Some weirdo no doubt getting his jollies from trying to scare her.

  Yeah, just trying to scare her.

  Well, she’d obviously scared him in turn, the silly bugger couldn’t even answer her, just hang up.

  “Creep,” she muttered.

  “Here’s your water.” Cole appeared in the doorway with an icy glass. “Who’s a creep?”

  “Some idiot ringing, trying to unnerve me.”

  “We’re still getting those phone calls? I thought they’d stopped?”

  Taking the glass from him,
Shea took a fortifying mouthful. “They had for awhile but obviously the creep has decided he’s bored and decided to stir the pot again.”

  “You’re a little pale. You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She gestured with the glass. “Have you packed everything you need for the weekend?”

  “All done. Does Aaron know about the phone calls?”

  “Why would I tell him?”

  “Ah, let’s see - because he’s security?”

  “I’m not hiring security, Cole.”

  “Don’t need to. Just let him know.”

  “No need. I mentioned the police to the creep and he hung up. I think I put the wind up him.” At her brother’s dubious expression, she patted his cheek. “If we freaked every time a weirdo called we’d have a permanent security guard parked outside.”

  “We kind of do. Right next door.”

  “They work for clients. We’re not their clients.”

  Cole gave her an odd look.

  “And we’re not hiring them.”

  A faint grin appeared on his face.

  “Why are you smirking?”

  “You don’t know?”

  “Know what?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Nothing.” Waving it away, he started back to the closed hallway door.

  “Cole!”

  “Yeah?”

  “You haven’t told Aaron about the phone calls, have you?”

  “Nah.” He shook his head, but his expression was disapproving. “Though you should.”

  “Good. I’d look a right drongo jumping at crank calls.” Relieved, Shea drained the glass. Catching sight of a double cabin ute with ‘Wells Handyman and Building Services’ printed on the sides pass the front and turn into their driveway, she placed the glass on the counter. “Mr Wells is here.”

  Face lighting up, Cole shot back through the hall door. “I’ll get my gear!”

  Carrot ran into the shop through the door Cole had left open, jumping up onto the counter to head-butt Shea’s arm before staring in fascination at Ginger’s twitching tail as his brother lay across the counter top peacefully dozing.

  She flicked the lock on the shop door before going through into the house to greet Mr Wells as he entered the kitchen. “Thanks for taking Cole with you.”

  “No worries.” He smiled at her. “We’ll take care of him.”

  She pushed down the sudden self-consciousness at her heavy make-up and clothes. “He’s been looking forward to this weekend ever since you asked me if he could come with you to Willock Mansion Hotel.”

  “When Elspeth said she wanted us to build a secret grotto and Luke to plan an appropriate hidden Victorian garden, we thought Cole might like coming away with us for a man’s weekend.” Mr Wells’s eyes twinkled. “We’ll really be roughing it.”

  Knowing full well that they’d be sleeping in the finest rooms at the hotel at Elspeth’s insistence, Shea laughed. “Poor boys.”

  “Hi, Mr Wells.” Cole appeared with his backpack slung across one shoulder. “Bye, sis.”

  She looked askance at the backpack. “That’s all you’re taking? For tonight, tomorrow and Sunday?”

  “Only need one pair of undies. Wear today, turn them inside out tomorrow, back to front Sunday and then they’re ready for the wash Monday.”

  “You better have packed more than one pair, boyo.”

  Cole grinned.

  Mr Wells clapped his hand on Cole’s shoulder, unintentionally nearly sending him to his knees under his strong grip. “Boy’ll be fine. Nothing like a man’s weekend to clear the cobwebs.” At Cole’s widening grin, he added, “And nothing like hard work to build a man’s morals.”

  “Yep,” Cole agreed. “I’m ready to clear and build.”

  “Then let’s get going. Jason and Luke are meeting us at Jason’s place.”

  “Have fun.” Shea kissed Cole’s cheek, then, on impulse, stood on tiptoe to brush a kiss on Mr Wells’s cheek. “Thank you so much once again.”

  He smiled, ruffled her hair as though she was as young as her brother and left with Cole on his heels.

  Returning to the front, she waved them off as they backed out of the driveway. Cole waved cheerfully while talking animatedly to Mr Wells. She waited until they were out of sight before going back inside to the bathroom while all was quiet. Washing her hands, she studied her reflection in the mirror.

  Unbidden, Mr Wells’s words floated through her mind. And nothing like hard work to build a man’s morals. Soberly, she turned the tap off. Honest work built a man’s moral fibre. Dishonest work? Not so much.

  Suddenly tired, she braced her hands on the basin, pushing back on her arms in a slow stretch. Tired of the whole thing - donning a persona every day, pretending to do readings. It wasn’t that she didn’t like making people smile and feel good about themselves, that was always fun, but when they asked her questions that were more serious it brought home hard how much she could affect people’s lives if she wasn’t careful. Fielding some questions was almost terrifying.

  This last week had brought to her door some truly disturbing questions. A childless woman asked her if she’d ever have a desperately wanted baby. Another day a woman said her husband was having an affair but she loved him so much she couldn’t bear to leave him - was she doing the right thing? Then there was the man who’d come in and started sobbing, telling Shea his sister was dying and he wanted to make sure she’d get to Heaven.

  To top it off, a teenager came in, stated she was planning on running away with her boyfriend, and wanted to know what Shea could see in their future. That had almost sent Shea into a spin. How could she possibly answer that? She had no idea what the girl’s home life was like, her parents, her background, whether she was abused or not, whether she had just gotten into the wrong company. All Shea could do was advise her to go to a counsellor, giving her the address to a Salvation Army youth drop-in centre that she’d noticed a few days before when driving past it.

  Times like this Shea knew she wasn’t cut out for this job. It had consequences that could be devastating. While Clare would have simply shrugged and kept going, these episodes were starting to haunt Shea.

  The whole clairvoyant business was great for someone with a real gift, but for someone with no gift to speak of and a conscience that was starting to needle her mercilessly, it was becoming a nightmare.

  Being around a family who lived simple, honest lives - what she deemed ‘good people’ - was reminding her of her own upbringing, just as simple and honest. If her parents could see her now, if they knew their daughter ran a scam and their son scanned social media for information to feed to her, they’d have been horrified.

  She hadn’t thought about them in awhile. It made her squirm. Maybe they could see her, maybe they knew what she was doing, what Cole was doing.

  Unsettled, she quickly set out food for the cats, making sure all three were settled and eating before closing the hallway door, unlocking the front door again for business, and going behind the counter to rest her forearms on the counter top to stare unseeingly into space.

  What could she do about it, though? She’d set the shop up for readings, she was her own boss, set her own hours, making good money.

  Good money conning people.

  Definitely not building her own moral fibre.

  But she had Cole to think of, the cats, their home. She had to provide for them all.

  To be truthful, she didn’t enjoy this as much as she used to. Becoming friends with people with high morals, honest personalities, and non-judgemental attitudes was really starting to weigh on her decisions. The choice to con people had been a bitter, gut-kick reaction to those who had betrayed her trust. Now, with time and the Wells family influence, she was starting to see things clearly again.

  “Cripes, life was so much easier before we settled.” She sucked in her bottom lip.

  It had been a hell of a lot easier. Travelling from place to place, doing readings and leaving, there had been no time to form frie
ndships. If she did a lousy reading it didn’t matter because they were leaving the next day or the following week, there was no real come-back.

  Now, though…

  Looking around the shop, she suddenly wondered just what kind of other small business she could start. Did she want to start again? It was a scary thought. So far she was making a decent living, to start again in something totally different was daunting.

  Straightening, she came out from behind the counter and walked into the middle of the room, stopping to turn around slowly.

  The place used to be a deli, selling pies, chips, snack foods, some small groceries such as bread and some tinned food. It was in the middle of a business district, albeit a backstreet one, but still… Could she do it?

  Didn’t necessarily have to be a deli, she could sell something else.

  Excitement tempered with doubt tingled through her. Maybe. Maybe not. But it would be an honest job, an honest business where she could look an honest person in the eyes with pride.

  Not like now where she hid behind a persona.

  “Hide?” She looked at Ginger. “That’s a joke. The more we settle, the more we make friends, the more my persona is no longer a secret. Geez, how long before word gets around and everyone knows me as Shea? Didn’t count on that, either.” Hands on her hips, she tipped her head back to study the ceiling. “Oh boy. This could all just come tumbling down any minute, couldn’t it? And I don’t mean the roof.”

  The enormity of it was almost overwhelming.

  But the idea of changing, doing something different, was tantalising. She had to talk to Cole when he came back, see what he thought, they’d been in this together since her world had come crashing down after the whole whistle blowing affair had destroyed her career.

  The bell over the door tingling to announce a customer brought her attention back to the job at hand. Pushing the myriad of thoughts to the back of her mind to mull over later, she turned to face the newcomer and froze.

  Crap on a stick. Sally. Donna’s mother. And she did not look happy.

  Sally glared at her. “You spoke to my daughter.”

  Oh boy. Maintaining the calm smile, Shea hid her jangling nerves by walking across the room to lock the door. Only when it clicked did she realise that maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea. But neither was someone walking in on an argument. That would totally suck lemons.