by Karin Baine
‘What? You don’t think I can scrub up well too?’
‘You look great.’ She appreciated the effort he’d gone to for her and that appreciation had reached deep inside and touched somewhere that definitely went beyond the friendship realm.
‘So do you.’ He leaned in to give her a welcome peck on the cheek, his skin smooth against hers and smelling of aftershave and soap.
She closed her eyes and breathed him in, the combination of familiar citrus tones and spicy musk seeming to complement his personality perfectly. Like him, his cologne was comforting with a dangerous hint of the exotic. Not to mention so very moreish. But standing on the doorstep, sniffing him, wasn’t supposed to be the highlight of her evening.
‘I’m intrigued to find out what you have planned for dinner.’ She didn’t have much of an appetite, at least not for food, but she was curious about how he’d sourced it, or if he’d cooked it himself.
‘Come in and be prepared to be blown away. I can guarantee you the best meal you’ve had on the island, all cooked by my own fair hand.’ He ushered her inside with the urgency of a man keen to show off said cooking skills.
‘Bold claims. You’re going to have to go a long way to top Sou’s spread last night. I hope you’ve had some training.’ She was still battling her fear of new foods, especially when not all of them here were to her taste. Except the coconut spinach thing.
Please, let it be the coconut spinach thing.
‘I’ll have you know I’ve cooked this very same meal while trekking through the Amazon rainforest. I’m a very capable chef who has whipped up a veritable feast even in the most trying circumstances.’
‘In that case, I’m most honoured to be your guest.’ And impressed with the casual mention of what must have been the most epic of adventures. Time spent in the jungle put her island escape well and truly in the shade. Conditions here were probably luxurious compared to what he’d endured and she was panicking about what was on the menu. She should think herself lucky people were happy to keep feeding her. If left to her own devices she’d probably starve once her biscuit stash ran out.
‘Take a seat and make yourself comfortable. You can set your things over there in the corner.’
She thought it was his idea of a joke when her bones were still protesting against this tradition of sitting on hard wood floors until she saw what he’d done with the place. The room was lit with the lanterns she’d seen in all the other houses, which somehow here they took on that air of intimacy a candlelit dinner for two demanded. He’d pushed all the medical equipment to the side and pulled the table, now covered with one of the painted masa mats, into the middle of the room. There were even two crude wooden chairs, one either side of the makeshift dining table. Bliss!
‘I thought we were doing paperwork.’ She clutched her armful of stationery closer. It was her security blanket, supposed to keep her grounded and stop her from getting carried away with the idea of romance.
‘We are but we’ll think better on a full stomach.’ He eased the supplies from her grasp and set them on top of the medicine cabinet.
‘It might be an idea to make a food pyramid to explain the basic principles of healthy living at a glance. You know, one of those colour-coded posters that starts with a small amounts of fatty foods bad for the body and ends with encouraging more fruit and veg in the diet.’
‘Sure. I’m no artist but I’m sure we can manage a simple pictograph between us. Now, if you’ll excuse me I must go and check on dinner cooking on my camping stove out the back.’ It was only when he padded away from her that Emily noticed he was barefoot. He had his very own brand of sophistication that, while traditionally handsome, still paid homage to his bohemian nature. The best of both worlds from a spectator’s point of view.
He gave a half-bow before ducking back outside. Emily took the seat facing the door in order to see this spectacle as it unfolded. He’d certainly gone to a lot of trouble but nothing so far indicated what she should expect on her plate. Her suspense was prolonged even further when dinner did arrive as he kept it covered, using an upturned wooden bowl as an improvised cloche.
‘Ta-da!’ He lifted the cover with a flourish.
Emily released the breath she’d been holding in a splutter of disbelief. ‘Beans on toast? Where on earth did you get that?’
The welcome sight of an old British favourite, baked beans in tomato sauce, was a little piece of home that immediately brought her comfort. He’d even taken the care to toast the rustic bread to keep it authentic.
‘We explorers always carry a few emergency supplies.’ He produced an empty tin, which he’d obviously brought with him from England.
‘This beats a fancy restaurant any day of the week.’
‘Wait. You haven’t seen anything yet.’ He disappeared again, returning with two tin cups full of what looked suspiciously like English tea.
She took a sip of sweet heaven. ‘But how...?’
Joe sat down too. ‘I told you, I have a few essentials and I called in a few favours for the rest.’
She wanted to tell him he shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble for her but she was too grateful to him for sacrificing his supplies for her. And her mouth was watering to taste something familiar.
‘I’ve never eaten beans and toast with my fingers.’
‘You don’t have to. Unless you want to.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of small stainless-steel cutlery. The kind no good Boy Scout would ever leave home without. It also proved his commitment to being part of the community here when he’d chosen to forgo using them until now.
Emily reached out and snatched a knife and fork from him. ‘It’s the little things that mean the most.’
That first bite of hearty nostalgia seemed to go in slow motion as she savoured the taste of home, enjoying the textures and flavours she knew so well. After that, she practically devoured her plate in hunger. When she was done she wiped her chin to make sure she hadn’t embarrassed herself by dripping tomato sauce down herself.
‘I aim to please.’ He set down his cutlery on his clean plate with every reason to look smug after pulling out all the stops tonight. She wouldn’t have been more pleased if he’d wined and dined her at The Ritz.
‘I can’t believe you did this. More to the point, I can’t believe you wore white, knowing this was what we were eating. That’s a laundry nightmare waiting to happen.’
He leaned forward, his intense gaze holding her captive in her seat, that desire they’d been trying to swerve all day flaring back into life. ‘What can I say? I live right on the edge of danger.’
They both did if the sparks between them were anything to go by.
‘Maybe we should get started on our craft project?’ Before they cleared the table and lunged at each other in a fit of passion.
‘There’s no rush. Now, I hope you have room for dessert?’
‘Always.’ It was usually her favourite part of a meal but there wasn’t much that could possibly top that main course.
Except the two chocolate bars he was waving in her face. All her Christmases had come at once.
‘I was saving them for a special occasion.’
‘Well, now’s not the time to be selfish,’ she said, holding out a hand for her share, secretly pleased he deemed an evening in her company ‘special’ when she was thinking exactly the same thing about him.
He was good-looking, generous, thoughtful and funny. Everything a woman could want in a man.
Joe Braden spelled trouble with a capital ‘T’.
* * *
‘Hmm, I don’t think I’ll ever make it as an artist.’ Emily chewed the end of her pen and squinted at her depiction of Fijian desserts in the ‘Eat Less’ section at the top of the food pyramid. The only reason she didn’t feel a hypocrite after scoffing down that
chocolate was because it was the only indulgence she’d had in three days.
After their feast on comfort foods they’d got their heads together to create a diet plan for Sou and had now taken up residence on the floor to work on their healthy eating poster. The idea that there’d be more room to spread out had actually led to the two of them sitting almost on top of each other as they drew on the same piece of paper.
Joe glanced up from his scribbling to see her efforts for himself. ‘Don’t put yourself down. That’s an excellent cheese wedge.’
‘It’s supposed to be coconut cake.’
‘Maybe we should label everything.’
She gave him a dig with her elbow, making him give his perfectly drawn apple an extra-long stalk on the ‘Eat More’ shelf as he laughed at his own joke.
‘I think they’ll get the gist of the message and we’ll explain it as part of the general physical exam anyway.’
‘I’m only messing with you. I reckon we’ve done a great job. This artwork will still be hanging here displaying the info long after we’ve gone, essentially doing our job in our absence.’ Joe hammered his fist on the sheet of A4 paper in passionate defence of their initiative.
‘That’s a scary thought,’ she said with a giggle. He did make her laugh. And swoon.
‘Which bit? The quality of our legacy or the idea of us leaving this place?’
Just like that the jovial mood gave way to something more serious, something more intense. Leaving Yasi meant leaving Joe behind too and she wasn’t ready for that. He held her gaze and right there and then she knew she didn’t want this to be over. She wanted this to be the beginning.
‘Both.’
It was impossible to tell who’d made the first move when they’d both leaned in for the kiss.
Joe fastened his lips to hers with such stunning conviction she knew he’d been waiting for this too. She was starting to forget why she shouldn’t let this happen when he knew her secret already and embraced it with more passion than she’d ever expected. He hadn’t looked at her with any kind of pity today, only desire. Unless he was a very good actor or did charity work as a self-esteem booster for unfortunates, he didn’t seem bothered by her au naturel appearance.
She scooted closer to deepen their connection and sample the best course of the evening in her opinion. Kissing him was even better than chocolate but every bit as delicious. Every romantic bone in her body melted as he pulled her close and reached out to cup her face in his hands, possessing her completely. It could’ve been a scene taken directly from one of those over-sentimental chick flicks she’d overindulged in recently. It was perfect.
Too perfect, that small voice of doom piped up.
It wasn’t real; they weren’t going to run off into the sunset together at the end of this.
Shut up, Miss Stick-in-the-Mud, and let me enjoy my wild side for once.
While the inner debate went on in her head, her body was making the next move for her. With her arms snaked around his neck and the rest of her draped over him like a silk scarf she was getting the full Joe Braden experience. He was all hard lines and smooth planes, the ideal structure to support her melty bones. They fitted together so well, felt so natural together, she didn’t know why she’d worried so much. This dance around each other since her arrival had only been delaying the inevitable and they didn’t have much time left together to waste. From now on she was going to take his advice and go with the flow, whatever direction it carried her.
Emily’s knees were sliding from under her as he lowered her back onto the floor; their project quickly becoming a victim of their desire beneath their entangled limbs. Joe’s body was heavy against hers but she’d never felt more secure, either with herself or another. Despite all her earlier anxieties, anticipating this moment, there was nowhere she’d rather be than here lying with him.
That didn’t mean she wasn’t a little skittish. She gasped at that first intimate touch as Joe slid his hand under her top to caress her breast, the skin-on-skin contact a shock to her system after all this time.
‘You okay?’ He immediately withdrew, leaving her feeling cold without the warmth of his touch.
‘Mmm-hmm.’ She nodded, keen to reconnect before she lost her bottle. It was better if she didn’t have time to overthink and when his hands were on her she couldn’t think about anything other than how good he made her feel.
‘Tell me if this is going too fast,’ he whispered against her neck, nuzzling that sensitive skin and stealing any potential argument from her.
‘No.’ Her breathy impatience saw him seek her out once more, kneading that soft mound into a hardened peak. Far from her usual cautious nature, she wanted to throw herself completely into the moment. She was too busy feeling to think or worry and it made her positively wanton, grinding her body against Joe’s, aching for more.
His shirt came away easily beneath her busy fingers to reveal the well-defined torso she’d only ogled from afar until now. Up close it was even more impressive as she slid her hands over the bumps and contours of his body. It was amazing that one man was in possession of so much inner and outer beauty and she counted herself lucky she got to experience all of it.
The cool air puckered her nipple ever harder as Joe exposed her fully to his gaze. And his tongue. She moaned and arched up off the floor as he drove her to the brink of insanity with every flick. That little bud seemed to contain every nerve ending in her body, tightened with complete arousal and straining for his touch.
Eyes closed as she surrendered to her needs, she let her hands survey the rest of Joe’s body. They slipped easily along his smooth skin until they met that trail of hair leading into the waistband of his trousers. Suddenly her nakedness didn’t matter as much as his. She wanted to see all of him, feel all of him pressed against her. Into her.
He sucked in a breath as she unfastened the button and dared to go ever lower to trace the hard ridge of his erection. It was her turn to gasp. There was no denying the strength of his desire for her when the steely evidence was right there beneath her fingertips. The knowledge that the flawed Emily still had the ability to turn him on to this extent was a powerful motivator.
She explored his length and self-control through the fabric of his briefs, enjoying the groans of pleasure and frustration she drew from him with every feathery stroke along his shaft. However, teasing him also meant she was testing the limits of her own restraint and she was never one to inflict unnecessary pain on herself.
She squeezed his taut backside and Joe closed his eyes and tilted his head back in ecstasy. This shameless need to follow her desire and to hell with the consequences was new, exciting, and though she wanted to reach that final peak she didn’t want this feeling to end. Although she might spontaneously combust if they didn’t bring this to its natural conclusion soon.
She was scrabbling to undo the zip on her own trousers when the door burst open.
‘We need your help!’
Emily screamed.
Joe swore.
‘Get out!’ he shouted, throwing himself on top of her to save what was left of her modesty.
‘I’m sorry. Holy—’
She didn’t hear the rest as the door closed again but she imagined there was probably an expletive missing at the end of the sentence.
‘Was that—?’
‘Yeah,’ Joe confirmed her worst fears as he leaned his forehead on her chest and swore again.
The best moment of her life had transformed into one of the worst. Her own stepbrother had just walked in on her about to have sex with his best friend.
Lying here half-undressed with an almost naked Joe spread-eagled across the top of her suddenly became tawdry when she viewed it from Peter’s perspective. The cold dose of reality brought back all the reasons this should have remained nothing more than a bad idea.
‘I need to get up.’ She pushed Joe off and covered herself up again, the thrill of the evening well and truly having worn off. It was unfortunate that after everything she’d gone through to reach this point she was back to being a disappointment.
Emily was hunched over, hugging her knees and almost rocking with the trauma of having Peter catch them at it on the floor. Joe knew he was going to have to man up and face the consequences with her stepbrother. The thought of that had killed his arousal stone-dead.
Once he’d relocated his shirt and pulled his trousers back up, he crouched down beside her.
‘We didn’t do anything wrong,’ he whispered, desperate for her to come back to him. They’d acted on their mutual attraction, not committed a crime.
‘I know.’ She said it so softly and with so little conviction he’d had to read her lips. He could see the shame clouding her face and curling her body into a ball.
If it had been anybody else who’d burst in uninvited he would’ve read them the Riot Act, but on this occasion Peter had claim on the victim role. He needed to go and do some damage control but he was reluctant to leave Emily there, reflecting on the embarrassment she’d been subjected to because of him. He should’ve taken better care of her.
He dipped his head to drop a kiss on her lips, hoping to keep that connection alive. They’d come this far and risked so much to get to this point that it would be a shame to take two steps back now, but she remained motionless, unresponsive to the gesture. This sudden impassiveness wasn’t something he was simply going to accept after the fire he’d just witnessed from her. He wanted her to stay with him and not give in to unnecessary guilt. She’d had enough of that recently.
With her face cradled in his hands, he teased her lips apart with the tip of his tongue, searching for that woman who’d had her hands down his pants not five minutes ago. Slowly but surely she began to respond, tentatively meeting his tongue with hers and opening her mouth to invite him further. He wanted to scoop her up and carry her off somewhere peaceful and private, preferably with carpet on the floor and a king-size bed. They needed somewhere with no distractions, no outside influences interfering in how they expressed their feelings for one another. Emotionally they mightn’t have it all figured out, but until Peter had arrived they’d been happy for their bodies to make their decisions for them.
