by Kris Pearson
Anna pressed her lips together and sagged against the window frame. Why couldn’t she let go of her up-tightness and relax a little? She knew what people thought of her. Even the builder had made it obvious with his taunts of ‘Frosty’.
It was so hard to drop her guard and dial back her standards after what she’d allowed to happen. It stayed endlessly on her conscience - even though she’d been only fifteen and her controlling mother and aunt had absolutely called the shots.
Since then, in a long drawn out act of contrition, Anna had run like a frantic mouse on an exercise wheel to achieve perfection; to constantly raise her standards beyond their already stellar levels.
She was always attempting to atone, even though the adoption was many years in the past now. Their parents seemed to think no less of their younger daughters because they’d not exactly set the world on fire, but firstborn Annaliese was ever conscious of the need to strive and excel.
She’d attended university, burying her head in her books until she’d achieved first her Batchelor of Design degree, and then her Masters. Years of work and study, and she truly loved her job, but where was the freedom and sense of peace she’d hoped all the effort would bring? Where was the self-forgiveness she was surely entitled to after all her efforts?
Even now, she’d given up a week of her annual leave to sort out the holiday cottage.
Endless effort had shaped her into a person she didn’t much like, and watching the builder as he flew across the sparkling water caused a shaft of jealousy to darken her spirits. Why couldn’t she just let go of it and throw herself into life the way he’d thrown himself into the ocean?
Noises behind the house shook her out of her mood. It wasn’t him, so who…?
She hurried up the long hallway and peered through the kitchen window. The fourth man had stopped his work on the new deck to fire up the barbecue again.
She slunk back to her spy base by the lace curtains. As though lured by the aroma of singeing flesh, the men left the water. First, Hoolie and Eric, prancing like ponies as they hot-footed it across the asphalt surface of the road.
Anna shrank away and glued one eye to the narrow gap, waiting for Jason to appear. Wanting another look at his OMG body and that sexy snake. And there he was, closer, closer, glistening with sea water as he strode across the road, but no snake on show because he carried the surfboard under his arm, and it hid the part of him she was most interested in.
She found it perfectly easy to imagine he was naked behind it.
And he was… mouth-watering.
She couldn’t help reflecting that Tim Hathaway had never made her press her thighs together because she was tingling and twitching between them. Never made her want to lick salt water off his chest, or spy on him. Never made her sigh when he disappeared from view. But this unexpected man did all that and more. Could he be the one to help her relax her fierce standards for a few days? Would she even dare to consider it?
She drew a deep breath of resolve and went to the kitchen to make a tomato and lettuce sandwich. And pretended it would taste as good as the barbecued food outside.
The men lounged in the sun, still wearing their swim gear, letting it dry on their bodies before pulling their work shorts back on. Anna teetered on tiptoe, trying to see more. Of Jason in particular. At that moment he stood and approached the barbecue again, and then made her jump by appearing at the open doorway - a huge silhouette against the bright light. He filled the frame with his height and breadth, stealing the air from her lungs.
“Peace offering. Thought you might like another one, Frosty?” He held out the familiar battered fork with a shiny brown sausage impaled on its bent tines.
Anna opened her mouth but no words emerged. This close, and so unclad, he overwhelmed all her senses. He lifted his hand as though to feed her, and she dropped her gaze from his, finding instead the evil eye and flickering tongue of the snake on the lower reaches of his golden belly.
“Did that tattoo hurt?” she blurted, her usual composure shot to pieces.
“Not as much as the sawblade,” he said, a slow burn of a smile appearing in her peripheral vision as she stood there deliberately not making eye contact. But making eye contact with lots of other things, like the line of dark hair running up beside the snake’s head, and the defined abs above that, not to mention the defined equipment barely covered by the thin, wet, green fabric below.
“Jeez, don’t look at me like that,” he groaned, catching her hand in his and pressing the fork into it. As soon as she was safely holding it he turned and headed for the bathroom. “You’re playing merry hell with my blood pressure,” he added over his shoulder, still grinning, but making sure she couldn’t see the effect she’d had on him.
Anna set the fork down on the old stainless steel counter top and leaned her elbows either side of it. Cradled her hot face in her hands. And stared into space.
He was playing hell with her blood pressure, too. Her heart pounded - thumping along so strongly she almost heard it. Her pulse thudded under her thumbs where they supported her jaw. But wasn’t it nice to have this confirmation the attraction was mutual? And wasn’t it also nice that no-one in her family was here to get in the way if she decided she deserved him and dared to do anything about it?
Dreamily she picked up the sausage and took a bite. So much better than her tomato and lettuce sandwich.
*
As soon as they’d eaten, Jason undertook the porch wall demolition and shored it up with four-by-twos and plywood. Soon the old toilet sat regally in place of the smashed one, and a makeshift shower rail supported the streaky plastic curtain with its pink palm trees.
“Frosty!” he yelled through the open back door. “I’m done. We’ll leave you in peace.”
To his pleasure Anna appeared at the end of the hallway and came to stand beside him. Her strawberry toenails glittered like jewels, and she’d pulled her hair up into a feathery topknot. “Still sorting?” he asked, noticing the carpet imprint on her knees.
She tipped her head on one side and looked at him for a moment. “That and Googling things. Trying to find out where some of Grandpa’s war photos were taken. Have you got a big garbage skip anywhere? With some room left in it?” She captured her bottom lip and then released it, adding “There’s a lot of totally worthless crud here too. Someone has to get rid of it all and I’ve decided I’m that person. I’m not talking big furniture yet.”
He leaned against the doorframe, enjoying her defiant expression. Hell - enjoying everything about her now she wasn’t chewing him out in front of his men. “Rather you than me. Throw it out the door and I’ll bring the concrete barrow down once we’ve finished at the house. I’ll take it up the hill for you.”
“I could open a bottle of wine afterwards as a thank you.” It was said softly, and she moved from one foot to the other, looking… nervous.
A sudden burst of feedback split the quiet atmosphere, followed by “testing, testing,” from one of the surf carnival marquees. Then some heavy breathing.
“Dammit - why do people always think they have to blow into microphones?” Jason asked, thrown for six, and far from certain where he stood with her. “Better idea; let’s take the wine to my place so I can have a civilised shower and you can get some peace and quiet.”
He watched as she swallowed, the movement more visible in her smooth throat now her hair was up out of the way. What he wouldn’t do to kiss her right there…
“Testing, testing,” roared out again, followed by a burst of brassy music. The Rocky theme, if he wasn’t mistaken. God!
She flinched. “Yes please. Where do you live? With your dad?”
Surely that wasn’t what she thought of him? An overgrown boy who’d never left home? Even after telling her he’d established his own company? How much could he give away without discrediting Trev Jones, on whom the Wynns were depending?
He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “No, I have my own place further down the bay. N
ot quite a beach house, but away from this damn noise.”
Her lips parted as though she was considering his offer. “That would be nice,” she finally said, looking away from him and then back up again, blue eyes huge in her delicate face. She drew a visible breath. “I need to apologise for being so rude this morning. About the bed. And the barbecue, and using the bathroom.”
He relaxed a little, surprised and pleased. “Forgiven. You patched up my hand, and I won ten bucks off Eric when you didn’t scream at the rat.”
“Hmff,” she said, and then elbowed him in the ribs.
Jason groaned inwardly. How was he going to keep his hands off her if she was willing to get this close? “I’ll grab my stuff from the bedroom once I’ve collected your rubbish in the barrow,” he added, turning away. “Come and see your five-star alfresco bathroom.”
They walked out together and she stood there shaking her head as she inspected his makeshift effort.
“It’s not that bad,” he said in its defence.
“Nooooo…”she said, taking a step inside and turning in a half circle so she was facing him. “It’s actually quite ingenious.”
“Glad you approve.”
“Industrial designer,” she said, tapping her chest. “I’m always looking at things from that point of view.” She nodded slowly, smiling at the palm tree shower curtain. “Hate to think how long that old thing’s been hanging there. Something else to chuck out soon.”
*
A freshly showered Anna stood pretending to fuss with her luggage as Jason collected his shaver and a couple of spare garments. Really she was just enjoying the sight of his gorgeous muscular body as he moved about the room before leaving for the van.
She had no idea what would happen in the next few hours. Was still astounded she’d offered and that he’d accepted the invitation to share the wine.
Maybe they’d go out for a meal? They couldn’t sit drinking all night without eating.
Would he make a move on her?
If he did, she wouldn’t turn him down flat. And if he didn’t, then she’d try and send him some subtle encouragement while the rest of the family was out of the way, although God knows her flirting skills were rusty. It was months since her last serious relationship. Since then she hadn’t met anyone she’d wanted a second date with. A hot little fling with hunky Jason Jones might be exactly the Christmas treat she needed and deserved to help her wind down. Then she could go back to Wellington feeling calmer and ready to face the year ahead. She hoped.
She’d swapped her shorts and red top for a black Karen Walker sundress with small red and white triangles scattered all over it. Shaken her hair out of its topknot and given it a swift brushing, hoping she looked smart enough for dinner, casual enough for a beach house, and pretty enough to tempt him. Dithered between high heels and her ballerina flats for a few seconds and settled on some low-heeled strappy sandals instead.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror, trying to see what had changed to make her behave like this.
Seriously contemplating sex with a virtual stranger.
Would it bring her any peace, or would it just ratchet her anxiety up even higher? No further enlightened, she grabbed her purse and walked the length of the long timber-floored hallway to collect the bottle of Sauvignon from the refrigerator. To the loud and soulful wailing of Rod Stewart’s ‘We are Sailing’ from the beach sound system, she locked the house and went in search of the van.
CHAPTER 4 – BIRDS AND BEDTIME
Jason stood beside the open passenger door as though ready to help her up again. He moved in time to the music, and she wondered what he’d be like to dance with. That slinky rocking of his hips boded well - for more than dancing. She easily pictured him looming above her, hot eyes intent on hers as he pushed inside her, again and again, breath catching with the pleasure of every thrust. Sliding deep, unable to hold back his soft sexy grunts as she grabbed his butt and pulled him close. An ideal Christmas treat.
Hell, what was wrong with her today?
“Worth the wait,” he said, making no attempt to conceal his slow and thorough inspection as she walked toward him.
She smiled. Looked away. Looked back again. “Thought I’d better change, not knowing quite what we’d be doing.”
He held out a hand which she found herself reaching for.
“Whatever it is,” he said, “I’m not planning to share you with anyone else.” He boosted her up onto the van seat, and his gaze fastened on her again, possessive and hungry.
A frisson of pleasure rippled up her spine and the twitches came out to play again. “So no Scarlet Bay Tavern?” she asked a little breathlessly.
He shook his head. “We’ll see what Uncle Eddie’s left in the fridge today. Don’t worry - I’ll feed you.” He closed her door.
She sat there in a delicious haze, watching as he strode around to the driver’s side, and knowing now that he definitely wanted her. “Who’s Uncle Eddie?” she asked as he pulled his door open.
Jason gave her another of those slow appreciative smiles, and Anna clutched the neck of the wine bottle more tightly. God, she really hadn’t expected to find a big rough builder so attractive.
“Not my Uncle Eddie,” he said. “Hoolie’s Uncle Eddie. I gave the boy a job this year as a favour because Eddie was worried he’d start to run wild.”
Anna sharpened her gaze, yet again alert to a problem that might need solving. “How wild? Wild enough to steal the stuff from the other house?”
Jason’s smile dropped away. “No way,” he said, shaking his head. “He’s a good kid. Shaping up well. Just had a few mates Uncle Eddie was uneasy about.”
He fired up the engine and pulled onto the road, driving slowly along the seafront past people walking their dogs, or wandering hand in hand, or carrying surfboards across to the beach in the golden evening air. The waves looked pretty tame now, and Anna tried to immerse herself in the general air of relaxation.
Please God, let me wind down tonight.
She smoothed the skirt of her dress against her thighs and saw his dark eyes flick sideways to her legs. She swallowed. “How did he get a name like Hoolie? Not short for hooligan, then?”
Jason grinned broadly and surprised her by reaching out and touching her hand, running a finger gently over her knuckles. She surprised herself even more by not pulling away.
He threaded his fingers through hers and tightened his grip as he drove. His hand was huge, warm, and not as rough as she’d expected. Butterflies set up a soft tumbling inside her.
“Hoolie Hakaraia,” he said. “All his family have good names. He’s Julio Iglesias Hakaraia.”
Anna tried to stifle a laugh and then gave in to it, snorting helplessly.
“And Uncle Eddie is Edmund Hillary Hakaraia,” Jason added with unmistakable relish.
“Really?” she spluttered, still laughing. “Lucky they didn’t chuck Mount Everest in there as well. Doesn’t sound very indigenous though.”
Jason gave her fingers a brief squeeze. “I bet he’s got some Maori names as well. Maybe a whole string of them. Anyway, because I gave Hoolie a job, Eddie keeps an eye on my place for me and sometimes makes himself a cuppa. You’ll see why when we arrive. It’s a bit isolated. He spends a lot of time fishing and he spreads his catch around. I never know what I’ll find when I get home, but it’s rare I have to open a can of anything, and no-one’s ever broken in with him on guard.”
He increased the van’s speed as they reached the open road, keeping her hand in his. “So you’d know this area well if you’ve stayed here every Christmas?”
“Pretty much,” Anna agreed. “Although family holidays mean there are so many of us we don’t have to go far afield for company. I don’t remember seeing you before.” She craned her neck as they drove past more pohutukawa trees in full blossom. Underneath them the road was red with their silky scarlet tassels.
Jason flicked a glance in her direction. “I lived further along the coa
st until eighteen months ago.”
Anna nodded, privately thinking her family and his were unlikely to have met socially anyway, and then castigating herself for such prejudice.
“Going to be a good summer, according to Eddie,” he said, breaking into her thoughts. “With all the early bloom.”
“I thought that was supposed to be the cabbage trees?”
“Whatever. Maori always say a good season’s coming. Right attitude to have, I reckon.”
She sent him a quizzical glance. “You’re an optimist then?”
“Have to be. Why would anything work out if you’re looking on the bad side all the time? Fu-u-u-uck!!!” He slammed on the brakes and released her hand as a big blue and black pukeko flapped slowly up from the side of the road, straight into their path. The van lurched sideways, skidded, then straightened. Anna found his arm flung out across her to hold her safe.
The chicken-sized bird gained just enough height not to plummet through the windscreen, and Jason released her from his awkward sideways grip. His concerned gaze found hers. “You okay, Frosty? Didn’t hit yourself on the dash? Stupid bloody birds. No wonder you see them dead sometimes. I shot a couple a while back -”
“What?” she demanded, staring at him open mouthed. “You can’t… aren’t they’re protected?”
He shook his head and tried to reclaim her hand, but she clamped it to her chest, right over her rapidly beating heart.
His lips curved into his slow trademark smile. “Chill, babe. No harm done. I was shooting with a camera. Doesn’t make them any less stupid though.”
She closed her mouth, somewhat mollified. “I’m fine. The seat-belt held me. I guess my pulse will go back to normal eventually.” She rubbed her fingers to and fro, willing her heart to slow down. “Are you okay too?”
He gave a short laugh as he accelerated again. “Never better. Pleased I didn’t kill you on our first date.”
“Hardly a date,” she said, biting back a smile. She let her hand slide to her lap, and peered out of the window in case there were other pukeko contemplating instant death.
