by Jewel, Bella
“Oh god. You’re right. I did do that. That’s what I was doing all along. When did you become so sage? Have you been taking psychology classes or something since I’ve been gone?” I hang my head and wonder where it all went wrong. I don’t have to wonder for long though, because I already know the answer. My parent’s tragic, early and untimely death.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, sweetie, you did what came naturally to you. You’d just lost you parents for fucks sake and you latched onto people who you thought wouldn’t leave you.”
“Last night wasn’t the first time he’s kissed me,” I admit.
Jules’ eyes widen. “You failed to mention that. Details,” she demands as only a best friend can.
“I went to a local waterhole for a swim. He turned up …,” I go on to tell her everything that happened with Jackson that day, word for word.
“Holy shit,” she exclaims when I’m done, “told you he had it bad for you. And the fact that you remember everything he said, the way he said it and how it made you feel, tells me I was right about the fact that you have feeling for him as well. Edie, girl, you got bad.” Then she breaks into song, “You got it, you got it bad …”
“You are crazy! This coffee is shit. Let’s get dressed and go down to the Coffee House for a real coffee,” I say.
“Do they have chocolate croissants?” Jules asks hopefully.
“Yep.” At least, they did the other day. I hope they’re a menu regular and not just a special, otherwise Jules might get her cranky pants on.
“What are we waiting for? Let’s go.”
“You two look a bit worse for wear,” Ava chuckles as Jules and I walk into the coffee shop.
“You’re a freak. You were as drunk as us last night and here you are the next morning, not only working but working with food. That’s not normal,” I tell her.
“I’ve got a cast iron gut. I never get hangovers. I’ve been here since six this morning,” she pokes out her tongue.
“Bragger,” Jules scowls.
“What can I getcha?” Ava laughs.
“Large vanilla latte and a chocolate croissant for me. What are you having?” Jules turns to me and asks.
“I’ll have a large caramel latte and a slice of that bacon and egg pie.”
“No worries. You guys sitting inside or out?”
“Out,” we answer in unison.
“Won’t be long,” Ava says.
Jules and I make our way outside and pick a table in the sun. We don’t have to wait long before Ava sets our order down in front of us. We both breathe deep the aroma of the coffee and make ‘ahhh’ sounds.
“Edie, last night Bastiaan and Zekia told me that they’re leaving town in a couple of days to continue their travels. What do you think about catching up for a meal and drinks at the pub one night before they leave?”
“Oh no! They’re leaving? I thought they’d be sticking around for a while,” I’m saddened by the thought. I really like Bastiaan and Zekia.
“Yeah, they’ve been here a while, though. They want to keep moving – see as much of Oz as they can before they have to go back to Jamaica,” Ava explains.
“Okay, well I’m in. I’d love to have drinks and dinner. Just let me know which night – I work day shifts this week so I’ll be free any time after seven.”
“I only just met them, but I’d love to be there.” Jules replies.
“Let’s swap mobile numbers and then I can text you with a time and day. I’ll ask Bastiaan and Zekia when suits them and we’ll go from there.”
Jules and I give our numbers to Ava and she programs them into her phone. The she sends us a text so we’ve got her number. Ava then goes back in to keep working and Jules and I enjoy our coffee and food with the warm Northern Territory sun beaming down on us. Bliss.
After finishing our coffee, Jules and I decide to hire a DVD and spend the day vegging out. The only place to hire DVD’s was at the supermarket so we headed there, got a couple of movies and some munchies and made our way back to cottage.
We managed to get through Pitch Perfect, The Hangover and Bridesmaids before we decided to get some proper food for dinner. Our hangover had long since dissipated but even so, I knew we were going to have a quiet night.
“What do you feel like?” Jules asks as she sweeps a coat of mascara on her eyelashes.
“I saw someone the other day eating the schnitzel so I’m going to try that. It’s monstrous though so I hope they do doggy bags.”
“Mmm, that sounds yum. I think I’ll have that too.”
We order our schnitzels with Dianne sauce and veggies and make it part way through before we’re fit to explode. Luckily, they do give doggy bags, so Jules and I take our leftovers back to cottage and spend the night lazing and watching more DVD’s.
I hear my phone ping its text message notification sound at about half past ten. Wondering who it could be I reach over and look at the display. It’s a number I don’t recognize.
*Figured out a day I can feed you yet?*
*Who is this?* I reply, knowing damn well who it is. How the hell did he get my number? I turn to Jules.
“Did you give Jackson my number?” I accuse.
“No,” she answers, dragging the word out. That, and the way her lips are twitching are a clear sign she’s lying.
“Jules! Why on Earth did you do that?”
“You needed a push in the right direction,” she shrugs.
“I’ve told you I don’t like him. He infuriates me.”
“You say that, but actions speak louder than words. There’s enough sexual chemistry between you two, to conduct the electricity for this entire town. That and the fact that you like him - a best friend knows these things even if you’re too blind to admit it. Is the reason I gave him your number,” she smiles smugly.
“Sexual tension doesn’t matter if he annoys the shit out of me, and I don’t like him because, did I mention, he annoys the shit out of me,”
“So just fuck him out of your system,”
I gasp. “Julia,”
“What? You know you want to. And don’t try to tell me you haven’t imagined what that muscled God like creature is capable of in the sack. What all that tan, toned hardness would feel like moving in and out of you. Don’t tell me you haven’t imagined what his cock looks like, how big it is, whether it’s thick, long, lean or fat.” She clenches her legs together. “Man, just thinking about it has me turned on! What’d his text say?”
I can’t disagree with her because she’s right – I have thought about all that … and more.
Just then another text comes through.
*How many other men you got offering to cook for you?”*
*You didn’t answer my question.* I reply.
*You didn’t answer mine*
“What is he saying? What are you typing?” Jules excitedly asks.
“He’s asking me if I decided on a night he can cook for me, I asked who was texting me. Now we’re doing the ‘you didn’t answer my question’ back and forth thing.”
“Just set a night for fucks sake. You want this, Edie. Just trust me – he’ll be good for you.”
*I asked first* I type then hit send. Then I notice I have a massive grin on my face, so I concentrate on wiping it. I’m excited, anticipating his next text. This is fun. I don’t have to wait long before he replies.
*Ace, you know who it is. Now answer my fucking question. How many other man you got offering to cook you dinner?*
*I know. None.* I quickly type. He sounds angry and for some reason, I don’t want to make him feel like that.
*Good. Pick a day and get back to me ASAP*
I chew my bottom lip as I contemplate having dinner with him. What would it hurt? I could go, he’d annoy the crap out me, it would prove my point and I’d come home.
I don’t reply, instead, I lie back and get lost in my thoughts. Thoughts of Jackson. Me. Me and Jackson. What Jackson would look like naked. How he would make me feel in
bed. Whether he would take the time to look after me, or whether he’d wham, bam, thank you ma’am me and leave me unfinished. I dismiss that thought immediately. Something tells me Jackson Henley would never leave a woman hanging in the bedroom. He radiates vibes that scream, ‘I’m an orgasm inducing machine.’
Jules and I spend the next few days catching up, shopping and I take her swimming at Buchaneer’s waterhole. I have three day shifts during the week and while I’m working Jules lounges by the pool; working on her tan. As per usual, Jackson sits on his stool at the end of the bar for his lunch hour and then again from around six o’clock until I finish my shift. He doesn’t speak a whole lot to me, which pleases me, except to say ‘Hi’, ‘Bye’, and to order what he wants to drink. But he does watch me. In fact it seems every time I sneak a peek at him, he’s staring at me, and while I’m quick to look away, he just keeps on looking unashamedly. I wonder what’s going on in his head.
I’m on my last day shift, the night of Bastiaan and Zekia’s farewell dinner. It’s Wednesday night. Ava had texted us on Monday and told us the details. It worked out well because I finished at seven and everyone was set to arrive at seven thirty. It hasn’t escaped my notice that Jackson isn’t here tonight. Maybe he’s given up. I ignore the sick feeling in my stomach and continue working.
Jules was supposed to meet me in the dining room just after seven but she was running late. I found Luke sitting by his lonesome so I went over, pulled up a chair and sat down; happy to take the weight off my feet. I take a sip of my beer and say, “How’s it going, Luke?”
“Not bad, Edie. What about yourself?”
“Glad to be finished work, I’ll tell you that much,” I reply wearily.
“You, uh, would you like to join me for dinner, Edie?” Luke stutters.
“Oh, Luke, I’d love to but I’m having dinner and drinks with a few people to send off Bastiaan and Zekia.”
“Oh. Some other time then?” He asks hopefully.
“You bet,” I reply.
“Can I speak with you,” a rumbly voice sounds from behind me. I turn in my chair to see Jackson standing there. Body tensed, eyes blazing, clearly unhappy.
“Sure. I’ll catch up with you later, Luke,”
“Sure thing, Edie. Jack, how’s it goin’, mate?”
“Could be better, Luke. See ya,” he says in a tight, restrained tone.
What the hell is wrong with him?
He takes my hand and leads me around the side of the pub and into a small nook.
“Jackson, what’s going on?” I demand.
“What in the fuck are you doing in there on a fuckin’ date with Luke fuckin’ Stewart? You told me the other night in a text that there were no other guys chasing you. I come in a bit late one fuckin’ night and already some other dickhead is trying to cut me out. What the fuck, Ace?” He’s breathing heavy and clearly pissed off to the max. I’m annoyed that he’s come in here acting like a Neanderthal. From the way he’s acting, I guess I should be a little glad that he didn’t stand there in front of Luke and bang on his chest while grunting, “My woman. Woman is mine.”
“Firstly, there are no other guys chasing me, Jackson. I don’t have to explain what I was doing just now because there’s nothing going on between you and me, which means you’re not entitled to know that information. But, because you’re clearly upset about it, and because I don’t want you going in there and ripping heads off, I will tell you that what you saw in there was completely innocent. I am not the type of girl who “dates” more than one person at a time, and I definitely don’t lead men on. I am a one-man woman and the fact that you would immediately jump to conclusions and think otherwise, quite frankly, it pisses me the fuck off. Now, I’m waiting on some friends to show so I’m going back inside.” He’s standing in front of me in the narrow nook which means that he’ll either have to move or I’ll have to squeeze past him, and it will be a tight squeeze.
“Excuse me,” I say as I try to maneuver past him.
He grips my waist with one hand to halt my progress, then he gently pushes me back until I hit the wall behind me.
“You’re right, Ace, and I don’t think you’re that type of girl. It’s just … you’re under my fuckin’ skin. I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop talking about you. I’m driving my brother up the wall because I can’t get you outta my head. You drive me crazy. I’ve never felt jealous in my fuckin’ life but just then, in there, when I walked in and saw you with Luke,” he shakes his head, “I felt like knocking him out. Please, please just have dinner with me,” he voice has turned soft and he flush up against me. His mouth is so close to mine, our breath is mingling. I want him to kiss me.
“Please?” He leans in and kisses me softly, “Give me a chance to show you how good it can be between us.” Kiss. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel that current between us.” Kiss. “Have dinner with me?” Kiss. “Let me cook for you.” Kiss. “I want you.” When he comes in to lightly kiss me again, I wrap my hands around his neck and deepen the kiss. He groans and presses deeper into me. My nipples harden and I feel wetness gather between my thighs. I moan when his tongue enters my mouth, sending bolts of electricity shooting through my body. He presses in harder again and this time I feel the effect our kiss is having on him. His hands snake from my waist to down around my ass where he grips me and pulls me against him. All too soon he pulls back slightly, “Say you’ll have dinner with me.”
“Yes,” I whisper. I’m sick of fighting this attraction, and maybe Jules is right – I can fuck him out of my system. The problem with that is, before that kiss I might have thought it would only take one night, but after that kiss, I’m thinking a lifetime of having Jackson Henley inside me wouldn’t be enough to clear him from my system.
I’m in trouble. Big, big trouble.
He closes his eyes and rests his forehead on mine. “Thank you.”
I look up at him through my eyelashes. “I will text you. We’ll make it for after Jules goes home, okay?”
“Whenever you want, Ace. Just don’t make me wait too long. You better get in there to your friends.”
Oh shit! I totally forgot about that.
“Shit. They’ll all be wondering where I am,” I panic.
He kisses me short, sweet and softly once more and the grabs my hand and leads me back inside the pub. He veers off to go the bar and I go back to the dining room, expecting everyone to already be there.
“Hi, sorry I’m a bit late, I was … busy,” I say as I walk up to Ava. And then I remember, Ava has feelings for Jackson. I don’t want to ruin our friendship – it’s only a new friendship after all, and I really like her. I’ll think about that later.
“No worries. Bastiaan and Zekia are just in the bar getting drinks and Jules isn’t here yet.”
“Jules isn’t here yet? Where on Earth would she be?” I ask, confused.
Just then Jules comes rushing in, face flushed and glowing and she’s panting.
“Hi, hi, sorry I’m late.” She pants out.
“Where have you been? What wrong? Why are panting?” My questions are rapid-fire fast.
She waves her hand around, “Oh, it’s nothing. I just ran from the cottage – lost track of time, you know how it is.”
Somehow I’m not convinced but I decide to grill her about it later. She’s been up to something.
We spend the night eating, drinking and laughing, but all too soon, Bastiaan and Zekia have to leave. They’re heading off early in the morning to their next destination.
I pull Zekia in for a hug. “Make sure you guys keep in touch, okay. We want to know where you are, where you’re going and where you’ve been.” I tell her.
“We be keepin’ in touch for sure, Edie.” She releases me and moves down the line of people wanting to say goodbye.
“Me never forget you man. You be de first person to ever steal me line,” Bastiaan laughs and pulls me in for a hug.
“Hey, Bastiaan?” I grin.
“Yeah, man?”
“I’ve got a joke for you. Want to hear it?”
He nods and smiles a big white toothy grin. “Let me be hearin’ it, den,”
“A blind man beats a man to death. When he went to court, the judge asked him why he beat the man to death.
The blind man said: (I give him my best Jamaican accent) “Me beat him because him say, ‘Lick me and you wi see’, "but all now me naah see nuttin."
Bastiaan bursts into laughter, putting his hand to his face and bending his knee up in his signature laugh pose. He shakes his head at me, trying to contain his laughter, “Me not know what more funny – you be tellin’ de joke or de way you try to speak like de Jamaican,”
“Hey, my accent is not that bad,” I snap, mockingly.
“Not dat bad,” he agrees before adding, “not dat good edder.”
“Oh, go away. Go on, on your bike. You’re leaving early in the morning.”
He turns serious and then says to me, “We be keepin’ in touch, Edie,”
“You bet!”
“So, I agreed to have dinner with Jackson last night,” I tell Jules as we’re lying by the pool sunning ourselves.
“Really? What changed your mind?” She props herself up on one elbow and looks over at me.
“He sort of muddled my mind with kisses and I agreed. I was under the influence … of Jackson. Goddamn, that boy is intoxicating,” I mumble.
She chuckles, then asks, “When?”
“I told him I’d text him after you leave,”
“You don’t have to wait ‘til I leave. I’m a big girl, I can find something to amuse myself while you go out, you know that.”
“I know, but I want to spend as much time with you as I can before you have to go. Speaking of you amusing yourself, what were you doing last night?”
She groans and flops down onto her back. “I may, or may not have been, fucking the brains out of a cowboy named Clay.”