by Jewel, Bella
His intuition is both unsettling and comforting. He seems to genuinely care, and I realise I trust him. Perhaps it’s because of all the drawings he left for me, or perhaps it’s the way my body reacts to him that I trust him. But I can’t see any benefit in telling him about what I went through five years ago.
I pick up one of the paintbrushes and dip it in the blue paint. Without meeting Josh’s gaze, I say, “Maybe it’s best if we just focus on the art for now.”
For the rest of the day, Josh gives each of us equal attention just like he does in every class. With every passing minute and every quiet brushstroke, I feel more alive than I have in a long time. The colour of the lake darkens with the sky.
The storm clouds roll in, and I wrap my arms around myself, feeling the chill in the air as the temperature quickly drops.
“What a shame,” Josh says. “Time to go, ladies and gents. I reckon it’ll be pouring within the hour, so best you get back on the road as soon as possible. My bet is it’ll be dry as a bone past the Cat and Mouse. I’ve seen it so many times—torrential here and nowhere else.”
“This has been a wonderful day,” Zoey says, picking up her canvas. “Thank you for having us out here, Josh.”
“You’re welcome, Zoey.”
“Absolutely,” Eric says, shaking his hand. “I’ll be returning next month, for sure.”
For some reason, I’m still standing by Josh’s side while the two cars disappear down the driveway. To an outsider, I guess it would look like we’re a couple saying goodbye to our guests. I feel way too comfortable with this man and realise that I need to get going, too.
“Thank you,” I say quietly when Josh looks down at me. “I’m glad I came.”
Josh smiles, but there’s a sad tinge to it. It might be wishful thinking, but I wonder if he’s disappointed that I’m leaving. If he could see my thoughts, he’d know that I’m disappointed, too. I love it here, but it’s not the farm I’m sad to leave—it’s him.
“I hope you don’t think this is inappropriate or pushy, but you can stay here tonight if you want. I promise my intentions are almost entirely honourable.” He glances back towards the house. “I have several spare rooms, and I’m worried about you driving alone in this weather.”
We both look up at the sky. It has darkened considerably even in the short time since the others left.
“That’s sweet of you, Josh, but I should get home, and I’m comfortable driving in the rain.” I smile up at him. “I’m a country girl.”
He sighs, nodding. “Take it easy then, okay?” He walks me to my car. “It’ll be really slippery when it starts to rain. We haven’t had any in a while.”
“Will do.” I rummage in my bag for my keys, then climb in. “Thanks again for today. I enjoyed the change of scenery. I think I needed it more than I thought.”
“You’re welcome any time,” he says, tapping the roof of my car.
I glance back at the cabin and the lake beyond and hope I do have the opportunity to return. “That’s very generous of you.”
“It’s just nice to see you smile.”
It’s been so long since I’ve felt so welcome and wanted. My friendship with Josh is bringing me back to life. As long as I don’t cross any lines, I can’t see the harm in it.
As I drive away, I glance in the rear-view mirror and see him watching me leave, and I can’t help but smile.
Happiness soon fades when the heavens open, and a deluge of rain hits. As I bump across the cattle grid, I lose all vision through the windscreen. The sensible thing to do would be to turn back, but I don’t.
I’ve only been driving for a few minutes when the car jolts, forcing me to slam on the brakes. I fight to keep it under control as I slip and slide across the road, eventually coming to a stop on the gravel shoulder—and that’s when I discover that I have a flat tyre.
That’s just freaking perfect. Dusk, deserted road, dark forest, torrential rain. Of course I have a flat tyre. That’s Sod’s Law, right?
“Shit-fuckity-fuck-fuck-shitty-shit-fuck-fuckity-shit!” Thumping the palms of my hands against the steering wheel, I cry out in frustration.
I want to get home, and this is the last thing I need. When I’ve calmed down somewhat, I weigh up my options. Stay in my car and wait for the rain to stop, and who knows when that will be, or suck it up and change the tyre in the rain. I take a few deep breaths, count myself down, then leap out.
“Ahhhh,” I screech, soaking wet. Realising there’s no point worrying about getting wet given I can’t actually get any wetter, I look up. The road has been carved through the forest, so I’m looking through a gap in the trees to the darkening sky. It’s actually quite breathtaking seeing thousands of droplets streaming down to smack me in the face. Leaning back on the car, I stretch my arms out beside me and close my eyes, allowing the rain to machine gun my body as I lean back into the hard metal and remember being caught in the rain with Ki.
“Too late,” he said, smiling at me, both of us soaking wet.
Placing my hands above my head, I stared up at the dark clouds and smiled as the rain splashed down on my face.
“You’re so beautiful,” Ki said, raising his voice to be heard over the pouring rain.
I dropped my gaze to meet his, and my hands cupped his face. “So are you.”
We stumbled away from the clearing to seek protection under one of the trees. The rain continued to pour down, but the only thing I was aware of was his soft lips on mine and his strong arms encircling my body, claiming me. I never wanted this moment to end.
Chapter 21
A loud clap of thunder snaps me back to the present. Pushing off the car, I open the boot to find the jack and spare. The spare is easy to locate, but the jack isn’t anywhere obvious. Where the hell is it?
“Shit-fuckity-fuck-fuck-shitty-shit-fuck-fuckity-shit!”
I haven’t had a flat tyre since buying this car second-hand a few years ago, so now I’m wondering if it ever had one. Determined to not let this situation get the better of me, I keep searching and eventually find it in a side compartment I hadn’t even realised existed.
Mereki made me practice changing the tyre on his mum’s car, so I know what to do, but there’s a big difference between changing a tyre on a flat driveway on a sunny day and this. Thankfully, where I pulled over is almost flat, but it is getting muddier by the second, and it’s also getting darker. I need to get this done as soon as possible.
After loosening the nuts with the crossbar, I drop to my knees beside the car and peer under, trying to locate the jack point. I’ve been told it’s typically in the same position in all cars, so I know where to look and sure enough, I find it. Positioning the jack, I manage to raise the car enough to remove the tyre. Once I have the spare in place, I tighten the nuts, release the jack, then give the wheel brace one last turn. Standing up, completely covered in mud and drenched from head to toe, I place my hands on my hips and smile. I feel a sense of accomplishment and give myself a mental pat on the back. I am a strong, independent woman who can take care of herself.
Returning the flat tyre and jack to the boot, I saunter back to the driver’s seat. If I’m honest, I’m feeling smug and almost wish someone was around to witness my awesome display of girl power. This lasts for about as long as it takes to turn the key in the ignition and hear the dreaded click of an engine that refuses to turn over.
“What now?” I screech, scanning the dash for any warning lights. My heart sinks when I see the fuel gauge below the empty line.
“Shit-fuckity-fuck-fuck-shitty-shit-fuck-fuckity-shit!” I say, thumping the steering wheel even harder this time.
Getting out of the car, I look up and down the street. I am no damsel in distress ordinarily, but I am at a dead end. Again, I only have two options. Walk for God knows how long back to the Cat and Mouse, which may or may not be open, hoping no axe murderer stops and chops me up. Or I can walk the short distance back to Josh’s farm. Axe murderer or Josh.
&
nbsp; Grabbing my bag, I jump out then lock the car. I don’t know why I locked it when a prospective thief wouldn’t get far unless they happened to be carrying petrol with them, but it’s a force of habit. Without any further hesitation, I start the short trek. This is so humiliating.
“Emerson?” Josh rushes forward when he opens the door and finds me standing on his front porch like a drowned rat.
A full-body shake has taken hold, and my hair clings to my face and shoulders. I’m sure what little makeup I was wearing is now a streaky mess down my cheeks. Even without looking in a mirror, I know I must look like a complete and utter disaster.
I shrug. “I changed my mind about staying.”
He chuckles, ushering me inside, but I hold my hands up in protest.
“This is stating the obvious, but I’m soaking wet. I don’t want to mess up your floors.” I try to push the hair away from my face. “Maybe you could bring me a towel or something out here?”
“Emerson. Please come inside. You’re gonna catch your death out here unless you get dried off, and I don’t give a shit about the floors.”
Relenting, I step inside, wrapping my arms around my body. Looking down, I can see a puddle already forming at my feet. “I got a flat tyre and ran out of fuel a little way down the road.” I cringe at how pathetic I sound. “Perhaps you wouldn’t mind taking me to the closest . . .”
“You can’t drive back to the city soaking wet, and the rain is getting harder. I’m going to insist you stay the night, and we’ll sort out your car in the morning.”
I rub my face, frustrated with the whole situation and by the fact I’m actually happy with the turn of events. I want to be here, and I want to spend more time with Josh.
“This way,” he says, walking ahead of me down a hallway off to the left of the entry. He continues right to the end, then opens a door and walks in. I follow him into what I find to be a gorgeous bedroom, but Josh has disappeared through another door I assume to be an en-suite. I rush towards it, not wanting to keep dripping on the carpet. Sure enough, he’s pulling some fluffy, white towels down from a rack and placing them on the vanity. “This is the room my mum stays in, so there’s some girly stuff in here you’re welcome to use, and I was about to put a load of washing on, so just leave your wet clothes outside the door.” I rub my hands up and down my goosebump-covered arms. “A warm shower will sort you out. I’ll find some dry clothes for you to wear, then come to the kitchen. I make a mean hot chocolate.”
“This is so nice of you, Josh. I’m really sorry for all the hassle. I can’t believe I didn’t fill up on the way, and I feel like a complete—”
Josh cuts me off by placing his fingertips gently on my lips. “Stop, Emerson. You might remember you staying is what I’d hoped for, so please don’t apologise for me getting what I want.”
I smile against his fingertips, and his eyes drop to where he’s touching me. My eyes track his, and I’m momentarily entranced by our connection.
“You should get warmed up,” Josh says and takes a step back. It should’ve been me who pushed him away, but I was enjoying his touch too much. This is bad. Really, really bad.
I nod and give him a small smile that slips away the second Josh turns and disappears through the door. I give myself a quick pep talk. I didn’t choose this, and I didn’t want to break down with no alternative but to return here. This was not my doing.
While the water heats up in the shower, I squelch awkwardly out of my soaking T-shirt, jeans, and underwear. It is such a relief to feel my body warm up, and I could stand here for hours if I wasn’t conscious of being water smart in the country. I also don’t want to give myself too much time to think about the fact that I am alone, miles from anywhere, with a man I find devastatingly attractive both in looks and personality. As I towel myself dry, I’m hit with the idea that maybe the universe is trying to push me towards Josh. But why? If it was just about the art, surely the universe would’ve had the decency to give me a woman tutor rather than someone I would be so physically drawn to.
Josh has laid out one of his white T-shirts and a pair of navy, drawstring track pants. Once I’m dressed, I bundle my wet clothes in the towel and head out to find him. The house is easy to navigate. The bedrooms run along the front facing the driveway whilst the whole back of the house is mostly open plan with the spectacular views across the lake.
“I considered floor-to-ceiling glass all the way along but decided against it for environmental reasons. I wanted it to be as environmentally friendly as possible, and it would be too costly to heat and cool with that much glass. The carbon footprint would be horrible.”
“That’s very responsible of you,” I say, taking the cup of steaming hot chocolate from him and wandering over to the large picture window in the kitchen. “The view is still incredible.”
“This house was my father’s dream, but he never got to see it built. We’d come out here most weekends and stay in the boathouse, or we’d camp.”
“Why didn’t he build the house?”
He shakes his head, and sadness descends over his features. “My dad was more of a talker than a doer. We’d talk in detail about every aspect of the house, and I’d always push him to get an architect to draw up some plans. His response was always the same.” He takes a sip from his mug before continuing. “One day.”
“He put it off too long,” I say in a whisper.
“Yep. I should’ve pushed harder or told Mum about his dream, but I never did.”
“You weren’t to know he was going to die, Josh. You can’t carry around guilt for what you think you should’ve done when you were so young.”
“I built this house for him and tried to make it as close to what he described as I could remember.”
We walk around the island bench and into the lounge. French doors lead out onto the deck where we’d been painting earlier, but it’s hard to see the view properly, as the glass is fogged up. The rain is still heavy but has eased since I arrived. It is dark outside, and I’m certainly glad I made the decision to walk back here rather than wait it out in my car. I could’ve been there all night if I’d waited for the rain to stop.
“Do you ever get lonely out here alone?” I ask. Josh looks at me, and I scrunch my whole face up, hoping it didn’t sound like I was hinting at anything. Why am I so interested in his relationship status when it’s absolutely none of my business?
“I’m not always alone, Emerson. No.”
My cheeks heat at the implication he’s brought women out here. The idea makes my stomach drop. “Oh. Of course. I don’t know why I asked that.”
Josh laughs. “Mum and my brothers come and stay on a fairly regular basis.”
“Oh, right. So, you don’t have a girlfriend?”
“The answer is no.”
Oh, I mouth, failing miserably to hide my smile.
Taking another sip from his steaming mug, Josh places it down on the timber dining table and moves closer to me. “I told you already I’m drawn to you in a way I’ve never experienced before.” He takes my mug from me and places it down next to his, then moves right into my personal space.
I can’t breathe. “Josh. I . . .”
He places his hands on my cheeks, pushing the loose strands of my hair out of my wide eyes. “Shh, Emerson.”
My mind goes completely blank when he says my name, and all I can do is stare at his mouth. It’s obviously an unwritten invitation as that mouth is suddenly on mine.
I must be having an out-of-body experience. It can’t possibly be my arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer while I open my mouth to his greedy tongue. It can’t be me groaning as Josh’s hands move from my face to the back of my head then down my back before hugging me so close, I can feel him hard against me. This just can’t possibly be me—the girl who hasn’t been kissed by anyone other than her first and only love. The problem is this feels way too natural and way too good to be wrong. Josh is making me feel as if I’m the most precious thing
in the world. I know, because it’s the way Ki used to make me feel every day. Now I don’t exist.
Is it wrong to want to feel like I matter?
Is it wrong to want to feel important to someone?
Is it wrong to want to feel again?
Maybe it is, but I don’t think I can stop. I’ve crossed the line, and I take full responsibility. Josh has no idea about my circumstances, and I want to keep it that way for this weekend at least. I need to escape and to feel alive again, but can I live with the consequences?
I think Josh senses the chaos decimating my brain cells because he pulls back and holds my face reverently in his hands, again looking me in the eyes. “Is this too fast?” he asks. “I promised myself I wouldn’t push, and we can stop right now if this isn’t what you want. I don’t want you regretting anything you do with me.”
I squeeze my eyes shut briefly before meeting his concerned gaze again. “I have no regrets with you, Josh, but thank you for stopping when you did.”
“The ball’s in your court here, Emerson.” His eyes are soft and clear. As far as I can tell, this man has no secrets, no baggage, and his heart is completely open to what is so obviously happening between us. I might just be the worst thing that ever happened to him.
I nod, loving the feel of his large hands on me. I can feel the callouses and wonder whether it’s from working outdoors or from pencils and paintbrushes. My brain imagines how it would feel to have them roaming my naked body, perhaps when I’m leaning back against my car in the rain. Oh my God. I need my brain to shut it down before I rip our clothes off and have my wicked way. Who am I, and why am I still having an out-of-body experience?
“The rain’s stopped,” Josh announces, dropping his hands and walking back to the kitchen with our mugs, snapping me out of my sexy thoughts. “That was quite a storm, huh?”