Trustworthy or not, I shrugged. I wanted this man's hands on me. Whether his intentions were dirty or clean were of no consequence.
33
My skin tingling from Aidan's thorough ministrations in the hot water, I reluctantly dug out some clean clothes from my bag. I pulled on my knickers and I stretched my arms behind me to fasten my bra when I noticed Aidan standing in the open doorway, for I no longer saw any point in hiding from him as I dressed.
His appreciative smile widened when he knew I'd seen him. "Red," he said, gesturing at my matching underwear. "I like it."
I smiled. "Me, too," I admitted, holding up the similar-coloured shirt I planned to wear over my ruddy underwear.
Aidan reached for me as he took slow steps into the room. His hands cupped my breasts through the cloth. "You're irresistible in or on red satin, Bel," he murmured before he kissed me.
After some minutes, when all too soon we broke for breath, Aidan took the shirt from my hand. "You should put this on, or I won't be able to keep my hands off you." He helped me pull it over my head to cover my bra, before curling his hands around me again.
"Does it help?" I asked with a smile.
Aidan's expression wavered for a moment before he replied, "No. I know what's under your shirt and I can't stop thinking about them. I'll just have to try to restrain myself."
My laughter bubbled up and out, at the sheer determination in the man's expression. "It's all right," I said suddenly, realising as I stared at his shirt. "I'll be restraining myself from stroking your chest, too."
Both of us laughing now, Aidan folded me into a more-than-welcome hug.
"Ah, Bel," he whispered, touching his lips to my hair. "You should get some pants on so we can go, or we'll be here like this all day."
We exchanged a lengthy glance as we undoubtedly shared the thought that an all-day embrace was hardly undesirable.
"You'll really like the whiskeys and the food's good, too," Aidan said half-heartedly.
My stomach made its presence known with an obscene gurgle.
"Ah, don't let me be so selfish, keeping you from eating lunch when you're hungry. Here." He reached over and snagged my jeans from the bed. "Put these on and some shoes and we'll go."
Reluctantly, I pulled the jeans on and fastened them, slipping my feet into my shoes so I'd be ready.
I took a quick glance at my reflection and realised what I'd forgotten. "Wait. I just need to brush my hair."
34
Time turned tangled seaweed to smooth satin that Aidan wanted to stroke. Instead of restraining my hair as I normally would in a knotted bun or braid, I left it loose down my back.
As if I needed more encouragement, Aidan kept murmuring, "Beautiful. Just beautiful, Bel," each time he reached out to touch my curtain of hair.
"Do I look okay?" I asked, concerned.
Aidan looked me up and down as I scrutinised his clothing. He wore the same as me – jeans and a shirt, covered by a thick jacket. I cinched the belt of my coat tighter around my waist, avoiding the intensity of his gaze. His scrutiny still made me feel nervous.
"Like I keep saying, you're beautiful, Bel. No one will notice I'm there, if I walk in with you." Aidan held out his hand and I took it. "Let me drive. That way, you can drink as much as you like and I'll make sure you get home. Well, to my home, at least."
We headed out to his car. The seats still smelled of salt from my soaking yesterday.
We encountered no kangaroos on the drive, though the birds seemed out in force, fluttering through the watery sunlight filtering through the trees that lined the road.
He slid the Mini into the last spot in the parking lot. I hesitated, looking around, wondering how many of the townspeople would be inside the Distillery building.
Aidan's arm snaked around my waist, clamping me to his side. "It's all right, Bel. There'll still be plenty of food and whiskey left."
Still uneasy, I walked stiffly inside with him.
The room was packed. Bar stools, tables, chairs and sofas were all occupied by people. A fire rippled like a wave in the heater, flickering orange and blue through the sooty glass, and the room burbled with conversation and laughter. There was no place for us, except at the tables on the veranda, in the cold air outside.
I slipped from Aidan's embrace. "I'll go find us a table," I said, gesturing toward the veranda.
He nodded, pressing his lips together as if he was trying to squash unsaid words or laughter between them. "I'll get you a drink. Anything particular you'd like to eat?" He waved his hand at the menu.
I shrugged. "I don't mind. Whatever looks good." I meant it, too. With so many people around, I wasn't sure I'd taste a bite. I'd be watching them too warily, wondering and worrying and wishing I wasn't part of such a crowd.
I crossed to the veranda door and found a table on the decking that was half-hidden from the window, sitting so I'd be out of sight to the people inside, but in clear view of the door when Aidan walked through it. The sun touched my hands on the table, a faint whisper of warmth when compared to the wonderful man I waited for or the whiskey he'd bring me.
"Bel? What are you daydreaming about?"
My eyes flew open to see Aidan smiling at me, glasses in hand. I smiled right back, able to be completely honest. For once, I had nothing to hide. "You."
He set the drinks down and leaned across the table for a kiss, his tongue lightly caressing mine. He tasted of whiskey already. "I'm sorry, I started without you. Just a sip," he said, the slightest of apologies in his eyes.
I looked at the glasses on the table. Somehow, I had a lot of little ones, held together on a wooden board, not a single large glass like last night. Aidan had a similar board of glasses before him.
"A tasting paddle," Aidan offered. "With slight samples of what they have available for sale at the moment. We can enjoy these until our lunch is ready." He touched a finger to the tiny glass on the right end of the platter. "This is M79, the one that set you on fire last night."
I looked into his eyes at these words, eyes of blue fire, like the flame on the gas stove he'd cooked my breakfast on. Unlike this morning, I restrained myself to another kiss across the table, without throwing the rest of my body after it. When I slowly pulled back, I replied, "Then I'll keep that one 'til last."
Talking about each glass as if it held fruit, grain, herbs, smoke and soil, instead of golden brown liquid, he pointed out which to try. Try as I might, I couldn't taste all of the things he described in each glass. I'd never eaten soil nor smoke, but I didn't like those that supposedly contained them, either.
Yet after each glass was empty, I found I preferred the taste of the contents on his tongue, in yet another table-top kiss. When only one tiny glass of fire remained, a woman brought a tray to the table, containing the food Aidan had ordered for us. The tantalising smells wafting from the plates set my stomach complaining once more, so I took a fork and seized the nearest morsel to pop into my mouth. The wine-coloured slice of sausage proved spicier than it first appeared, so I coughed and choked until I reached for a glass of water to extinguish the unpleasant fire. I came up dry. There was no water – only the whiskey I wanted for later.
I staggered to my feet and coughed out something about getting a drink, pointing vaguely in the direction of the bar.
"Are you okay?" Aidan asked, worried.
I smiled and nodded between coughing as I tried to hurry inside.
At the bar, I had to wait behind some people who were tasting their way through paddles like mine. With some curiosity, I watched them as they cautiously sipped each glass. The women pulled faces, but the men seemed to be practicing blank expressions with each mouthful. I wondered whether it was the whiskey or the women that made them behave so strangely. Still I waited.
After some discussion, one of the men bought a bottle of whiskey, wrapped in a paper bag and tucked under his arm, as the group strode out of the Distillery.
I stepped up to the counter. "I'd like a big
bottle of water and a bottle of the last whiskey on the tasting paddle."
"The last one? M79? The prices are here," the barman said smoothly, pulling a sheet of plastic-coated paper toward me. He turned away to find a bottle of water and some glasses to go with it.
He clinked the bottle and glasses to the counter, then looked at me expectantly. My expression mirrored his, as I waited for the whiskey bottle. "And the whiskey?" I asked hoarsely.
He hesitated. "You did see the price…" he said as he pointed at the last line on the page. The number on the end was close to my weekly salary from the hospital.
Perhaps I should have hesitated, too, but I knew Aidan didn't earn much more than me. And he'd chosen to share his expensive bottle of whiskey with me last night. The least I could do was replace it. I glanced at the window, where I could just see Aidan's back as he sat outside, waiting for me. He looked lonely. Silently I extracted my credit card and held it out.
"A bottle of the M79?" the barman asked, again, just to make sure.
I nodded once and extended the card further. Perhaps if I replaced the bottle, he'd permit me to have a little more of the first bottle tonight…
The barman bustled around, pressing buttons on the little machines to process my payment, before handing me the bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag. With another glance outside, I tucked it into my bag. I'd surprise him with it later.
I picked up the water bottle and glasses, stepping slowly to the door outside.
35
"What are you doing sitting out here alone? You should come join us." I recognised both Jill's voice and the woman herself, even though she wore her casual clothes and not her hospital uniform. She blocked the doorway to the veranda.
"Ah, I'm…" Aidan began, half turning in his seat to face her.
Jill nodded slowly. "She left for Perth early yesterday. Cleared out of the house without a trace. Forget her, Aidan. She's gone."
Aidan's face twisted, as if he wasn't sure what to say or what expression he should wear. My heart twisted, too, in response to his obvious pain.
"She's the ice queen. Calm and collected in the most stressful of procedures, but a heart of ice in everything else, too. She was too cold for you to touch, Aidan. You should come inside and join us, instead of sitting here alone."
Me. The ice queen was me, a name I'd heard used for how precisely I could handle a difficult birth. It meant more than I'd thought. Cold that could shut out Aidan. Not any more.
I pushed the door open wider, excusing myself as I slipped past Jill with my eyes on the ground.
"There you are, Bel," Aidan said in relief.
I lifted my eyes to his face and met his relieved smile with my own much warmer one. Too cold for him to touch? Don't you dare say that about Aidan. I leaned down to kiss him as my hands placed the glassware on the table.
His lips touched mine in what he seemed to think was only going to be a perfunctory peck, but I persisted, lips parted and tongue poised, until he realised I had something more passionate in mind.
A minute or maybe three passed before I pulled away, to the sound of Jill's uncomfortable cough. I turned to face her, my hand clasped tightly in Aidan's. "We sat outside because it was a bit too crowded inside and we wanted to be alone for a bit." I smiled down at Aidan, the look in his eyes returning every drop of my warmth for him.
Jill sounded uncertain. "Well, there's space for you inside, if you two want to come in and join us." She retreated inside to the fire.
I kept hold of his hand as I slid into my seat. With my spare hand, I took another piece of the spicy sausage and popped it into my mouth. Now I was prepared for it, the burn was barely perceptible.
Aidan snorted and poured us each a glass of water. He gulped his down, before saying, "You should try some of the chicken, too. And the spring rolls, before I eat them all."
I did as he suggested, but I barely tasted any of them. I ate until I was full. All that remained was the chocolate whiskey.
Aidan didn't say a word 'til I'd finished eating. He just watched me, with a rueful smile on his face. When I was done, he asked, "Would you like to go inside, by the fire, with everyone else?" His eyes held yearning, but also understanding.
He wants to go inside, to the room full of people.
I hesitated. "I…"
"I usually sit on the sofa near the fire – most of the other regulars are happy to let me have the same spot, every week. We can sit in a corner, as far away from everyone as possible, if you like, or we can claim my spot by the fire. If they won't make space for you, you can sit on my lap." He grinned wickedly.
I felt lost. I didn't want to go inside and be the centre of attention.
Somehow, Aidan understood. "Or we can stay out here in the cold, if that's what you want," he added gently. "Let's have the last sip of whiskey." He lifted his tiny glass and clinked it against mine, before taking a sip.
I don't like the cold and I want to be warm with him. Wherever that may be.
I looked up into his eyes as I drained my glass. Chocolate fire on my tongue, I leaned across the table to kiss Aidan again. I didn't want the kiss to end. But it did, as his cold fingers touched my neck.
"Let's go inside," my voice said of its own volition. I want your hands as warm as they were on my skin this morning.
I pushed away from the table and stood up, stepping forward to stand by Aidan's side. He curled an arm around me and kissed me briefly. "Thank you, Bel," he murmured.
My heart swelled. "You're welcome," I said slowly, for the first time. His arm a comforting weight around my waist, I led the way inside.
36
As Aidan's hand rhythmically stroked my hair, I leaned my head against his shoulder and let my mind drift. Conversation washed over me like waves on a beach, but no comments were addressed to me and I had no opinions I wished to express. I was content, for the first time in as long as I could remember.
"Did you catch last night's footy game?"
"The Barkers lost two lambs last week…"
"The wife'll be at me if I don't chop some more wood for the week…"
"I'm thinking of trying a sour mash, like the Americans do. Not sure what I'll call it…"
"The Tans got a new Landcruiser yesterday."
"So, you never did tell us what happened to that midwife, Aidan," a voice said, bringing me back to the conversation.
I looked up to meet Aidan's eyes, gazing down on me. He bowed his head to kiss me before he answered, his eyes not leaving mine. "She warmed up to me after a while," he said softly with a broad smile. I felt my own lips lift to match his.
I sat up straighter and we shared a longer kiss, oblivious to the questioner or his conversation. I heard the veranda door squeak open, but I didn't turn to see.
"I'll go get some more wood for the fire. Wouldn't want you two lovebirds getting cold." The door squeaked again until it banged shut.
People began to murmur goodbye to Aidan and slowly shuffle toward the door. Aidan responded to everyone by name, while I summoned a smile and a nod for each one. My smile didn't seem so stiff any more, surfacing easily and staying on my face.
Soon it was just Aidan and I left. "Should we go?" I murmured, raising my eyebrows.
Aidan shook his head. "Ben's getting more fuel for the fire. We should at least wait 'til he gets back."
As if on cue, a voice from behind me asked, "Where's Ben?"
"Outside getting more wood," Aidan replied.
"That shouldn't take him more than five minutes. How long's he been gone?"
Aidan shrugged. "Maybe twenty?"
The barman crossed the room to the door. "I better go find out what's taking him so long." The door banged behind him.
"Just us." I smiled at Aidan, whose hands began to caress more than my hair and my face. His kisses turned more passionate, too, with no intention of stopping soon.
Running footsteps on the veranda ended in a protesting squeal as the door was ripped open.
"Doctor…Aidan…" the man gasped between breaths, both hands clamped to his chest. "Ben. Need a doctor."
37
I leaped to my feet before Aidan, my hand closing over his to pull him up beside me. "What happened?" I asked urgently, striding behind the man as he led the way to the woodshed. I didn't let go of Aidan's hand and I heard his stumbling steps as he followed us.
"I don't know," he said. "I went in and he was just lying there. He's dropped a load of wood all over the floor and he's lying on the ground. I came straight back here for help. After all, Doctor Aidan's closer than the hospital."
I glanced at Aidan, whose face had gone pale. His hand tightened on mine as he realised he'd have an emergency to deal with – the one thing he hated most.
I started humming under my breath, the song a soothing lullaby I'd wanted to sing to my daughter. The same song I sang when I drove my car with Miranda bleeding in the back. It helped to calm me, if nothing else.
Aidan's grip loosened and his strides lengthened so he walked beside me instead of following behind. Both my hands free, I automatically twined my hair into a knot on the back of my head. Practical once more.
We approached the open tin shed and stopped. The barman lifted his hand and pointed. "He's in there, lying on the floor." He didn't seem to want to go back in the shed at all.
I glanced at Aidan again, taking a step forward, but he got there first, ducking his head to go inside. I skittered inside behind him, moving out of the doorway so I wouldn't block the light.
I heard his breathing as soon as I stopped moving, so I knew Ben was alive, but he lay on the ground, his eyes open and unseeing. Aidan knelt beside him, checking for head and spinal injuries or some sign of why the man was paralysed.
I edged around the two men, searching the woodshed. Big chunks of timber were scattered on the floor, as if they'd been swept from the carefully stacked pile that took up more than half the shed. Movement caught my eye and I stepped closer to see better and make sure.
Water and Fire Page 7