She refilled the coffee pot and walked to the fridge. She wasn’t really a breakfast person and as everyone at the rehabilitation centre was encouraged to make their own food she felt no compunction to offer to get anything for anyone else. She grabbed a natural yoghurt pot and moved along the cupboards to find a bowl. She reached into another cupboard and pulled at a tall plastic container. She tipped a generous portion of Patrick’s delicious home-made granola, covered it with his creamy home-made yoghurt and then sat at the table to eat with the others.
One of the other men groaned and curled his lip slightly as he glanced at her bowl in disgust.
“Gemma, you know how much you really like me? You wouldn’t want to see me fade away from hunger, I know you wouldn’t.” Gemma paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth as she waited for him to continue. “You don’t fancy cooking eggs and bacon for me, do you? I just don’t think I can stand making it today, but boy do I fancy a good fry up. That horrible, oaty, healthy stuff just isn’t doing it for me, gives me terrible indigestion.” He rubbed his wide chest and pulled a face pinched with lines of what looked like genuine pain.
Gemma ate her spoonful of breakfast and shook her head at him. All the guys were charming and brilliant fun and it was way too easy to give into their winning smiles, but she had learned fast. They could see right through her hard exterior and took advantage of her genuine good nature far too easily if she let them.
She nodded towards the tray of eggs that sat on the counter.
“You’ve already collected the eggs, Ben. Come on, it’s not difficult to grill some bacon and make a plate of scramble. I showed you last week what to do.”
Ben wrinkled his nose.
“I know, but standing in front the cooker for hours with this flipping leg of mine just makes it so much of a chore. I’m almost too exhausted to eat by the time I’ve cooked it and it doesn’t taste the same anyway. Look Gem, if you do it this once I will cook my breakfast from now on...promise.” The man gave a winsome smile and his companion, Karl, smiled too.
“If you’re going to make one portion you might as well make two. I love bacon and eggs. There’s some left over veg from last night too. We could have bubble and squeak as well. I bet Jason and Will wouldn’t mind a portion either. I can give them a buzz if you’re up for it. I’d hate for them to miss a full English.” Karl looked hopefully at her from across the table.
“Me too!” Joe piped up. “Can’t beat a good fry up to start the day.”
Gemma rolled her eyes and shook her head again.
“You lot are the worst. I swear you have all come here for a holiday.” She scowled at Joe. “We’re meant to be getting them ready for real life, idiot, not pandering to their dietary preferences, besides I would have thought that after all the time you’ve been here you would have gone all French and taken to continental breakfasts. It’s delicious and good for you. Patrick brought that spiced ham and all those cheeses over earlier in the week. You should try them sometime.” She took another mouthful of the granola and chewed hard.
Joe and the other two men looked positively aghast at her suggestion.
“You have to be joking. Ham and cheese go in a sandwich for lunch and that stuff,” Joe tilted his head scornfully towards Gemma’s bowl, “gets all in your teeth. Last thing I want to be doing is chewing horse food all day.”
Gemma was about to say that she would look out for a bag to fit over his nose when the door opened quietly behind her. She almost choked on her last bite of cereal as she immediately recognized the masculine scent of their new guest. The hairs on her arm lifted inside her shirt and she had to suppress a delicious shiver that ran down her spine.
His square jaw and bright aqua eyes had made a big impact on her the night before when she had checked him in and shown him his room, but she’d been tired then after waiting up for his delayed ferry to arrive. Now, with her whole body on full alert, she knew exactly who had entered the kitchen without even looking.
Joe stepped forwards quickly to meet the man.
“Hey, you’re up early. I’m Joe your activities co-ordinator with Gemma here. Want some coffee?”
The man limped towards the table and slumped down in a chair.
“I’d prefer tea if you have it, thanks. I’m Aaron. Pleased to meet you.” He gave a shallow nod to the other men at the table as they both gave their names before he looked carefully at Gemma. She had booked him in late the day previously, but he’d been quiet and hadn’t spoken much at all. “Hi again. Sorry about yesterday. I wasn’t at my best. Travelling got to me I suspect.”
Gemma raised an eyebrow, but smiled at him in welcome. She hadn’t thought him particularly bad tempered the day before, only slightly impatient. With the injuries some of the men had sustained it was hardly surprising that they weren’t all sweetness and light.
“No problem. Travelling is a pain, especially when you get held up like that. I expect you needed a night’s rest.”
She cast her eyes over the man. He was a big guy. Not as big as Patrick or Joe but taller than David and broader than Paul. His dark hair flopped forwards on his brow nearly covering his pale turquoise eyes. She narrowed her eyes at his angular jaw. It was unusually square. Made him devilishly handsome. She lowered her eyes again as she noticed the rapid pulse beating at the base of his throat and concentrated on her breakfast.
Joe placed a mug in front of Aaron. He picked it up and blew on the hot tea before he took a quick swallow.
Karl leaned forwards and stared at Aaron’s hand. The back of it was covered in deep red scars. What looked like multiple skin grafts covered his fingers. He wore a sort of glove that hooked around the base of two of his fingers and buttoned over his wrist. It clearly protected his injured palm.
“That looks recent. Healing up okay?” He directed his chin towards Aaron’s hand.
Gemma noticed ripples appear on the surface of the man’s tea as his hand shook minutely. She’d seen the injury the evening before but hadn’t bothered to mention it. They never mentioned specific injuries. If one of the men wanted to talk about his experience that was fine, they would all listen, but if he preferred to keep quiet then no one asked.
Aaron trembled as he gripped his mug. He was desperate to keep his hand steady, but it wasn’t working. Anger coursed through his body. He took another quick slurp of the scalding tea before he put the mug back on the table and stood up.
“Another time fellas. I’m going out for a walk.”
Joe narrowed his eyes as the man limped back out of the room. There was some sort of cast on his lower leg. It looked bulky beneath his trousers and he obviously couldn’t wear his normal shoe over it. Joe turned to Gemma and gave a slight tilt of his head. Aaron had clearly been upset by Karl’s observation even though there had been no direct question. All injuries were different. Just because Aaron’s hadn’t looked particularly life threatening didn’t mean that he hadn’t been through an awful experience to acquire it. Gemma understood Joe’s silent command immediately. She finished the last mouthful of granola and smiled at the men at the table.
“See you for sailing lessons in an hour, boys. I’m just going to see if I can persuade Aaron to join us too. Meet me by the jetty and bring some of the fishing gear for all of us. If we’re lucky we might see if we can catch our dinner.”
Ben raised an eyebrow.
“No fair! We didn’t want to share you with anyone else Gem. You know, ‘two’s company, three’s a crowd’ and we want to be the only company you keep.” He winked wickedly as she walked around the table. The good-natured ribaldry of servicemen was something she’d become used to over the years. It didn’t offend her. When she felt like it, she could give as good back any day of the week.
“You wish you two could take me on by yourselves. See you on the jetty later and make sure you are wearing your life jackets ‘cos if you two try anything on you’re going to need them.”
The howls of laughter followed her along the corridor as sh
e left the room. She stood quietly for a moment inside the entrance and listened for Aaron’s distinctive, lopsided footsteps. Nothing inside the château. She detected a faint crunch on the gravel outside and she headed for the big doors.
Aaron had made it only a few meters along the driveway. His shoulders were slumped as he trudged along and for a moment Gemma wasn’t sure that following him was the right thing to do. Some people just needed to work things through without any interruptions.
She sighed as she remembered Joe’s tilted head. His face was a mask of scars, worse than any she had ever seen, but Joe was a gentle, expressive guy. He could say a lot without even opening his mouth. She jogged after Aaron and quickly caught up.
“Hey! Aaron, want some company while you walk?” She asked as she drew abreast of him.
Aaron stopped quickly and turned to face her.
“Not particularly. I don’t even want to be here. I didn’t agree to come and I don’t want to be treated like I’m some kind of invalid. I don’t need rehab. I need to fly again. If they’d let me get back in my helicopter I would be fine. They just don’t trust me.” It was obvious that there was a lot of pent up aggression running through the man.
Gemma stared up at him. She tried to keep calm, but it wasn’t easy. Since losing her arm, she could understand anyone’s trust issues. She didn’t really trust pilots either, but she kept a firm grip on her own thoughts.
“Pilot eh?”
She stated the obvious, but he gave a quick nod of agreement.
“Helicopters mostly, but I can fly anything with a cockpit. They put me on a frigging boat to come here. Took six hours crossing and then they couldn’t get the ramp down in the port so we were held up for another four hours. Boring as shit and a bloody waste of time! I could have flown myself here in forty-five minutes and landed in the flipping garden instead of taking taxis and ferries and a minibus. Stupid and so flipping slow!”
Gemma gave a quick but bitter laugh. He was a typical flight jockey. Always in a rush, always taking risks. Even after all her years service since her own near fatal experience, when she had no choice but to travel by plane or helicopter, she detested flying. She hated the attitude expressed by some of the pilots. They thought they were the Gods of the sky, but she didn’t trust any of them and, after what had happened to her, she never would.
“I take it that you won’t want to get back into a boat for a gentle sail again this morning then. Looks like the boys won’t be sharing me after all.” She smiled as she shrugged.
Aaron stared down at her silently as he tried to assess what she actually meant. The intense gleam of his eyes took in everything as he looked over her and she felt heat rise unbidden into her cheeks. She damped it down as he spoke.
“Sharing you?” His tone was a mix of amazement and quizzical enquiry and Gemma felt her cheeks begin to flush even more at how he had taken her words. Blushing was a most unusual occurrence for her. She had thought she would never be able to blush again after everything the army guys had thrown at her. The repartee had been a constant thing in her life. There was no time to become embarrassed or self-conscious when with her regiment, but this man made her feel tongue-tied.
“I mean sailing...You know, in the same boat together. They were just mucking about, giving me some banter, you know, all the usual crap you boys give us girls.” She stopped blathering as his eyebrows came together in a dark line and carried on quickly. “There’s plenty of room for one more. It’s equipped for six.” She felt her cheeks now turn crimson. “I said I was going to try and persuade you to come along with us, but I guess that you won’t want to if you find it dull.”
Aaron took a couple of breaths, his face clearing of its strange expression. He smiled and Gemma felt as though she had been punched in the stomach. She hadn’t noticed that the morning had become lighter. The sun was up and the air felt thick around her as she dragged in her breaths. For a moment, the earth stilled.
His smile was gorgeous. His arched lips parted in a million megawatt, even, white smile. Either he’d had a fabulous gene pool or some very expensive dentistry. Looking at his perfectly square jaw line, high cheek-bones and straight nose she guessed on the gene pool. His lips moved again, this time to speak and she forced her brain to work again as she listened.
“Sailing’s different, not like sitting there with a bunch of holiday makers enjoying a mini cruise. You can test yourself against the weather and the waves...but you’re right, I don’t fancy it right now. Maybe another day. I think I’ll just spend today getting settled in...Do you and Joe own this place?” He gave a quick glance up at the majestic château behind them. The early morning sunshine glinted off the windows and slate tiles.
Gemma stopped staring at his handsome face and shook her head quickly as she turned back to the château.
“I wish I was that lucky, but no, I just help out with the activities alongside Joe. He’s normally up at David and Ellen’s other château. That one’s more of a hotel than this and was renovated a few years back. The guys don’t need help, just a break. Ellen and her brother David run it all for free for service men and women. It’s paid for it by donations and by putting on corporate events. Team building and conferencing for big companies. Ellen and her husband Patrick don’t have any corporate events scheduled for this week so Joe’s down here with me. He lives in the grounds of the other château with his wife, Lucy and their little girl, Anna. David, his wife Geraldine and their three children live there too, but in the penthouse apartment. Paul and Amy run this place, but they were out yesterday looking at some equipment for the new outdoor pool which is why you met me at reception. You’ll meet them both later, along with the other staff. There’s plenty of help here if you need it, or even if you don’t,” she added as she looked him up and down. Apart from the distinct limp and the injured hand there didn’t look to be much wrong with him, but you could never tell. Sometimes the deepest, most painful scars were on the inside. “You said they won’t let you fly. Did you fail basic fitness? We can help with that and can even send reports in if we think that they will do any good.”
Aaron snorted loudly, his smile wiped from his face as quickly as it appeared.
“It’s not that. I’m as fit as a fiddle. I’m fine. These are just temporary things. Ankle broke in a bad landing. It’s been pinned while it heals and I have to wear this plastic brace when I’m walking, but that’ll soon go.” He lifted his foot and Gemma saw the shine of black plastic as his trouser leg wafted in the breeze. He put his foot down and pulled back the cuff on his sleeve. “Tore all the skin from my hand as it went through the window so I’ve had some skin grafts. I might need a few more before I’m done if this new treatment doesn’t work, but it shouldn’t be too long now before I know one way or another.” He didn’t show her what lay beneath the palm glove but she could imagine that it wasn’t pretty.
“Sounds like it was a very bad landing. Were you piloting?” She wished she hadn’t asked as soon as the words were out of her mouth. A dark cloud descended over his features and she wondered if she shouldn’t make a run for it while she was still alive.
For a moment she thought she could hear a deep growl rising from his chest, but it came out as quiet, angry words.
“I don’t do bad landings. We were taken down by a bloody missile,” he hissed through his perfect white teeth as he took a step closer to her.
Gemma took a small step back. She’d obviously pricked his pride right where it hurt most.
“Of course, I wasn’t suggesting anything. I was in a helicopter crash once myself. That wasn’t a good landing either.” She spoke hurriedly and held up her prosthetic hand, trying to placate him.
It worked. His brows came together in curiosity as he continued to look at her.
“Really? When? There haven’t been that many. They are a pretty safe form of transport all things considered.” His tone was back to normal.
Gemma shrugged.
“It was years ago. I’d onl
y been in two years and was on my second deployment to Afghanistan. I was lucky though. Everyone else on the trip died. I only escaped because I was caught in some webbing. Well, most of me escaped. Rotor blade broke off and turned the rest of the passengers into...well I’m sure I don’t need to describe what happened. Losing my arm was a small price to pay considering, though I confess that I’ve avoided the things as much as possible since.”
Aaron snorted as though he found her fears ridiculous.
“Couldn’t keep me out of one. They just don’t trust me is all and if they don’t trust me, neither does anyone else. Means I’m effectively grounded for the foreseeable future unless they can sort it all out in my favour, but I can’t see that happening anytime soon. They’ve shoved me here to keep me out of the way for a few weeks. I bet they’re worried I’ll kick up a fuss.” His bitter tone left her in no doubt of how he felt.
Gemma tilted her head as Aaron looked down the driveway His wide shoulders sagged again. Something more was going on here. She could feel it. It didn’t sound as though Aaron was lying about anything, but there was some information missing. She tried coming at him from a different angle.
“Fuss? About what? Come on, Aaron. You know what happens whenever there’s some kind of accident. Regardless of what happened there’s always an investigation. You’ll have to pass a physical and mental health check before you go back to work, if that’s what you want to do. There’s no way around either of them so you might as well let us help if we can. The government takes our work and evaluations very seriously so you shouldn’t disregard what we do here. Of course, if we can’t get you through the physical we can always try for a desk job. There’s plenty of them going.”
Aaron turned back to the driveway and took another few steps before he stopped again. He turned back and glared down, turquoise eyes glinting at Gemma.
“Desk job! Jeez, you have to be kidding me. Ever since I was a kid I wanted to fly. Made my dad take me to all those daft action movies just to see the flight scene. All my life I worked towards it. I lived and breathed it. I passed my first pilot’s licence before I could drive a car. I took the helicopter test when I was seventeen and then signed up as soon as I could. I’ve been a pilot ever since. A damned good one too, but now they want to sling me out.” His tone was more hurt than bitter now. Something in his throat trembled and Gemma looked away from him quickly.
Scarred Survival (Scarred Series Book 5) Page 2