by Kris Pearson
“Oh good,” she said. “And the furniture will be delivered to your house, not his.”
“Whose choice?” His brows drew together and a small furrow appeared between them. Why was he worried?
“Mine. Although I did point out to my mother that the driveway to the other one wasn’t finished yet.” She sent him what she hoped was a serene smile.
“Have you been meddling, Frosty?”
“Noooo….”
“Good, because I stand or fall on my own merits.”
She slapped him on the arm. “There’s that ‘cat-who-walks-by-himself’ thing again. You need to accept help when it’s offered willingly.”
“Says the woman who’s more self-contained than anyone I’ve ever met,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her.
She considered that for a moment. “I am quite private,” she agreed, nodding slowly. “It goes back to family stuff.”
He pulled the corners of his mouth down. “Probably my self-sufficient attitude as well. I wasn’t born into a caring, sharing kind of family like yours. In fact I often wished Trev and Cheryl had given me away at birth.”
Anna’s stomach cartwheeled, and the bitter burn of acid followed. If Jason could say that, so could her child - in a horrible reverse kind of way.
He reached over and ran his fingers down a long strand of his hair. “To someone who actually wanted me. God knows why they went ahead and had Cathy as well.”
She turned away so her hair slid out of his hand. She had to presume her baby had been wanted by whoever adopted it, but not knowing still ate her alive. She had no way of finding out. No way of assuring the now-teenager that he or she had not been given away from choice. Or if they even knew they had.
The subject had been so resolutely discouraged by her parents that the frightening pregnancy and unexpected wrenching away of Anna’s child might never have happened. But her brain and body knew. Knew and regretted, and hungered for some sort of completion.
She supposed her parents were caring. They’d no doubt decided it would disrupt her whole future, but she’d never quite convinced herself that they hadn’t seen it as besmirching the good name of the Wynn family as well.
“You turned out okay,” she said over her shoulder to him, hoping he couldn’t hear the anguish in her voice. “Go and sit.”
She brought their coffees out to the old plastic chairs, and they relaxed in the sun until a dishcloth flapped over the side fence, accompanied by Essie’s high-pitched voice from behind the palings. “Yoo-hoo. Yoo-hoo, Anna dear.”
Anna rolled her eyes at Jason, set her coffee down, and approached her diminutive neighbour.
“I’ve decided to go for broke,” Essie called. “That nice young builder fixed the step, but he thinks all the decking is a bit suspect, too, just like your boyfriend did. I’d like it all replaced.”
Anna jumped as Jason’s arm snaked around her.
He walked the fingers of his other hand up and down her spine. “Boyfriend?” he whispered, right in her ear before moving closer to the fence and peering down at Essie. “It might only be the top,” he said. “If the supports underneath are still sound, you could just get it re-planked.”
“No, I’ve decided to have a spa-pool, too, so I’d like the deck larger.”
“How about I come around and have a proper look,” he said, releasing Anna. “Easier than yelling over the fence.”
They deserted their coffees and went next door. Jason bent and inspected the lower timbers. “This should all be ground-treated. I think it looks fine. Why not get them to put your spa-pool out at the end and keep all your deck space?”
Essie squinted as she imagined the change.
“It’d be nice with an extra piece of wall as a windbreak, “Anna suggested. “And maybe a shade-sail?”
“What arrangements have you made with the supplier?” Jason asked. “For the base?”
“Well…” Essie said, twisting the dish-cloth around in her fingers. “I’ve left that to them.”
Jason pressed his lips together. Anna decided he was trying not to laugh.
“Did they make it clear you’d need some much closer supports?” he asked. “Set into concrete? Water weighs a hell of a lot. That’s a job for a builder, not a pool supplier. Who are you buying it from?”
“I’ll get the leaflet, shall I?” Essie said with obvious relief.
Anna elbowed him in the ribs. “I thought you were busy?”
“I’m my own boss,” he said burying his hands in his pockets and shooting her an amused glance. “I can do what I want, when I want.”
“But surely you don’t want this? Tearing old planks off and messing around with a spa-pool base?”
“Might be exactly what I need so I can keep an eye on you next door.”
Anna sent him a slitty-eyed glare and they both started to laugh just as Essie returned with her brochure open at the right page.
“This one, eh?” Jason said. “Now I’m picturing you in a bikini, up to your boobs in bubbles.”
“Dream on, dear,” she said, sidling closer. “I wear a one-piece.” She tucked her hand through his arm. “I’d be so grateful if you’d do the work for me. George says I should get three quotes, but I’d trust you as a friend of Anna’s not to take advantage of an old lady.”
“Essie - you’re a flirt!” Anna declared.
“I’d never take advantage of a lady,” Jason said with a theatrical leer. “Old or young. Although I’m constantly tempted to take advantage of her,” he added, reaching across and smoothing his fingers down the side of Anna’s face.
She flapped a hand at him. “Stop it.”
“Make me. The spy next door already knows our guilty secret.”
Essie chuckled. “I had you two matched up in no time,” she said in Anna’s direction. “I like this one better than the reporter chappie.”
Anna’s jaw dropped. “How did you know about him?” she demanded.
“He was here looking for you - a couple of months ago now. Came over and introduced himself. Gave me his card when he left.”
“Bastard,” Jason said. “He should have done that first.”
Essie nodded. “He was just a bit too nosy. Perfectly polite, mind you.”
“What did he want? He wasn’t asking about Dad, I hope?” Anna knew her voice sounded sharp, but she’d been on guard for fifteen years and it was a hard habit to break.
“He seemed to think you’d be here. I put him right on that. He was saying how tough it is being the child of a famous father.”
“So he was asking about Dad? Why can’t people mind their own damn business!”
Essie’s eyes twinkled. “I quite enjoyed leading him astray, dear. Told him plenty about your father’s fishing, and how you had proper kiwi Christmases here instead of going overseas. I could tell it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. His father’s a member of parliament. I remember that.”
Anna blew a rather rude raspberry. “An MP? Hardly. He wrote a very colourful spy novel years ago, then hurt his back diving into a river because he hit a submerged tree trunk. He’s been on some sort of pension ever since and never written much else.”
“Alan Hathaway the MP?”
“No - Othello Hathaway the novelist. And I doubt that’s his real name.”
Jason exploded with laughter. “Othello! Jesus.” He glanced down at Essie and boomed; “Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see. She has deceived her father, and may thee.”
“What?” Anna demanded.
“Othello. Famous speech. Didn’t you do Shakespeare at school?”
“Not with quite such enthusiasm.”
He shrugged and looked down at his boots. “I loved it. Loved drama, art, music, all that stuff.”
“Why are you building houses then?” Essie asked. “Mind you, you seem to be good at it. It’s been interesting watching that one go up. That’s why I’d like you to fix my deck.”
“So you didn’t tell Tim much?” Anna persisted. “T
he reporter?”
“What would I possibly know that I could tell him?” The expression on Essie’s face was all innocence. “No - he didn’t learn anything new from me.”
“Good on you,” Jason said, easing away from her arm. “Okay, I’ll get a quote together for your deck job if you keep quiet for now about Anna and me. Especially when her parents show up.”
“Thursday or Friday,” Anna added. “Uncle James had an operation on his shoulder today so I suppose that might make a difference.”
“They’ll only keep him one night,” Essie scoffed. “Then they’ll send him home with a sling. They don’t keep people in hospital long these days.”
Jason walked away. “Let me go and get a couple of things I need so I can measure up,” he called over his shoulder.
Anna watched him go, part of her mind on Essie’s scheme, part on Tim Hathaway’s unwelcome visit, and part on Jason’s unexpected admission that he loved drama, art and music. Well, she’d known about his guitar and his photography, but hearing him slide so easily into Shakespeare had certainly surprised her.
*
Deciding the base for the spa-pool took priority, Jason used it as a training exercise for Hoolie. He kept a careful eye on the boy’s calculations, pleased when he saw theory morphing into reality. Together they dug the foundation holes, cut the supports to size, and concreted them in. He set Hoolie to work ripping and wrenching all the weathered old planking and nails off the existing frame. “Leave a bit of a walkway to the door, eh? Just to keep them safe?”
Pleased to have a project, old George began sawing up lengths suitable for the wood-burner in the family room, or splitting them into kindling with a lethal little tomahawk.
“They’re an unlikely couple to get on so well together,” Jason said on Thursday evening as he lazed beside Anna on the sleeping platform beside the open window. Outside, the birdsong had faded to sleepy chirps. The warm breeze washed over them, salty with the scent of the sea.
He’d been dividing his time between keeping an eye on Hoolie, progressing the campground ablutions block with Manu and Billy, and consulting on a possible new project with Bill and Thelma Hughes. The long sensuous evenings he kept for Anna.
He stretched and yawned. “I’m whacked.”
“Too much sex,” she teased, smoothing her cheek along the cushion of his bicep.
“Nah - it’s all that’s keeping me going,” he objected sleepily. “You’re what makes the rest of the day worthwhile.”
She settled closer to him, sliding a knee up to his groin and nudging him gently there. “Not entirely whacked,” she said, raising her head a few seconds later as she felt the effect she was having on him. “You’re insatiable… As bad as Hoolie…”
Jason reached out and patted her hip. “But with much better taste…” He pushed up onto one elbow and drew his hand higher, watching as it stroked into the dip of her waist, over the smooth swell of her breast, and on to cup her face to his. “Never going to get enough of you,” he murmured between kisses.
Anna groaned. “Make the most of me tonight because they’re arriving tomorrow, and I think that’ll be the end of us for a while.”
“Not going to enjoy that.” He kissed her again, long and tenderly.
“But at least it’ll give you time to do something toward your exhibition.”
His gut clenched as he smiled down at her. Even one day without her would be too long. “Looking forward to playing with that hot ghost, but that’ll be my only consolation.”
Anna stroked his shoulder. “So what’s my consolation for making up all those beds tomorrow? Where’s my hot ghost?”
Jason’s tattooed thigh slid over hers as he rose fully above her, magically far from tired with the scent of her in his nostrils, the heat of her beckoning him in. “He’s no ghost, Frosty. He’s flesh and blood, and he’s coming to get you again right now.”
*
Her weekend ground by, filled with family chat, countless cups of tea, and grumbles from Uncle J about his shoulder. They all inspected the damage to the cottage, tut-tutting about the careless way it had happened, and pronouncing the makeshift repairs adequate for the next few weeks. They wandered from room to room in each of the new houses, comparing features and finishes. Anna kept alert for any adverse comments about Trev, was disappointed when very few eventuated, and judged it wise not to push the topic any further. She’d given it her best shot and didn’t want to be seen as too biased.
Missing Jason most unreasonably, she sent text after text, trying to keep a straight face at his replies.
‘Exhibition photos looking good?’
‘Ghost full size, full focus.’
‘No! Delete!’
‘No way in hell.’
‘Bad boy.’
‘You have no idea.’
‘Is ghost watching you?’
‘Every stroke of the way.’
‘Jason!’
No reply for a while. All she could do was imagine.
Him, big and hard. Unzipped. Seated in front of his computer. Staring hot-eyed at her on the screen as he brought himself off.
She crossed her legs, trying to stop her pussy muscles from clenching in distracting spasms. Then she uncrossed them, spread a big paper napkin over her lap before accepting one of her mother’s crumbly shortbread biscuits, and let the delicious sensation intensify as she squirmed on the chair. She was almost at the point of orgasm, but not quite, not quite…
‘Jason?’ she finally texted, hot and definitely bothered.
‘Sorry boss. Enjoyed that.’
‘Boss???’
‘You call the shots.’
‘Right now it’s all you. What am I supposed to do here?’
‘I could send you the pic you took of me?
‘Groan.’
‘Translation?’
‘You know I’d love to have it, but if someone sees it…?
‘You’d get spanked by Daddy?’
‘Don’t joke. Mum would be worse.’
‘Sending it now.’
‘NO!!!’
God - she could see him so clearly. Golden in the light of that one lamp. Abs taut like big ripples in wet sand. The tendons in his forearm tensing with every long swipe up and down his beautiful wet cock. And that glimpse of tattoo - just enough to identify him.
Ripples in the sand…
A run on the beach was exactly what she needed. With the chance to meet him somewhere further down the bay. Even a few minutes would be good.
Her thumbs flew over the keypad.
‘Be there in ten,’ he replied.
She rolled her paper napkin into a ball and stood. “I need some exercise. I’ll see you all later.”
“I’ll walk with you,” her mother said.
Anna closed her eyes. Annoyance squeezed the breath from her lungs in a big rush. Desperate for Jason’s touch, she said, “No, Mum. I need a run after all this sitting around. A good long run. Why not go with Ginny if you want a walk?” She stretched, trying to ease the tension thrumming inside her.
Her mother shrugged. Put on the face that said she was offended but considering forgiveness. Anna galloped down to the cottage to change.
*
In sneakers and shorts she jogged slowly along the waterfront. The waves heaved and splashed, and several surfers cut to and fro across the face of them, milking every possible moment of ride. An elderly couple walked a stiff and stately Golden Retriever, muzzle white with age. Gulls whirled above excited children building a driftwood bonfire on the sand. Everything she’d been used to seeing, year after year, but now all so much more vivid.
She loped along, breathing in the smell of the ocean until she was sure she couldn’t be seen from the deck of the new house. Then she eased down to a walk. Was it only a few days ago she’d been full-speed-ahead at everything? Running full tilt on the beach the day she arrived at Scarlet Bay? Racing flat out with Jason that first morning at his house? Somehow he’d persuaded her to tak
e life at a gentler pace and it felt good.
She sharpened her focus, watching for his van to appear. Couldn’t help smiling when she saw it, even though he was miles too far distant to see her face light up.
He did a U-turn in the empty road and braked beside her. She pulled the door open, bounced up onto the seat, leaned across, and aimed a kiss at his cheek. Missed, and got his nose instead.
“Whoa, Frosty.” He clamped a hand on her knee and steered onto the shoulder. “Not as private as I had in mind. Buckle up.”
She wriggled over to be right next to him and clicked the centre seat belt closed as he moved off. “Where are we going?’
“Home.” He ran his fingers up and down her thigh. “Can’t leave you feeling all frustrated when I’ve been having fun with my ghost.”
She laid her hand over his and linked their fingers as he accelerated again. “Was it really fun?”
“More fun once I had you in on the act.”
“From a long way away, though.”
His smile grew broader. “I lied about the ghost. I had you on the screen facing me. Watching me. A shot I may not have shown you.” He pressed his lips together, trying to suppress the smile, but his eyes were merry.
Anna drew a surprised breath. “When? When did you photograph me?”
“Music night. Just fooling around. You don’t have to raise a digital camera to look through the viewfinder. You never knew I’d done it.”
“So I had clothes on?” Looking highly relieved, she curled her free hand around his bicep. “Thank heavens for that.”
Jason flicked her a sideways glance. “A grey T-shirt. My love bites on your neck.” He gave her knee an affectionate squeeze. “Your hair in a ponytail, and looking about seventeen because you were relaxed and happy.”
“I’ll bet,” she scoffed. “Long time since I looked seventeen.”
“And very well fucked. It really showed.” He grinned across at her again. “Against the van on the beach. After I’d softened you up on the seat. In fact why don’t we do that again?”
Anna wriggled beside him, trying to ignore the surges of pleasure rushing through her. “Because I have shorts on this time. Not so easy.”
“Baby…” he said, twisting to drop a quick kiss on her hair. “I’ll have you out of them in no time.” He surveyed the beachfront and turned off onto a deserted stretch. “Just to even things up. Then we’ll be one-all and start equal again at the house.”