Exposed: An Anthology

by Brooke Cumberland

  “What the fuck?” My eyes snap open and I wipe the water droplets from my face. I must have fallen asleep. My eyes focus and I spot Jackson standing over me blocking out the sun. His eyes are twinkling and he’s got his fully-fledged, bright white, straight-toothed smile directed right on me. I feel my nipples pucker and my belly clench. Traitorous body. I can feel the sexual tension radiating between us but I refuse to acknowledge it. Jackson is exactly the type of guy I don’t need. That’s the funny thing about life – you always want what you can’t have. I’m not sure why this is but it sucks! Have you ever heard the saying “curiosity killed the cat?” Well, one look at Jackson and I know I’m going to get dead. Burned. I can’t help but imagine if those lips feel as soft and plump as they look. I wonder what it would be like to run my hands up and down his body. If his ass is as firm and rounded as his jeans lead you to believe.

  GAH!!

  This has got to fucking stop.

  “So, you never got around to tellin’ me your name last night, darlin’.” His voice is a mixture of rough and smooth with a hint of country twang and drawl. Even his voice is sexy. I want to strangle the powers that be that led me here. No, actually, I just want to strangle Jackson.

  “You don’t need to know my name. The only name you need to know is that of your girlfriend. You don’t need to know anything about me, so run along,” I flick my wrist in the direction of the dirt road.

  “Wrong, darlin’. I wanna know everything about you. And I’m a man who sees what he wants and goes after it. Never wanted somethin’ and not got it – so you can mark my words when I say that by the end of this I’m gonna know your name, and everything else there is to know about you. Be seeing ya, darlin’.” He leans down and glides his thumb down my cheek before standing and walking over to a white Ute. I close my eyes and try to ignore the heat and tingly feeling that is occupying my cheek where he touched me.

  So you can mark my words when I say that by the end of this I’m gonna know your name, and everything else there is to know about you.

  Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck! I need a plan. A course of action. A modus operandi. Actually, I don’t know what that last bit means but it sounds the part.

  Never wanted somethin’ and not got. Ha! Of course he’s never wanted something and not got it. He’s the male version of a slut – what do people call them these days? Jiggalo’s? Man-whore’s? Yeah, that’s what he is – a man-whore. I kind of feel a little bit sorry for his girlfriend, but I also kind of feel like she should get some balls and stand up to him, tell him to man up or fuck off.

  On that note I decided that I was going to “man up.” Actually, what I meant was I was going to ignore Jackson who-ever-he-was until he got the hint that I didn’t want one iota of him. Chances are I wouldn’t be seeing him again until the following weekend. That’s what most people did, right? You have one or two nights a week out and then if you feel like a drink any other time, well, you have it at home. This meant that the possibility of me seeing Jackson who-ever-he-was for at least the next five days was slim to none. While I was focusing on ignoring him, I was also going to ignore the pang of disappointment that I felt when I thought I wouldn’t be seeing him again all week. Instead, I thought about going for a swim. Then I thought about crocodiles and the likelihood of them being in this waterhole. Then I thought about the people who were already in the hole swimming and how all of them were alive and not one of them seemed to be worried because their friend had just been dragged under in a death roll by a ten foot monster. I thought then, that it was probably pretty safe for me to swim.

  I stood and shimmied out of cutoff jeans shorts and pulled my singlet top over my head. I placed them both in a pile on my towel and picked my bikini bottoms out of my ass. Then I walked over to the edge of the water, far away from the other swimmers so as I wasn’t intruding on their day but close enough so that if in the unlikely event I was wrestled in the water by a ten foot croc, they’d see it and could either help me out or raise the alarm. With that in mind I tentatively dipped a toe in the water. Warm. With the water being the perfect temperature, there was no need to ease myself, so I dived right in. I was treading water and taking in my surroundings, enjoying the beauty of it, and even though the other people were making noise and splashing about, I was still savoring the tranquility and peace that shrouded me when I was suddenly gripped on my ankle and dragged under water. My shriek was muffled because as it was coming out of my mouth, my mouth was going under water. I lashed out; kicking at what I was certain was a croc. I connected a few solid whacks before it released me and I shot towards the surface and started swimming in the opposite direction as fast I could at the same time I started yelling incoherent words. “Calm ya farm, Ace,” I heard laughed from behind me as two solid arms wrapped around my waist.

  Petrified beyond belief I kept making the freestyle motion even though I wasn’t moving.

  “Croc,” I wheezed in a panic. “Jackson, there’s a croc.”

  “Rawr,” he growled and I halted my movement, “I’m the only beast in here you have to worry about.” He grins cheekily as realization dawns.

  “You fucking prick,” I hiss and slap him hard across the top of his arm. “Let me go. You’re a jerk. Do you have any idea how fucking scared I was? Let.Me.Fucking.Go.Now!” I struggle hard, twisting and turning in his arms but he doesn’t budge. Not even a little.

  “Calm down, Ace. I’d never let anything happen to you. The only thing you’ve got to worry about from now on is thinking up a shed load of bullshit excuses that you can call upon to protect yourself from me. I’m your biggest threat baby and from the way I see you react every time I’m near, well, that shows me I’m the scariest thing that’s been in your life in a long time, if ever. So that’s alright, I’ll take it slow, wear you down, prove to you I’m not who you’ve convinced yourself I am because I know, and you should too, that the end result is gonna be so far past worth it, Ace, it’s gonna be outta this world.”

  I was frozen solid from his words and therefore didn’t have a chance to do anything, like say, move (which I told myself is exactly what I would have done had he not just stupefied me with his speech) before his lips brushed against me. Soft, full, plump. I felt his bristle rub on my chin and the kiss was over. A teaser. An advertisement. Quick, tender and a clear promise of what was to come.

  Before I could blink, he released me and swam away. I treaded water for a few seconds longer and then high-tailed it from the water with a thumping heart (this I told myself was from the fact I was still worried about the “croc”. In reality, that was probably only five percent of the reason for the thudding – the other ninety five percent was due to a larrikin, sexy cowboy who had brushed his lips over mine). I was choosing to ignore the way his lips felt on mine and how much I liked how it felt. I was also going to ignore the burning sensation that I was feeling in the places that his body had touched mine – which was practically everywhere, and I was also going to ignore the slickness I felt between my legs – this I was going to blame on the fact that I was in the water. It had absolutely nothing to do with one Jackson whatever-his-last-name-is.

  I arrive back in town with enough time to shower and change into my work clothes – the same outfit I had on last night except my shirt is green check with pearly green snap buttons. I race down to the Coffee House to grab myself a coffee and a pie before I’m due to start my shift. Ava is on again and we make plans to catch up for a drink in a few weeks when Jules comes to town. I love this place!

  Chapter Three

  “Seriously? Don’t you have a farm to run? A field to plow? Cows to herd up or whatever it is you do to them?”

  It is Friday lunchtime. I’m at the pub doing a day shift and I’m due to finish in three quarters of an hour so I can drive to Darwin to pick Jules up from the airport. Jackson Henley (I found out his last name by eavesdropping on one of Doreen and Skip’s conversations) is sitting at the bar again. He’s been a permanent fixture during the lunch hour
every day since the day at Buchaneer’s Waterhole. He’s also been a permanent fixture at the bar every night since then. He comes in, orders a feed and a drink, annoys the hell out of me and then leaves … only to recommence when the sun goes down.

  Usually our conversations go something like this:

  “Hey Darlin’, you gonna tell me your name yet?”

  “I’m sure you already know my name, Jackson.”

  “Maybe I do, but I still want you to tell me.”

  “Don’t hold your breath.”

  “C’mon Ace, don’t be like that.”

  “Don’t you have a home to go to?”

  “Man’s gotta eat, Ace,” he replies then stuffs a handful of hot chips in his mouth.

  “Does a man gotta eat here every day and night?” I retort sarcastically.

  “Like the food. Like the view. Although the company can get a bit testy at times, I like it too,” he says giving me a wink and a sexy but cheeky grin. I want to hit him over the head with a skillet. I want to scream. I want to sink my nails into his throat. No, I want to sink my nails into his back and I want to wrap my legs around his waist and scream while he pistons in and out of me. Snap the fuck out of it, Eden. For shit sake.

  “Testy?” I snap, “Maybe I’m testy,” I say testy in a mock manly voice, “Because you’re annoying!”

  “Maybe you think I’m annoying because you like me,” he counters.

  I see Skip walk in and smile brightly at him. Saved by Skip. “Hi, Skip,” I say extra cheerily.

  “Edie, Jack,” he gives both of us nod.

  “How’ve you been? Usual?” I ask.

  “Good thanks, love. Yep, same as always.” It doesn’t matter the time of day or night – Skip flits in and out three or four times during opening hours and each time he buys a beer or two. I don’t know why he just doesn’t buy himself a carton and drink at home.

  “How’s the town treating you, Edie? You settlin’ in alright?”

  “Yeah, I love it here. I’m heading to Darwin soon to pick up my best friend, Jules. She’s coming to stay for a few days so you’ll get to meet her.”

  “Sounds good,” he replies then he takes a hearty swig of his Four X.

  “How’d you get the name ‘Skip’, Skip?” I’m curious because I know it can’t be his real name, unless his parents were very unique when choosing their children’s monikers.

  “Real name is Barry. Got the name Skip ‘cause they reckoned I skipped in and out of the pub all day long – never staying for long, just skipping in and skipping out,” he explains.

  “I can see that,” I smile at him. I love how almost everyone in the country has nicknames for each other. It gives a very fond and friendly feel to the place. In the city, it’s not so much like that. Jules’ name is Julia but everyone calls her Jules. My name is Eden and my friends call me Edie, but in the country, it’s not like that. Nicknames are bestowed upon you because of character traits or loveable qualities. It’s not just a shortening of your name, it’s … more.

  “Won’t be long and we’ll have to come up with a nickname for you,” Skip grins, “Won’t that be fun?” He turns his grin to Jackson.

  “Oh, Jackson already has a nickname for me – he calls me Ace,” I tell Skip.

  “Only I call you Ace, Ace,” Jackson growls.

  Skip grins again. Bigger this time.

  I’m sure the look on my face is confused, because that’s sure as hell what I’m feeling.

  “That doesn’t make sense, Jackson. If Ace is my nickname, then everyone can call me that. I don’t remember seeing a memo that said only you could call me Ace,” I snapped.

  “Only I call you Ace. You wanna see heads rollin’ then go ahead and tell others to call you Ace, but I’m warning you now, by the end of it, I’ll be the only one calling you Ace,” he growled again.

  Wow.

  That was incredibly sweet but I wasn’t going to focus on that. I didn’t want sweet from Jackson. I didn’t want him to have a special name for me. I didn’t want anything from him.

  I cocked my eyebrow at him, aiming for a nonchalant, unimpressed look. “You’re weird.” I turned my attention to Skip, gave him a smile and said, “I’m off, catch you later, Skip.”

  “See ya, Edie.”

  “Catch ya, Ace.”

  I didn’t reply or even look at that man. God he was so infuriating. And annoying. And goddamn irritating.

  ***

  “Edie, Edie,” Jules screeched at me as she spotted me in the airport. She was waving frantically and had a huge grin on her face. My grin matched hers and I ran towards her, wrapping my arms around her for a tight hug.

  “I missed you so much,” I said trying not to cry. It had been the longest time in our friendship that we had been apart.

  “I missed you, too,” I could hear the emotion in her voice.

  “How are you? How was the flight?” I asked, pulling back to take a good look at my best friend. Her black hair is now about five centimeters long all over now (she had it shaved almost bald to raise money for cancer just before she went to Bali), her vibrant green eyes are sparkling with their flecks of gold like usual and she’s dressed to kill, working her model-like figure like only she knows how.

  “I’m good and the flight was good but I’ll tell you now I am pissed right the fuck off and we need to talk. I’ll fill you in later but you should know now that I am damn near about to rip some heads off people we know.”

  “Oh, okay. Well that sounds … ominous.”

  “Ominous is not the word, my friend. Now let’s get out of this place so you can show me the town that’s stealing you away from me.”

  ***

  “So this is the place, hey? I can see why you like it here. It just has that feel about it, doesn’t it.” Jules and I were sitting on the small verandah outside my cottage, beers in hand, catching up.

  “I don’t like it here, I love it. I don’t know what it is, but it’s just captured me.”

  “Have you told Dawn you’re not coming back?”

  My boss Dawn had been completely accommodating when I told her I was taking leave for an undetermined amount of time on short notice. I felt bad when I rang her to let her know I wouldn’t be returning but she had been understanding once again, although she said she was sad to see me go.

  “Yeah, I rang her on Monday. Her daughter can fill my position so it hasn’t put her out much at all – she was already filling in, in my absence so it made sense just to put her on a permanent position. She’s emailing me a reference next week.”

  “I’m glad you got that sorted. Now, have I got some news for you. You know how I said I was meeting up with the girls for coffee?” Yes, I did remember her telling me that, she was going to pump them for information on why my so called “friends” hadn’t contacted me since I’d been gone. I nodded.

  “Well, I met up with them alright and suffice to say, they are no longer our friends,” Jules scowls.

  “What? Why? What’s happened?” I gasp.

  “They fucking knew. The whole lot of them. They knew.”

  “They knew what, Jules? You’re not making much sense,” I ask, confused.

  “They knew that Matt was cheating. Matt,” she says his name in disgust, “has been with that woman for years – as in years longer than you’ve been with him. She works out of town so he only sees her when she’s home, or on occasion when he goes to wherever she is working. I fucking knew there was something about that slime ball. I just knew it. I’m so sorry, Edie. When I asked the girls the other day why they hadn’t contacted you … well, it all came out about how they knew Matt had a girlfriend – she’s actually a mutual friend of our friends, and they said they had no idea how to tell either of you so they decided to just let it run its course and hope that eventually one of you would find out and end it with him. They confirmed they hoped it would be you because they all want him to be with her. That’s why they haven’t contacted you – because they didn’t really give a f
uck about you, or me, in the first place. I told them what I thought of the lot of them, and let’s be honest here, we were only really coffee buds with them anyways. We never caught up outside of our coffee meets so it’s not really a lot for us to lose. Are you okay?”

  Am I okay? I’m not really sure. I don’t know what to think or feel. I’m in shock I think. I can’t believe the girls I thought were my friends actually knew something like that and didn’t care to share.

  “Um, I guess I’m okay. I don’t really know. You’re right – they were only coffee buds and it’s not a great loss, but it bugs me that they knew that and didn’t tell me. I cannot believe Matt had another woman all along. Oh my god! I’m the other woman!” I shriek the last part. “Oh my god, I feel awful. All this time I’ve been the other woman. He never cheated on me with her like I thought, because the entire time he’s been cheating on her with me. This is a fucking disaster, Jules. A great big goddamn clusterfuck.”

  “Honey, you just need to admit to yourself what your relationship with Matt really was.”

  “Oh, and what’s that?”

  “A brain fart,” she states, trying to keep a straight face.

  We both burst into laughter. Yep, it was most definitely a brain fart.

  We spend the rest of the afternoon catching up and gossiping like old times. I’ve really missed Jules.

  ***

  “Ready?” I ask.

  “Yep, let’s go,” Jules replies. She looks stunning, as usual. She’s wearing black skinny leg jeans and a tight electric blue top. She’s got brand new cowgirl boots on her feet which don’t look brand new anymore because she convinced me to help her make them look worn this afternoon. We spent about an hour scraping them on the concrete to scuff them and rough them up. Her reasoning was that one would look ridiculous wearing boots that looked new (even if they actually were) when you were going out in a cowboy town. I couldn’t disagree with her so we commenced the boot scuffing operation.