The Aisle and Skye (The Skye Series Book 2)

by Fox Brison

  “Why?” she said bluntly.

  “Because.” I stopped and thought about it for a minute. What was the problem? We wanted it small and intimate. No massive planning involved. And I can’t imagine loads of people want to marry at this time of the year, and certainly not on the beach… ah yes, reason number one why we shouldn’t be having our wedding in the middle of winter. “We thought about having it on the beach. The weather isn’t exactly clement this time of the year.” A strange feeling washed over me. Part of me was relieved, but another astonishingly bigger part was hugely disappointed.

  “Why not have it at the castle? They do loads of ceremonies there now,” Sara pointed out, far too knowingly (and smugly) for my liking.

  Lindisfarne Castle. It was built on a crag overlooking the island and kind of reluctantly dominated the landscape. I always felt it was embarrassed to be there, possibly because along the North East coast there was a saturation of authoritative castles bossing the skyline. I hadn’t considered that venue, mainly because, well, I hadn’t considered any venues other than the beach, Nat’s initial suggestion. I’d worked at Lindisfarne Castle many moons ago, mainly to pad out my university application. And you know, history freak. I had a soft spot for the place. The original structure was built using stones from the dissolved Priory, possibly one of the earliest examples of recyclers or upcyclers; we northerners were nothing but practical.

  Lindisfarne was invaded, attacked and generally ransacked more times than I’ve eaten hot dinners and it made me wonder why. Was it greed? Power? Or were the besiegers of our past simply precursors to the thugs and looters who riot in the modern day? Were they the football hooligans of the seventeen hundreds?

  “That could work,” I eventually said. “But where would we hold the reception-”

  “At Mam’s. We could hire a marquee. They come heated now. Her garden’s more than big enough and as you said, it’s going to be an intimate affair.”

  “You may have missed your true calling… Sara McCoist, wedding planner extraordinaire!”

  “Just call me J-Lo!” She polished her nails on her top.

  “I was thinking more Frank,” she frowned at my obscure reference. “You know, Martin Short from Father of the Bride. Fraaank,” I elongated the middle of his name and she chuckled.

  “Cheeky cow,” she said, still laughing. “So what do you think about the castle?”

  “I don’t know, Sara, I’ve been putting the wedding on the back burner until after the mammogram. And what about Nat? She might rather wait.”

  “Nat? Wait?” she said incredulously, “Do you know your fiancée? She’d do it tomorrow if she could.”

  I watched Julia Roberts guffawing on the television. Runaway Bride. Maybe not the best film to coerce me with; subliminal messaging it was not. Sara clocked it too and opened her eyes so wide I thought her eyeballs were going to pop out. She grabbed for the remote but I stopped her. “You know what? What the hell, life’s too short. Let’s do this!” I exclaimed it so loudly it shocked both of us. The thought of returning to the states as Nat’s wife filled me with such euphoria, I wondered if Sara had slipped something into my drink!

  ***

  “So, are you fit?” Sara poured her second cup of coffee of the morning. I hated her sometimes. She was like a wine ninja, wielding the corkscrew like nun chucks, a deadly, and silent, topper upper of wine glasses. And the day after? I was an extra from World War Z and she was as fresh as a daisy.

  “As fit as I’ll ever be,” I replied. “Why?”

  “I thought we might take a wander up to the castle. It’s the perfect morning for a stroll.” She looked over the rim of her mug at me.

  I looked outside into the mist. Perfect? In who’s world?

  “I phoned Dotty and told her we’d be up in an hour, so come on, chop chop,” she said with a grin.

  “And that wasn’t presumptuous of you! How did you know I’d agree?”

  “Oh hmm I don’t know, Skye... a wedding in a castle… you being a history buff. The odds were slightly in my favour. Now get your coat on.”

  I wanted to refuse to teach her a lesson, but if Natalie and I were to be married there it made sense to check it out. Also it would be nice to surprise Nat when she returned home from her away game. I sensed my reticence was starting weigh her down and deciding on a venue, and at the same time probably a date, would prove I wanted this wedding as much as she did.

  I think, like Chicken Little, she was waiting for the ‘Skye’ to fall in, and I wanted to prove that that wasn’t going to happen.

  The castle was cloaked in a fog that indolently rolled in from the sea before dawn. It was eerie. The long road heading towards it was bordered on one side by an incredibly calm sea, and on the other by empty fields broken up by stone walls. The closer we got, the more defined the building became. The grass at the bottom of the crag stopped half way up, an invisible line that separated the cold, bare rock, from the living carpet of fine green. Atop, thick stone melded into the bedrock, and a couple of towers completed the image of the ancient warden of Lindisfarne.

  Walking up the sharp rise, my breath emerged in little steam puffs; I was like Toby from Thomas the Tank Engine struggling up a steep hill. I’d been slack with my exercise regime recently and it was beginning to show. Mind, I’ll have plenty of time to get fit before the wedding. I looked back and saw the whole Island before me, surrounded by the grey waters of the North Sea. In the far distance was the shore, I couldn’t see it, but it was there.

  Again, the curious mirroring of my life.

  The clinging mists were slowly evaporating as the weak winter sun struggled to fight its way through the clouds. Dark shapes, hidden rocks and islands in the leaden vapour, began to take on recognisable forms. Houses, boats, even a bus full of tourists. It was like I was alone on top of the world.

  “Oh, Sara,” I said quietly once I regained some of my composure – and breath. “This would be incredible, wouldn’t it?”

  “It would. C’mon, Dotty said she’d give us the guided tour.”

  Inside, the castle was far nicer than I remembered, due to the refurbishment that had taken place over the last few years. In this day and age, actually in any day and age, people wanted what they considered the authentic look and Lindisfarne Castle provided that ambience in spades. My only regret was that we couldn’t have the reception here, but hey, beggars can’t be choosers. The alternative was Hobthrush, the little islet on which Cuthbert spent years living as a hermit, but having a wedding, no matter how small, on an even smaller island in the middle of the North Sea during winter?

  Not going to happen.

  I trailed my hands along the thick walls of the castle, the roughly hewn stone was cold under my fingers, yet strangely also held a touch of warmth, although that could have been because of the reason behind my visit.

  “So?” Dotty and Sara waited expectantly.

  “I… I’ll need to talk to Nat, of course, but… well I honestly can’t imagine getting married anywhere else.”

  “Good enough, Skye. It just so happens we had a cancellation for February tenth this morning; I’ll pencil ye and Nat in.” Dotty looked as happy as Sara. It was clearly a conspiracy and I was keen to unearth exactly how deep it ran. And yes I was addicted to the X-Files. Dana Scully and handcuffs.

  Need I say more?

  Chapter 40

  Skye

  Natalie arrived back from Sunderland the following day. It was the first time we had been apart since my admission, and even though she didn’t want to go, I insisted; she’d worked too hard to get back into England contention to throw it all away. I hardly slept a wink without the safety of her arms around me, but life had to go on irrespective of what the test results revealed.

  Still I was mighty glad she was home.

  Wearing a beaming smile that could light the darkest of my days, she threw her kit bag down on the tiles inside the front door and joined me on the sofa where I was reading Pride & Prejudice, my
favourite classic which I dusted off every so often. She kissed me lingeringly. My motor was purring like a Rolls Royce Phantom. “You. Are. Beautiful.” She punctuated each word with another kiss and my heart skipped a beat. Nat possessed this amazing knack of saying exactly what I needed to hear at exactly the moment I needed to hear it, without any prompting.

  “If I’ve said it once I’ve said it a million times, you’re a soppy sod sometimes, Jeffries.” I ran my thumb over her bottom lip.

  “Only when it comes to you,” she kissed me again. “How was Sara yesterday? I’m guessing she had a skin-full last night judging from the texts I received.”

  “She had a few, although I don’t blame her. The first weeks back at school after the Christmas break are horrendous.” Natalie took off her training top revealing a glimpse of her toned stomach. Yeah, that wasn’t a distraction. “The kids are all hyper from presents and sugar.”

  “Hmm, I can see how that would be a nightmare. We only had five of the little buggers, God only knows what it would be like with twenty of them. So you just chilled then?” The gleam in her eyes told me it wouldn’t be five minutes until I was a pile of post-orgasmic jelly.

  Focus, Skye. “Pretty much, although she made a good suggestion...” Natalie divested me of my book and glasses and her teeth found my ear lobe which she gently tugged. “About… oh… wow. Nat.” There was so much desire in those three letters that it made her pause for a second.

  “Okay, Sara’s idea?” Her index finger trailed its second favourite path along my collar bone and back again. I could barely wait until it started its favourite path, up my thigh heading towards…

  “We went to see Dotty at the castle,” I gasped out. “She’s had a cancellation for the tenth of February.”

  “Excellent,” Natalie began nibbling my neck again.

  I dragged myself away from her addictive lips and eyed her suspiciously. “Do you even know what I’m talking about?”

  “Yes, Sara’s idea. Married in the castle. Tenth of Feb.”

  I pinched her hip. “Did you know about this already?” She held her forefinger and thumb apart. Okay they weren’t apart, they were touching. “That’s not a little, Jeffries!”

  She attempted a chagrined expression but failed miserably. “No, it’s not,” she kissed my forehead. “Sara suggested the gentle nudge, I suggested the castle.”

  “Really? And was anyone else in on this little plan of yours?” I asked, temperamentally if I’m honest. There may even have been a touch of whining involved.

  “No, just me and Sara. Sweetie, I don’t want you to think it was for any reason other than I want to marry you as soon as possible.” She bit her lower lip nervously. “Plus when you get the all clear, I don’t want you running back to the States without a ring on your finger so that everyone,” she coughed Tess, “knows you are most definitely taken.”

  “But what if I’m not given the all clear?” We’d resisted the temptation of playing the ‘what if’ game up until now. “Don’t you think we should wait in case we get bad news?”

  “Nope,” she said boldly.

  “Are you sure, Nat? Maybe it would be best to wait.” I began to second guess myself. Sara didn’t exactly give me any time to think. Now I was thinking. Now I was worrying. Now I was panicking a wee bit.

  “Why?” Natalie gave me her full attention. “Why should we wait? We want to be married on Holy Island. Check. We want our family to be there. Check. I love you, you love me and we want to spend the rest of our lives together. Check. Nothing, and I mean nothing, will change any of that.” She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. “Unless, of course you don’t want to?”

  “Of course I do,” I replied stiffly, affronted by the very idea.

  “Then call Dotty and confirm the date. Tomorrow we’ll start making the preparations in earnest.” We looked at each other, me with a sense of trepidation and Nat with eagerness. Faced with her unwavering conviction my nerves morphed into excitement.

  “Tomorrow? Whatever happened to there’s no time like the present?” I asked.

  “I have something far more important to do right now,” she murmured throatily, and even though I knew exactly to what she was alluding, I decided to have some fun.

  “More important than our extremely fast approaching nuptials?” I put a hand to my chest and feigned outrage, but Natalie knew me far too well and I wasn’t known for my acting ability.

  “Come here, woman.” She pulled me closer. “Besides this is an important part of the preparations; we’re going to have a wedding night rehearsal.” She had an answer for everything which was both impressive and annoying, especially because ninety nine times out of a hundred her answer was bloody right!

  Within seconds our gentle kisses turned more insistent; it was like we wanted to imprint each other on our souls. “You know, we could enact another fantasy…” I said softly.

  “Tell me more,” she said.

  “Uhmm… Do you fancy a helping hand?” I asked shyly.

  Natalie jumped back. “Are you suggesting a threesome?” She looked appalled.

  But not as appalled as me at the thought of sharing her. “What? No, I mean the kind you strap on, sweetheart,” I whispered huskily. We hadn’t played with our new toy since Christmas and I was desperate to use it again; it wasn’t only Natalie’s football skills that were off the charts!

  “Oh. Right,” she said, clearly underwhelmed.

  “Nat? Sweetheart? Don’t you like using it?”

  “No. I mean yes. I mean… sometimes, you know. When we get passionate.” She added. Her nervousness was rather cute, if unfounded.

  “Yes? We get passionate. So what?” It suddenly occurred to me that she was concerned about the bloody lump.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.” And at that moment she found her hands exceedingly interesting as she focussed intently on them.

  And there it was. Reason four hundred and thirty eight for not telling her. “Nat, you could never hurt me. Ever. It would hurt me more if you stopped being so, I don’t know…” I cupped her face with both hands. “You make me feel alive, make me feel desired. You help me forget. When I lose myself in you, nothing, and I mean nothing, else matters. When your eyes darken with passion, when you scream and moan my name, nothing else matters. When I taste you, and you me, nothing else matters. I need to feel your body, I need to feel you inside me, now more than ever. And it can be fast, it can be slow. It can be tender or rough. Whatever it will be, it will be us.”

  That did the trick, because Nat wriggled and smiled, adorably. “Here?” she asked. “Ah right. Now I remember which fantasy you’re talking about!” She leapt off the sofa.

  “Wherever you want baby,” I called after her; although I had a lot of ground to make up, I was set when it came to the bedroom department or sofa department as was the case in point. “Here, let me help,” I said when she returned from the bedroom with the dildo. My eager hand had barely reached the buttons on her jeans when the front door flew open and Mrs Jeffries came marching in.

  “Hi,” she called. “This is hot. Here, Natalie, you take it.” Natalie pulled her t-shirt over her jeans and threw the dildo at me with such force it almost rebounded and hit me in the eye (which would have been one shiner I wouldn’t like to explain) and I quickly shoved it behind the cushion. Luckily Nat was blocking me from her mother’s view. “Put it in the oven and it’ll keep warm until you’re ready for it.”

  Okay being caught in a compromising position by Mrs Jefferies once was unfortunate; twice, however, was downright unforgivable.

  She must have noticed our rabbits caught in headlights demeanour. “Is everything alright?” she said when Natalie finally took the dish.

  “Fine, Mam,” Nat said staring at the cushion. I shrugged at her when she flicked her head at it. What the hell could I do? Whip it out in front of her mother and say ‘research for the new book.’ “Do you want tea?” she asked escaping to the kitchen to straighten herself out.
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br />   Well you know what I mean.

  “That would be nice, pet.” Mrs Jeffries turned to me. “You’ve finally succeeded in the impossible and trained my youngest. You should get a medal.”

  “She’s still on probation, Mrs J, she added milk to my green tea last week. I’d better go and give her a hand.” I too needed space to breathe.

  I practically ran into the kitchen where Natalie and I fell into each other’s arms laughing, our hands covering our mouths. Nat lowered her head and placed it gently on my shoulder. “That was too close a call. I’m going to Homebase this afternoon to buy a bolt for that bloody door if it’s the last thing I do.” She said it quite seriously but the smile remained on her face. I squeezed her tight. This was how I imagined it would always be between us. This was my life right here and to think I nearly threw it all away.

  “Natalie, what’s this?” Mrs Jefferies called through from the front room

  Nat and I gawked at each other. Dear fucking God, no. Our eyes were wide and you could hear a pin drop. Our expressions were mirror images of each other.

  Utter mortification with a little dread sprinkled in for good measure.

  “I’ve read about these things, but I’ve never seen one in real life,” she added.

  “Wha… what?” I stuttered.

  “She’s been watching Ellen,” Nat explained quietly.

  “Ellen does not discuss dildos!” I guffawed. “Go and see what she’s talking about.” I didn’t want to go back into the living room, and I categorically one hundred percent did not want to know what Natalie’s Mam had been reading about on the internet.

  “It’s smaller than I thought it would be.” Mrs Jeffries came into the kitchen holding up my Microsoft Surface, my other Christmas present from Nat.

  Oh, thank God and all the saints and angels in heaven too.

  “I thought we might get one. It would make keeping track of the bookings for the B&B easier.”

  “That’s a great idea Mrs Jefferies, why don’t we have our tea here at the kitchen table and I’ll give you a quick demonstration. We can have a look at your website,” I suggested as I hustled her to a seat.