Page 15 of The Rescue

Her forehead is still resting on the table. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

I rush back to the coffee machine, and make two large black coffees, extra strong, and load a plate with a healthy granola bar. I make my way back to the table, my eyes are fixated on Crystal yawning and stretching, trying to wake herself up. Why is everything that she does so fucking cute?

She’s rocking the usual attire today, large oversized sweater, denim shorts and her signature cowboy boots.

“Here, I made two coffees to get you started, and I’ll make sure Nellie keeps you topped up.”

I place the coffees and the granola bar in front of her. This is where I should’ve turned around and got back to work, I have a never ending list of jobs. But I find myself unconsciously sitting down across from her, like a moth drawn to a flame.

Crystal takes one look at the granola bar and picks it up and smiles.

“I remember you saying that I was fattening you up, that’s the healthiest thing I make.”

I lied, I stayed up late last night and made them just for her. I didn’t like hearing the way she spoke about her weight, she’s tiny as it is. There’s nothing wrong with indulging in things that make you happy. But if it was making her uncomfortable eating the stuff that she thought was bad for her, then I would try to make her feel good about herself in some way, like making these granola bars for her.

“Rabbie, you are too thoughtful,” she yawns again, all this yawning she’s doing is starting to make me feel tired.

“So, still not sleeping well at Thistle Down?”

“Nope. I shouldn’t be so ungrateful. Cam and Dylan have been great hosts, but their late night sexcapades are making it hard for me to fall asleep. I miss my bed too, I might as well be sleeping on the floor, the air bed is that shit.”

I’m taken aback by how openly she can talk about sex. I wouldn’t call myself a prude, but I would like to say that I’m a private person, especially when it comes to sex. I shift in my seat, feeling uncomfortable.

Crystal’s moss green eyes are twinkling at me as she sips her coffee, and I notice a small smirk on her face. I think she enjoys making people uncomfortable with her brashness.

“I think I’m just envious they’re having great sex, whilst I’m stuck on a blow up air mattress in their living room,” she says as matter of fact.

I feel the heat rush up my legs, and straight to my groin. So much for keeping it professional. Feeling betrayed by my mind, and shocked by Crystal’s openness, I struggle to find the words to speak, so I gawp at her instead.

She bites the inside of her mouth, and my eyes gravitate to her mouth. Her plump lips are full and rosy with a soft red tint to them. They look as soft as the sugary sweet pastries that I bake, and I wonder what it would be like to kiss her. Her eyes have a thin eyeliner with a little wing that makes her already cat-shaped eyes more pronounced. For someone who is exhausted and hasn’t slept well, she still manages to look beautiful.

I just gave David a lecture about keeping things professional. And here I am with a semi hard cock, gawking at her.I’m such a hypocrite.

I’m still processing the topic of conversation we were having when Nellie wanders out from the kitchen and starts to set up in the front. She turns on the music and interrupts the moment Crystal and I were just having, and a wave of relief washes over me. I jump up from the table and practically run back to thekitchen. I need to focus, I have so many orders to make, and now all I can think about is Crystal and how good she would look on her knees, with her plump lips wrapped around my cock.

* * *

I spent the rest of the day rushed off my feet. I should be grateful that my business is doing so well, but I’ve been riddled with anxiety since the pile of orders doesn’t seem to be going down. I can’t seem to get ahead, and it’s very overwhelming. The imposter syndrome is hitting me hard, never in my wildest dream did I think my adult life would be so successful. The seed of doubt starts to form in my head, and I question whether I’m good enough to do this.

I try not to get in my own head too much. I don’t function well when my head tells me I’m not good enough. The trauma from my mum leaving me when I was a wee lad slowly creeps up on me, and I struggle to keep it at bay. My dad was never really around, I know who he is, but he didn’t want the responsibility of being a father. My mum and dad had such a toxic relationship they were always breaking up and getting back together.

When he was around, he would constantly tell me that I was never good enough and that they didn’t want me. I’m not really sure how my mum felt, but she went along with him in fear of making him mad. So eventually he’d talked her into leaving me with my Nan. She essentially picked him over me.

I remember it as if it was yesterday, my mum dropping me off at my Nan’s house with a trash bag full of everything I owned, which wasn’t much. I remember asking her when she’d be back, and she didn’t answer me. She couldn’t even look at me. I grabbed on to her so tight that she had to peel my fingers off herjacket. I screamed and cried, begging her not to leave me. But she did. I saw her now and then when she’d come to my Nan’s house asking to borrow money. She never really acknowledged me, or asked how I was doing. She just wanted money, not me.

But when my Nan kept turning her away, she’d stopped coming. I haven’t seen her since I was eighteen, and by that point I was so angry and resentful I didn’t want to see her anyway.

Every time she would show up unexpectedly, the little boy inside me was so hopeful that she was coming back for me, I would get a rush of giddiness that she really did miss me, but she never came for me.

I remembered that we used to live a couple of towns away from Crossmackie, and I went there one day after school when I was fifteen. I took the bus and walked down the street trying to remember what number house we lived in. When I finally remembered the house, I knocked on the door, my whole body vibrating from so many emotions - anger, anticipation, frustration and excitement. I stood there, which felt like an eternity, trying to keep my breathing under control.

When the woman answered the door, it wasn’t my mum. I was sad and relieved to find out that they had moved. The owner of the house didn’t know where they had moved to, so I don’t know where my parents live to this day.

I don’t know what I was expecting when I went there, maybe some foolish part of me was hoping that she still lived there and that she would invite me in, and we’d put everything behind us.

I don’t really care for my dad, he was always vicious and nasty towards me. I think I could forgive my mum if the opportunity came. When my dad wasn’t around, she was a different person, she was sweet and kind to me. But when he was around, she would ignore me and act like I didn’t exist. I was angry and bitter for so long in my teenage years, but I’ve learntto let all that go and move on with my life. The only important person in my life is my Nan, she is the reason I am where I am today, if it wasn’t for her, I’d likely be in prison or dead. She’s a tender, caring woman, but she’s stern with me when I need a kick up the arse. She knew how broken I was when my mum left me with her, and did everything in her power to heal me, and she did in a way. She also lost her daughter that day, and I’d like to think that I helped her heal too.

I have my Nan, the MacTavish brothers, Fiona, and all the locals of Crossmackie for taking me under their wing and loving me the way I should’ve been loved. That’s why I love this small town so much, and why I always have time for the locals because they genuinely care about me, and I care about them all, a lot.

---