Page 16 of After the Rain
“Always, but I love it. You need something? Aidan, maybe?” Cole waggles his eyebrows suggestively at me, and I arch mine at him in a ‘keep your nose out of it’ gesture that he definitely reads and simply laughs at.
“I, erm, I need all of you, actually, I guess.” At my words, Archer strolls over from his work area, wiping his hands on a cloth that is so grubby I’m not sure it could ever do anything to clean them. Aidan emerges from behind another boat in the back of the shed, his overalls tied around his waist, and a dust-covered black Henley shirt barely containing his muscular chest and arms. Archer passes me his cloth and gestures to my lip.
“You’ve got a little something just…” He points to the corner of his mouth. “It’s just a bit of drool.” Cole cracks up laughing while I blush from my feet to the tips of my ears and look down at the ground, only looking up when I hear a slapping sound. Aidan is now standing next to me, his warmth seeping through my clothes, which are, in fact, Aidan’s clothes. Aidan’s hoodie and Aidan’s yummy lumberjack coat that I still haven’t given back. “Dick,” Archer grumbles under his breath while rubbing the side of his head where, I can only assume, Aidan gave him a clip ’round the ear as he passed.
“What’s up?” Aidan asks, his voice soft and grumbly, sending tingles through me until they land in my dick. I clear my throat to distract myself.
“Well, we just got another booking,” I say, my confidence growing when I talk about work. The guys all grin at me. I know they’re happy with the work I’ve done so far – they’ve all told me separately. “It’s a young couple on their honeymoon, but they were very careful to book the shortest break on the cheapest dates we had available, so I think budget might be a bit tight for them. I was wondering if it would be OK to give them a complimentary luxury hamper and arrange a few special decorations or something? It would be good for photos for the website, but mainly, I just think it would be something nice for them. I can pay for it from my—” My words halt when all three of them say varyingversions of ‘no’, ‘fuck no’, and ‘absolutely not’. My disappointment flares up, but I guess the hampers are usually about fifty to a hundred quid a pop, depending on what’s in them, so I can understand why they might not want to foot the expense. “Oh, OK,” I say, my disappointment clearly obvious when Aidan reaches around me and pulls me close to his body.
“No, you won’t pay for it out of your own wages, Rain. Not,no, you can’t do it. I think that would be a really lovely gesture, and it’s only going to do good things for our reputation as well.” Cole and Archer nod in agreement, and relief and happiness flood me. I lean into Aidan’s side a little more, and he squeezes me to him a bit tighter. Archer and Cole catch each other’s eye and slowly drift away back to their work areas.Subtle as a brick to the face, I think to myself. Not that I mind any opportunity to get close to Aidan, just the two of us, so I can stay wrapped up in him as long as I can.
He nudges me with his hip before turning me to face him.
“You doing OK?” he asks with a soft, concerned look on his face. He knows I had therapy this morning. He checks in on me at some point after every session, and if I wasn’t already sure I was head over heels in love with this man, that alone would make me fall a bit more eachtime. I smile softly at him and reach for his hand, softly stroking the back of it with my thumb as he gently squeezes my fingers.
“I’m good, thanks. We talked a lot about, well, everything, and I came away feeling really optimistic, which is kind of new for me still, but I like it.” He’s looking down at me with an expression of such care and affection, and maybe even something a little bit like the way I know I look when I think of him. When I brush my teeth, when I’m in the shower, when I, uhm, ‘take care of myself’ in said shower.
He leans forward slightly, then catches himself and straightens, letting go of my hand and stepping back. A wave of nausea rolls through my stomach at his distancing himself. Has he changed his mind about how he feels about me? Have I taken too long to feel closer to ready for something real with him? So long that he’s moved on? Has he not actually been working in the shed? Has he been out on dates? I feel shame and regret barrelling down on me, and tears fill my eyes. I turn away to make my escape when I hear a muttered “Fuck!” before his strong arms wrap around me from behind and he folds himself over my back, pulling me close to his chest. Immediately, I feel my wayward emotions settle, and I follow his lead, taking a deep breath and releasing it as he does the same.
“I just didn’t want to crowd you or do something you’re not ready for, baby,” he whispers into the spot below my ear so only I can hear him. I swallow the lump in my throat and let his words settle over me.Baby?That’s the first time he’s ever called me that, and to say it feels right is the understatement of the century.
He continues whispering into my neck. “I’m sorry, baby.”
Tears fill my eyes for a whole different reason now, and I lean farther into his hold as he tightens his arms around me. I shake my head gently to reassure him that I’m good.
“Can I show you something later?” he asks. I look over my shoulder at him, and our eyes meet. I nod, and he smiles his beautiful smile at me. “Good,” he whispers again. “After dinner?” I nod again, and I swear I feel his lips brush gently on the top of my head before he steps away slowly, his hand brushing down my arm until only our fingers touch. And then he’s gone. I glance back over my shoulder as I make my way dazedly to the door, and he’s walking away from me backwards, his eyes fixated on my arse. I grin to myself and head back to the office to organise some freebies for the honeymoon couple and try to get my head on straight. If I just so happen to swing my hips a little more than necessary, then that’s between me and my conscience.
A few hours later, I finish up my admin tasks, hit ‘share’ on the Instagram post of the whole DB team standing together in front of the yacht fleet, and grab my empty mug to take back into the house. It’s Friday, and I’m looking forward to a quiet weekend after a busy week. I prepare a light dinner for Aidan and me as we had a huge lunch today. Earlier today, Poppy and Chris turned up with huge buffet platters leftover from a corporate brunch they had catered, and we had an absolute feast. I decided grilled chicken, salad, and Moroccan couscous flatbreads would be just right for tonight after all that food earlier.
Aidan comes in the house and heads upstairs straight away for a shower – like he does every day – before joining me in the kitchen just as I’m serving dinner. He seems a bit shy around me after our moment in the workshop this morning, and I want to reassure him that it’s all OK. More than OK.
I move around him, stroking his shoulder with my hand as I reach into the cabinet for a couple of wine glasses. I look over at him and see him smiling back at me. We’re good. Hopefully better than good if I can just, you know, tell him I’m ready. But for now, I swallow my nerves, pour us each a glass of red, and we each take our plates to the table.
Twelve
Aidan
We finish dinner, and after we clean up the kitchen as usual, my stomach fills with nerves. I’ve been working on a surprise for Rain, and now that his injuries are pretty much healed up, I think it’s a good time to share it with him. His ribs seem a lot better, but even if he isn’t quite ready for what I’ve done, at least he knows it’s there for when he is.
He rinses the cloth he was using to wipe the sides over and hangs it over the tap, washes his hands, then turns to me, an expectant look on his beautiful face. I chuckle at him, and his smile grows.
“What?” he asks with a chuckle of his own.
“Oh, nothing. Thanks for dinner. It was delicious.” I turn away and pretend to leave the room. He squawks indignantly behind me before rushing to block the doorway with his smaller frame. His expression promises retribution. “Everything OK?” I ask cheekily, knowing exactly what he wants.
“You said, erm, earlier that you had a, erm, surprise for me?” His stuttered words and shy, questioning tone make my heart squeeze inside my chest. His eyes are darting all over the kitchen and over my shoulders, but never quite meet my eyes. I wish I were better at playing this game, but I know my anxiety would skyrocket if I were in his shoes, even over something as small as this. So, I do the thing I really want to do. I pinch his chin between my fingers and lift his face until his beautiful eyes meet mine. His gaze hits like a tonne of bricks, as usual.
“I do, baby. I’m only teasing you,” I say softly before cupping his jaw and stroking his soft cheek with my thumb. He smiles softly and leans ever so slightly into my touch. “Come on,” I whisper, my hand leaving his face to stroke down his arm before taking his hand, entwining our fingers together, and moving us toward the front door.
I grab both of our jackets while he pulls on his Converse. The way he has completely destroyed the backs of his shoes by jamming his feet into them before forcing them over his heels without untying his laces is something that I know would drive my mum absolutely bonkers – she was always going on about ruining our shoes when we were kids.“Pick your bloody feet up, you’llscuff your shoes!”The memory makes me smile, as I quickly pull my own already-untied boots on and lace them up.
He finally gets his shoes on, and I hold his jacket out for him. A slight blush graces his cheeks as he turns his back to me and tucks his arms into the sleeves. When I close the jacket around the front of his body by draping myself over his back, I hear his breath catch in his throat. The sound sets butterflies off in my stomach. I know we said that we couldn’t take things further, but that was several weeks ago now, and Rain has been doing so well with his therapy, and I think his job is helping too. He leans into me as I fiddle with the zipper and close him into his plaid fleece jacket. Technically, it’smyplaid fleece jacket, but he’s worn it since the first day he got here, and I try not to think too hard about how much I like the sight of him wearing my clothes. Come to think of it, he’s wearing my hoodie again, too. I grin over the top of his head before placing a featherlight kiss on top of his unruly hair.
“Ready?” I ask, that same grin in place that I can’t seem to get rid of. I’m equal parts nervous and excited to show him what I’ve been working on. What if he hates it? He won’t hate it. I know he won’t. Ihopehe won’t.
Rain nods, his own smile growing as he takes in my face. He takes my hand this time, andI turn and lead him out the door. We both bluster about how fucking cold it is as we head down the steps and round the corner of the house to the unused work shed that I’ve been working in this last week or so.
“What are you showing me?” Rain asks, tentatively. “I’ve been wondering what you’ve been up to in here every night.” I just grin at him, again, over my shoulder.Seriously, stop with the grins, Aidan, for fuck’s sake – you’re not the Joker!
