Page 6 of After the Rain
“Pax,” he admonishes, standing straight and raising a brow at the dog, but the dog simply liesdown, resting his head on my thigh very gently as though he knows my whole body aches. Aidan huffs a breath before seemingly accepting this new state of things. “I put sugar in your tea – it always helps.” His deep voice rumbles the few words as he places the mugs down on the coffee table in front of me. He unceremoniously shoves the small plate under my nose, and I look up at him to find that his intense stare from before has gone, and he's now avoiding my gaze altogether. On the plate sits a sandwich – cheese and pickle on white bread – that has been cut into four small triangles. My stomach swoops a bit at the thoughtfulness of the gesture.
“Uhm, thanks. I’m Rain, by the way.” I hold my hand out to him and keep my eyes on his until he finally looks at me after he’s sat down in the chair next to the sofa. I give him a tentative smile – as much as I can around my stupid, swollen face anyway – but all I see is his jaw clench before he reluctantly takes my hand, his grip tight.
He nods and says, in his gruff voice, “Aidan. That’s Pax.” He nods towards my new sofa-mate. His grip on my hand never loosens, and we hold onto each other for what feels like a few seconds longer than would be normal. Then, he lets me go and looks away again. I return my hand to Pax’s fur and look away as well. Yep, he definitely wants me out of his hair.
To distract myself from the unexpected pang of disappointment at my rescuer’s dismissal of me, I sip my tea, which is perfect with milk and two sugars in it, while taking the opportunity to look around the room. It’s more of a cabin or barn than a house, but a large one with most of the living space dominated by the large corner sofa that I’m currently sitting on. The living area has a cosy, shabby-chic vibe with rough-hewn wooden walls, and a wood-burning stove in a large stone fireplace dominating the wall opposite the sofa. Packed bookshelves sit on either side and scrubbed wooden floors run throughout the space. The walls on either side have huge glass bi-fold doors, but it’s so dark outside I can’t see what lies beyond the cabin. Behind me is the front door, and to the right of that is the door Aidan went through, which I presume leads to the kitchen. All around, there are stunning black and white photographs of boats on the water that I presume are the Norfolk Broads. The high ceiling over the room has four skylights that frame the apex of the roof, but above the kitchen, the upstairs is enclosed. I guess that’s where the bedrooms and bathroom must be. It’s truly stunning, and so homely it makes my heart ache a little. The council flat where I lived with Mum had this same sense of home, albeit on a smaller scale.
I drag my attention back to Aidan, who isnow nodding along to his brother as he tries to figure out a place for me to stay.
“The White Horse has a couple of rooms, but I think I remember Sam saying he was refurbishing them before he puts them on Airbnb, so I don’t think that’s an option. The only other place is Maggie’s Bed and Breakfast, but I know her whole family is up from Cornwall for a few weeks until after Christmas, so I doubt she’ll have any space. I’m struggling to think of anywhere else.” Nash looks off into space, his mind clearly whirring as he tries to find a solution. I get the feeling that Nash is one of life’s problem-solvers and gets frustrated when he can’t quite fix things to his satisfaction.
“It’s OK,” I say. “I can keep driving, I just need to get my car fixed. I slept in it last night, and I was fine, so it will do until I find somewhere else. Thanks for all your he—”
My sentence is cut off by Aidan as he stands abruptly and says firmly, “You’ll stay here.” He grabs the now-empty mugs and walks off into the kitchen with them. Nash straightens in his seat and eyes his brother’s back in surprise, before turning back to me.
“Uhm, I, uhm…” Nash’s inability to find words just adds to my confusion over what just happened. Aidan wanted me to leave, right? He was all grumpy, gruff, and grouchy, and grrrrr. Sowhy is he now saying I’ll stay here? No, not saying. Telling. Telling me I’ll stay here. I’m shit out of other options, and he and Nash seem sane, and I’m definitely not too proud to accept – this cabin is way nicer than my cold, cramped, and uncomfortable car – but I really don’t want him to offer just because he feels sorry for me. I’m not sure what it is about Aidan, but he just seems so…capable. Of everything. And I’m a fucking mess. So, if he’s offering me a place to stay out of pity? I’m pretty sure I’d rather sleep in my car than have that man see me as some stupid pushover he feels obligated to offer a helping hand to.
Aidan returns, drying his hands on a tea towel. “What?” he asks, as he looks between my confused and Nash’s shocked expressions.
“Aidan, that’s so kind of you,” I say, my voice still not sounding like my own. Fucking Dan fucking squeezing my fucking throat. “But I don’t want to impose. Really, I’ll be fine. Is there a garage in town where I can get my car fixed?” I stand up and gingerly walk toward Aidan as Nash watches with his mouth open. I hadn’t realised just how tallAidan is until I find myself craning my neck back slightly to look up at him. As I do, I see his jaw is clenching again.
“My sister can probably fix your car. And you can stay here. Get better. Then decide.” Aidan pauses, looks away as though contemplatingsomething heavy, and then mutters, “I won’t hurt you.” I reel back. What? He thinks I’m scared of him? Yes, he’s grumpy, and barely speaks more than a few words at a time, and I’ve only known him for what, an hour or two? Granted, I’ve spoken to his brother a hell of a lot more than Aidan, but him hurting me had not even entered my mind. I hate that my reluctance to stay made him think I was afraid of him.
“I know you won’t,” I say, conviction in my croaky voice. “I’m not afraid of you.” Aidan’s head whips back, and his eyes meet mine. “I’m not afraid of you,” I repeat. “I just didn’t want to impose on you. But if you’re sure you don’t mind me sleeping on your sofa for a few nights?” Aidan nods at me, his dark brown eyes softening, but I swear there’s something else behind them. Relief maybe? No, that can’t be right. “Then, thank you, Aidan. That would be great.” I smile at him again, and the corner of his mouth tilts up in the barest hint of a smile in return.
Aidan leads me upstairs to the guest room. Apparently, I won’t be sleeping on the sofa. The room is painted in a dark blue with a beautiful wooden bed. The linens are bright white, and I can still see the fold lines from where they came out of the packet brand new. It would seem that Aidan doesn’t have many people over to stay.From what I’ve seen of him so far, that doesn’t surprise me. He seems as though his space is his sanctuary, and now he’s invited me in to share it. He opens a door in the corner, revealing a pristine white bathroom. He tells me there are towels, toiletries, and a fresh toothbrush in the cabinet under the sink before turning back to me, stepping closer. I look up at him again, and he tips his head forward to look me in the eye.
“Rest. It’s late.” I nod and thank him before he moves past me, and I turn to watch him leave. When he carefully closes the door behind him, I release a breath that I hadn’t realised I was holding.
Aidan’s footsteps retreat down the hallway and pause before starting again as he heads downstairs, presumably to say goodnight to Nash. I sit gently on the edge of the bed and try to get my head around how, in the last day and a half, I went from leaving one man behind – with absolutely nothing to show for a three-year relationship but some broken bones, bruises, and a fat lip – to being here, in this stunning cabin in the Norfolk countryside with a man who looks like he could crush a watermelon with his bicep. A man who, I’m pretty sure, is really just a huge teddy bear in need of a hug.
Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I make my way into the bathroom to have ashower. Before long, I’m crawling into the king-sized bed, and I’m asleep before my head hits the pillow.
Four
Aidan
At half past three in the morning, I reluctantly accept that I’m not going to get any more sleep, or any sleep at all for that matter, and swing my legs out from under the warm duvet. I quickly grab the pair of grey joggers that I left on the floor by the bed and pull them on. Commando is entirely acceptable at this time of the night, or day, or morning? Ugh, whatever. It’s early and cold, and my pants are in the dresser across the cold wooden floor. Grabbing my old, ratty ‘Dream Boats’ hoodie that is always hanging on the back of my bedroom door, I slip my feet into my snuggly wool slipper boots and carefully open my door as quietly as I can, so I don’t wake Rain. He seemed exhausted when he went to bed, so I want him to sleep.
I head downstairs thinking that if I’m up and awake for the day, I may as well have a nice cup of tea and catch up on a few episodes ofthis year’s series ofThe Great BritishBake Off. It’s not until I’m halfway down the stairs that I see a flickering light and hear the quiet sounds of the TV coming from the living room. Maybe Rain can’t sleep either. I can’t explain why the image of snuggling up on the sofa with Rain tucked safely under my arms, dozing on my chest while I stroke his messy brown hair, suddenly pops into my head, but I shake myself to rid the image from my mind. He is bruised, yes, but he’s also beautiful. What would he want with a rough and ready boat builder who lives in the sticks and has no intention of living anywhere else?
I round the corner and spot not only Rain, but Pax as well, curled up on the sofa, the green blanket from the basket next to his end of the sofa tucked over both of them. Pax’s head is blissfully resting on Rain’s thigh. Lucky bastard. Unbidden, a soft chuckle escapes me. Rain’s head spins around so fast he must give himself whiplash.
“Shit. Aidan. I’m so sorry if I woke you up. I, uhm, I couldn’t sleep, and I just thought Pax might be good, uhm, company? I’m so sorry, I…” Rain’s eyes are darting about, wide and terrified, and I absolutely will not have that. Despite his fear, he’s careful not to speak too loudly, and he continues to stroke my dog’s head gently, although his hand is shaking.
I move over to him quickly, rounding thesofa, and taking a seat next to him on the plush cushions. Slowly, I reach to grab his hand from Pax’s head. Pax’s only response is to lift his head and give me a baleful look before returning to his previous position with a deep sigh that tells me he’s not impressed that I’ve stolen his fusses. “Hey, relax. It’s fine. You’re fine.” Rain’s terrified eyes burn into mine, and I try to tell him with my eyes that he is safe and that I’m not going to hurt him. I squeeze his hand gently, and a little piece of my heart tightens when, after a few seconds delay, I feel him gently squeeze back. I know he said he wasn’t afraid of me before we went to bed, but in the dark at half three in the morning, he might feel differently.
Eventually, after more than a few seconds, Rain takes a deep breath through his nose and slowly breathes out through his mouth. He nods slightly and gives me a small smile that prompts me to smile back at him. It feels alien to me. I’m only now realising how long it has been since I’ve given an honest, genuine smile to someone I wasn’t related to.
Rain’s smile grows, and his poor, bruised eyes sparkle as he gazes at me and says with a wondrous tone, “There you are.”
I’m not sure what he means, but for some reason, his words penetrate my anxious mind and my heart that has been reserved for familialaffection only, and I realise that this guy is going to be trouble for me. I know he’ll move on soon, but already a part of me knows that I don’t want him to.
I clear my throat before I launch into some weird soliloquy about that sparkle I saw in his eyes and say, “I couldn’t sleep.”
“I thought as much. It’s really dark here. I got a bit spooked,” he replies. “I’m just watching reruns ofFriends. I hope that’s OK? Netflix was already logged in.” His question sounds hesitant.
“Of course it’s OK. Just make yourself at home. I was, uhm, actually going to catch up on a few episodes of something, but we can watchFriendsinstead.”
