Page 35 of Highland Games
Rory nodded and went back out the door for more. Zoe watched him go, noticing four chairs next to the table. They were ornate and carved out of dark wood. One of them was like a throne on top of a wooden box. She went to inspect it. There was a hinge on the back of the seat. She lifted it up as Rory clanked back into the cabin.
‘Ahh, I see you’ve found the commode.’ He put the poles on the floor and came over to show her how it worked. ‘You’ve got a porcelain potty in the box underneath. When you need the loo, you lift the lid, and do what you need to do. Then, when you’re done, you pull down the front panel like this, and take out the pot.’
‘I am not using that!’
‘Would you prefer to get up in the middle of the night and traipse down to the outhouse for a wee or use this? Besides, I got it for me, not you.’
‘This is for you to use?’
‘I’m not going to piss in it. I mean I got it for you, so you didn’t need to knock me off a ladder every morning.’
‘Oh.’ She pointed to the scaffolding poles. ‘What are they for?’
Rory wasn’t someone who wasted time. He began connecting them together. ‘I need to make a moveable tower to put the wool under the roof. You can help me in a bit if you don’t mind.’
‘Can I eat something first? I’m starving.’
Rory smiled. ‘Carry on, I don’t need you yet.’
Zoe filled the firebox with wood and opened the Rayburn up. She wasn’t going to cook, but if she could warm Rory up then maybe some of his clothes would come off. She went outside to collect the leftovers from the porch and brought them in to eat straight from the boxes.
It was a luxury to sit on a chair at the table, a mug of tea in her hand, good food in her belly, and a view to die for in front of her eyes. Watching Rory work was like the beginning of a porn film from the seventies. A hunk doing manual labour before the action started.
As she tucked into her food, she got out her phone and surreptitiously took photos of him, feeling a little sordid, but not enough to make her stop.
‘Do you want anything to eat? It’s leftovers from Morag’s.’
‘Got any meat?’
‘None left I’m afraid, but I can offer you a traditional Scottish dessert of tiramisu apple crumble. It’s an unusual combination I admit, but very nice.’
‘Thanks, but no thanks, I’ll eat later when I get home. Let me know when you’re finished, I’m ready for you now.’
If he was ready for her then she was definitely finished. She gulped the dregs of her tea, snapped the lids back on the boxes, put them outside, and came back to stand by the half-completed tower. A thought came to her, too delicious not to share. ‘I like your erection,’ she said, lifting an eyebrow.
Rory stepped back in shock, his mouth open. Zoe couldn’t hold it together and spat out a laugh that didn’t stop. She doubled over, gasping for breath. ‘I’m sorry! But the look on your face. Priceless! Oh my god, that was our favourite joke from Design and Technology classes at school, I haven’t used it in years.’
‘Have you quite finished?’
Zoe tried to calm herself, but was in the middle of a tiramisu crumble sugar rush. She reached towards the pile of scaffolding on the floor. ‘I just need to get a good grip on your pole.’ With that double entendre she fell about again, howling with laughter.
Rory stepped off the tower, grabbed a pole and climbed back up. Zoe was trying and failing to get herself under control. She was hysterical after the last few days. She’d moved house, got a pet rat, been strangled, got stuck up a tree, drank too much alcohol, thrown up, and been gifted a commode. And throughout all of this, she had fallen in lust with someone who thought she was at best repulsive, at worst a simpleton.
She wanted her friends, she wanted her parents. But most of all she wanted to stop laughing.
The thought of her parents helped calm her down. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. ‘I apologise. I’ve had too little sleep and too much sugar. My comments were inappropriate and unprofessional. I want to assure you the only erection I am interested in is this,’ she slapped the side of the tower with her hand, ‘and I am now here to assist you.’
Rory didn’t say anything, just pointed at the scaffolding poles on the ground. Zoe picked one up and passed it to him, followed by a clamp. They continued to work in silence.
After a couple of minutes she decided there was nothing more erotic than the sight of a man doing physical labour. She needed both arms and all her strength to lift the poles up to him. In contrast, he reached down and casually grabbed them from her, lifting them with ease. Zoe could see the muscles working under the skin of his large forearms, but it appeared effortless. She usually felt tall around men, bigger than most of them. But around Rory, it was as if she could be lost within the expanse of his arms.
She had each pole and clamp ready before he asked for it and the tower was quickly finished. She passed up a few wooden battens and he attached them in rows to the underside of the roof with a nail gun. After he’d done a section, he asked for the first fleece and pushed handfuls under the battens.
He looked down from the scaffolding.
‘It’s not pretty but it should make a big difference.’
Zoe was entranced. ‘I think it’s beautiful. I’m going to climb up later and take loads of photos.’
