Chapter 25 #2
Wanting to give him as much of the truth as I can, I reply, “A friend of mine stayed here at Christmas. When I told him I needed to get away for a while, he suggested I come here.”
“Will he be joining you?” Austin asks, voice tight. Wait, is he… jealous? Surely not.
I shrug. “Depends on how long I stay, I guess. He and his girlfriend loved it here, so I’m sure they’d be happy to have an excuse to come back if I decide to stick around.”
Austin’s steps falter. “You’re thinking of staying? Beyond the summer?”
Feeling his gaze boring into the side of my head, I risk looking up at him.
When I almost stumble thanks to a stray rock, I quickly refocus on the path ahead.
The intensity in his emerald eyes is too much to bear.
Why does he care so much about my answer?
Is it possible that Austin didn’t turn me down because he wasn’t interested but because he thought I’d be leaving in a couple of months?
“I haven’t decided yet, but it’s on the table. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t expect to keep working at Bowman’s—I know you only wanted the extra help to get you through the busy season.”
“Right. Yeah, that’s good,” he replies absentmindedly, as though that hadn’t occurred to him. “You really like it here that much?” Austin asks, still hung up on the possibility of me staying.
“I do. It’s beautiful here, and I’ve made some real friends. I think I’m even growing on my grumpy boss,” I tease, lightly bumping my shoulder against his arm.
“We could—” he coughs nervously. “I could probably keep you on at Bowman’s—if you want.”
“And here I was thinking you’d be eager to get rid of me.”
“Maybe I’ve realised how much I like having you around.”
“It’s about time,” I quip, refusing to show how much Austin’s words have affected me. Has it really been so long since someone showed me genuine affection that I’m getting flustered over the simple admission that Austin can tolerate my presence? God, I’m pathetic.
Ignoring the way my pulse has sped up, I continue, “You should plan for me to leave Bowman’s either way. I appreciate you giving me a job for the summer, but even if I decide to stay here, I won’t stay on at the bar.”
“You don’t like working there?” He’s doing his best to conceal it, but I can hear the hurt in his voice over the soft thud of our footsteps on the dirt path.
“It’s not that—Bowman’s is great.” Austin’s guarded expression tells me I’ll need to give him more than that if I’m going to convince him.
“Before coming here, I was… self-employed. I needed a break and wasn’t sure I’d go back to what I was doing or if I’d shift career paths.
Working for you while I figure out what I want to do next is perfect, but Bowman’s isn’t the place for me long term. ”
“Your CV didn’t mention that you were self-employed.”
A light gust of wind ruffles the strands of my hair as I scramble for an explanation. “I was worried you’d think I wouldn’t want to work in a bar if you knew what my real job is.”
He mulls that over. “That’s understandable.
Some of Mum’s friends had that issue when they wanted to switch to being semi-retired.
A lot of them struggled in interviews for part-time positions because people said they were overqualified.
” We walk in silence for a few more paces. “So, what do you do?”
“I’m in the entertainment industry,” I reply, intentionally keeping it vague and hoping he’s satisfied enough not to ask questions.
Austin’s brows wing up in surprise. “So that’s what you meant when you said you’ve been around a lot of musicians. Are you an agent or something?”
“Or something.” Not wanting to lie outright to him more than I already have, I change the subject to ask about what book he ended up getting for his nephew.
We continue the walk back towards town together, talking about Austin’s plans for Bowman’s.
He asks what I’ve been getting up to outside of work, and I tell him about my cross-stitching obsession and the few places I’ve explored so far.
When he asks questions about my life, I’m careful to keep my answers light and vague.
When Miranda had me put through media training I never imagined I’d end up using what I learned in my personal life, but now I’m glad to have the skills to fall back on.
Without all the practice I’ve had navigating interviews over the years, this balancing act of getting to know someone and letting them learn more about me while keeping my secret safe would be impossible.
We’re still a few miles from town when the first fat raindrops fall from the sky. We quicken our pace, but the rain only comes faster.
“Shit, I should have asked Mum if you could borrow one of her coats,” Austin says, eyeing my sweatshirt with regret.
“I could have asked one of the girls, but I thought I’d be fine. The forecast said it was supposed to stay dry until later.” I shiver, the rain rapidly soaking through the fabric of my sweatshirt.
“Take mine.” Austin hastily unzips his navy waterproof, ready to sacrifice his comfort for mine, but I halt him with a hand on his arm.
“Don’t.” I gesture at my torso. “I’m already soaked. There’s no need for you to get wet too.”
His lips flatten into a thin line of displeasure. “At least take my hat. It’ll be too big, but it should help keep the rain off your face.”
Our fingers brush as he hands it over, sending a flicker of warmth through my rain-chilled form. “Thanks.”
He was right—the hat is too big—but the brim keeps the rain from running into my eyes. “We’re not too far from town now, right?” I ask hopefully, raising my voice to be heard over the rain hammering down around us.
Austin’s grimace is obvious, even from beneath the hood of his coat. “We’re still about three miles out.” His expression brightens with an idea. “There’s an old-fashioned bus shelter not too much further along the road. We can wait out the rain there until it calms down.”
“I’m sold. Lead the way.”
After about ten minutes the bus shelter comes into view. “Thank God.” I hustle inside the wooden structure. Austin joins me a heartbeat later.
The shelter isn’t big, but it’s better than trudging through the pelting rain for another two and a half miles.
The front is open to the elements, but luckily the wind is blowing the rain away from us.
There’s a decent sized bench along the back of the structure, and the side panels are deep enough that the space inside the shelter is bone dry.
Shivering, I take a seat on the bench and set Austin’s cap, my water bottle, and my rain-splattered glasses down beside me. Leaning forward, I do my best to wring the water out of my hair and sweatshirt.
“Take that off and put my coat on instead.”
I look up at Austin in confusion as he tucks his backpack under the bench and then strips off his waterproof. “What? No. It’s freezing, you need it.”
He pins me with a stern look. “No, you’re freezing because you’re soaking wet. I’ll be chilly at best.” Holding the coat in his left hand, he gestures for me to get moving with his right. “Wet clothes off, coat on.”
Even knowing he’s right and that I’ll feel miles better without the rain-soaked fabric sticking to my body, I can’t resist giving him grief. “You’re that eager to see me shirtless?”
“Do you really believe that’s what I’m thinking about right now?” He replies, unamused.
“If you catch a glimpse of my boobs, they’d better be all you’re thinking about.”
Rolling his eyes hard enough to pull something, he thrusts the hand holding his coat towards me. “Just get changed. Please.”
“There’s the magic word.” Grabbing the hem of my sweatshirt, I yank it over my head, laughing when Austin curses and rushes to turn around when he realises I’ve removed my t-shirt as well.
Unable to resist the urge to fuck with him, I hop to my feet and sidle right up to his back, close enough that I can feel the heat from his body.
Lightly, I run my fingers down his bare arm before plucking the coat from his hand.
One day I’d love to trace every freckle on his body with my fingertips… Sadly, that day is not today.
Austin’s rigid posture relaxes at the sound of me zipping up his coat, and he turns to face me just as I’m tucking my glasses into the side pocket to keep them safe. His lips twitch in amusement at the sight of me practically drowning in the waterproof jacket.
“Don’t start. You’re literally over a foot taller than me.”
Palms lifted in surrender, he takes a seat close enough that his left knee brushes against my leg. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinking things. Loudly.”
Austin’s voice dips low, “I think about a lot of things when I’m around you.” His eyes widen a fraction as he realises what he’s admitted, and he clears his throat, attempting to cover his embarrassment. “Your teeth aren’t chattering anymore. That’s good.”
“Yeah. Thanks for the jacket.” I sit next to him, leaving a respectful distance between us. A shiver wracks my body, and Austin frowns.
He lifts his left arm to rest along the back of the bench seat. “Come here. Use me to get warm.”
“No, you’ll get covered in water.” Rain still drips from the outside of his waterproof.
“You’re still too cold even with my coat. I’m not having you get sick on my watch.”
“And you won’t get sick sitting there with a wet shirt for however long it takes all that to stop?” I ask, waving to the rain pelting down mere steps away.
“That doesn’t matter.”
I raise my eyebrows, but the stubborn set to Austin’s jaw tells me there’s no talking sense into him. “Ugh, fine.” I get to my feet. “Turn around.”
“Pardon?”
“I need you to face the side wall.”
“Why?” he asks, suspicion creeping into his voice.
“Because your insistence on being a gentleman is going to land you with hypothermia, which I’m not cool with no matter how frustrating you can be, so I’ve come up with a compromise.”
“And that means I have to face the wall because?”