5. Crystal
5
Crystal
“I don’t know how you’re not freezing to death,” Rabbie says as he tucks his hands under his armpits.
“It gets cold in Boston too, you know,” I laugh.
He nudges me with his shoulder. “Aye, but most people wear winter clothes there too.”
“Sugar, I’ve told you I’m not like most people,” I wink at him.
“I’m starting to realise that.” He laughs.
His laugh is gentle and effortless. I could listen to it all day, especially rolling around in the sheets with him. Rabbie has loosened up a bit, and the conversation between us is more relaxed with a hint of playful banter. I can’t help but get lost in salacious thoughts when he looks at me with his soft green eyes.
It’s mid October and the weather here is already close to arctic, but I’m not letting on to Rabbie that I’m freezing cold. I will never sacrifice looking good for the weather. It’s that icy cold, I can’t feel my toes, they’ve gone completely numb.
The shoulder nudge throws me off guard, is he just being friendly, or is he finally flirting with me? I’ve been trying to flirt with him all day, but he’s not picking up on any of my advances, and it’s starting to frustrate the hell out of me. It’s not usually this hard for me to get a guy swooning over me. He brings me coffee and sandwiches and nothing. Just business.
The tiny main street of Crossmackie is quiet, and it’s a stark contrast to the busy city life I’m used to. I like the bustling, metropolitan life of Boston. This place reminds me too much of the small town I’m from back home in Tennessee. And with that some a slew of unpleasant memories. As a woman, growing up in the south was hard, the expectation of me was high and I didn’t deliver. I was constantly lectured by the women in my family. Sit up straight, you’re slouching. Smile, no boy will want to take you to prom if you constantly frown. Don’t eat too much sugar, it’s bad for you. Your curfew is earlier than your brother’s because you’re a girl.
My older brothers had a different upbringing to me even though we have the same parents and lived in the same house. It wasn’t fair that I had to bend to all the societal rules because I’m a female, and my brothers could go and do whatever they pleased. My mama’s voice echoes in my head– “boys will be boys.”
I’m brought back from my memories of home when we stop outside The Drunken Duck and Rabbie opens the door for me with a huge smile on his face.
“After you,” his broad Scottish accent makes my stomach flutter.
“Thanks.”
I feel my flush as I brush past him, and his sweet, musky scent fills my nose. It’s not cologne that makes him smell so good, but his natural pheromones. It’s subtle, and not overpowering like most men who wear cologne, and it has my knees buckling. I grab on to the door to stop myself from tripping over the step. Thankfully, he doesn’t notice this, and I quickly compose myself.
We enter The Drunken Duck to find it packed with the whole town, all eyes landing on us standing in the doorway. I catch a few of the locals whispering to each other behind their drinks. I brush away the feeling of uneasiness that small town gossip brings, and walk over to the table in the corner to find Dylan and Cam snuggling up together. They’re a cute couple, I’ll give them that, but sometimes I wish they would seriously get a room. I swallow the hard lump of envy. I’m jealous of the affection and the chemistry. I know I’ll never want a love story like theirs, but fuck, I miss being touched and kissed by someone. I don’t do serious relationships for good reasons, but it still leaves a longing for connection. Cam looks down at Dylan tucked into his side and whispers something in her ear, and by the instant shade of pink spreading across my best friend’s face and the way she gently slaps his stomach tells me that I’m going to have another restless night.
Dylan spots me walking over and breaks away from Cam’s tight embrace, he still keeps a hand resting on her leg, which I find endearing. I can tell he cares about her a lot, and frankly she deserves it after she wasted two years of her life with the biggest douchebag back in Boston.
“Hey, how was your day?” Dylan asks as I lean down over her, giving her a quick hug.
Cam gives me a small smile, he’s not one for hugging or smiling much.
“Yeah, it was good, I’ve started on the basics. And Rabbie has started fattening me up with all of his yummy food. I’ll have to start running longer than five miles a day.”
I look back over at the bar to find Rabbie ordering drinks, and chatting away to the locals. I can tell he’s so admired in this small town, everyone always looks so happy to see him. His tall, lean frame towers over most people as he shakes hands with Mac behind the bar.
My mind flicks back to the other night when I was alone, picturing Rabbie’s large hands running all over my body. My face flushes and the heat between my legs ignites. I blink away the dirty thoughts running wild in my head.
“Aye, I canny resist one of Rabbie’s famous scones, with jam and cream.” Cam chuckles.
Cam is usually very quiet and reserved, but he lights up whenever he talks about the people he loves, and clearly, Rabbie is one of them. I can see that Cam is proud of Rabbie, but he is also very protective of his best friend, who is practically his brother. Dylan told me that Rabbie had a crappy childhood and his parents weren’t around, but she didn’t go into too many details.
I picture Rabbie as a small boy, lonely and craving love, and my heart breaks for him. That thought is soon broken when I spot him walking over with a tray of drinks and a beaming smile across his face. Fuck, he’s so sexy.
He squeezes right down next to me and his solid, round shoulder bumps into mine. I can feel the heat radiating from his body, and there’s nothing more I’d like to do than run my nails down his muscular back. He hands me a pint of the gross beer that looks and tastes like pond water. A small chuckle escapes his lips, I’m guessing from the disgusted look on my face.
“You canny hate it that much,” he raises his eyebrow at me with a playful smirk on his face. He takes a sip of his beer, and his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. What I would give to run a trail of kisses down his neck. I catch myself staring at him, and avert my eyes before anyone catches on that I’m eye fucking my boss, client, whatever you wanna call him. I fidget in my seat, being in close quarters with him is making me antsy.
“Well, you’ve clearly never been to Boston and had a Ward Eight,” I sigh at the thought.
He licks the foam from his lips, and I wish I didn’t see it because it’s not helping the raging heat between my legs. “A what?” He looks at me confused.
“It’s a cocktail, made from rye whisky with lemon and orange juice and a splash of grenadine,” my mouth salivates at the thought. As soon as the words come out of my mouth, I realise how pretentious and snobby it sounds.
Rabbie looks at me with one eyebrow raised, with a small grin on his face. “Well, you won’t find any fancy cocktails here.”
“Yep, I can tell from the demographic.” I say as I look around the pub at all the locals. Rabbie lets out a small humming noise in agreement, and my body tingles from the soft low tone.
“Ye like whisky, then? You should’ve said, that’s the second drink Mac serves here. But it won’t be like the rye stuff you drink, and without all that sugary juice. It’s proper Scottish whisky,” he says with pride.
“I’d drink anything that’s not this shit,” I hold up the beer and wrinkle my nose.
Rabbie bursts into hysterics, and his infectious laugh grabs the attention of Cam and Dylan who look at Rabbie as if he’s grown another head. They both mutter something to each other that I didn’t quite hear. His booming laugh grabs the attention of a couple of the locals who look over at our table, being nosy. I try to bite back a big smile on my lips but his laugh is too contagious and I can’t help but laugh along with him.
“I’ll go get you a wee dram of whisky, ya country pumpkin,” he nudges me again with his shoulder.
He stands and wanders back over to the bar before I can correct him on the wrongness of the saying, and to tell him to never call me that again. I watch him as he strides to the bar to order me a glass of whisky, and I get a good glimpse of his beautiful physique.
He’s tall and lean, and he easily towers over most of the people in the pub. His shoulders are broad and rounded, and his shaggy blonde hair stands out against a sea of red-heads and brunettes. He walks with ease, and enthusiasm like he’s not in a rush to get anywhere, just taking it all in. On his way to the bar, he’s stopped by at least five different locals, and he stops and chats with every single one of them, giving his time to them freely.
“Typical Rabbie,” Cam smiles and shakes his head.
“What do you mean?” I ask as I turn back to Cam.
“Well, he’s the most likeable person, everyone in this town loves him. He canny go anywhere without having to stop and have a chat.” Cam points his nose in the direction of Rabbie who is now surrounded by three elderly women who are mothering him. He’s lapping up the attention, but not in an egotistical way, but in a modest way. He genuinely looks happy to be there.
I turn to find Dylan eyeing me with a smirk, we’ve been friends for so long, we have developed our own silent communication. I widen my eyes at her to tell I have no idea what is going on. Did he just call me pumpkin? He’s buying me a drink, what does that mean? He nudged my shoulder again, surely he’s into me? Dylan and I will definitely be talking about this on our run tomorrow.
We used to run together everyday in Boston, so it’s nice that we’ve picked it up again here. I’ve been running extra miles because the food here in autumn and winter consists of hearty, fatty stews or sweet and sugary baked goods. I take huge pride in my appearance, but I also can’t say no to yummy, heartwarming food. I try to remind myself it’s all about balance, but my mama’s criticisms bounce around in my head. Try not to eat too much bread. Make sure you’re eating your veggies. Don’t drink too much.
I try to shake the thoughts of my judgemental mother, and spot Rabbie returning with a tray of drinks. He sits back down next to me. He has a big, wide grin on his face as he hands me a glass of whisky.
“Here you go, pumpkin, or was it bumpkin?” He shakes his head with a big smirk.
I laugh as I take the glass from him, our fingers lightly brush, and a surge of heat travels through my body. His eyes linger on me a little too long, and I can’t work out if he is a happy-go-lucky guy or if he’s interested in me. The moment quickly evaporates when Hamish and Fiona arrive, and Rabbie jumps up to greet his best friends. Rabbie being the nice person he is, offers Fiona the seat next to me, and he scoots over to the bench seat with Hamish. Now positioned at the end of the table, it looks like my chances of flirting with him are impossible.
When I arrived in Crossmackie, Dylan caught me up with the group dynamics and who’s who. Cam and Hamish MacTavish are brothers, Rabbie and Fiona know them from going to school together. Cam is older by a couple of years, so he’s seen as the big brother of the group, and Rabbie and Fiona are the same age as Hamish. Rabbie spent most of his time at Thistle Down Farm because his parents were never around, and he didn’t have any siblings. And Fiona, used to tag along with Rabbie, they’ve all been friends since they were kids. But Hamish and Fiona are super close, they practically do everything together except have sex. Dylan thinks they both have feelings for each other, but neither one of them has acted on it.
“What’s Rabbie like as a boss, Crystal?” Hamish asks as his head jerks.
Dylan told me that Hamish has a tic and stutter from a head injury he suffered when he was a teenager. It’s barely noticeable, but I can tell he gets a little self-conscious about it and tries to not draw too much attention to himself, especially around people he doesn’t know.
“Well, he’s terrible, awful, a real tyrant,” I smile as I take a sip of my whisky. I look at Rabbie who looks genuinely troubled but when I wink at him, he bursts into roaring laughter. Everyone joins in because they know how crazy that sounds, how someone as sweet as Rabbie could be a tyrant.
“No, I’m joking. He’s the best, although he needs to stop bringing me delicious food and drinks every hour. I will need to run every day to keep the weight off.” I smile over at him. Rabbie frowns at me, I find this puzzling because he’s been nothing but smiles since we got here.
“That’s Rabbie’s love language, he loves to give,” Fiona chirps in.
I know what I’d like to get off him.
“Aww, thanks, Fi,” Rabbie coos at her.
We spend the rest of the evening getting to know one another, and I start to realise why Dylan wanted to stay here. The group has been nothing but welcoming and kind, but small town life isn’t for me. My mission is to get this website done, and get back to the hustle and bustle of Boston.
Listening to old stories of Rabbie growing up and his awkward emo teenage years had us all laughing until our bellies hurt. Rabbie didn’t once feel embarrassed or annoyed that we were laughing at his expense, he was laughing along with us. Usually, the men I tend to hook up with have too much pride and an ego the size of Scotland. They were too serious to joke around, especially about themselves. The metropolitan men of Boston only care about two things, business and hooking up with the hottest women. It’s refreshing to see how laid back Rabbie is, he’s probably the most authentic person I’ve ever met.
After another round of drinks, we’re all ready to call it a night. We all step out into the cold night air, and a gust of wind freezes me to the bone. I tuck my hands into my jacket, and spot Rabbie smirking at me.
“Good night, see you in the morning,” he smiles at me.
“See you tomorrow.” I say back with a stupid grin on my face. I suddenly feel self-conscious. How has a guy I haven’t even kissed got me smiling like a goon.
Rabbie wanders over to Dylan, who is standing snuggling into Cam to keep warm. He leans in and kisses her on the cheek to say goodbye. The jealousy runs thick through my veins, and I can’t help but feel envious that he doesn’t say goodbye to me that way. My eyes are glued to him, watching him stroll down the street towards Sweet Treats.
“You coming, Crystal,” Dylan says as I snap out of my begrudging daze.
“Yeah, sorry, was miles away. I didn’t realise how exhausted I am.”
Me, Dylan and Cam wave goodbye to Hamish and Fiona, who are walking away in a different direction. Dylan told me that Fiona lives in the little flat above the shop, Bits and Bobs. And Hamish the gentleman that he is walks her the short distance home every night after the pub even though he lives at Thistle Down Farm.
Cam walks with his arm scooped over Dylan’s shoulder, and has her pulled in tight to keep her warm on this chilly night. I am suddenly feeling envious about their relationship, or maybe it’s the physical side of their relationship that I’m envious of. I’m not ashamed to admit it but, I love sex. I wouldn’t call myself an addict, but I love the chemistry between two people, and the rush it gives me when you’re tangled up with someone in bed. Believe me, I’ve had some duds, but I’ve also had some mind-blowing one night stands. I spot Cam’s hand resting on Dylan’s ass as they walk along, and it stirs something up inside me. I need to get laid. It’s been a while since I last had sex, and I’m not even close to figuring out if Rabbie is attracted to me.
The three of us arrive back at Thistle Down Farm in no time. The cottage is cosy and warm, from the fire smouldering in the living room. My pathetic looking airbed lies on the floor in front of it. Dylan insisted I stayed with her and Cam whilst I was here and I’m regretting giving in to her. I would kill for a proper bed, and some privacy. We just got through the door before Dylan and Cam hurriedly say goodnight, and rush off to bed.
My body is aching from sitting at my laptop all day, and I can’t wait to lie down, even if it is on the shitty air bed. After taking care of my night time routine, I finally sink into the air bed, and lay awake staring up at the ceiling. The night replays in my head, and I think of all the little moments I had with Rabbie, and how confusing it is to be in the situation. It’s not very hard for me to pick up guys, but Rabbie seems like a complex puzzle that I can’t figure out. My eyes finally feel heavy enough, and my eyes are barely closed when I hear soft moans coming from the bedroom. An exasperated groan leaves my lips as I roll over and stuff a pillow on top of my head, squeezing my eyes shut. Jesus, I thought I loved sex, but Cam and Dylan go at it like rabbits. Seriously, I wish they wouldn’t, not at least whilst I’m sharing a wall with them.
My mind wanders to Rabbie again, what I’d do to be in his bed right now. His sage green eyes scanning over my naked body, and his large smooth hands running wild, making me tingle in all the right places. The ache between my legs is growing more intense by the day. I try to fall asleep, alone with only my wild, sex-crazed imagination.