6. Rabbie
6
Rabbie
It’s another normal morning in the bakery , I wake up before sunrise and head down to the kitchen to start making a fresh batch of scones for the day. Usually this task should be simple and straightforward for me to complete, hell I’ve done it hundreds of times. I could do this in my sleep, but this morning, I’m distracted. I haven’t been able to take my mind off that pretty, little cowgirl who happens to be my employee. Last night was nice adding Crystal to our little group. I love my friends, but it’s refreshing to have someone new to talk to. The playful banter between us was magnetic, and Crystal’s outgoing personality had me laughing most of the night. I can’t remember the last time I’d laughed that much.
I’ve been feeling apprehensive all morning, and I’ve already messed up a batch of scones. Feeling slightly frustrated that I can’t settle my mind, I head out the back to get some fresh air. I lean against the wall, close my eyes and take in a lung full of the crisp Scottish air. I do this a lot, it helps ground me, and calms my mind. There isn’t anywhere else on earth that I’d rather be than here in Crossmackie standing outside my wee bakery. My meditative state is broken when Nellie and David arrive for the morning, I hear them come through the front, arguing in their twin language.
I love them to pieces, but they are always bickering about something, as siblings do. I don’t have any siblings, but I treat them as if they were my wee brother and sister.
Nellie pops her head out the back door of the kitchen. “Oh, there you are.”
“Morning, Nell. What are you two arguing about now?” I push off the wall and head back inside the kitchen.
“David is delusional. He thinks Crystal fancies him,” she rolls her eyes at me.
I fight back the laughter that nearly forced its way out. That’s impossible. Well, I don’t think she fancies him. He’s way too young for her, although I don’t really know her that well. Surely, she wouldn’t go for someone like David, I mean don’t get me wrong, he’s a good-looking lad, but I don’t think he’s Crystal’s type.
“I reckon, I’ve got a chance. What do you reckon, Rabbie?” David wiggles his eyebrows at me.
I don’t want to be harsh and crush the laddie’s hopes, but I don’t want to encourage him either. A stream of jealousy runs through me. I shouldn’t be jealous, but I am.
“Best to keep it professional, she’s working with us until the website is done.” I tell David.
When deep down, I’m telling myself this.
David frowns at me because I’m not really the type of boss to tell my employees what to do, but this I have to make clear. I’m trying to keep it strictly business myself, which I’m failing miserably at because no boss should be thinking this much about their employee. I need to set an example and hold myself and my staff accountable.
Our conversation is cut short when we hear the front door of the cafe open. We’re not open yet so it could be only a handful of people, and by the sound of the clacking on the wooden floors, my guess is that it’s Crystal in those sexy little cowboy boots.
David’s eyes widen, and he quickly runs to the back of the kitchen where I keep all the deliveries and starts to take them outside to load them in the van. I knew he wouldn’t have the courage to even be around Crystal, let alone ask her out. Nellie shakes her head at her brother’s cowardly face and laughs.
I’m about to ask Nellie to make Crystal’s coffee and take it out to her when she wanders off to the storeroom to check the inventory. I’m trying to avoid Crystal this morning because last night at the pub felt too easy to be around her, and I can’t get involved with her like that.
Today, I don’t need the distraction. I’m stressed out with how rapidly my business is growing, and I can’t afford to make any more mistakes. I pull myself together and tell myself that she would never be interested in me even if I were capable of making a move, which I’m not.
I head into the front of the cafe to find Crystal at her usual table, slumped in the chair with her forehead resting on top of the table. I find this perplexing because she’s usually put together and composed.
“Good morning, too much whisky last night?”
She didn’t seem drunk last night, and I only saw her drink two drams of whisky. Crystal lifts her head, and her bloodshot eyes are glazed over. She looks tired.
“Nope, not hungover. Just very tired, another sleepless night at the cottage. I even skipped my run this morning. You don’t do coffee by IV do you?”
At least she’s still sharp and witty even when she’s tired. I can’t help but smirk at her smart remarks.
“I’ll go make you a coffee.”
Her forehead is still resting on the table. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
I rush back to the coffee machine, and make two large black coffees, extra strong, and load a plate with a healthy granola bar. I make my way back to the table, my eyes are fixated on Crystal yawning and stretching, trying to wake herself up. Why is everything that she does so fucking cute?
She’s rocking the usual attire today, large oversized sweater, denim shorts and her signature cowboy boots.
“Here, I made two coffees to get you started, and I’ll make sure Nellie keeps you topped up.”
I place the coffees and the granola bar in front of her. This is where I should’ve turned around and got back to work, I have a never ending list of jobs. But I find myself unconsciously sitting down across from her, like a moth drawn to a flame.
Crystal takes one look at the granola bar and picks it up and smiles.
“I remember you saying that I was fattening you up, that’s the healthiest thing I make.”
I lied, I stayed up late last night and made them just for her. I didn’t like hearing the way she spoke about her weight, she’s tiny as it is. There’s nothing wrong with indulging in things that make you happy. But if it was making her uncomfortable eating the stuff that she thought was bad for her, then I would try to make her feel good about herself in some way, like making these granola bars for her.
“Rabbie, you are too thoughtful,” she yawns again, all this yawning she’s doing is starting to make me feel tired.
“So, still not sleeping well at Thistle Down?”
“Nope. I shouldn’t be so ungrateful. Cam and Dylan have been great hosts, but their late night sexcapades are making it hard for me to fall asleep. I miss my bed too, I might as well be sleeping on the floor, the air bed is that shit.”
I’m taken aback by how openly she can talk about sex. I wouldn’t call myself a prude, but I would like to say that I’m a private person, especially when it comes to sex. I shift in my seat, feeling uncomfortable.
Crystal’s moss green eyes are twinkling at me as she sips her coffee, and I notice a small smirk on her face. I think she enjoys making people uncomfortable with her brashness.
“I think I’m just envious they’re having great sex, whilst I’m stuck on a blow up air mattress in their living room,” she says as matter of fact.
I feel the heat rush up my legs, and straight to my groin. So much for keeping it professional. Feeling betrayed by my mind, and shocked by Crystal’s openness, I struggle to find the words to speak, so I gawp at her instead.
She bites the inside of her mouth, and my eyes gravitate to her mouth. Her plump lips are full and rosy with a soft red tint to them. They look as soft as the sugary sweet pastries that I bake, and I wonder what it would be like to kiss her. Her eyes have a thin eyeliner with a little wing that makes her already cat-shaped eyes more pronounced. For someone who is exhausted and hasn’t slept well, she still manages to look beautiful.
I just gave David a lecture about keeping things professional. And here I am with a semi hard cock, gawking at her. I’m such a hypocrite.
I’m still processing the topic of conversation we were having when Nellie wanders out from the kitchen and starts to set up in the front. She turns on the music and interrupts the moment Crystal and I were just having, and a wave of relief washes over me. I jump up from the table and practically run back to the kitchen. I need to focus, I have so many orders to make, and now all I can think about is Crystal and how good she would look on her knees, with her plump lips wrapped around my cock.
* * *
I spent the rest of the day rushed off my feet. I should be grateful that my business is doing so well, but I’ve been riddled with anxiety since the pile of orders doesn’t seem to be going down. I can’t seem to get ahead, and it’s very overwhelming. The imposter syndrome is hitting me hard, never in my wildest dream did I think my adult life would be so successful. The seed of doubt starts to form in my head, and I question whether I’m good enough to do this.
I try not to get in my own head too much. I don’t function well when my head tells me I’m not good enough. The trauma from my mum leaving me when I was a wee lad slowly creeps up on me, and I struggle to keep it at bay. My dad was never really around, I know who he is, but he didn’t want the responsibility of being a father. My mum and dad had such a toxic relationship they were always breaking up and getting back together.
When he was around, he would constantly tell me that I was never good enough and that they didn’t want me. I’m not really sure how my mum felt, but she went along with him in fear of making him mad. So eventually he’d talked her into leaving me with my Nan. She essentially picked him over me.
I remember it as if it was yesterday, my mum dropping me off at my Nan’s house with a trash bag full of everything I owned, which wasn’t much. I remember asking her when she’d be back, and she didn’t answer me. She couldn’t even look at me. I grabbed on to her so tight that she had to peel my fingers off her jacket. I screamed and cried, begging her not to leave me. But she did. I saw her now and then when she’d come to my Nan’s house asking to borrow money. She never really acknowledged me, or asked how I was doing. She just wanted money, not me.
But when my Nan kept turning her away, she’d stopped coming. I haven’t seen her since I was eighteen, and by that point I was so angry and resentful I didn’t want to see her anyway.
Every time she would show up unexpectedly, the little boy inside me was so hopeful that she was coming back for me, I would get a rush of giddiness that she really did miss me, but she never came for me.
I remembered that we used to live a couple of towns away from Crossmackie, and I went there one day after school when I was fifteen. I took the bus and walked down the street trying to remember what number house we lived in. When I finally remembered the house, I knocked on the door, my whole body vibrating from so many emotions - anger, anticipation, frustration and excitement. I stood there, which felt like an eternity, trying to keep my breathing under control.
When the woman answered the door, it wasn’t my mum. I was sad and relieved to find out that they had moved. The owner of the house didn’t know where they had moved to, so I don’t know where my parents live to this day.
I don’t know what I was expecting when I went there, maybe some foolish part of me was hoping that she still lived there and that she would invite me in, and we’d put everything behind us.
I don’t really care for my dad, he was always vicious and nasty towards me. I think I could forgive my mum if the opportunity came. When my dad wasn’t around, she was a different person, she was sweet and kind to me. But when he was around, she would ignore me and act like I didn’t exist. I was angry and bitter for so long in my teenage years, but I’ve learnt to let all that go and move on with my life. The only important person in my life is my Nan, she is the reason I am where I am today, if it wasn’t for her, I’d likely be in prison or dead. She’s a tender, caring woman, but she’s stern with me when I need a kick up the arse. She knew how broken I was when my mum left me with her, and did everything in her power to heal me, and she did in a way. She also lost her daughter that day, and I’d like to think that I helped her heal too.
I have my Nan, the MacTavish brothers, Fiona, and all the locals of Crossmackie for taking me under their wing and loving me the way I should’ve been loved. That’s why I love this small town so much, and why I always have time for the locals because they genuinely care about me, and I care about them all, a lot.
I need a distraction, and I know exactly the person who will take my mind off the past. I finally have a moment to step out of the kitchen and into the front of the cafe, it’s after lunch, and it’s finally slowing down. The cafe is pretty much empty except for a couple of tables.
I find her sitting at her usual table, she has that cute little frown on her face when she’s trying to concentrate on her laptop. I have the urge to rub my thumb over the crease between her eyes and ease some of the tension. She looks tired, a pang of sympathy runs through me. I have the overwhelming need to look after her.
I grab a teapot from the shelf and make a pot of tea, and load the tray with milk, sugar and shortbread biscuits. She finally looks up from her laptop as I walk over to the table, and I can see how exhausted she looks.
“Are you okay, mo beag ?”
I don’t know why I spoke to her in Gaelic, it just slipped out. But the frown between her eyes has gone, and she’s blinking up at me in surprise.
“I brought you some tea, and shortbread.” I place the tray on the table as she closes her laptop.
“Thank you, I could use a break,” she sighs.
I sit down across from her, and pour her a cup while she watches me intently.
“I didn’t know you could speak Gaelic, I thought it was a dying language.”
“Aye, only a few of us left in the village can speak it. We don’t speak it often, it just kinda slipped out.” I feel the heat rise up my face.
“You should speak it more often. It sounds lovely.” Her feline shaped eyes look less tired now.
I hand her the cup of tea, and she grabs it from me, our hands linger too long. A zip of energy runs through me.
“How are you getting on?” I ask, trying to break the weird tension between.
“Yeah, it’s going fine. I didn’t expect to be this tired. Over the next couple of days, I would love to take some photos for the website. Just of you working in the kitchen, and some of your baked goods that you sell,” she takes a sip of her tea, and her shoulders relax an inch.
“Pictures of me?” I suddenly feel apprehensive.
“You’re the business owner, it would be good for the website. It would make it more personal, but only if you’re okay with it.”
I feel slightly uncomfortable with the idea of my picture being taken, I don’t have any pictures of me when I was a baby or a wee lad. I only have memories of my picture being taken at school and later on in life as an adult. I don’t exactly scream confidence.
“Er, yeah, that should be okay.” I try to not sound anxious, but Crystal sees straight through me.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take candid ones, you won’t even notice I’m taking pictures. It won’t be awkward, I promise,” she reassures me.
“Thanks.” I smile at her.
She lets out a soft, low yawn, and her cute little crease between her eyes is back. The nurturer in me wants to make her feel comfortable and happy. I’m trying my hardest to keep it strictly business, or at least platonic between us. But seeing her this tired and not her usual self has me feeling guilty.
“I hope you don’t find this weird and you can say no if you don’t feel comfortable. But I have a spare room in my flat above the cafe and I know you’re not sleeping great at Thistle Down Farm. You’re welcome to stay with me until you finish the website.”
Crystal blinks at me, and I can’t quite read the look on her face. It looks like a mixture of confusion and disbelief.
“Hold on a second. You’re telling me you’ve had a spare room this whole time whilst I’ve been sleeping on a blow up air bed and listening to my best friend have sex every night?”
I think the sleep deprivation has kicked in as she looks at me with a crazed look.
“Sorry, I should’ve said something earlier, but I thought you would want to stay with Dylan, and not a random guy you’d just met,” I shrug.
She starts to laugh, and I worry she’s gone completely mad from the lack of sleep.
“I would ditch Dylan in a heartbeat if it meant I would get to sleep in a comfy bed, and not have to listen to my friend go at it like a rabbit,” she laughs, and takes a sip of tea.
“So, is that a yes?” I ask, feeling nervous.
“Only if you don’t mind, I promise I’m a clean and quiet roommate,” she puts the emphasis on the word quiet as she smirks at me. The tired look has completely gone from her soft face.
“Yeah, of course. I just have to check with Edie though, but I’m sure it’s fine. Come on, I’ll show you the room.”
“Who’s Edie?” she asks, looking slightly confused.
“Only the most important woman in my life, she’s upstairs I’ll introduce you.” I stand from the table and wave at her to follow me.