Chapter 7
7
Holly
It’s so good to be wearing my own clothes again. My bags were delivered yesterday, shortly after Aaron found me in the housecoat. How’s that for karma? They couldn’t have delivered them ten minutes earlier. They did, however, interrupt the “kiss conversation” and allow me to walk away with my pride still intact. I’m proud of myself for not begging Aaron to tell me what was on his mind or for asking for a re-do of that kiss. I was so blown away by the fact that he was kissing me that I forgot to brand every moment into my brain.
I’ve just swallowed a bit of my poached egg when Aaron comes into the dining room, sweat-soaked and out of breath. Holy tapered waist. And abs. And pecs. As much as I would like to say I’m not fantasising about being the reason he looks that way, I can’t. Because hot damn. He’s either very disciplined or clinically insane to be running in this weather. Sure, after yesterday’s snow it’s a beautiful day outside with only the muddy earth to show for the snow—I guess Aaron was right; as soon as it stops snowing, everything does turn to sludge—but it’s still freezing, and he’s shirtless. Does he run shirtless, or did he take the shirt off when he got in? I’m so lost in thought about the whole shirtless situation that I don’t realise he is moving closer. To me, it’s like I’m zooming in rather than he’s moving closer. I also realise with mortifying clarity that I’m staring shamelessly at him.
“You done objectifying me?”
Right now, I would not complain if the floor opened up and swallowed me whole, but I refuse to show Aaron I’m rattled.
“Just thinking about that saying…what is it now? Oh right, there’s no feeling where there’s no sense.”
He chuckles and gives me a look that says, ‘I hear you, but I’m not buying it.’
Why is he always so damn sexy? It really isn’t fair to my poor ovaries.
Aaron pulls out a chair and sits down, snagging a piece of toast from the basket on the table. He takes a bite and leans back. Swallowing, he says, “You’re up early. I thought you would’ve had a wee lie-in?”
I smile at his use of the word “wee”. My parents always use it, but it’s cute coming from him. His accent has definitely gotten stronger since he’s been back, and it’s sexy as all hell.
“I thought I’d get started on earning my keep.”
“You can have a couple of days to acclimatise. I’m not that much of a slave driver.”
The truth is, I wanted to get stuck in. It may or may not have anything to do with wanting to be around Aaron, but spending the day getting training from him on how to tend a bar felt like a good way to start my time here in Scotland. Of course, I don’t say any of this to him.
“I don’t mind. It will keep me out of trouble.”
He shoots me a raised eyebrow. “Somehow, I doubt that.”
I laugh. “Fair point.”
When he joins me in my laughter, it hits me straight in the girl bits, and I’m sure I’ll never get used to how that sound makes me feel. “That’s a better outfit of choice than the one you had on yesterday.” He looks pointedly at the skinny black jeans and pink sweater I have on.
“I don’t know. I was thinking of asking your mum to go shopping with me to buy a few housecoats of my own.”
“I think not, Trouble. As your boss, I’d have to veto that idea.”
I smile. “Not up to scratch with the pub dress code?”
“Not for you, it isn’t.”
I frown, wondering what he means by that.
“If you’re serious about getting started right away, I’m going to open up the pub after my shower.”
I wish he hadn’t mentioned the shower, because now I’m picturing him fully naked with steaming water running over his abs. Abs that made him famous in uni. Well, that’s not entirely true. His incredible rugby talent made him famous, but I think the majority of the Wits student body as well as the faculty wept when Aaron left. It was a habit of his to take his shirt off as soon as he was done with a match. I swear, it was like every woman in the stadium let out a collective sigh when he did that.
When I come back to earth, Aaron is staring at me expectantly. Oh shit, not again. “Hmmm? What?”
“I said I’d be back shortly. You’re welcome to take a tour of the pub while you wait. I already unlocked it.”
“Thanks.”
As Aaron heads out, I collect the dishes and walk to the kitchen. If Mary continues to pile food on my plate like she did this morning, I’m going to have to think about joining Aaron on his morning runs. Finding the kitchen empty gives me an opportunity to wash my own dishes. Last night, I tried to do the dishes after dinner, and Mary gave me a talking-to. Even though Aaron and Mary have been very gracious, I still feel like a burden. Maybe burden isn’t the right word, but I’m acutely aware that I’ll be living here for free for the next month and a half, and due to my home life and always feeling like we were paupers, it makes me uncomfortable to accept things for nothing. It doesn’t matter that I’m going to be helping in the pub during the busiest times, I still don’t think it’s enough for all they’re doing for me. I mean, a suite? That’s quite a loss of income.
As I start running water into the sink, Mary comes into the kitchen. “What the bloody hell is going on in here? Don’t you even think about washing those dishes.”
I snap my head up as if I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t. I guess having just had some pervy thoughts about her son will do that to me. “It will only take me a minute?—”
“Now listen to me, Holly Campbell. We may have moved countries, but not much has changed since you were knee-high to a grasshopper. I still don’t like people in my kitchen, so off you go.”
“But—”
“But nothing. Off you go.” She gives me a look that would turn Medusa to stone and shoos me away with her ever-present dish towel.
At home, if you mess, you clean up, so I’m not comfortable letting Mary clean up after me, but her face says she means business, and I’ve been swatted enough with that dish towel to lean on self-preservation. So, I walk over to Mary and give her a kiss on the cheek.
“Breakfast was delicious, thank you.”
She nods in that brisk way of hers. “Now off with you. I’ve got work to do.”
If you didn’t know Mary, you would think the softest thing about her was her teeth. I know under her hard exterior is a woman who loves fiercely and fully.
The doors to the pub are open, and as I approach, I can already pick up subtle hints of stale beer and lemon pledge. It surprises me that the smell doesn’t trigger me, especially when it does back home. I can’t count the number of times we were dragged to the hotel bars with my parents as kids. The seedier the place, the less likely they were to enforce rules about children under eighteen being allowed in bars. So, we’d be sat down on a couch with a bottle of coke and enough money for a packet of sweets. Promises of a “last beer” fell on deaf ears because we knew better, followed by a hair-raising car ride home with my drunk father at the wheel. When we had a car, that is. When we didn’t, we could look forward to a long walk home long after midnight and often in the cold.
My first thought as I entered the pub is how clean everything is. Even the brass handles on the windows and doors are polished to a reflective shine. A large bar taking up the wall to the right houses about eight bar stools. At least thirty pendant lights hang over the length of the bar. The bare bulbs give an industrial feel to the décor.
Faded dark brown leather sofas span the left side while round tables to seat four dot the room. I walk over to the large alcove next to the mass of paned windows and see an area with a large pool table. It’s been years since I’ve played pool, and it’s the only good thing that came from spending all those days in the pub. When it was quiet, we were allowed to play a few games of pool. I got good at it and used to wipe the floor with the regulars. Yeah, we learned some valuable gambling lessons in our youth.
When I turn back to the window to gaze at the view, I scream and jump back, clutching my chest.
In the window is a weathered-looking old man with a tweed cap on his head and a puzzled look on his face. He screams just as loudly as I do. Between the two of us, there is screaming and hands flailing. I bash my hip into a chair, its legs scraping against wood sounds as bad as nails on a chalkboard in my current state.
Aaron comes running in, his hair still wet from the shower. “What’s going on? Holly, are you okay?”
I rub my arm furiously, trying to dispel the chill. “There’s a man staring in the window.”
Aaron’s look of concern moves into understanding when he looks out the window. “Oh, that’s George. He’s come to help me train you today. Looks like you scared the life out of him.”
“Me? He’s the one staring creepily through the window.”
“George is as soft as a baby’s arse. He wouldn’t harm a fly.” He waves at George and makes his way to the door.
“I blame you for my irrational fear of people staring in the windows. Remember that time Spence convinced you to wear that old man mask when we just moved into the house on Railway Avenue? I thought I was going to die.”
Aaron laughs. “I’d forgotten about that. Didn’t you pee your pants? That was honestly the highlight of my day. You really looked terrified.”
“So long as you know I’ll never forgive you for that.”
“Come on, Holly, you know you love me.”
As soon as he says it, a weird expression passes over his face that I can’t quite place. It looks like he wishes he could swallow his words. But then again, my track record of knowing what Aaron’s expressions mean has proved to be rather unreliable.
Since he looks like he needs a change of subject, I say, “I thought you said you expected me to have the day off?”
“I did, but when you agreed to start today, I gave George a call.”
“Wow, that was quick.”
Aaron nods as he makes his way to the door leading outside. “George lives three houses down. But he’d be here in the same amount of time if he’d lived in Edinburgh Castle if it meant getting free beer.”
I look at the beautiful brass clock in the corner. “But it’s only eight in the morning.”
A sad expression crosses Aaron’s features. “Lots of the guys you’ll meet today already have a couple of beers in before they get here in the mornings.”
I frown. “Doesn’t it bother you that you’re enabling them?” I can’t help the question that pops out of my mouth, but I regret it when I see the conflicted look on Aaron’s face.
“It does, but if they aren’t getting the beers from here, they’re getting them elsewhere, and they usually don’t get a free meal to go with it.”
“Free meal?”
“Yeah, Mam uses a percentage of the money we get to cook a pub lunch for the guys. It means a smaller margin on our profits, but it helps to alleviate the guilt some. At least we know if they’re here and eating together, they will get a meal in. Some don’t worry about food when they drink.”
I’ve distracted Aaron from opening the door for George, so when another rap, more impatient this time, comes from the door, Aaron hustles over to open up.
When he opens the door, George shoots him a smile. “I thought you were going to leave me out there to catch my death, laddie. But now that I can get a proper look at your bonnie lassie here, I understand why you were distracted.”