Leilah drew up in front of the house and slammed the ute door, hearing the springs ping back into place on the driver’s seat. Vaughan leaned with his bum against the fence, calling instructions to a small female who trotted around the paddock on the chestnut mare Corey liked. A smart SUV occupied the space in front of the porch steps and Leilah stood for a moment, watching as Vaughan walked towards the girl saying something about her reins. “They look like washing lines,” she said out loud, doing an impression of his deep voice and guessing what he might be saying.
“Pardon?” A tall, blonde man stepped from the other side of the SUV, hands pushed into expensive trouser pockets and a golf shirt covering a slender chest.
“Oh, nothing.” Leilah felt embarrassed and dipped her head, running up the porch steps to the house.
“Don’t suppose I can use your bathroom.” The man bit his lip and Leilah sized him up. He didn’t look like a threat to her well-being but natural wariness made her pause.
“I guess so,” she said. “But I don’t know what state it’s in.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m desperate enough not to care.” He smiled and green eyes sparkled from wide sockets.
Leilah nodded. “Ok. You’ll just have to close your eyes if the boys have messed it up. I can vouch it looked fine this morning, but I’ve been out.”
She waved a hand towards the long hallway and watched as the visitor removed his genuine leather shoes and padded to the bathroom. When Leilah heard the door close she relaxed and filled the kettle, slapping a tea bag into a mug and sniffing the lidless bottle of milk from the fridge. The toilet flushed and the man padded back, thanking her and eyeing the mug.
Leilah smiled and waited for him to leave, not liking a stranger in her space. “Do you live here?” he asked with forced chattiness, pushing his shoe around with his toe.
“For the moment.” Leilah’s guard slammed the blank mask over her face, praying he wasn’t a journalist looking for Dee Hanover and his next big scoop. She turned her back on him and poured boiling water into the mug, keeping the kettle within reach in case she needed a ready weapon.
“My wife and I divorced earlier this year. I brought my daughter here for a holiday and she loves horses. The lady at the bed-and-breakfast recommended Vaughan for a few lessons.”
Leilah turned towards him and fixed a wooden smile on her face, not wanting to scare away an income stream for her friend. “Would you like tea?” she asked, the words sticking in her throat. “I can bring it to you outside.”
To her alarm, the man plonked himself on Vaughan’s sofa, facing the French doors and the mountainous view. “That would be wonderful,” he replied.
Leilah made the drink he chose; tea with a splash of milk and half a teaspoon of sugar. Handing it over, she made sure not to touch the manicured fingers. She hovered by the doors with one eye on Vaughan, unnerved by the man’s self-assured calm, her own drink clutched in her hand. Her mind raced, wondering when she became so afraid of men in general. She’d been fearful of Michael since the first time he slapped her after a night out with his mates, but Harvey’s behaviour had tipped the scales into paranoia. Leilah flared her nostrils and took deep breaths as the man droned on about his failed marriage and the effect on his daughter.
“I’m sure she’ll get over it,” she said, alarmed at the lack of sympathy in her voice. Leilah waved her half-empty mug around the lounge. “I really should get on and I’m sure Vaughan would rather you watched your daughter ride. You might have some comments to add.”
The man twisted his mouth in something like regret and put his mug on the breakfast bar. “Thank you for your hospitality,” he said and Leilah detected no sarcasm in his face. He shuffled back into the designer shoes and turned at the door, his hand on the knob. She took an instinctive step back. “I’m looking for a place to buy in the town.” He fixed her with a steady gaze. “I missed out on the place next door.”
Leilah held her breath, her head protesting the lack of oxygen as the man stared hard at her. “What about this place? Do you think the owner would be interested in selling?”
Leilah exhaled and shrugged. “No idea.” She jerked her head towards Vaughan’s back, watching as he pulled on the rider’s heel and explained why she needed to keep her toes pointed towards the sky to stop her foot getting caught in the stirrup iron in case of a fall. “Ask him,” she said, holding the man’s gaze as he nodded and then left. The door clicked behind him and she felt sick, watching as his body disappeared behind the ute. She turned the key on the French doors, locking herself in and all threats out. She realised they’d never exchanged names and felt relieved but also discomfited. Who sat and drank tea without giving their name?
“You do,” she sighed to herself. “But you’ve got a reason to hide.”
The bathroom looked fine even to her perfectionist’s eye and Leilah laid down on the bed. Her chest still felt tight from her tears on the riverbank and the slightest hitch still reminded her of the tenuousness of her circumstances. She fell asleep and woke to the sound of knuckles rapping on glass.
Leilah sat up, her blood raging and saw Vaughan at the window. “You locked me out,” he grumbled, pressing his nose against the glass and distorting his face. Leilah tried to laugh at his antics, her body trembling as she padded back to the lounge and unlocked the door.
“Sorry,” she said and shook her head. “I didn’t like that man.” She blinked her eyes open and shut and then glanced at the wall clock. “Shit! What day is it?”
“Hey, hey, settle.” Vaughan grabbed her shoulders and his dark eyes fed calm into her soul. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m meant to sign something,” she blurted, fixing shaking fingers over his wrists.
“Not today.” Vaughan jerked his head at the clock. “Everything’s shut. It’ll have to be tomorrow now.”
Leilah recounted the day in her head, finding it hard to believe she’d only bought Hector’s house that afternoon. “You’re right, it’s tomorrow,” she breathed. “Tomorrow.”
“You’re half asleep.” Vaughan put his arm around her and pulled her into his side, kicking off his boots and leading her towards the kitchen. “I’ll make a proper home cooked dinner. Corey’s coming over in a while.” He smiled and kissed her temple and Leilah tried to banish the fog in her brain.
“Thanks. It’s been one hell of a day.” She leaned on the breakfast bar and rubbed her eyes. “That man wanted to buy this place. Did he ask you about it?”
Vaughan clattered around in a low cupboard, emerging with a huge saucepan and setting it on the hob. “No. What man?”
“The one whose daughter you gave a riding lesson. He’s here on holiday and looking for a property. He wondered if you’d sell.”
Vaughan shook his head. “He’s from Auckland; some kind of financier I think. Said nothing to me.”
“But that’s so weird.” Leilah rested her cheek on her forearms. “I sent him out to ask you.”
“Well, he didn’t.” Vaughan reached into a wooden box for fresh vegetables, running them under the tap and cleaning off the mud. Leilah puzzled over the strangeness of the encounter in her mind, wondering if Vaughan’s veiled aggression kept the businessman from broaching the question.
“How did the girl ride?” she asked, closing her eyes against the clamour in her head.
“Good.” She heard his socks swish on the floor as he turned towards her. “I don’t know why he brought her up here. She’s got her own horse and competes with the Pony Club. There’s a few bad habits with her feet and she’s too grabby with her hands but apart from that, she needed a holiday, not a riding lesson.”
“So weird,” Leilah sighed.
She looked up when Vaughan laughed, jerked awake by the sound. “You look shattered,” he said. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll shout you when dinner’s ready.”
“Na, I’m good.” Leilah sighed and reached behind her for a stool. Vaughan covered the ground between them and pulled it closer, waiting while she pushed her bottom onto the padded seat. He reached up to stroke her cheek, drawing his thumb across the soft skin under her eye. His eyes widened as she winced.
“Did Harvey hurt you?” he asked, his voice filled with emotion.
Leilah shook her head, his palm warm against her cheek. “Not Harvey, no. Someone else.”
She saw real pain in his face and was grateful when he didn’t ask. He bent his tall body and wrapped himself around her, holding her so tightly she felt as though she could break in his arms and he’d safely catch all the pieces. “I’m sorry, Lei,” he whispered, his voice muffled in her hair. “I’m so sorry.”
She swallowed, unable to make coherent sounds and Vaughan’s palms against her back seared heat through her clothes to her flesh. He smelled of dust and the sweet scent of horses, grass, sunshine and sky. His breath felt warm against her neck and the latent pilot light of desire flared, taking her by surprise.
“What’s wrong?” He heard her gasp and released his hold, tilting his body so he could read her face.
“Nothing,” she whispered and he narrowed his eyes and cocked his head at the ready lie. Leilah remembered his wife and the tragedy of her death with a flash of guilt as Vaughan brought his lips down over hers, kissing with a passionate, aching need.
It felt strange and wonderful to be kissed with such abandon and Leilah groaned as his searching fingers found their way under her shirt and fluttered over the soft skin of her back. Their teeth shunted like inexperienced teenagers and Leilah tilted her head and parted her lips so Vaughan could explore more of her. The seat creaked beneath their combined weight as he leaned harder into her and her hands found the top of his jeans and the first of the pieces of gauze over his wounds.
The French doors banged and a warm breeze rushed in, followed by Corey. “Whoa!” he exclaimed, closing his eyes and putting his hands in front of his face. “Do you want me to come back later?”
Vaughan pulled away and stood up, stamping back to the kitchen sink with an uncomfortable look on his face. His jeans looked taut around his bum from the action at the front and Leilah closed her eyes against the embarrassment. Corey stood by the front doors in the same position. “Yes? No? Don’t leave me hanging.”
“Come in, you idiot!” She wiped a hand across her mouth and glanced at the back of Vaughan’s head as Corey kicked his boots off. “Want a drink?” she asked, daring him to mention her flushed cheeks.
“Beer please.” He smirked and Leilah narrowed her eyes.
“There isn’t any.” Vaughan’s voice sounded stiff and controlled and Corey raised an eyebrow. “You invite me to dinner and there’s nothing ready.” He plied the couple with fake disdain.
“Vaughan’s making something.” Leilah tried to defend him but failed.
“Yeah, I saw that.” Corey glanced in the sink at the vegetables and pulled a face. “Pizza. I want pizza. You always make casserole.” He glanced at a cheap watch on his arm and frowned. “That won’t be ready for hours. I think I’ll go into town tonight and meet up with a few mates.” He winked at Leilah as he passed and she coloured with embarrassment. Corey exited the house with a wave and closed the door behind him.
“That was mortifying!” Leilah breathed. “Can’t he get a louder car or something?”
“He walked up from the cottage.” Vaughan chewed his lower lip and his eyes grew sultry. He dried wet hands on a tea towel and laid it on the counter with care. For an injured man he moved with surprising speed and Leilah only had time to let out a squeak and hurl herself from the stool before he made it in front of her. He blocked her exit and pushed his hands into the back of her hair.
“We can’t do this,” Leilah breathed as he bent and brushed his lips along her jaw bone. “It leads to trouble.”
Vaughan shook his head and pulled her into him, strong fingers lifting her shirt over her head and ignoring the button which skittered across the floorboards. The fabric fluttered onto the sofa behind and with astonishing deftness, he unclipped her bra without looking. Leilah’s altered breasts tumbled out, keeping their shape without the under-wire and she cringed and covered them with her hands. Vaughan groaned and ran his palms up her back, dragging his tongue across her collar bone and sucking a hickey onto the curve of her neck. There was something delicious about him marking her and staking his claim and Leilah sighed and let him. Her hands gave up the vigil on her breasts and let go, winding their way back into his shirt. Her spine arched painfully against his height as he rained kisses onto her face and lips and Leilah allowed him to stand her up and caress every inch of her as he removed her jeans and underwear.
Daylight threw cruel shadows under the scar tissue from the tummy tuck and the breast implants, but Vaughan didn’t notice or care. Their combined history made neither bed seem appropriate and so they lay on the sagging three seater sofa, making love until neither of them possessed the energy to continue. Neither spoke and afterwards they laid in silence, squashed face to face on the small seat cushions. “Please stay,” Vaughan whispered as darkness crowded into the room. “Don’t leave.”
Leilah reached up and smoothed the skin beneath his lower lip. “I’ve been away a long time. I’m not the same person who used to climb trees with a group of boys and run barefoot in the mountains. There’s so much baggage around my neck; I can hardly breathe.”
“Don’t go without speaking to me first,” he begged and she saw the hurt in his eyes.
“Is this about me or your wife?” she whispered, smoothing her thumb across his lips. Vaughan closed his eyes against her question but he didn’t pull away.
“I don’t know.” He opened them and stared into Leilah’s soul, leaving scorch marks where his fire burned her psyche. “But for now, this is about you. Don’t just walk out on me.”
Leilah nodded and allowed him to draw her into his bare chest. She twirled her fingers around the dark hairs between his muscles and enjoyed the temporary feeling of solace and safety. A possum called outside and leggy pukekos gave an answered warning, sounding the alarm around their riverside nests and hideaways. The town had snagged her again with such ease, tricking her back to her roots and holding her there. Her signature on two documents the next day would begin one life and end another and the responsibility weighed heavy on Leilah’s shoulders. She realised she didn’t know where Hector’s body lay or if he’d been scattered to the four winds by strange hands. She pictured her father’s lithe build and serious face and wondered if he’d be as disappointed with her as she believed.
Vaughan stirred and ran a speculative hand along her thigh and down her calf to her foot. His fingers caressed the socks she hadn’t taken off and his lips curved up in a smile. “I forgot how cute you are,” he whispered and his palm roved back up to her buttock. His lips sought hers in the semi darkness and he began the familiar dance again, wanting as much of Leilah as she dared to give. He lifted her thigh and wrapped it around his waist, nestling between her legs until their bodies knitted together as one. Leilah groaned and arched her back in the small space and Vaughan cupped her breast in his palm. They writhed in ecstasy and Leilah made up for twenty years of average enjoyment, crying out so loudly it sent the birds hurtling off the roof in surprise. Only after she’d come down from her high and felt the trembling of her body did she consider the consequences; realising two accidental pregnancies in one lifetime might not be a good look.