Blood in the Water (Kairos) (15 page)

At some point during the morning, Ashleigh had been too busy to define exactly when, Paul had stopped by her table and hadn’t moved on.  He’d watched her dealing with the stream of animals, disappearing only briefly to return with cold drinks for both her and Michelle. Ashleigh thought that maybe her co-worker was also developing a bit of a crush.  He’d gotten involved with some of the animals, asking proud owners questions which they were only too happy to answer.  He’d handled the tarantula without fear, which had allowed Ashleigh to check it over without having to actually touch it herself and for which she was incredibly grateful.  The spider was perhaps the only thing, living or otherwise, that could dampen Ashleigh’s appreciation of Paul’s massive hands and strong fingers.  The python had intrigued him too, until she’d reminded him that a ten foot snake would not be a welcome addition to the clubhouse.

Eventually the crowds tailed off a little, attracted more to the vendors supplying food and drink.  Ashleigh sent Michelle off to find herself some lunch and found herself alone with Paul.

“So this is what you do?”

“Yeah, this is part of it, most of it really.”  She was pleased that he’d seen her in her professional capacity, and found that the urge to gibber like the village idiot had all but disappeared as a consequence.

“What’s the other part?”  Paul seemed to be genuinely interested in her work and that felt good, really good.

“The surgery side of it.  That’s anything from hernia repair to heart surgery or wieldin’ a scalpel over Rover’s finest assets.”  She laughed at his wince and then some more at his attempt to change the subject.

“You eaten yet?”

“No.  I’ll wait ‘til Michelle gets back.”

“Well here she is.”  Ashleigh looked over to see Michelle threading her way through the crowd laden with a huge soda and a twelve-inch hotdog.

“Man I am gonna havta do some Zumba to work this off.  I didn’t get you anythin’ Ash; I figured you’d want to get your own.”

Michelle flicked her eyes in Paul’s direction as she spoke.  As subtle indications went, it was about as stealthy as an angry elephant.

Paul chuckled and addressed Michelle directly.  “Sure she does.  Think you can hold the fort while I feed her?”

“Sure, take your time.”  Michelle winked, and Ashleigh didn’t bother to hide the roll of her eyes.

She did, however, fight the urge to sigh when he put his hand on the small of her back to guide her out from behind the table.  He’d replaced his hoodie, and although he had left it unzipped it did cover the distracting muscles of his arms.

“You know I’ll never hear the end of it if I don’t get somethin’ that Tag’s burnt to a crisp.”  Ashleigh said referring to the known fact that Tag was a danger to himself and others when on grill duty.

“Yeah.  But lucky for you, your mama told him to keep his hands to himself after he cremated the first three burgers.  She put Chiz in charge, and he’s sniffed out Sinatra’s talent for flippin’ burgers.”

Paul continued to guide her through the throng until they were in front of the half an oil drum that had been bused over from the clubhouse.  Chiz had commandeered an office chair; it looked like the one that usually resided behind the reception desk.  He was still holding onto his crutches, using them to prod a resigned Sinatra every now and then.

“Hi, Chiz.” Ashleigh was pleased to see the lopsided smile that was evidence that Chiz was having a really good time.  He’d been a little depressed and frustrated at how long he’d been away from his bike.  He still had another month to go at least before the cast could be taken off and then he’d need to build the muscle back up before he could ride safely. 

“Hiya, Tink. Shark, that fuckin’ arachnid better not turn up in the clubhouse!”  Chiz jabbed a crutch in Paul’s direction.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of ‘em.”  Paul’s tone held the threat that if he detected any weakness in Chiz he would use it against him, and spiders would be turning up all over the clubhouse.  If that happened, Ashleigh was going to be avoiding it a whole lot more.

“No, but those huge furry things are just fuckin’ unnatural.  They’re a mutation.  A fuckin’ hamster with eight legs.  Just fuckin’ wrong.”  Chiz punctuated his rant by stabbing a crutch on the tarmac.

“Whatever, Perry Mason.  Sinatra, a couple of burgers, thanks.”  Ashleigh wasn’t offended that Paul had effectively ordered for her; it was a choice of hotdog or burger and she didn’t have much of a preference.

Sinatra flipped a couple of cooked patties off the grill onto some ready cut buns, wrapped them in a paper napkin each and handed them both to Paul.  In turn Paul handed one to Ashleigh so that they could both add what they wanted from the condiments arrayed on the table by the grill.

“Now to find somewhere quiet to eat ‘em.”  Paul was using his height advantage to look over the heads of the crowd.

“Yeah, you should find somewhere quiet and private, out of the way like.”  Chiz leered.

“It’s okay.”  Ashleigh said.  “Follow me.”  She had to smile when Paul flipped Chiz off.  If he hadn’t, she would’ve.

The hand that wasn’t holding his burger returned to her lower back, but without the pressure this time since she was leading the way. Warmth seemed to spread out from his palm all the way up to her shoulder blades and all the way down to her knees.  It was a possessive gesture, but sweet, protective.  Matthew had never done anything like that.  Ashleigh moderated her pace so that they didn’t lose contact as she led Paul through the crowd to the clinic building.  They had to squeeze past a crowd of small children who were clustered around the feet of the sixth-grade science teacher, who was in full clown costume and producing balloon animals at a dizzying speed to rapturous squeals of glee.

Once inside the clinic, she led Paul down the corridors to the staff lounge.  She was fairly certain that it would be unoccupied, as anyone who would have known where to find it was most likely outside socializing.

“Here we are.” 

She pushed open the door and motioned to the small veneer table with four matching chairs around it.  Paul pulled one of the chairs out for Ashleigh.  Oh, if he was going to keep up the chivalrous giant act, then she might as well just get naked straightaway.  Instead, she took the seat and waited until he had also claimed one, the one next to hers, before she began to eat.

She was still working on her first mouthful when he asked, “There aren’t any club kids, are there?”

Well that comment had come out of left field.  “No, I guess there aren’t.  Me and Dean were pretty much the last club kids.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know.  I guess Dean isn’t even thinkin’ about that yet.  No one else even has the startings of a family, really.  Terry and Dolly can’t have their own kids. I guess no one else has ever gotten around to it.”  Ashleigh knew that if she’d had children with Matthew that they wouldn’t have been as deep into the club as she had been, but she didn’t want to dwell on the fact that she had been in the position most likely to be starting the next generation and that she no longer was.

Paul was quiet a while.  “The club’s still got a real family vibe to it, though.”

“Yeah, it does.  It’s one of the things I love most about it.  What about your last club?  Does the Rabids have a lot of families?”

“Hell no.  Cross’s little girl is it for kids.  It ain’t a family club, just a gang of Peter Pan wannabes on their Harleys.”

“Doesn’t that go for all MCs?”

Paul chuckled.  “Yeah, I guess, but it applies to the Rabids more’n most I guess.”

The day had started out warm and had only gotten hotter, with small fluffy white clouds that hurried across the sky as if they knew they were trespassing on the perfect blue expanse.  The air conditioned cool of the interior of the building was chilly by comparison, and Ashleigh shivered.  Paul noticed and immediately put his burger down so that he could slip out of his hoodie.

“Here, take this.”

“You sure?”

“Just put it on.  I’m not the one shiverin’.”

Ashleigh slipped gratefully into the garment, which immediately swallowed her whole. It was good that it zipped up, because she could wrap it around her.  If it had been the sort to pull over her head she might’ve fallen right through it.  It still held his body heat and Ashleigh was instantly warmed.  It carried the smell of him, too, a mixture of sweat and cologne that was at once sweet and tangy.  Ashleigh wanted to take some deep lungfuls and memorize that addictive scent, but she didn’t want to be quite so obvious.  Maybe later, if he didn’t ask for it back.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure.  Here, you got some sauce on your chin.”

Ashleigh blushed, mortified that she’d been so clumsy with her food.  But then Paul was stretching his hand out towards her face, his fingertips barely touching her jaw, his thumb rubbing just under her lower lip.  Funny, she didn’t feel any sauce being smeared away...oh.  She registered the burning intent in his eyes only moments before he leaned forward, his palm moving to cup her face and hold her steady as he leaned in to kiss her.  Gently, so gently she thought she might have imagined it, he brushed his lips over hers.  He pulled back fractionally, his expression one of question. 

Ashleigh realized that she hadn’t moved, she’d been frozen with surprise, and he was probably taking it as a sign that he’d seriously overstepped a mark.  Tilting her head into his palm a little, she leaned forward and kissed him.  Again it was just a tender brush of lips on lips, but something in her action galvanized Paul.  His fingers slid into her hair and tightened, holding her in place as he claimed her mouth thoroughly.  Ashleigh put her hand onto his arm to steady herself and felt the muscle swell enticingly under her palm.  When she flexed her fingers against the rippling skin, Paul groaned into her mouth and kissed her harder, his tongue sliding against hers, tasting, teasing.

It was Paul that ended the kiss.  He pulled back just enough to allow Ashleigh to catch her breath.  He seemed to be overexerted as well.  “I better get you back to the front line.”

“Huh?  Oh, yeah.”  Ashleigh was struggling to think coherent thoughts.  Especially since his thumb was running over and over her cheekbone.  She was feeling that caress in places that she knew for an actual fact did not have any nerve links to that part of her face.

“Should I be sorry ‘bout that?”

“Sorry?  Hell no.”  The question startled her, so her response was a little sharper than she might otherwise have intended.  She guessed he’d missed the part where she’d kissed him and been a very enthusiastic participant; or maybe he really just was that chivalrous.

“Good.  I don’t want to be sorry ‘bout that.  I guess we better make a move before someone sends a search party for you.”

“Yeah, I guess.”  Ashleigh was trying hard to bury her disappointment.  At what she wasn’t sure, she definitely didn’t intend on getting down and dirty on the floor of the staffroom, but the pulse throbbing insistently between her legs was trying to override her sensibilities.

“Don’t worry, beauty.  If I don’t need to apologize you can be damn sure we’ll be doin’ that again sometime.  Sometime soon.”

Ashleigh almost wanted to cry as she felt the defenses that she’d been trying to shore up crumble into dust.  She really wasn’t ready to have her heart broken again.  She wasn’t sure how much more abuse her emotions could take, but she was helpless to resist whatever it was that was happening between them.  She wished she could do as her mother and Aunt Dolly suggested and indulge in a quick fling purely for the sake of pleasure, but she wasn’t built that way, and whatever was building here felt like more than that.  Even if it started as a casual hook-up, it had the makings of something more.

She smiled to hide the conflict raging among her head, her heart and the more primal parts of her anatomy.  She needed a little space and a lot of fresh air to work through her turmoil.  The voice of reason was advising her to stop things before they got started, but it was being drowned out by frustration at having to end their interlude and return to real life and her anticipation at the promise of another moment like that, maybe more.  If that kiss had just been an introduction, she was going to have some high expectations.