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“What about me: am I beautiful?” Cameron asks.
Bridget looks at him flatly. “No, you’re an idiot.”
He grabs her in a headlock and she squeals in laughter as they start to wrestle and he pushes her over so she falls into the hedge.
“See, an idiot. That’s what an idiot would do.” She squeals as she giggles. Ben grabs her hand and pulls her out of the bush.
I nervously hop into the driver’s seat. “It’s very low.” My eyes flick to Joshua.
He smiles broadly and I melt. That’s the first genuine smile I have seen from him in a week.
“Are you sure that other cars can even see you in this thing?” I ask.
He nods. “Start the engine.” He points to the ignition.
I bite my bottom lip as I start the car and I laugh loudly.
Joshua’s eyes light up in excitement.
“I’m like a bad ass gangster,” I yell out the window and Ben laughs.
“This doesn’t feel safe,” I murmur as I adjust the rear-view mirror.
“It’s not meant to be; it’s designed to frighten the hell out of you.” Joshua smiles.
I nod as I practise the blinkers. “Hmm, it’s working,” I mutter under my breath. I slowly go round the driveway and everyone waves. I squeal loudly in excitement and Joshua laughs.
“Look out drivers, here we come.” I laugh.
“Stop talking, concentrate and watch the road,” Joshua murmurs and the fear in his eyes makes me laugh again.
“Oh, are you scared Stanton?” I squeal.
His eyes flick to me and he smirks. “Maybe.”
I sit in the car across the road from where Joshua is talking to a real estate agent who we have called in on our way to Willowvale. They have emerged from the office and are standing on the sidewalk finishing their conversation. Joshua is wearing my favourite army-green cargo pants with a black V-neck jumper. The way he is standing, back facing me with one foot up on the curb, I can see every muscle in his broad back and that tight behind… excellent viewing just quietly. Oh and that clippered dark hair, a walking goddamn orgasm. He’s been quiet, too quiet, and I need to take his mind off things. Ben’s words about us not being safe are playing on my mind. Joshua was attacked once on his way back from Willowvale. A little earlier when I bought coffee for us in a cafe I kept looking around nervously to see if people were following us now. I quickly glance around the street to see if anyone suspicious is lurking. I thought the security would have been following us by now, but apparently not. My recurring nightmare comes into my mind. What if someone had Joshua and I had to try and defend him? I wouldn’t have a frigging clue how to do that. Maybe I should take some self-defence classes and learn how. The image of me being gang-raped brings a ball of fear to my throat and I internally hear the sound of the metal bar hitting Joshua’s head. I close my eyes. Stop it Natasha, it’s not real.
How can a nightmare frighten someone so much? I now know for sure that my dreams are stress-related. I have had my nightmare twice this week, the first time since my place got broken into the night before we went to Kamala.
Joshua finally walks back across to the car. He smiles warmly at me through the windscreen and I feel my heart skip a grateful beat. I have never loved him more than I do now. The way he has handled this whole nightmare has only cemented our relationship and how strong it really is. I honestly thought that when he found out that I knew about his mother it was going to be hell to pay and we would start all of our ridiculous games again. But no. We are finally past the nonsense infiltrating our precious relationship.
“Sorry, that took longer than I thought.” He bounces into his seat.
I bend down to the cup holder and produce a protein smoothie and the coffee I bought him at the shop. “Here you are, babe.”
He smiles and his eyes twinkle. “You’re looking after me very well these days, presh.”
I smirk. “Isn’t that what wives do: look after their husbands?”
His face falls. “Not always,” he answers quietly as he takes them from me and I know he is thinking of his own mother and father.
Shit! Why did I frigging say that? What an idiot!
Trying to recover the situation I quickly answer. “Well that’s what this wife does, future wife,” I stammer as I correct myself.
He smirks and bends over and pecks me on the lips. “Lucky me.”
“Yes, you are lucky actually. I’m hot property you know.” I widen my eyes to accentuate my point.
