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“You can saddle up Chester and go and meet them, if you like,” she offered. “I’ll be fine here for ten minutes on my own.” It’d give her time to get the cake in the oven without him seeing what he was doing.
Aaron’s blue eye flashed at her from beneath the brim of his hat, and he studied her for a few seconds before replying. “Thank you, Julie, but that’s not my job. My job is protecting you, remember?”
She wanted to stick her tongue out at him, but huffed out a breath and turned her back instead. She was only trying to be helpful. He’d looked so much like the Aaron she’d known back in Dalgety, with that eager yearning on his face to be off helping the crew, that she’d almost let her old feelings surface again. She’d remember not to do that from now on.
After dinner, the crew sat around the fire, satiated and worn out, chatting about the wild scrub bull that’d charged at Sue on her ATV. She’d only just managed to swerve out of the way in time. They all laughed, as if the danger had been part of the fun of it all. Julie began washing up the plates and cooking pots. Maddie, the youngest of the Scanlon team, pulled out a battered, dusty, old radio from the back of their truck and set it up on a wooden stump near the fire. There was no radio reception out here, but she’d come prepared, and had a stash of old-fashioned tapes on hand. She’d chosen a mixed tape of well-known Australian country singers. Slim Dusty was now warbling about the pub with no beer from the speaker.
Surprising everyone, Bazza and Rosie got up and began to dance to the beat, kicking up a small dust cloud on their makeshift dance floor beside the fire. Julie smiled as she watched the married couple swing each other around with a familiar intimacy that almost made her jealous. Then Carrot asked Maddie to dance. At first, she said no, but the redhead kept patiently reaching for her hand until she finally conceded and got up to sway to the music self-consciously with him. Julie left the bowl of sudsy water and wandered to the front of the mess tent to get a better look at the dancing couples oscillating in the flickering firelight.
The song finished and then changed to a more upbeat one by Troy Cassar-Daley and Dave gave a whoop and asked Beth Scanlon to get up with him, ignoring her father’s low scowl in his direction. Julie tapped her foot along with the music. They sometimes ran a version of a country bush dance at Stormcloud for the guests, and more often than not, it was Julie’s job to get them all up and dancing, showing them some country dance moves to get them going. She loved to dance, loved to lose herself in the music. So, when Dale got up from his chair and gave her a cheeky wink, offering her his hand, she wiped her palms on the back of her jeans and took it, moving out on to the natural arena with a gleeful skip. They stomped up a dust storm with their cowboy boots, Dale whirling her around like a pro; her stepbrother was a good dancer and liked to participate almost as much as she did.
“Yeehaw,” she yelled, allowing the pure pleasure of the moment to infuse her. Everyone else who wasn’t dancing clapped along from their seats, adding their own voices to the music. Even Wazza took Bindi by the hand and dragged her out of her seat, joining in the merriment. As she danced, she caught glimpses of Aaron standing, watching her from the sidelines, arms crossed and a small frown marring his handsome features. She threw him a wicked smile and redoubled her efforts. This was the first real fun she’d had in days; weeks, even.
The song changed again, this time to a ballad, sung by James Blundell, and he began to croon the words about living out west where the rain don’t fall. Julie dragged in a few ragged breaths, she was nearly worn out. The other couples changed their dance style and came together for a slow waltz. Dale took her hand, ready to guide her around the dance floor, when, much to Julie’s astonishment, Aaron suddenly materialized beside her.
“Do you mind if I cut in?” he drawled to Dale.
“Be my guest,” Dale replied with a knowing grin, passing her hand over to him before she could protest. Her heart kicked like a mule at the touch of Aaron’s palm against hers, the heat of him burning through to her soul. She was about to protest when Aaron drew her in close, placing a hand in the small of her back and she lost her ability to speak as her face came to within inches of his broad, muscled chest. He was so warm, like a small furnace burned deep in his chest. It was so Aaron.
“What are you doing?” she squeaked, then cleared her throat and tried again. “You don’t like to dance,” she amended.
“I didn’t used to like to dance,” he replied. “But you don’t know everything about what I do and don’t like anymore.”
It seemed not, because Aaron was now a very proficient dancer, and he took the lead, twirling her lazily around between the other couples without even stepping on her foot once. His proximity was doing strange things to her head. She could barely think straight, was scarcely conscious of the others moving to the beat around them. Her world narrowed until it was just her and Aaron, her palm resting in his, their thighs touching as they swept around the arena, his breath quiet, but feverish in her ear. Why was he doing this?
She didn’t dare look up at him, because that’d be her downfall. He’d see it in her eyes in a second, how her body reacted to his, and how the chemistry was still there, stronger than ever. She’d never responded to any other man quite like she had to Aaron. Not before she’d met him, nor after he left her. And she was scared she might see the exact same emotions reflected back in his eyes. He captured her hand in his and lay it gently on his chest, then returned his palm to middle of her back. She could feel his strong heart beating beneath the shirt. She was suddenly lost in the feel of him, how his heartbeat drummed in time with the music; in time with hers. It drummed through her chest and down her stomach and thighs, setting her core on fire.
The song came to an end, but she almost didn’t notice, until another more upbeat one took its place and everyone broke apart to shimmy and shake to the music. Wazza declared he was beat and retired to his chair, Bindi following behind him. It was Wazza’s deep voice that finally broke through Julie’s trance-like state. She withdrew from Aaron’s grasp slowly, and he let her go, although with a hint of reluctance.
Looking around the stock camp, her mind cleared, and she almost slapped her forehead. The cake, she’d nearly forgotten about the cake.
“I need to go and ice the…” she stopped herself just in time. “I need to get something from the caravan. I’ll be back in a minute,” she added breathlessly.
“I’ll come with you.” He was beside her in a split second.
“Stay here and enjoy the music,” she cajoled, “I’ll be quick, and I’ll be fine, you can see the caravan from here.”
He was about to argue, she could see it in the set of his mouth—his delectable, kissable mouth—but after a second, he let her go. She scampered off toward the caravan, stopping to whisper in Bindi’s ear as she went. She needed an accomplice to this plan of hers. Bindi smiled and nodded as Julie spoke quickly.
The rich chocolate cake was cooling on a rack in the caravan, all it needed was icing and a few candles. Aaron was thirty-one today, but Julie didn’t have that many candles, so she formed what she had into the shape of a three and a one. Five minutes later, Julie was fairly pleased with her efforts. She grabbed a box of matches and walked back to the fire. Bindi came to meet her just before she broke into the circle of firelight, hiding the cake with her body and helping her to light the candles. Then with a flourish, Bindi stood back, and they began to sing Happy Birthday at the top of their lungs, walking toward Aaron with the cake held high. After a few seconds of surprise, others from the crew joined in and they all looked in Aaron’s direction.
Julie saw the exact second Aaron figured out the cake, and the song were for him. His handsome face blanched white, and he took a step away from her and the advancing cake. Julie faltered, but she couldn’t stop now, so she kept singing at the top of her voice, even though her heart had sunk to the pit of her belly. Everyone got up from their chairs and formed a semi-circle around her and Aaron, singing for he’s a jolly good fellow in raucous bellows.
Aaron plastered on a false smile and blew out the candles as everyone congratulated him.
“Why didn’t you tell us it was your birthday?” Steve asked. “We would’ve organized something more for you.”
Aaron shrugged and gave an enigmatic smile as Wazza came up and slapped him on the back, but the quick flash of pique in his eyes wasn’t lost on Julie.
“Yeah, never let an opportunity for cake go by, mate,” Scanner drawled. “Or any other sort of birthday favors,” he added with a sly wink in Aaron’s direction. The innuendo wasn’t lost on Julie, and she felt her ears burn. She placed the cake on the table at the front of the mess tent and everyone crowded around, all wanting a piece of the tasty delight. Aaron hovered at the back of the crowd, frowning.
“Bindi, would you mind cutting the cake?” She asked, shoving the knife in the other girl’s hand. “The plates are over there.” She indicated a stack of crockery at the end of the table. “I just need to…” What did she need to do? Even she wasn’t sure, but she’d upset Aaron somehow and she felt like she needed to fix it.
“Sure, no probs.” Bindi gave her a skeptical smile, while her eyes strayed to where Aaron stood in the shadows. It seemed even she could feel there was something wrong.
Julie made her way unobtrusively through the throng all clamoring for the largest piece of cake, and stopped in front of Aaron, looking up into his face. “Don’t you like cake? I thought chocolate was your favorite.” She was at a loss for words. Why was he acting like this?
“It is,” he replied with a growl. “But…I’m sorry. I just don’t like to celebrate my birthday, that’s all.” He spun around and headed away from the fire. What had she done wrong?
