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If he thought it odd, he didn’t comment—the blending plant was his domain, after all.“Right, right,” he said, and swept April under his wing. She followed, completely at ease. It was the perfect opportunity to make an escape. To clear April’s perfume from my nostrils and get my head on straight. I had a to-do list as long as my left arm, every item calling for my attention.
But for whatever reason, I stayed, like this moment held importance. Shifting, I reclined against the wall, my eyes bound to April’s face as Jacob cupped her shoulders, encouraging her to peer inside the blending tank. The instinct to step in, to remove his hands from her, was as sharp as it was absurd. I was not jealous of Jacob, the very thought was ridiculous, the man was pushing seventy and happily married for almost fifty years. But when he whispered something between demonstrating the standard checks for the characteristics of our chosen flavours and aromas, she giggled, and that zap flared through my gut again.Hell. I scrubbed a hand along my lower jaw, the rough bristle a reminder I needed to trim the damn thing.Add it to the list.
What must I look like to her? I wondered, giving into my weakness to study her while I knew she was distracted. I traced the tight spiralling curls that brushed her neck, sneaking loose from the tie that bound the rest of her impressive mane. That hair had featured in my dream last night. Memories flooded me, those curls spread across my pillow, tickling my thighs as she rode me. When I imagined her, she was always on top.
Not memories,I scolded myself. Those things had never happened. Never would happen.
I caught her looking at me sometimes, at my face and hands when we worked side by side, not that she tried to hide it. I’d known women to admire me, felt their heated gazes on rare occasions. Heard their whispered words on even rarer ones, when loneliness drew me to a stranger’s bed.
To April, I was an enigma to be understood. While she… well, I couldn’t call her a temptation, because no scenario existed where a woman like her would invite me to her bed.
She was a distraction. An obsession.
Perhaps I should have taken Jasmine up on her offer when I gave her a ride home last month. She was a beautiful woman. Fun and inherently kind.Which is exactly why you said no,I reminded myself. I couldn’t stir up that kind of discomfort with a person I genuinely liked, a person I was certain to see around the village for the foreseeable future.
I wasn’t built for a relationship, didn’t have the emotional capacity to invite another into my life. Not because I couldn’t see myself opening up, no. I knew I could, with theright person. But I also knew I couldn’t offer the words to keep them there. Women wanted declarations, they deserved comfort, reassurance, gentility. None of those I knew how to express.
I rubbed at my tired eyes, dropping my fists immediately when April’s laugh thrummed through me again. I didn’t want to miss a second of it.
She appeared enraptured as the brilliant amber liquid poured into a dozen glass bottles. Jacob showed her how to complete a sensory inspection, holding a bottle beneath a white light that made every perfect angle of her face glow as she helped him inspect for defects or floating particles. She pulled a pack of labels from her bag, handing them to Jacob so he could smooth them precisely over the glass. And when he placed the finished product in her hands, she looked at me and beamed. The smile was full and unrestrained.
Click.
It was like the flash of a camera behind my eyelids, my mind immortalising every detail of that moment. I could swear my heart fucking stopped. And when it restarted, that next thump in my chest had her name on it.
I needed to watch her taste it.
I needed it like I needed my next breath.
11
APRIL
Death By A Thousand Cuts – Taylor Swift
“Can you believe it?” Sidling up to Malcolm, I held the glass bottle aloft with all the pride of a new parent showing off their firstborn. Perhaps I would send some unsolicited pictures of it to every person I knew.We get it, Julie, you had a baby. No one thinks that little alien is cute but you.
Just kidding. Sort of.
“I mean… I didn’t really do anything, it was all Jacob. But I don’t think he could have gotten through it without my emotional support.”
Malcolm said nothing—not unusual for him—but he didn’t scowl either. I dropped a hand to his arm.“Hey, is everything okay?”
He looked at my hand for a long moment.“Fine. Everything’s fine.” Then he stepped back, shrugging off my touch. He was acting weird, no less gruff than usual, but there was a definite edginess that hadn’t been there an hour ago. It settled around him like a thick fog. He shook loose of it, taking the bottle from me and holding it up to the light for his own inspection.“Nothing quite like holding the finished product in your hand, is there?”
“No,” I replied with unleashed wonder. Until this moment, I’d never truly understood Kier and Mal’s dedication to the job. As a kid, all I’d known were Kier’s long days, unpredictable hours, and the toll it took on his body. They had machines and methods in place that made the job easier nowadays, but the work was still gruelling. Never in my life had I been as dog-tired as these past weeks. Three a.m. wake-up calls and twelve-hour days on a blistering cold film set had nothing on this.
When I’d pushed the cork into the bottle, the smokey scent of peat and sweet caramel lingering in my nose, I’d had to hold back tears. It was the smell of home.
Kier and Mal and Jacob… they’d shared this labour of love. And in three years’time, someone would hold my hard work in their hand. Call me an overly emotional female, I wouldn’t deny it. I also wouldn’t deny that it fed the part of my soul I’d only ever found in front of a camera lens. Every emotion must have been written across my face because Mal’s fierce countenance softened a fraction. An indistinguishable change to someone who didn’t have a playbook of his every scowl.
“Come.” He gestured to the door. As I followed, he called back to Jacob,“You good here?”
Jacob chuckled.“Aye, lad. I’ve only worked here forty-eight years, I think I’ll manage.”
Ignoring his sarcasm, Malcolm gave Jacob a wave and pushed the door open, stepping back for me to duck beneath his arm. The crack was only slight and as I stepped through, it brought my back flush with his chest in a move that felt purposeful. My shoulder grazed hard muscle and I felt his body lock tight, tension rippling from his skin through to mine.
I stumbled onto the top step, almost tripping as my legs failed me. He caught me, hands locking tightly around the tops of my shoulders.“You okay?”
