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22
Cyn
My hands are covered in dirt as I part the soil and drop a bulb into the hole I’ve made before piling the earth back over it and patting it down, careful not to aggravate my broken fingers too much. They're still strapped up, but I'm pretty sure in another week or so I'll have full use of them again.
A little way along, Arden has the sleeves of his denim shirt rolled up and is planting a rose bush that was delivered this morning alongside enough tinned food, fresh fruit and vegetables, and staples to keep us going until next winter. Donovan, the captain of the fishing boat that sails between the island and the mainland, won’t be back again until the beginning of summer, but even he was surprised by the volume of food and other supplies.
“Know something I don’t?” he’d asked cheerily.
Arden had just grinned and tapped his nose.
That was a few hours ago, and Lorcan and Carrick are currently in the kitchen sorting through the delivery, restocking the pantry with herbs, spices and other ingredients needed to replenish what Arden and I've used over the past week working together making tinctures and tonics, lotions and salves. It’s been a distraction that I’ve desperately needed and has brought us even closer together. It hasn’t been easy, but I've slowly learnt to be present in the world once more. There have been times where I've slipped into moments of absence when a memory hits me full force, but the difference is, I don't stay there, and I owe that to the Deana-dhe.
During the day Arden has kept my mind busy helping me practise my herbology, he’s a quick study and has an instinctual understanding that is hard to find.
At night, Carrick has soothed my soul with his beautiful voice so that I can drift into a peaceful sleep.
And all the hours in between Lorcan has taken care of my body with his gentle hands, kind words and endless patience.
Each of them gives me what I need, all of them loving me in their own way. In return I’ve fully accepted my place here, and whilst we’ve shared kisses and affection it hasn’t gone any further than that. Lorcan might have fully awoken my body with an orgasm, but he’s not attempted to touch me that way since. Neither have Carrick or Arden. They’ve all respected my need to take it slow, to seal our bond as friends before we become lovers.
Sitting back on my haunches, I swipe my hands over my skirt as I stop and admire Arden. He has his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, the muscles of his strong forearms tensing under his skin as he wrangles the rose bush into the ground. My heart does a funny little flip as he manages to get it straight and starts piling dirt over the roots, compacting it around the base, just like I taught him. We chose this particular rose bush because it’s calledFaith, and it will be surrounded by flowers and herbs that will be used in my remedies to heal ailments in honour of my friend’s life.
A beautiful idea that Arden had suggested.
Chewing on my lip, I continue to study him enjoying the feeling of safety, friendship, and love blooming inside my chest.
He must sense me watching him, because he sits back on his haunches and smiles over at me, the cool sea breeze rushing over the bluff, bringing with it the scent of the ocean and ruffling his already wind-tousled hair. This time attraction stirs within me as I stare at the strip of dirt across his forehead and the broad smile across his face. He looks young, carefree, happy, and a warmth blooms out from my stomach, matching the spread of heat that rises up my chest and neck.
“What?” he asks me, a smile curving up his plump lips, the scruff of his week-old beard only adding to his attractiveness. “Have I got something on my face?”
“Just a little dirt,” I reply, pointing to my own forehead to indicate where the smudge of dirt is.
“Here?” he asks, reaching up and swiping the back of his hand against his forehead, making it worse.
“Yeah, right there,” I reply, laughter bubbling out of my mouth as he looks at me with such joy that I’m momentarily lost for words.
“That sound, Cyn,” he says, his amber eyes lit with happiness. “It’s so good to hear it.”
“It feels good to laugh,” I admit, enjoying how the warmth has evolved into a simmering heat, burning brighter with every moment that passes.
“I’m not sure I’ve ever made you smile like that before,” he says, cocking his head to the side as something shifts in the air between us.
“I like smiling like this,feelinglike this,” I reply, the electric current of attraction that’s been building slowly over the past week we’ve worked alongside each other, sparking to life. “I like it, a lot.”
“Me too.”
Our eyes lock and I feel that flame within me burn even brighter. My gaze drops from his eyes to his lips, to the butterfly tattoo on his neck, the wings fluttering as he swallows. The top two buttons of his shirt are undone and I can see a smattering of dark chest hair where the dip of his throat meets the top of his chest. I can’t help but remember how it felt to touch him there all those weeks ago when I stripped naked in the den and the three of them made me come.
“Cyn…” he begins, but a sudden gust of wind snatches the words from his lips as the distant sound of thunder rumbles out to sea.
“A storm’s brewing,” I say, brushing my hands together and knocking off the loose dirt gathered on my fingers, a nervous energy coursing through me suddenly.
“It is,” he replies, his heated gaze directed at me, and I get the distinct impression that he isn’t talking about the one brewing in the sky above us. “I feel it too.”
A sudden shyness creeps up my spine at the intense way he looks at me, and I chew on my lip, dropping my gaze. By the time I look back up, Arden is staring at the horizon.
“It’ll be a few minutes before the storm reaches us. We’ve got time to plant the last handful of bulbs before we need to get back inside,” he says, before picking up a fork and turning over some more soil.
