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   Chapter 14 And So It Begins

Broken Past By Arathi Characters: 11216

Updated: 2018-08-24 07:27


After his one-sided wild night, JT found it hard to focus in Gwen's presence.

He remembered talking her into working on the security around her house and making a trip to the market for supplies. Soon enough they had made their way back to her home, and now, under the mid-day glare of the sun, he was shirtless and hammering wooden posts down the slope - all the way from the rose bush near her window to the cemetery.

He stopped long enough to wipe the sweat of his brow. There was little he could do for the trail it made down his back. Gwen however, thought otherwise. She exited the house carrying a light towel and a couple of frosted beers. He grinned. Nothing could be greater than the appreciation of a thoughtful woman!

He left the hammer on the still soggy ground and reached for the towel. His fingers barely grazed hers, but the connection was strong enough to zap him back to the dream. Her warmth felt exactly like that in his dream when she wrapped her arms around him.

Shaking himself to the present, JT rubbed the towel around his neck, down to his chest, and around to his back. She didn't seem interested in him in the least, and JT wondered why. He'd felt the instant attraction at the coffee shop at their first meeting. Hadn't he? Had he read her signals all wrong? Perhaps it was Tom's return that had changed everything? He didn't know. And not knowing bothered him. It bothered him a lot.

The popping sound of the beer can, brought back JT's focus. He reached out for the drink she offered and almost moaned as the cold tickled his palm and sent waves of pleasure up his tired and aching muscles. He brought the can to his lips and drank greedily, watching her all the while. In that sense, he had an advantage. His half-hooded eyes often misled people. If he closed them just so, he could still see clearly, but people often remarked that it looked like his eyes were closed completely. And so, he pretended to close his eyes as he drank, hoping that Gwen would peek at him with perhaps, a tiny smile, and that would encourage him to believe that she was attracted to him. But no, she didn't even send him a cursory glance, and that wound his male ego, somewhat. Okay, it hurt his ego more than somewhat.

Gwen swept her eyes across the property and mentally counted the trees. She didn't know why she did it. But she did. When waiting – whether for a bus or doctor's appointment – she passed the time counting. Most normal people read or listened to music or struck up a conversation with another bored passenger or patient. She, however, counted. Pens, pencils, fingers, toes, buttons on a shirt, number of people waiting, tiles on the wall or floor – anything that was countable.

And now she was counting trees. She wondered if this was a habit to hide her impatience or nervousness. Like when people twiddled their thumbs or others tapped their feet and shook the whole bench. She went with nervousness. She was again in a situation where the lack of conversation pressed her into thinking of what she could talk about, and her lack of ideas was unnerving. She wished JT would take the lead, but he was intent on enjoying his break with something less complicated than a flawed conversationalist.

Feeling the full glare of the sun, Gwen decided to cool down a little. She rolled her shirt sleeves till her elbow

ve confidence in herself again. She was not desirable, and there was just no point in thinking that she was.

Needing something else to do, she waved at JT, hauled her arse off the ground and made her way to the house. Perhaps she should tell him what she was doing? It seemed rude that she'd left him to work on her property, a no paid job! He could have used his time to do anything he wanted, and yet he was here helping her. And she was just going to leave him in the sun without a word?

And so she turned and tried catching his attention. That wasn't hard to do. He was watching her as she retreated. Guilt flooded her. What must he be thinking? She hoped he hadn't thought of her as ungrateful. She gestured to the kitchen window and hoped he'd see where she was headed. When he didn't react, she tried a different approach. She rubbed her belly slowly so he wouldn't miss the movement from the distance they were at. She stuck up five fingers and then pointed to her watch. She hoped he figured she was making lunch and would be back out in five minutes. Then she turned and headed into the house.

JT didn't understand. And not because he couldn't. He didn't understand, because he hadn't paid attention. He had watched with his jaw almost hitting the ground as Gwen rubbed her belly slowly. And that's what it was, a belly. Not a tight, fit abdomen. It was soft and round, much like her bottom. The clueless tease, he thought! She had no idea of his physical attraction to her, and the most innocent of gestures had fogged his mind and forced his more manly parts to twitch with life. Yes, there it was. Yet another difference between them. The Indian hesitance to call anatomy parts by their actual name. He wondered what she would call, it. More so, he wondered if what she called it would sound crass. An intimate word from those blushing soft red lips? Nah. They would never sound crass!

"Mhmm, " he said to himself in appreciation as he saw that soft tushy disappear into the darkness of the house. Then he went back to drilling the posts in the ground. A perfectly manly way to ease frustration.

Until he heard an ear piercing scream.

"Gwen!" he whispered as he dropped everything and took off for the house.

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