Trust Me (Trust Me, Find Me 1)

I turn my attention to his jumper, and he helps me shuck it off him, along with his T-shirt.

“I feel like a teenager again.”

I giggle nervously, then pause as I take in his muscular shoulders.

“What are these?”

He turns and shows me his back. Across it is a huge tattoo. An osprey. It’s a work of art, detailed and intricately drawn.

“Your favourite bird.”

I trace the outstretched wings with my fingers.

“You designed this?”

He nods, as my lips lightly brush over the lines.

“It’s fabulous.”

He turns, and on his chest I recognise another bird.

“A lapwing!”

His lips break into a grin as I examine the smaller bird delicately tattooed on his muscular left pectoral.

“Your favourite.”

He whispers into my ear, “Inked forever on my heart.”

“When did you get it done?”

“After my last letter to you.”

“I want one too.”

I cover the lapwing with my mouth, trailing my hands over his corded torso.

“God, you’ve got an amazing body, Annie,” he murmurs against my skin, smattering me with insistent kisses.

Working his mouth and fingers, slowly and hungrily, he greedily feasts on every part of me, consuming me again in flames of desire. And it’s like I’m finally home as we wrap ourselves tightly around each other, eventually becoming one.

“Annie. You’re the only one. Ever.”

“Draw me a bird. I want your art on me too.”

“How about here?”

His mouth nuzzles my shoulder blade, feeling the indented marks of my past that I always cover from view.

“Yes, there.”

???

The sky was full of snow, but Sion, alone and bored, decided to head for the pub rather than face the long evening flicking through the only four terrestrial channels that Jac’s old television picked up.

He needed to check his messages anyway, and he had a feeling that Jac wouldn’t be back anytime soon. At least he hoped he wouldn’t be. He chuckled to himself, who knew with those two? At least now things would get sorted. One way or another.

A wall of warmth hit his face as he walked into the bar, where the fire was banked up high with logs. Claire caught his smile, her face lighting up as he walked in. And boy was she looking good tonight. Her tight, patterned tunic dress and leggings hugged her petite frame in all the right places, showing off her delicious curves.

Behind her, Kevin was staring at his laptop, earplugs in, oblivious to any customers. And by the reflection of his screen in the mirror behind the bar, Sion could see it was the football he was studying, not a brewery spreadsheet.

“Quiet tonight?”

He scanned the empty bar as Claire poured him a pint of real ale.

“Dead,” Claire yawned. “The weather’s put people off coming out. It’s a night for sitting by the fire.”

“Or snuggling up?”

“Hmm. Who would you be doing that with? Jac?”

“I think he might be a little preoccupied tonight.”

Sion gauged her reaction carefully.

Unflinching, Claire’s eyes met his.

“So, you’ll be all alone, then.”

“Perhaps.”

He looked at her hopefully.

She broke into a laugh, shaking her head, “You’re a cocky bugger, you are. D’you never give up?”

Sion clocked Kevin’s piggy eyes on him. He had one ear-pod dangling, sneakily earwigging.

“Evening,” he signalled, raising his voice.

Kevin instantly dived back into his laptop. Fiddling with his ear-pod, he positioned it hastily back into his ear.

“Spend some time with me, Claire. How about we go for a walk by the coast? When are you off next?”

“Not until midweek.”

“Think about it?”

“Okay,” she crumbled, smiling.

“That’s a yes, then?”

“You don’t give up, do you?”

“Never when it comes to you.”

“I better get on. Someone says I need to talk less and do more cleaning when it’s quiet,”

“God forbid, you should be sat watching football and online porn behind the bar all evening.”

“Exactly. Or doing dodgy deals with the kids ‘round here.”

She rubbed the tip of her nose and sniffed; then gave him a wink, before disappearing into the kitchen.

Cocaine. He’d noticed Kevin taking cigarette breaks with random strangers a few times. It made sense now. He was dealing drugs on the side.

Taking his beer, he went over towards the pool table.

In the corner, there was a large screen that usually showed sports matches, but tonight it was playing a satellite news channel. The muted newsreader on the screen switched to a piece to camera from a London housing estate.

A unit of helmeted police were rushing up to a scruffy-looking tenement door. Lining up behind a ram, two of the police officers then knocked the door down, and they all piled inside. Another drug bust in the capital.

Sion got his laptop out of his backpack. He fired it up and checked all his sites. There were no new messages in his secure mail. No jobs or new contacts.

He’d be staying here for a while longer and that suited him fine.

He thought about Claire, who he’d just caught a glimpse of, cleaning in the kitchen area. This was the kind of place where he could easily stay a little while longer.

Especially if she was here with him.

From his chaotic early life to the army, home had never been a place. For him, home was a feeling that you got when you were with your truest friends, where you felt that you belonged.

CHAPTER 17

-----------?----------

As dawn breaks, the first light streaming in is brighter than usual.

I sense Jac moving his arm from under me as he slides naked out of bed to look out of the window. I pull the quilt over my head. We’ve not slept much.

“Annie.”

“Hmm?” I stir.

He nuzzles me with his stubbly face until I’m awake and squealing.

“I’ve got to get going. There’s deep snow, I need to check the sheep.”

“Hold on.”

I cover my body up a little self-consciously with the quilt.

“I’ll give you a hand.”

He tosses the covers from me, kissing me fervently.

“Much as I’d love to stay.”

I giggle, batting him away.

“We can pick this up when we finish.”

We’re soon dressed and in the yard. A good foot of snow has fallen, and our feet leave deep powdery tracks as we wade through it to the shed, to get Jac’s Land Rover out.

We pile hay, shovels and feed into the back, and then slip and slide our way down to the cottage to pick up Jess, on our way to the fields.

First, we check the ewes that are expecting twins, near the cottage.

When we get there, they’re huddled in one corner. They’ve kept the snow off them by keeping close together and they’re in good condition.

“I need to get these into the shed after we’ve done feeding.”

“What’s that there?”

I draw his attention to a ewe with a bloody tail.

Jac examines it more carefully.

Nearby it, he spots a pool of afterbirth and we slowly edge towards the sheep, keeping Jess in check. Kneeling beside the pool, I dig away the snow with my gloved hands. Submerged beneath, twin lambs lie motionless in the cold.

Quickly, I pick up the two lifeless lambs, wiping their mouths clear of any mucus and putting them wet and mucky inside my coat to warm up. Meanwhile, Jac works with Jess to catch the ewe, putting her carefully into the back of the Land Rover.

Checking that there are no more lambs, we hastily feed them and then drive

back up to the farmyard, where Jac pens the ewe in the shed, while I go to work on the lambs.

Both are still alive, just about. They’re cold and very weak.

“Can you milk the ewe and get some colostrum?”

“I’ll give it a go.”

I line a plastic storage box deep with hay. Then, I carefully place the limp lambs in there, taking them into the farmhouse to put them under a heat lamp.

Both are starting to stir and have raised their heads when Jac comes back into the kitchen with a small tub of thick, creamy sheep milk.

“I think these two will come.”

Taking the tub from him, I extract a syringe-full and try unsuccessfully to get them to drink the colostrum.

“Damn.”