Got To Be Good-looking ('cause he's so hard to see)

~13~

Clare

Dusk, not a breath of wind just me, the path and the Loch ahead. A quick stroll to the waters edge, dip my toe in, to say I did and back, shower, bed.

The blossoms in the gardens from the fruit trees were so pretty, laid open and adorable against the backdrop of the new leaf brought forth by spring.

Readying to bear fruit for the owners table and, no doubt, the restaurant. My thumb wasn't green at all having killed my last three pot plants, one from too much water, one from not enough and one from accidently knocking it off the balcony ledge.

He said two rooms but there wasn't any so one was booked. I'll take to the car after I shower and use the amenities in his room, it's not too cold at night, so I should be right. How a place in the middle of the booneys was booked solid was a surprise, sleepy town made good maybe.

"You can't sleep in the damn car" He yelled and I took a step back, he watched me do so and his voiced quietened "You'll catch your death"

"Oh wouldn't that be a great loss to you" I rolled my eyes and his glint with determination as I walked over and picked up a blanket "Look cap, I'll drive you, I'll put the fuel in for you, I'll change the bloody tyres for you but I WON'T sleep in the same room as you"

"I know all that, I just don't want you dying of pneumonia... I'd lose a driver" I stood holding the door, the wind whipped my hair into my eyes and he lifted a chin. "You're a stubborn broad"

"Yep"

The car was freezing cold, my breath making the windows cloud with condensation, I should admit defeat and crawl to his door, accept the hearty self-righteous laughter he would surely make and sleep on the floor.

I drew a smiley face on the window instead.

****************

"Rise and shine princess" The door was flung open and the prat hauled me out, my hair a mess about my face, he wiped it away, with surprisingly soft hands "Breakfast is served"

With a flourish, he handed me a piece of slightly burnt toast, lightly buttered. Nice.

"Go wash up and I'll air the stink of you from the car" Nasty. He turned to crank the windows down and I gave him the finger, then raised two fingers giving a double salute instead. "I can see you in the mirror,you know"

"Well at least they weren't wasted then" I trudged off with him laughing as he stood leaning on the side of the coupe.

The shower was hot, hot to scold, hot to heat my frigid bones. I looked in the mirror and suddenly realised I'd been sans sunglasses, he saw my face, damn it.

I inspected the eye, the bruise and swelling was well and truly still evident, the site painful under my fingers as I worked them round and over my eyelid toward my cheek bone then down to my jaw below.

Makeup -NO.

Head down- Hell NO.

I walked out the door, he watched as I approached then loaded my bag and slammed the boot. He said nothing, I wasn't grateful.

I suddenly wished he would speak, call me a name or cause verbal pain. Be a right royal pain in the arse, act the same as yesterday. But he didn't.

The coupe started and I let the engine warm.

Not a word.

The sunglasses were handed to me silently and I pressed the accelerator.

Skirting the inland ocean that slid into the land like a snake I let the window roll down washing the worry away, as we flanked around the tip of the snakes head near Cairndow then onto Achadunan I breathed deeply. Too deeply, I roused the sleeping form beside me from his slumber. We had barely left and the lazy sod had turned toward his door and snored.

I skirted along the snakes back and ran a hand through my hair, leaning toward the console to grab the last smoke that was there.... he beat me.

"Mine!" I raised a warning to his smirk.

"You're driving"

"What the hell does that matter" I clicked my fingers continuously, I need the smoke.

"Much too dangerous"

"Well it's less dangerous than me driving into the ocean to murder you" I moved the car to the edge of the road. The water was closer, nearer to his side than mine.

"All talk. No action"

I slammed the brakes on and pulled off the road... and launched into the narcissist, punching at him and cursing. Smug bastard, the smoke dangled from his lips. All he did was hold my wrists as I tried vainly to undo his binding ties and hit him again.

The smoke dropped onto his crotch and he let go, jumping about like a bloke that was about to lose his gonads, he reached for the door handle to tumble out and I couldn't help but start cackling with laughter.

It was too funny, too bloody hilarious  not to.

As he rolled on the ground and went to stand I thought for a second about driving off, so I did. Him yelling colourful words at me from behind the little cow pat brown coupe. I would then pull up and take off intermittently as his hand reached for the boot or touched the roof or went for the door handle, finally hands on hips he stood, unmoving. I had won.