Natural Attraction (36 page)

Us.

That word flows naturally from his mouth and implies a longer term relationship.  I briefly entertain the idea of mentioning the ‘us’, and the future, but decide against it. This could be something to discuss while we are away camping perhaps?

Excited that we are now headed off on a trip
and
that I get to do it with my favorite friends in the world, my mind moves to packing and what I will take.  As I do this, it occurs to me I have never seen a gooseneck at Jax’s place.

“Um... 
Who’s gooseneck are we taking?”

“No flies on you,” Jax grins.  “
Mine
.”

I wonder how this can be.

“And where is
your
gooseneck currently?  Does it transform down to hide somewhere at your place.  I can’t recall seeing a gooseneck anywhere,” I reply sarcastically.

Looking at me with an amused look on his face, I stare at him impatiently waiting for his response.  I regret my impatience seconds later as I watch a wave of pain fly over Jax’s face before his eyes go blank.

“It’s at the Walker Civil depot.  It’s brand-new, nearly three years old and never used.”

“Oh,” I reply realizing I have stumbled on dangerous ground. 

Hoping to skirt off the subject, I watch Jax’s face and lean in to give him a soft, lingering, closed mouth kiss on the lips.  I feel his lips smiling against mine and he draws back, the sparkle back in his eyes.

“It’s okay Ash.  I’d ordered it custom-built about a month before Jess died.  It was supposed to be our new home away from home.  She never got to see it and I didn’t want to see it either.  When it was due for delivery, Dad arranged to have it delivered to Walker Civil where it has sat under cover for all this time.  At first I figured we would just take my double float and a tent. Then, the more I thought about it, I realized the whole experience would be so much better in the gooseneck.  Dad’s bring
ing it across later this afternoon. 

I’m look
ing forward to seeing now.  Hopefully we will get more opportunities to use it in the future.  We’ll have power, a flat screen television, a queen-size bed, a full kitchen and bathroom including toilet and there’s even
air-conditioning. 
There are lightweight yards for the horses as well.”

“It sounds wonderful.”

I speak softly and smile back at him hoping he
is
okay.  I then start to daydream at how wonderful our five-star facilities will be on the side of the river.  “Are we there yet?”

He grins happily, “No, but we’d best get our butts home and start pack
ing!”

*****

It’s our last night on the river and I do
not
want to go home.

Sitting under the awning of the gooseneck, I have my feet up on an Esky.  I am also sipping an ice-cold glass of bourbon and
Coke as I watch the fish rolling lazily in the water at front of our camp.   It has been the best holiday I have ever had.

Having been on all sorts of generic holidays to resorts and theme parks, my first horse riding trip to the Murray River has eclipsed them all.  Of all the fun holiday memories I’ve ever had, this one now sits firmly as my number one experience of all-time.

So far I have enjoyed two full days of pure bliss.  Getting up early both mornings, we have ridden the horses for hours along the winding dirt tracks skirting the mighty Murray River.  My golden girls have also spent this time running along behind the horses having the time of their lives.

With wildlife in abundance, we would often need to call the dogs back to us as their attention was distracted by a constant supply of wallabies, ducks, goannas and sometimes even snakes.   Luckily their senses of self-preservation around the snakes were well tuned and they would only growl if they saw one before deciding to stay well away.

The early morning sounds of the cockatoos flocking to the waters’ edge to drink were deafening.  They did this in preparation for the long, hot days but I loved and accepted them as part of the river.  Riding along in the peaceful surrounds of the state forest adjoining the river, I had never felt more at peace with myself and with the company I was keeping.  To avoid the heat of the day, we always rode in the morning and returned to camp by lunchtime.  The afternoons were hot so we spent our time swimming and fishing. 

My girls were now officially
gray and black from being permanently wet and muddy from rolling in the Murray dust.  There were in fact so dirty, I had decided they would travel home in the back with the horses.  There was no need for all that dirt inside the truck cabin.

As I sip slowly on my drink, I take long slow sniffs of air to enjoy the strong eucalyptus smells.  I am waiting for Jax to finish a phone call with his father.  Apologizing that he needed to make the call in private, he had wandered off with my dogs well into the distance, leaving me alone to relax in camp. 

Having just spent the better part of three full days essentially joined at the hip, I am feeling the loss of his presence as I sit alone with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company.   I am having morbid thoughts of having to leave this place and I am having morbid thoughts about going home to my house a few days after that.

The problem first and front in my mind is that I
don’t want to go home.
 

How d
o I tell Jax this?

How do I tell him that I have only known him for just under two weeks and I think that I am in love with him?  How do I tell him the thought of going home makes me want to
cry.
  For me, wanting to cry is a bad thing.  I don’t cry and I’m not a crier.   I am an arguer and a swearer, not a crier, so why do I feel this way?

I have decided that it’s likely that Jax feels something for me as well.  He has been so attentive. 
That and the fact that our bed sports have been nearly blowing the roof of the gooseneck.  We are both fully aware that our sexual compatibility quotient equals
yes! 

Even knowing this I still don’t know how to tell him how I feel.  The more I worry over it, the worse I feel. 

I pour myself another drink and decide that I’ll just get tanked and let it all pour out.  I change my mind again a few short minutes later. I am terrified I will scare the poor guy off so decide I had better not say anything.  I just need to go home, see how I feel after a few days without home and reassess. 

I may just find the strong feelings I am experiencing are purely the result of my closeness to him.  They may just fizzle the moment I get home.

I doubt it though.

I slam another drink down and decide to pour another.

Where is he?

I estimate he’s been gone for over half an hour and I could do with some company.  Feeling lonely, stressed and just a little bit teary, I quickly slug down a third drink.  I then realize that I am starting to feel significantly better.

Things are not so grim with a few under my belt so I decide to pour another.  I then decide to head over to the yards to talk to the horses. 

Feeling tipsy, I find myself annoyed that I can’t just talk to my golden girls like I normally would.  They have once again abandoned me for Jax.

Bitches.

Muttering to myself, I wander to the yards to find Maverick and Trouble happily camped.  Each has their own small yard and they are munching on bales of hay while they slowly swat at the flies with their tails. 

I start to feel sorry for them as they have actually been plagued by both flies and mosquitoes since our arrival.  I have been doing my best to keep the repellent up to them both but the dirt just ends up sticking to it and the flies land on the dirt.

Maverick greets me with a small nicker as he looks up from his hay net.  Because I am empty-handed with no bucket of feed or other suitable snack offering, he decides to ignore me and resume his focus on the hay.  Trouble gives me an interested, yet bored look that says ‘
you are not Jax’. 
It is not long before he turns away from me to look in another direction and focus his attention on his fly swatting skills.

Annoyed that I’m feeling tipsy and that seemingly
no one
wants to spend any time with me, I decide to wander back and sit on the edge of the river.  I then decide to  dangle my feet in the water. 

Five minutes later and I’ve had enough dangling.  This is because the river shrimp like my feet way too much and they are relentlessly nipping at me.  I feel their tiny, razor like claws sting as they nip and I am annoyed that I cannot catch them with my hands.  They are quick and the slightest movement causes them to take off, far out of reach.

Stealth shrimp, I’d eat you as payback if I could catch you!

Starting to feel abandoned, I finish my fourth drink and then try to stand.  I realize that my fourth drink may not have been my best idea of the day.  I realize this when I find myself feeling a lot more tipsy than when I first sat down. 

Swaying slightly, I carefully stand and climb / sway my way back up the bank to the gooseneck.  I do this thinking that perhaps I ought to stay away from the water in my current condition.

Aware I am now at risk of drowning if I should happen to fall in the water, I get myself a glass of iced water and resettle back in my chair under the awning.

I have barely started sipping on my water when I finally hear the sound of Jax striding back to camp.  He rounds the corner of the gooseneck grinning, the girls hot on his heels.  Bending down to lay his signature hot kiss on me, the girls race down to the river and launch in for yet another swim.  Jax eyes my glass of water with surprise and sets about making two more bourbons, one for him and one for me.

Setting my new drink down next to me, I eye it warily and decide to continue with my iced water.  I watch the girls climbing out of the river to start the joyful process of rubbing their shoulders to the ground, back feet peddling as they coat themselves in another layer of dirt.  This goes on for a few minutes before they all decide they have recruited enough dirt to become natives so they head back and flop down at Jax’s feet.

“Bitches,” I mutter drunkenly.  I am becoming despondent that not even my dogs want to spend time with me.

“What was that?” I hear Jax chuckle, “Someone sounds drunk.”

“Fucking bitches.” I mutter again staring into my glass of ice water.  “They now officially love you more than me.  Why is that?” I ask him this not expecting him to answer.  To my surprise, he does, and he does so honestly.

“Beef liver.”
He announces chuckling away and looking impressed with his self.

Confused at his statement, I drag my eyes away from my glass and look into his now cheerfully sparkling blue eyes.  He throws his drink back, and steps up to make another. 

Apparently he’s thirsty.

“What was that?” I ask as my interest is peaked and I realize that he may be giving me the ‘trade secret’.

“Beef liver,” he says as he plunks the bourbon bottle on the table and sits down with his second drink.  He looks across at me, his dimples flashing and his eyes sparkling. 

“That first day when they kept runn
ing off I searched the Internet for, ‘Ways to make your dog like you’.  One of the answers was to rub beef liver on the bottom of your pants so you smelt good to them. 

I did it for the first couple of the days.  Then, between the beef liver and the truck rides, they didn’t need any tempt
ing to be my friends anymore.  They just started hanging around.  I wanted them to like me because I wanted you to like me too.  I figured it was like impressing someone's kids to impress the parent.  Unfortunately, I think I may have overdone it.” 

He chuckles again and swigs some more large mouthfuls of his drink.

Dumbfounded at his revelation, I stare incredulously at him for a few seconds.  Then realizing the hilarity of the ‘beef liver’ solution I tip my head back and
roar
with laughter.  Deep, belly hurting laughter that scares the birds near camp away and has the dogs jumping up to check out what has set me and the birds off.

“That is the most
ridiculous
thing I have ever heard!” I yell between gut-wrenching bellows of laughter.

Jax hits me with his shit eating grin as I feel tears start to drip from my eyes as
I laugh so hard.

Jax slugs back the rest of his next drink and looks over at mine sitting on the table untouched.  “Aren’t you drink
ing?” He asks as he pours himself another.  “Last night on the river, you’re supposed to go hard.”

“I did, but you weren’t here and it got a bit lonely
,” I mumble.  “Did you realize you were gone nearly an hour?”

“Hell no, I didn’t.  Sorry about that.  It was an important call though.  In fact, it was someth
ing I need to talk to you about.” 

I see his eyes sparkling and then a blanket of seriousness shrouds them as he leans over to grab my hand and drag me out of my seat and into his lap.  Settling me sideways, with my butt on his knees and my body turned slightly to point towards him, he turns my cheek to make me look into his eyes.