Broken Wings

Part Twenty Nine - ...back to reality

Chapter Twenty Nine

Aaron had never put so much effort into appearing casual and normal in his life before, because that was what he was doing. Frantically trying to make things work inside, whilst externally returning every riposte that he could to Julia's snappy, snippy ways. All the flight home he'd wondered what her reaction would be to him coming home early.

When he landed he jumped straight in a cab, at that time of night it took less than half an hour to get home, the traffic was better than it could be.

It was just before midnight when he climbed the stairs to the apartment...after all that time in car, plane and cab, he needed to stretch his legs. The dogs would be asleep, otherwise he'd have taken them for a walk. The stairs would have to do.

Opening the doors, he looked to the floor, but there were no dogs welcoming him. He left his bag by the door, then kicked off his shoes with relief. He was still in the suit he'd dressed in that morning, almost eighteen hours earlier. It would have to be cleaned immediately, it felt as though it had bled into his skin at some point. As he stepped into the lounge, he sighed, on the sofa, stretched out, was Julia, both dogs curled up on her legs, exactly like the photo from the previous night.

Hearing him, she glanced over her shoulder and smiled, "you look fit to drop."

He groaned, "sort of. Shitty day."

She wiggled her legs out from under the dogs, in what he thought was some sort of ninja special thing, as they both stayed asleep. Then she got up, stretched and headed for the kitchen.

"You eaten?"

He nodded, "first class food is actually edible."

Julia eyeballed him as she goaded him, "oooh! Look at you Mr First Class. You want a drink? Coffee? Tea? Beer?" She glanced back at him, "or that special whisky you keep in the top cupboard."

His eyes widened at that, "perfect! Would you mind pouring one?"

She shook her head, "not at all. You go change, shower...whatever. I'll do you whisky...rocks?"

He moaned, a real warm, longing moan, and she had to fight the shudder that wanted to erupt through her body like an earthquake. Instead, she watched as he peeped over the back of the sofa at the dogs, then made for the stairs in the corner of the room.

His whisky was in one of those ornate bottles that screamed money, at one point he told her it had been a gift from a big client on completion of a lucrative deal. She'd seen him drink it on only a couple of occasions. And something that good shouldn't be watered down. So, filled a tumbler with ice, then poured some of the amber coloured liquid on top, cracks and clunks signalled the warm liquid and cold ice melding. She was entranced for a moment, then hearing footsteps on the stairs, she turned as Aaron appeared, hair wet, dressed in a sleeveless t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. His jaw was dark with stubble, he hadn't had time to shave, and those sexy glasses were back on his nose, his searching eyes hooded behind them.

Suddenly that tension was back, him watching her, her feeling that pressure. She handed him the tumbler and he took a decent drink, then placed it on the breakfast bar.

"So how has the week been?"

She shrugged, "Ok. Work is busy. SO many schools are visiting. But that's good. Jerome did a couple of guided tours today, he's starting to get as into the Cro-Magna era as I am, which is great. I think it's interesting though, I mean back home you've got SO much history that we get used to it, Stonehenge is older than anything man made in this country, other than probably some things that still exist in the Native American reserves around the country. in Britain, people love new exhibitions, but we're more blasé about it. In my opinion. This country is a few centuries old, and the understanding, the fascination about Bogda...it's wild."