Persuading Spring: A Sexy New Zealand Romance (The Four Seasons Book 4) (22 page)

“He has such a lot of character,” Aaron
said. “Do you remember the day he came into the surgery and chased that cat?”

She laughed in spite of herself, casting a
weak smile at Bridget as she joined them on the deck with a tray of cups of
tea. “Yes, I remember. I gave him such a scolding, and he looked at me with his
big brown eyes as if to say, ‘But Mum…!’”

Aaron smiled and slid his hand under the
dog’s thigh. He felt for a pulse, but couldn’t find one.

“I can’t believe he likes bananas,” he
said, waiting a little while just to make sure. “I think he’s the only dog I’ve
ever known who would eat them.”

“He loves most fruit. Oranges, apples. But
he barks at grapefruit. He thinks it’s biting him because it’s so sharp.”

Aaron removed his hand and stroked the
dog’s ear. “He’s gone, Harriet. I’m very sorry.”

She looked down in surprise. “Oh. Are you
sure?”

“There’s no pulse. He just slipped away. He
wasn’t in pain. That’s a wonderful way to go—on the deck where he loved to be,
with his favorite person in the whole world.”

Opposite him, Bridget covered her mouth
with a hand.

“That’s good,” Harriet said, still stroking
him. “That’s good. Thank you, Aaron. You’ve been so good to him. He loved Joe,
but you were his favorite vet.”

Aaron swallowed hard as tears poured down
her face. “Can I call anyone for you?”

She shook her head and tried to wipe them
away. “I’ll be okay. It’s just the shock, that’s all.”

“Aw.” He put his arm around her and held
her as she sobbed, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“I’m sorry,” she squeaked.

“It’s okay.” He met Bridget’s glassy eyes
and saw that her face was wet, too. “He was well loved. Not every creature is
that lucky.”

*

After a while, Bridget managed to persuade
her to go inside and sit in a comfortable armchair. Aaron already knew that Harriet
wanted Barnaby to be cremated, so he picked up the dog and carried him to the
car before returning to the living room.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to call
anyone?” He dropped to his haunches again before her. Bridget sat to her right,
holding her hand.

“No, I just want to be alone.” The old lady
was tearful but calm. “I’m going to go through my photo albums tonight and
think about all the good times we had. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I’ll give you a call in a few days,
and I’ll bring you his ashes, help you bury them in the garden, if you’d like.
Maybe plant a tree or something over them?”

“That would be lovely, thank you Aaron.”
She smiled at Bridget. “And thank you too. You make a lovely couple.”

They smiled at that unexpected compliment.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Bridget said.

Touched and relieved that at no point had
Bridget remarked that it was ‘only a dog,’ he pushed himself to his feet and
took her hand. “All right, we’ll leave you to it. But you can call me anytime
if you need me, okay? You know my mobile number.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

He led Bridget out to the car.

It was only a short drive to the surgery.
Bridget held his hand the whole way, fighting against tears. He squeezed it
occasionally, telling her he was aware of her emotion. He hadn’t shed any tears
himself, but she’d seen him get choked up when the old lady had told him he was
the dog’s favorite vet.

When they arrived, he said, “Stay here,”
and she didn’t argue. She heard him go around to the back of the car and
retrieve the dog, then watched him carry the spaniel across to the surgery.

When he’d disappeared, she leaned her head
on the rest and covered her face with her hands.

If she hadn’t already fallen in love with
Aaron, she would have done so that afternoon. Watching him examine the dying
dog and then get down on the floor to comfort his owner, she’d felt overwhelmed
with emotion. He had such a huge heart and incredible compassion. Just being
with him made her feel a better person. How could she ever let that go?

She wiped her face and composed herself
while he was gone. This had to be one of the more unpleasant parts of his job.
Kind of like being a doctor, she thought—present for both births and deaths, a
part of the cycle of life in all its guises. She loved that about him, that he
hadn’t shied away from being there when the dog died, so the old lady wasn’t on
her own. He wasn’t afraid of emotion like some men were.

When he came out, she didn’t miss that her
heart gave a little leap at the sight of him. He locked the door and walked
across to her. He looked tired, his shoulders sagging a little, shadows under
his eyes. He got in the car and sat there for a moment, then without another
word started the engine and pulled away. She waited for him to speak, but he
didn’t say anything, so she remained quiet, giving him some space.

She thought he was going to head for his
house, but to her surprise he turned off onto the road that headed toward the
beach. It was only a short drive, and within minutes he’d parked on the grassy
verge above the sand. It was nearly six o’clock now, the sun heading toward the
horizon and giving a crimson blush to the blue sky. There was hardly anyone on
the beach, just another couple walking away from them at the other end.

She wondered whether he’d want to talk in
the car, but he got out, so she did too. He locked the car and walked down onto
the sand.

Biting her lip, she followed him. She
couldn’t quite read his mood. Obviously he would be upset about the dog, but
she sensed it was more than that.

His family had upset him that afternoon,
although she wasn’t quite sure whether it was because he’d felt embarrassed at
their questions or angry that they were pressing him to think about the
decision he was going to have to make.

Had he decided it would be too hard to
continue seeing her? Or was he worried she might not want to see him?

Just then, he held out a hand to her. Relief
fluttering in her stomach, she slipped hers into it, welcoming the close of his
fingers around hers.

“Izzy told me at the party that she and Joe
can’t have kids,” she said. “Things like that, and what happened to Barnaby,
tell me there can’t be a God.”

Aaron shrugged. “You could argue that
because they can’t have kids, they’ll probably adopt and take care of a baby
that somebody else can’t, so maybe there is a plan to it. And as for Barnaby…
Buddhists say that life is impermanent and ever-changing, and it’s fighting
against change that brings us pain. They say we need to accept that pain and
suffering is part of life, because people and things don’t live forever and
have to decay and die.” He gave her a wry smile. “It’s not as easy as it sounds
though.”

“You like Buddhism?”

“I like some of its ideas. It doesn’t make
life fair, though. It’s not fair that Joe and Izzy can’t hold their own child
in their arms. Everyone should know what that feels like.” He turned his gray
gaze to her. “Do you want kids?”

She nibbled her bottom lip, feeling them edge
toward the real issue. “Yes, I think so. The responsibility scares me, but in
essence, I think life is about procreating and leaving something behind when
you’re gone, don’t you?”

“I do.” He looked out to sea.

“Do you think you’d like more kids?”

He hesitated for a moment, and then looked
back at her. “Maybe.”

She held her breath. She couldn’t read the
look in his eyes.
Give me something
, she begged, but he remained quiet
and wary.

Deciding to take a chance, she said, “So,
you’re crazy about me?” His words at the party had shocked and thrilled her. It
was the first time he’d really said how he felt.

He sighed then, and his lips curved up. “I’m
completely crazy about you. You must have guessed that by now?”

She gave a sexy little shrug. “Maybe. Well,
I suppose that’s a start.”

“Yes, it’s a start.”

She looked at the boats crossing to Paihia
and heading out to the islands. To the north, gannets were diving, probably for
pilchards or mackerel, she thought, remembering what the man on board the
dolphin watch boat had told her. She’d discovered a love of the sea, and she’d
proudly related her new knowledge to Aaron, but of course he’d already known.
He’d told her that gannets could live to be thirty-five, which had surprised
her, then he’d laughed at her indignant glare that he always seemed to know
more than she did.

“I’m a vet,” he’d said. “And I live in the
Bay of Islands. I know a bit about the animals that live here.” At the time, it
had made her smile. Now, the memory only added to the warmth that was blooming
inside her.

The spring breeze blew across her face,
blowing the cobwebs from her emotions, and suddenly it seemed that there was
only one real question that needed asking—or answering.

“I’d like to see you again,” she said.

He stopped walking and turned to look at
her, shock on his face. Shock that she’d been brave enough to speak, or shock
that she’d admitted she wanted to see him again? She took the opportunity of
his silence to study his face that was becoming so familiar to her, his
aquiline nose, his gray eyes that she now knew held a hint of green near the
irises, his generous mouth that he liked to press to hers so much, his strong
jaw that was showing a few days’ growth again, because she’d learned that he
had sensitive skin and shaving sometimes brought him out in a rash.

“For God’s sake,” she said, “say
something.”

“You want to see me again?” He looked as if
he didn’t quite believe it.

She moved closer to him, holding his hands
in hers by their sides. “I’d like to. But I understand if you want to call it a
day.”

“Call it a day?”

“If you don’t want to see me again.”

He stared at her. “Of course I want to see
you again.” He spoke as if she’d said something idiotic.

She couldn’t suppress a smile at that. “Are
you sure?”

He blinked, and with a sudden rush of
understanding she realized he’d been overcome with emotion. He looked away,
swallowing hard, and she softened inside like a marshmallow dropped into hot
chocolate.

“Aw.” She led him over to a bench and
pulled him down beside her.

He cleared his throat and leaned forward,
his elbows on his knees. “Sorry. It’s been a tough few days.”

Of course, he’d had the trouble with his
son to think about, the hassle with his family today, and now the incident with
the poor dog.

“It’s okay.” She rubbed his back. “You have
such a large heart. I love you for that.”

He turned his head then to meet her gaze,
his eyes questioning.

“I know it’s too soon to say it,” she said.
“I’m not daft, and I’m not leaping into anything. Love’s like evolution—it
takes time to develop, and I’ve never believed in insta-love. But if it’s not
love I’m feeling, I’m not quite sure what to call it. When I look at you, my
stomach flutters and I find it difficult to catch my breath. I want to be with
you all the time. I can’t think of a single thing I don’t like about you.
Everything you do makes me smile, from the way you eat a packet of crisps in
two mouthfuls, to how you throw cushions at your dogs and pretend it was me.
You’re strong and kind and compassionate and warm, and you treat me like I’m
something special, like I’m a princess. I love the way you look at me, as if
you’re thinking about what I look like naked all the time.”

“That’s usually the case,” he said with a
half laugh, studying his hands.

“Do you feel the same?” She ran her fingers
through his hair. “Because if we do try to make this work, it’s not going to be
easy. If you’re not sure… if you’ve had a good time but you think what you feel
isn’t going to be strong enough to keep us together, I’d much rather you say
now, no hard feelings. I’ve had a fantastic time, and being with you has done
exactly what I hoped it would—proven to me that what happened between Mal and
me wasn’t my fault, or at least it wasn’t only my fault. It’s proven that I’m
still attractive, and that I am capable of loving and being loved by someone.
That in itself has made it worthwhile.”

He was still leaning forward, but now he
lifted and half turned on the bench to face her. “I’ve made the mistake before
of falling in love too soon. That’s why my family and friends are worried,
because they’re afraid I’m going to make the same mistake again. But this is
different from before.”

Her pulse raced, but she sat quietly,
almost holding her breath, desperate to hear him say the words. “Really?”

He reached out and tucked a strand of her
hair behind her ear. “I was a lot younger then. I believed that I loved Nita
from the moment I saw her. Now, I’m older and wiser. I know that a relationship
has to be built on more than desire. We had nothing in common, not movies, or
music, or an understanding of animals, or a love of the sea, but I didn’t think
it mattered.”

He looked out at the sunset, and his eyes
were distant, so she knew he wasn’t seeing the ruby-red clouds or the threads
of orange that wove through the purple sky. “The failure of our marriage was my
fault as much as hers—I know that now. Not because I didn’t try hard, because I
did, but because by proposing so quickly I didn’t give time for love to grow,
and for us to discover whether we were right for one another.”

He looked back at Bridget then, his gaze
caressing her face. “Because of that, I’m scared to say I love you, because I
am afraid of making the same mistake again. In spite of that, though, I can’t
deny what I feel for you. I want you—everything about you heats my blood, from
the way you move—you kind of sway when you walk, did you know that?—to the way
you brush your hair until it shines, to your gorgeous lingerie that confuses me
because I can’t work out whether I want to leave it on so it frames your
luscious body, or rip it off so I can slide my hands over your skin.”

She shivered. “Aaron…”

“But it’s not just desire I feel,” he
continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “I do feel the same way you do. When I
looked up in the surgery that day and saw you standing in the door, my heart
leapt—I can’t think of any other way to describe it. And it still does it each
time I look at you. I love the way we like the same things. I love your sense
of humor, and how you laugh all the time—you
get
me. Do you know how wonderful
that feels?”

She pressed her fingers to her mouth as
emotion overwhelmed her. “Oh, Aaron…”

“I love watching you,” he said softly,
tipping his head as if her emotion fascinated him. “I love watching you sit on
the floor with my dogs and the way you take the time to find that spot behind
their ear that makes their back leg twitch. I love how you butter toast with a
spoon if you can’t find a knife, and how you put marmalade on so thick it drips
off the edge. I love that little noise you make when I kiss you—the same noise
you make when you’re eating chocolate, by the way—a cross between a sigh and a
moan that gives me a hard-on in seconds.”

Her cheeks grew warm and she dropped her
gaze, but he slid a finger beneath her chin and lifted it so her eyes met his
again.

“I can’t love you yet,” he said simply,
“but somehow, I think I do.”

They studied each other for a long, long
time.

“Okay,” she said eventually. “So that’s a
yes to seeing each other again, then?”

His lips curved up. “That’s a yes.” He bent
his head and touched his lips to hers for a tender kiss. Then he leaned back
against the bench.

“It won’t be easy,” she said.

“No, it won’t. But life is fleeting, and
I’m not going to give up on a chance of happiness just because it’s hard. We
need time, Bridget. I need to sort things out with Nita, and work out what’s
happening with Mateo. You need time on your own to make sure Mal’s out of your
system. We need to date and phone and text and Facebook and go to the movies
and make love as often as we can and just let it happen.”

Hope bloomed inside her, as sweet and
beautiful as his kiss. “That sounds lovely.”

“I’ll be down next weekend. Maybe we can
start then?”