#rust chapter 3

She moved to his head and ran her hands through his hair, feeling for any tell-tale bumps. He tensed further before catching her wrists firmly and pulling them away from his face.

“Penelope, I’m fine,” he assured her.

“But, your mouth…”

He frowned then darted his tongue out to the corner and winced. Letting go of her, he touched a finger to his bottom lip and grimaced when it came away smeared with blood.

“It’s nothing, I must have bitten it when we hit, that’s all.”

“Oh, thank God,” she muttered, closing her eyes in sheer relief. The adrenaline that had been holding her rigid snapped all at once, leaving her trembling. “Okay,” she breathed, though her voice cracked on the word. “Okay.”

And then she started to cry.

Eyes closing, it was quiet at first. Tears ran down her cheeks unchecked and then she gasped, shuddering as the reality of what had happened began to catch up with her as she began to sob.

Colin didn’t think twice. He unclipped his seat belt, leaned across the centre console between them, and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her as close to him as he could.

“Hey,” he murmured into her hair. “You’re all right. We’re both all right.”

He held her until the sobs ran their course, his hand moving slowly up and down her back, murmuring soft reassurances until the shaking eased. When her breathing finally steadied, he pressed a gentle hand to her shoulder and leaned back just enough to see her face.

“Better?” he asked softly, running a thumb tenderly across her cheek as a stray tear fell. He looked at her intently waiting for her response.

“Yeah,” she nodded, sniffing as she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“Good.” He gave her a small smile then glanced out of the windscreen that was rapidly getting covered in snow, “I should get out and check the damage.”

She nodded again and he let her go then opened the door and got out.

The cold hit him immediately, chilling his face as his feet sank into the deep snow. Icy flakes swirled all around him catching in his hair and quickly covering his coat as he slammed the door behind him. Through the window he saw Penelope’s face crumple again for a moment before she visibly got herself under control once more. He turned away and took in a shaky breath, trying to calm his own nerves. Though whether it was the last vestiges of shock from the accident or from the unexpected onslaught of emotions he’d just experienced as she’d run her hands all over him was a complete toss up at this point.

Probably both. 

He shook his head slightly. Now was not the time to think about it. Actually, never would be a good time to think about it, he decided. Focusing back on their current predicament, he took a few tentative steps to the front of the vehicle and grimaced. The bumper was wedged hard against a fallen tree branch, the nose of the car angled awkwardly into the ditch. Even without touching anything, he could tell it wasn’t going anywhere tonight.

He pulled out his phone.

No signal.

“Great,” he muttered under his breath. “Just great.”

He cautiously climbed up the incline to the road and tapped the screen again just in case the slightly higher elevation helped. It didn’t. Maybe the weather was causing network problems. Hopefully the car’s tracker would have pinged his location automatically when the engine cut, but if not, all he could do was hope someone from his family would be on the case once they realised that they couldn’t contact them.

He looked up and down the narrow lane. He wasn’t sure exactly where they were, but they could only be about forty-five minutes at the most from Aubrey Hall now. The roads were all similar on the best of days but under a blanket of snow it made it impossible to tell.

Behind him he heard a car door open, then moments later, Penelope joined him, hands shoved deep into her pockets. Her eyes were still puffy, but she seemed more composed than when he’d left her.

“How does it look?” she asked, the wisps of her hot breath carried away in the cold air.

“Not good. It’s stuck fast,” he told her, then held up his phone for her to see. “And I don’t have signal so I can’t call for help. What about you? Do you have anything?”

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and checked the screen, then shook her head.

“Nothing for me, either,” she replied, contrition written all over her face, “I’m sorry. This is my fault. I should have…”

“No.” His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument as he cut her sharply off.  “Penelope, it isn’t your fault. That idiot was on the wrong side of the road. There was nothing you could have done. They’re the one who caused this, not you.”

His voice had risen the more he’d talked, the fear of what could have happened rapidly turning into anger. The prat hadn’t even stopped for Christ’s sake. What if she’d been alone? He swallowed hard, the thought of it making him feel sick.  

“Thank you,” she said quietly, offering him a small smile. Then she shivered quite noticeably.

He was feeling the cold starting to seep into his bones as well. The last thing he wanted was for her to fall ill over Christmas.

“Let’s get back in the car. I’ll see if the engine starts and we can get the heater going at least.”

“No, wait!” Penelope reached out and grabbed his arm before he could move, a hopeful look lightening her face. “I’m sure I saw a for sale sign on the road back there about a half a mile before we crashed. Maybe there’s someone who could help?”

He glanced down the road, but the rapidly falling flakes made it impossible to see clearly. He’d been asleep so hadn’t seen anything but if it wasn’t far, perhaps he should check it out.

“I’ll go take a look,” he decided. “You wait in the car.”

“I will not,” she told him, annoyance flashing in her eyes.

“Penelope…”

“No, Colin, I’m going with you,” she insisted. “What if you fall in a ditch or something?”

“It’s a road…”

“Well, what of a car comes along and you have to – to jump out of the way and slip and hurt yourself?”

“I wouldn’t, I’d flag it down…”

“Even more reason for me to go then because we’d both be saved quicker,” she countered irately. “Look, I’m coming with you whether you like it or not and that’s all there is to it.”

He stared at her mutinous face for a moment and shockingly felt his heart stutter. As cliché as he knew it was, she was stunning in her anger. Sky blue eyes shooting sparks, cheeks flushed, full lips parted, her breath coming out in short gasps.

He’d noticed it earlier that day too, but had been so enraged himself that he’d not given it any real significance.

But now, with the ambient glow from the fresh snow laying all around them lighting up the darkness, her red hair glistening like it was adorned with diamonds from melting flakes and her looking so…so alive, she took his breath away.

He frowned and looked away not liking where his thoughts were going. It must be the accident, he reasoned. They’d had quite a smack. Maybe he’d hit his head as well and just not realised.

A fright like that was bound to be unsettling and probably why she wanted to go with him. She’d clearly been shaken too.

“Fine,” he acquiesced brusquely and gave her a curt nod, “but just be careful. We have enough to worry about without you falling over and hurting yourself.”

Penelope rolled her eyes as he turned away and opened the boot of the car to retrieve a torch. Sometimes he could be the most infuriating man. She marched over as he shut the boot and opened the rear door to retrieve her handbag.

“Might be easier if you don’t carry anything for now. The road could be slippery,” he advised, then raised a brow as she stared right at him and slung it over her shoulder. Remaining silent, he locked the car then nodded in the direction they would be headed down the lane and walked off.

Penelope trudged after him, glaring holes in the back of his head as she tried to keep up with his longer strides.  

“Didn’t realise it was a race,” she muttered irritably.

He didn’t acknowledge her, but she noticed that he did check his pace and slowed enough that she was soon alongside him.

Snow was still falling, thicker now, and the wind had picked up, stinging any exposed skin. The only sound was the crunching underfoot as they kept on going. Their hopes of another car coming along dwindled fast as it became apparent that even though it was barely nine o’clock, it seemed everyone else had decided to be sensible and stay inside to ride out the weather.

Penelope squinted down the lane, toward where she remembered she saw the sign.

“I think we’re nearly there,” she said.

At least she hoped they were. Every step felt like three as the narrow country lane sloped gently, then sharply. Icy patches grew more frequent the farther they went as the temperature dropped and the wet road froze under the fresh snow.

At one particularly bad patch, Penelope slipped and automatically flung out her hand and grabbed onto Colin’s arm to steady herself for a moment before continuing on. She slipped again a few minutes later, hard enough that he reacted on instinct, reaching out first this time to steady her with both hands.

“You okay?” he asked gruffly, breath clouding in the air.

“Yes,” she huffed, though her cheeks were flushed from cold and embarrassment.

His hands lingered a moment then he nodded and they set off once more. At her third stumble he caught her again and this time, didn’t let go. Instead, he laced his fingers through hers and silently guided their hands into the deep pocket of his coat, anchoring her to him as they walked.

Penelope looked up at him wondering what he must be thinking. He was completely focussed on the road and frowning slightly, but she assumed that was more about navigating the treacherous conditions than anything else. Although, if it wasn’t for her deciding to leave, they would be safe back in London right now. A pang of guilt flashed through her just as his tongue darted out to run lightly across the corner of his lip, over the spot he’d bitten in the crash.

Her gaze caught on the movement, and the memory of their kiss hit her with dizzying force. It had been nothing like she’d imagined it, all those nights alone when her mind strayed to him as her hand strayed down her body. No. It had been so much better.

So much more.

When he’d played along with the mistletoe, she’d thought it’d just be a brief peck and, at the first gentle brush of his mouth, she still believed he would pull back and that would be it. She’d been completely unprepared for the moment he’d pulled her in tighter, deepening the kiss with a heat that had stolen all the breath from her lungs. And then everything had blurred into sensation. The strength of his arms around her. The warmth of his body pressed to hers. It had been overwhelming, intoxicating and…the ache of knowing it wouldn’t happen again settled low in her chest.

It hurt.

“What hurts?”

She blinked then raised her eyes to see that he was looking back at her with a concerned expression. Her pulse skyrocketed suddenly as she realised that she must have spoken aloud.

“Your lip!” she blurted out. “I said, does your lip still hurt? From the crash. When you bit it.” She gestured vaguely toward his mouth, praying he bought it. “Does it?”

“A bit.” He looked at her consideringly, his gaze dropping down her body and back up again. “Are you sure that’s all it was?”

She gave him as bright a smile as she could manage seeing as her face felt almost frozen in place.

“Of course. What else could it be?” she challenged.

His gaze lingered on her face a moment longer, then he shrugged.

“I don’t know. Maybe you’re hurt and you don’t want to tell me.”

He wasn’t wrong, she supposed. It just wasn’t physical.

“I’m fine,” she assured him with a more genuine smile this time. “I was just w…oh, look! There it is.”

She stopped and pointed ahead of them. Colin looked around and saw a large estate agent sign a few feet away on their side of the road, snow stuck fast to the board, obscuring the writing.

“Thank God,” he said and started walking again, all but dragging Penelope along with him. “Hopefully someone will be in and we can get some help.”

The sign was placed at the top of a fairly long drive. As they began to head down, it was obvious that whoever lived there hadn’t been out recently because the snow was completely unblemished.

Colin’s hope of someone being home faded the nearer they got to what appeared to be a modest sized cottage. The windows were dark with no signs of life from within.

“Brilliant,” he muttered under his breath then pulled their hands out of his pocket and let her go. “I’ll check the door.”

The brown paint was peeling in a couple of places which made him think that the property had been on the market for a fair while. He thumped his fist against the tired looking wood and waited a moment. When he didn’t see any movement behind the opaque window panels, he decided they’d have to get in another way.

“Should we try around the back?” Penelope suggested from behind him. Her answer was the tinkling sound of glass shattering and then the door creaking as it swung open. “Colin! What are you doing?”

“Breaking in,” he replied matter-of-factly. He stood back and gestured for her to go in before him. “After you.”

“You can’t do that,” she admonished, looking at him aghast.

“I just did,” he pointed out, holding up the torch that he’d used to smash in the window. “Now, are you coming in or going to stand out here and freeze?”

She hesitated a moment longer, then a particularly icy breeze blew a gust of snowflakes into her face and she hurriedly stepped over the threshold, straight into the lounge.

Her shoes crunched on the broken glass that littered the carpet and she gave a little shiver. In truth, inside didn’t feel any better than the outside apart from the lack of wind. It was cold, damp and stale with the unmistakable feel of a place that hadn’t been lived in for months.

Colin closed the door behind them then swept the torch around as they brushed the excess snow off their coats. The cottage was furnished, although everything seemed well used and a little worse for wear. A large worn sofa, small coffee table, a couple of mismatched chairs. They were likely aiming for eclectic but it merely came off messy. He located the light switch and flicked it on, relieved to find it worked. They had electricity at least.

Penelope blinked, letting her eyes adjust to the sudden brightness and looked around now that she could see everything more clearly. It was open plan with the usual basic magnolia walls and the furniture all chintz. Despite the neglected air, it still felt cosy in a way.

“Looks like it was a holiday let,” she surmised just as few flakes blew in from the broken window and swirled around in a mini tornado before landing at her feet. “I’ll look for something to block that up,” she added, giving him a mildly reproving look.

Colin merely nodded and headed towards the kitchen.

“I’ll see if I can find the boiler and get some heat into this place.”

They went about their tasks quickly. Penelope found a cupboard that still had some basic cleaning products and essentials. She emptied a box that had some tattered Christmas decorations in and flattened it down then set about trying to wedge the cardboard into the broken pane the best she could. It wasn’t completely successful, but it blocked out the worst of it.

Colin, meanwhile, had found the gas boiler but as with the rest of the house, it was an older model. After several attempts at trying to ignite the pilot light, he assumed that it was either broken or the amenity had been cut off.

Probably wise if no one was using the place, but incredibly frustrating, nonetheless.

“The boiler’s no good,” he announced as he went back into the lounge, then froze.

Penelope had removed her coat and was on her hands and knees gingerly picking up the shards of glass that were stuck in the carpet by the door and placing them into a dustpan.

The jumper she wore was riding up a little showing off her black clad thighs and backside. The leggings she wore clung lovingly to every curve as his gaze roamed avidly over her form. Feeling his heart began to pick up pace, he determinedly dragged his gaze away but then saw her wince and let out a soft pained cry as she jerked her hand back.

“Ow!”

“What have you done?” he asked, going over to her quickly and dropping to one knee as she sat back.

“Nothing, I just caught my finger on a bit of glass, that’s all.”

She put her finger to her mouth and sucked on the blood that had started to seep out.

“Let me see,” he demanded, holding out his hand.

Penelope was about to object again but she recognised that stubborn tone of his and knew he wasn’t going to be swayed.

“It really is nothing,” she muttered, even as she showed him her cut. “See? It’s pretty much stopped already.”

Colin ignored her and checked the wound thoroughly to make sure there wasn’t any glass still in there. Satisfied it was clear, he stood up and pulled her with him.

“Why don’t you have a look around upstairs and see if you can find any blankets or something. We’re going to need them to keep warm.” He gestured to the floor. “I’ll finish up here and then I’ll go back to the car and grab some of our things and leave a note in case anyone happens to drive by.”

“You’re not going alone,” she told him, turning to grab her coat.

He reached out and took a gentle hold of her wrist, then released it just as quickly when his heart gave a little jolt at the contact.

Christ.

“Yes, I am, Penelope, and you’re going to stay here. I’ll be a lot quicker by myself.”

He hadn’t meant it to come out quite as abrupt as it had and the brief flicker of hurt in her eyes brought with it a pang of remorse. He turned away. It felt like this whole day had been one long assault on his very existence and he just needed to get out and get himself back under control. Bending down, he quickly cleared up the rest of the glass then straightened and turned to see her holding out a piece of paper to him.

He could see by the perforated edges that it had been torn out of a notebook and had her familiar neat penmanship on it.

“I’ve written the note out for you, so you don’t have to do it there,” she told him curtly. “Save you a bit of time in case the weather gets worse.”

He looked down at the paper and back up at her again, that feeling of remorse kicking back in.

“Thanks,” he muttered, taking it from her carefully so as not to touch her again. He scanned it quickly, then folded it up and put it into his pocket.

She nodded then turned and walked away, a brisk, “Take care,” floating back to him as she disappeared upstairs.

He stared after her a moment, jaw tightening as he fought the urge to follow.

What the hell was happening to him?

Shaking his head, he stalked into the kitchen and dumped the glass into the bin. He could hear her moving about upstairs and almost called up to let her know he was going but decided against it.

He’d already told her what he was doing for God’s sake.

He headed towards the door then paused when his gaze fell upon the fireplace. There was some wood in the basket by its side, not much, but enough to get a fire started at least and he could look for more outside when he returned.

Glancing back at the stairs, he told himself it was for the benefit of both of them. He’d need the warmth after going out in that weather for a second time, especially with the temperature dropping as the night crept on.

Getting the torch out of his pocket, he crouched in front of the fireplace then checked to make sure that the flue was open. Grabbing a couple of small logs from the basket, he found a few crumpled up pages of newspaper underneath that would be perfect for kindling.

Quickly arranging it all in the hearth, he looked around for some matches and after a short search, found a box in the cleaning closet. He struck one and cupped his hand to shield it from any draft then touched it to the paper. The dry pages flared immediately and he leaned in, giving the flames a few soft, steady breaths until the kindling began to crackle.

He stood up and watched for a few seconds to ensure it continued to burn, then heard a creak on the stairs behind him.

Penelope was coming back down.

His heart gave a tiny, traitorous jerk and he tensed.

There it was again. That flicker of something unwelcome that had been slipping under his defences all bloody day.

Suddenly, the room felt stuffy, the meagre heat from the fire stifling.

He began to move before he even realised it, his feet carrying him outside into the freezing night. The door slammed shut behind him and he took a few steps before stopping, hands fisted at his sides as he gulped down a breath of icy air, then another.

Every inhale burned, but it was a pain he understood and it was far easier to manage than whatever the hell had been happening to him inside that cottage.

His mouth curved up into a derisive smile. Whatever the hell had been happening to him ever since she’d handed in her resignation, if he was honest with himself.

His glanced back toward the dim glow of the window. Penelope would be down by now. He could almost see her there: curled up by the fire, wrapped in a blanket, cheeks rosy, red hair glowing…

He shut the thought down hard, jaw clenching.

No.

Not doing this.

Not with her.

Not with anyone.

Never again.

Turning away, he walked off into the darkness, letting the night close around him like the armour he’d placed around his heart.

Armour that alarmingly, for the first time in years, didn’t feel quite so impenetrable anymore.