She glared and again noticed he hadn't shaved. When she saw him in the kitchen earlier today, her first thought was he had not shaved, and again she noticed that when she arrived at the shed this evening, and both resulted in her pulse racing. She took a breath. Remember, stay calm. "My mood?" She said quietly. There were times in her life when she wished she was more feisty!
Gray nodded. "Yes. Your foul mood! This mood." He took a deep calming breath. "That is not normal for you! You don't do moody! Stubborn, yes, but not moody." Obviously she was going to be stubborn. "I imagine you have to go back on shift," he glanced at his watch, "in roughly, twenty five minutes."
"Exactly." Her chin lifted a fraction and her eyes narrowed with contained frustration. If only she could contained her feeling for him, this would not be difficult. But finding a way through this emotional maze was a problem, because it was new to her. When you heart and your mind are not in psych. When you yearn for something that has no foundations, how can you imagine a life with someone you barely know? No experience or the knowledge, on how to merge reality with dreams? "You are wasting my time. So..." But he didn't let her complete her sentence. She pursed her lips, counted to ten. It was something she had learned as a child.
He threw his hands up, "Regan, what is going on here?" He interrupted confidently. "Two days ago, roughly at this time, you and I were having a great time." Their chat two days ago, everything crystallised in his head and heart. But what happens if the crystal shatter? Gray blinked back into the present. No, his heart told his mind, do not give up. "I thought, despite the circumstances, we talked, like friends. Really talked. And we laughed. So I would say, it was a bloody good time!" He watched Regan for a few seconds. His pulse raced with frustration and the fact that he liked her. Like, his heart screamed in challenge, not just like, love. Love. Not the right moment to analyse this unexpectedconclusion. Watching the emotions that raced through her eyes, reminded him about the moment when Regan had walked into his life. A simple issue, a change in their social environment, and his person life changed without him noticing. He remembered her showed him this shed, saw the emotions, a mixture of anxiety and hope that raced through her eyes when she saw him looking at the shed. He was sure she saw his reaction, and was disheartened when she recognised that he was ready to laugh at the shambles. Utterly disaster. Close to ruins. Now the shed was tidy, with new equipment, no sign of adversities. But the biggest difference was Regan. Back then she was diffident, agreed to every plan he mentioned during that short tour. Here, today she was strong-willed and disagreed with practically everything!
"So?" She mumbled.
He noticed the defiant look was back in her eyes but ignored it and asked, "So what happened?" She said nothing. "Has something happened at work?" He moved toward her, worried that something awful had happened at work. Sam was right, she was in the wrong profession! Too many accidents, bad luck, ill-health with awful consequences. Each registered with penalties in her own mental and physical health.
"No." She said with deliberate coolness and started to walk away. "I dealt with the mundane aspects at the centre, mainly filing, interrupted with the odd appointments with the usual, everyday, ordinary, routine, mainly the flu jab! Because you, and do let me know where you trained, Dr Cardozo," She glared, "apparently you gave them the impression that I could not manage today!"
He ignored the sarcasm. "I just reminded them thatyou had just come off a one week sick leave!" He narrowed his eyes and added, "So, something has happened?"
She walked away.
He released a long pent up sigh, ran a hand through his hair and followed her. "We need to talk, Regan." He said loudly as he tracked her.
"Can it wait?" She threw over her shoulder, hoping to dissuade him from staying. During the afternoon she had worked out a plan, on how to deal with him if she met him. And that plan vanished like a mist a few minutes ago. Time to rehashed her plan, without his presence!
"No." He said firmly as he reached her shoulder.
"No?" She frowned at him.
"No, it can't wait." He reached toward her shoulder, stopped her, and turned her to face him.
She pinned on that smile he was coming to recognise as her mask. Not for the first time he noticed that it did not reach her eyes. Just tilted her lips, gave the semblance of amicability. What happened to the amicability for two days ago.
He narrowed his eyes. "Have I done something?"
"No." That was the point, her head screamed in silence.
"Is it money related?" This was like pulling out teeth, he thought.
Regan huffed. Obviously he was not going to let up. They were both equally stubborn. She bit her lip and considered her options. She could march away or stay. If she left, she was sure, he would follow, and if she stayed, she would have to answer his questions. Probably the second option was the best, because the first option just stalled his interrogation for a few minutes. She looked at him. There was an air of confidence and arrogance about him when his eyes gave her a leisurely once over. He saw the indecision in her eyes.
She lowered her eyes. "Look, thank you for your help. I thank you for your charity." She was still embarrassed because they had stocked her fridge. Stocked her pantry, while she had been ill last week.
"Charity?" He growled. "What charity?"
She shrugged, and found the courage to look at him, "You found a worker for my farm, someone who had experience and er," and she squirmed and added, "and you sat with me..."
"Are you kidding? Sitting with you is not bloody charity! I sat with you because I enjoyed your company."
"Maybe." She mumbled.
He shook his head. "Maybe?" He threw his hands in the air, "Regan, you are going to have to explain things to me. Because your idea of charity and mine is not the same." He jammed his hands into his jeans' pockets. "We were good, two days ago! And tonight you are cross because I did the evening milking?"
Regan was also thinking about two days ago, when they had talked about his work at his new place and she told him about her school holidays here, at this farm while the waited for Lucy and Sam to return. The way she told it you'd never have known that it was tough. But he knew from her eyes, and when he really listened to her account, he could feel and see her sadness.
"None of this, doesn't make any sense to me." He knew he was going to have to work pretty hard to convince her to take him back, she didn't trust many and he hadn't been his most charming where she was concerned. But two days ago, they were good.
She sighed. Her heart was rattled. This was the problem. They were good, two days ago. It wasn't just about being charming, it was him. The interaction, the way they talked. The feeling that a man really cared for her, someone who listened, someone who understood, someone who accepted her.
He folded his arms, watched the emotions that flicked through her eyes and reached the conclusion that he had overlooked something crucial. "I think I missed something."
"Like what?"
"I should have asked."
"About what?"
"I think I have missed something because I did not ask. We were having such a good time, laughing, even granddad noticed that."
She nodded acknowledging Sam's observations.
Gray's eyes flicked to Regan. "But I did not ask you about the sadness in your eyes." He took her face in his hands and tipped it up so that she was looking straight into his eyes.
She blinked. Then reached for his hands and stepped away. Her pulse already at full throttle and her feelings were descending toward pulp. She said flippantly, allowing her heart to find her normal rhythm "Must be your imagination."
He admonished in exasperation. "From what Mairie told me, does not match your verbal version," Her eyes flashed a warning, but he simply ignored them and continued "but her versions was echoed in your eyes." He said softly. "You gave me an opportunity, two days ago, to ask about your life. I am taking up that offer."
Exasperation was beginning to seep into her voice. "And if I told you, this interrogation would end?"
He scowled, before allowing a rueful grin to escape, "Ok, didn't think it was an interrogation. You know, a clam is more chatty than you!"
She shrugged.
He huffed, he knew she does not trust people easily, so best to explain his reasons, "I am just trying to fill in gaps because of you! Think of it as a debrief!"