“Shelbs?” The all too familiar voice came from behind and I spun, a smile already forming.
“Corbin?” I asked, with absolutely no uncertainty that the man before me was one and the same.
His voice held the same deep octave, and he elongated the second ess on my name like a sexy little snake. He was also one of only three people who knew I would be here at this time but most importantly, he was a glow up of the blurry image staring at me on my phone.
“The one and only,” he replied, showcasing a grin as he held his palms out with a small shrug.
“Damn. Well, aren’t you a fine wine,” I admired with an exaggerated head to toe assessment.
Corbin had aged well. Remarkably well. Yikes.
His mouth opened slightly, his cheeks turning a shade of pink and I internally noted I might need to rein my bluntness in a little. Tact wasn’t a strength. If it were a thought, I usually voiced it with little care for repercussions. But I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable as I so often seemed to do with others.
“I’m so sorry you look like that,” I said with a gesture towards him, trying to backpedal or redirect – clearly showered, wearing a weather appropriate plain black t-shirt and light denim shorts – “while I look like death warmed up.” I shrugged, adjusting my carry-on bag over my shoulder which still held remnants of toddler spew.
“I really want to hug you, but I was used as a vomit bag on the flight by my little seat mate so it’s probably best if you stand at least one metre away from me until I’ve showered.”
He raised a single brow, confused or regretful I couldn’t be sure, before he nodded once.
“Okay,” he laughed. “Well, let’s get you showered,” he concluded before his cheeks flamed a hilarious red. Again.
“Are you offering?” I asked, proving words always came before thoughts.
“Umm, I–”
“Corbs, I’m joking,” I bit my lip, so I didn’t laugh. “I would love a shower. How far is it to your place from here?” I asked, affording him the out he so desperately wanted.
“About fifteen minutes. And we can leave the windows down,” he smirked, “for everyone’s benefit.”
Taking the bag from my shoulder, he gestured for me to follow, and I stepped in front, only for him to halt my steps with a gentle grip of my wrist.
“Welcome home, Shelbs.” His smile was soft and if I wasn’t covered in someone else’s vomit, I would have wrapped my arms around him and thanked him.
“Wild Watermelon,” I announced, walking into the kitchen to find Corbin sitting at the table on his laptop. I’d showered, taken a nap and was feeling a little more like a human and he was still sitting in the same spot I left him hours ago.
“Fluorescent?” He replied with a raised brow and a smirk I’d noticed a couple of times since arriving.
“I think it’s because of the little welcome pack you made,” I said with a thumb over my shoulder, my bracelets rattling down my arm. On arrival, I’d discovered a freshly made bed with a bottle of water, a colouring-in book, a pack of crayons, a watermelon lip balm and a Caramello Koala left on the pillow. “You’re thoughtful, Corbin Chambers.”
“Mixed Veggies over here,” he said, brushing past my compliment and I grimaced.
“Gross. One of the absolute worst. What’s wrong,” I sat opposite him, placing Mum’s journal in front of me on the table.
“Just reading work emails.”
“I thought you were on forced leave,” I challenged with a slightly sarcastic lilt. One of his most predictable features was his obsession with his job.
In the trip from the airport, he’d told me he didn’t like his routine disrupted and wasn’t even sure what he was going to do while he was on break. Being away from work was new for him and it was obvioushe found the idea uncomfortable. Especially given it was his first day and he’d spent the entire morning working.
“I am,” he sighed, standing and turning on the kettle. “But I have a habit of checking my emails pretty regularly and I don’t remember the last time I took a day off, let alone an indeterminate amount of time,” he admitted. “What if I get bored, return to work early and then everyone realises their suspicions of my lack of social life are not in fact just a rumour?” He asked with another one of those smirks which made my tummy flip.
The laugh tumbled out of me.
He was funny. Unintentionally funny. And damn I loved his accent. Our accents had faded over the years, but Corbin’s was native and broad, and it was appetisingly inviting.
It was a shame he didn’t speak anywhere near as much as I did because I could listen to him all day and had asked many questions just to hear that local drawl. Laid back yet intentional. A compelling infusion for lonely old Shelby.
I should have been better prepared for this. Not that the photo Aunty Ash sent did him any kind of justice, but I was most definitely not expecting to find him as attractive as I did.
