Aprons for Gayle

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter is longer than my others, done just because there was such a long wait for the previous chapter. Thanks for your comments and votes. They are really appreciated.

And thanks to my editor, Scooter!!

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SATURDAY, AUGUST 10th, 2013

"Gayle, get up NOW!" Hamish hollered for the third time from his bedroom as he dressed for the day. "You've still got to load the basket with food and--"

"Sir?! Why are you yelling at me?" Gayle asked as she walked into his bedroom carrying a tray with two cups of coffee, which she placed on the table in front of the couch. "I've been up for half an hour."

He was just reaching for his t-shirt on his bed when he turned to face her, pulling the t-shirt over his head. "I thought I heard you answer. Ah," he said when he saw the coffee. "Give a man a coffee and you win smartie points." He chuckled, grabbed a mug and took a sip.

"What do you want me to wear today, since you won't tell me where we're going?"

"I'll find you a t-shirt, and your jeans will be fine but sans your briefs. You won't need them." He went to his closet and came back with her notebook and Stephen King's 'It.' "It's officially Saturday."

She smiled, took them then took a much-needed sip. "Thanks, Sir. I never did thank you for giving me my picture back the other day. I need to get started on writing, and I have a week to catch up on it. May I start when we get back?"

"Of course. I have some work to do so that'll be fine."

"Um, I don't remember going to my bedroom last night. You didn't carry me, did you?"

"I did. You must have been quite knackered. You only muttered something when I covered you." He retrieved a t-shirt with 'THE WHO' on front which appeared to be thirty years old then handed it to her.

"Thanks," she said as she took it. "Are you going to want breakfast?"

"Maybe just some cereal and fruit. They're forecasting storms this afternoon so we'll eat lunch early so we're back in time. Let me see your hand."

She showed him her palm, which was still a little pink but no longer blistered. "It doesn't itch anymore. Maybe I landed in a little sprig of the nettles. My blood pressure is normal, too, nothing compared to yesterday after I finished cooking. I wasn't surprised it was so high, considering the ..."

"I'm glad to hear that. I'll let Jack know."

"Well, I'm going to take a bath. When do you want to leave?"

"Whenever you're ready."

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"Yeah, her blood pressure is normal, she says, and her palm does look better."

Hamish was on the phone with Jack updating him on Gayle's condition while Gayle cleaned the dishes and put them away. She listened in carefully, why she didn't know. Yes, they were talking about her, but she hoped to hear something nice from her boss.

"Golf next weekend, mate, Sunday? I feel like kicking your ass again ... Sod off. I can't convince you it was skill and not luck ... Great, actually. Just waiting on Ms. Boyce to get her ass moving. We're going to ... ah, it's a surprise."

Gayle had whipped her head around hoping to hear where they were going. Finally finishing the clean-up, she put the picnic basket on the table where Hamish was sitting. One side had the plates, silverware and cloth napkins, while the other side was for the food. She then pulled out the food in storage containers from the fridge and set them on the table.

WOOOOOFFF! Bessie barked, obviously smelling the chicken and thinking she'd get some.

"Nope, sorry, poochers. This is people food," she whispered. "I won't forget your nibbles."

Leaning forward while he listened to Jack, he opened the small one and popped a deviled egg in his mouth. Gayle looked at him disapprovingly as he chewed, not caring how disgusting it was. But then she couldn't help but grin.

"No, no. It's all planned. She doesn't know about it yet, though." He licked his fingers, staring her down, daring her to say anything. "Thought I'd tell her the day before. She loves surprises."

"Ew. I don't like surprises while watching you talk and chew at the same time," she whispered, but made sure he could hear her. She gave him a sly grin before she grabbed two water bottles.

A few minutes later the basket was neatly packed with the fried chicken, potato salad, eggs and biscuits, all her mother's recipes. She was excited but nervous about him eating it. Well, he'd eat it, she knew, but didn't know if he'd like it.

"Oh, yes. She is still quite mouthy and testing my patience waiting for her to finish packing." Giving her a dirty look, he grinned, his eyes playful.

She gave him a quirky smile before she retrieved Bessie's food and her bowl then put them on the top. He was just finishing up the phone call when she locked the basket.

"Right. Sunday it is. Go ahead and have the flyers printed as is ... Will do. Laters." He put the phone in the front pocket of his jeans. "Are you quite ready now?" he huffed, all of his patience seemingly exhausted.

"Yes, with the packing. I just need to go upstairs to do something."

He sighed heavily and put the basket by the door. "You have five minutes."

"Well, it might take me ten," she told him, her cheeks flushed.

"You have seven."

"I'll need fifteen now. You can't rush a good clitty rub." That caught his attention, but before he could say anything she smiled before adding, "Only joking. One can't rush mother nature, boss."

"Bloody hell. That was more information than I needed."

Giving him a cutsy smile, she said, "Hey, it wasn't my fault. You wouldn't leave it alone. I'll be back before you know it."

Hamish sighed. He knew when he was beaten. "Ok, but be quick about it."

Finally, Hamish, Gayle and Bessie walked toward an SUV that she hadn't seen before. It was a Range Rover Vogue in metallic green, its paintwork glistening in the early morning sun. She wondered if a step ladder was included so she could climb on board.

She looked at Hamish and back to the luxury car again. "Do you know that this gas guzzler is responsible for destroying half the Amazon rain forest? I read an article about it that says it only does twenty miles to the gallon."

"Absolutely right, and that's downhill with a following wind. Now do you want to go out today or not?"

Gayle decided that discretion was the better part of valour and keeping her mouth firmly shut was the best way forward.

Once they were on the road, Gayle's nose was glued to the door window once again. They'd only been driving fifteen minutes and the scenery hardly changed at all from the green farm land.

"Ugh, more fields," she muttered.

WOOOOOOOFFF! Bessie gave her two cents worth as she went from window to window in the boot.

"Bessie knows where we're going. Look," Hamish said, pointing to a sign.

"I don't speak Doggish, Sir," she teased before she saw the sign.

'WELCOME TO TENTSMUIR FOREST'

"Forest? There are a few trees up ahead and it's a forest?!" she exclaimed.

He laughed. "You've seen nothing yet."

A few minutes later the road was engulfed with tall, thin trees lining most of the way with an occasional field with cattle and sheep beyond them.

"Okay," she noted, "There are more than two trees so I guess that's what y'all call a forest."

He tsk'd and shook his head. "Oh, ye of little faith."

"Yep."

And he was right. By the time they'd come to the parking lot the trees had definitely morphed into a full blown forest with a large man-made clearing filled with parking spaces. Dotted around the area were about a dozen picnic benches, about half of which were being used by couples and families.

Hamish parked next to an unoccupied table and killed the engine. As Gayle got out of the Rover, she exclaimed excitedly, "Oh, my god! I can hear the ocean!"

Hamish had just let Bessie out of the back door, and they met her on the other side. Giving her the leash, he said, "No. Sorry. It's just the wind blowing through the trees."

She instantly deflated, even though she could have sworn she smelled the salty waters. "Well, crap."

He chuckled then got out a light jacket and handed it to her. "Just in case you need it. We have a short, leisurely walk then we'll come back and eat your lovely grub in the picnic area."

She nodded and Bessie led them on the narrow path through the trees that became denser still, and with the arrival of the plush greenery, the reddish-purple marsh orchids and yellow Bird's-foot-trefoils, every care she had in the world was gone.

"Hey!" she said as she pointed to some berries set deeper among the trees. "Are those blueberries?!"

"Yes, though we call them sloes. We use them to make sloe gin via a recipe which is passed down through the generations, a tradition, if you will. They're harvested in October or November around the time of the first frost, mixed in a concoction of other secret ingredients in a demi-john and left until it's ready to drink three months later."

"Okay, I know gin is alcohol, but from blueberries?!"

"Oh, yes. Potent stuff, it is too. The local community has an annual tasting competition with a prize for the best."

"I don't like gin, I don't think."

"Have you ever tried it?"

She laughed. "Well, um, no. But Dad told me to try everything I don't normally eat at home while I'm here because I don't know when or if I'll be back."

"Good advice. I'll have you try some later."

"Oh, no. You just want to see me drunk."

"Damn. You're catching on fast, aren't you?"

She suddenly took in a sharp, deep breath after smelling the salty waters of a beach again and realized it wasn't just the wind that sounded like an ocean. But she decided not to say anything, though she allowed herself to believe it was indeed a beach.

Further down the trail, Bessie suddenly lurched forward on her leash and started barking at the low sand dune that lay before them. A sign declaring:

'KINSHALDY BEACH'

"Well, would you look at this!" Hamish exclaimed with a sly grin. "It appears we've hit the end of the road! Whatever shall we do now?" he said sarcastically and too dramatically.

Gayle looked at him wide-mouthed and narrowed her eyes at him playfully. "You lied!" she cried out then laughed. "You had me thinking I was going insane or something."

"Oh, but you are, lass, after those damned giggles you had last night."

She smartly ignored his comment as they stepped over the dune to the sprawling, wide beach. There were a few thick tree branches scattered about, as if a storm had blown in and brought the trees out to play. About ten feet away were little pink crabs peeking their tiny, little eyes out looking for predators, aka a canine named Bessie, who pulled like a freight train to be free to chase after them.

"Alright, alright. You'd think you'd have learned your lesson that you'd never catch one." He detached the leash and she tore off, pouncing on the small holes and barking enthusiastically.

The movement from above and in front of them drew Gayle's attention to the birds, which were quite small white birds with black on the back of the head and a long, yellow duckbill. They were outnumbered by the seagulls, squawking loudly and flying gracefully.

As she looked out toward the waves, which appeared to be not too dangerous and definitely perfect for wave diving, she heard herself say, "Huh. Even the waves sound different here."

As they walked towards the shore there were more crab holes that she had to walk around, though she still stepped on more than she wanted to. She squealed a few times which made Hamish shake his head unbelievingly.

"Ms. Boyce, please explain to me how the hell any ocean can sound different crashing to the shore?"

"Oh, um, I didn't mean to say that out loud. Granny swore even the birds chirped differently on their travels. Grandad thought she was insane, too."

"So, it does run in the family," he teased.

"I would disagree with you but I have no valid argument. One rainy day the TV guide got wet -- they had staples in the middle back then. So she put it in the microwave and turned it on to dry it. Let's just say the sparks flew, literally." She chuckled and side-stepped squashing a little crab.

"She didn't!" he asked, aghast.

"I'm afraid so. THEN what does she do?! She puts in an odor eliminating candle."

"Lit?"

"Oh, yes. Burned a nice sized hole right in the middle."

"Jings! What did your grandfather do?"

Bessie came running back to the pair with a stick in her mouth, her tail swishing crazily back and forth. Hamish took it and threw it to the water's edge, and Gayle was amazed the dog wasn't even afraid of the water.

She continued her story. "He banned Granny from buying a new one for two years." He laughed boisterously. "The thing is she purposely burned dinner or messed up his grits until he got so fed up it forced him to buy one."

They laughed for a moment. "So that's where you get your sassiness from?"

"Most definitely."

She didn't know why, but she appreciated that he was a good listener. It had been a while since she'd talked about her grandparents and doing so now was comforting. The main point was that it made her feel like he cared about her, not that she was just a maid.

When they got to the water's edge, Gayle looked up and down the beach, surprised there weren't tons of bathers lounging on beach chairs or even children screaming and laughing as they played in the water. There were many couples walking their dogs and a few families making sand castles, but that was it. Regardless, the sky was a beautiful blue with white puffy clouds, and the wind was pretty strong; she was relieved she'd put her hair back in a ponytail.

After Bessie brought the stick to her master several times, Hamish said, "Watch this." He threw the dog toy about ten feet into the ocean. She went in after it with no fear of drowning, took it in her mouth and came back out, shaking the water off of her.

"Ah! Bessie!" Gayle screamed to avoid the wet drops spraying the front of her t-shirt, but it didn't help.

"Oh, you wuss! You get a little wet and you ..." He suddenly clammed up when he saw her erect nipples poking through the wet material; although it wasn't completely drenched, it was wet enough to clearly define the obvious arousal, and his mouth went dry. Fuck, they're sticking out like chapel hat pegs was the accompanying thought.

"What?" she asked curiously.

"You need to take off that shirt, Ms. Boyce. You'll catch your death of cold."

"Haha," she chuffed, ignoring his order thinking he wasn't serious. "Hey, stay still, please, Sir."

Gayle put her hand on his forearm, bent at the waist and removed her sneakers before taking off the other. When she saw Hamish's hand out, she handed them to him. "Thanks."

Taking a few steps down the beach, he stopped her with his strong hand on her shoulder. "Ms. Boyce, I told you to take off your t-shirt," he said sternly.

Gasping, she put her hands firmly on her hips and shook her head. "Sir, I will take a million whoopings with the paddle, but I will NOT walk around here naked!"

He laughed. "Didn't you notice the sign on the board that this is a clothing optional beach?"

"No I didn't, but I'm not surprised at all you brought me to a nudie beach."

"Soooooo," he egged her on. "Why don't you give it a go?"

"Nope. My ass be damned, but no."

"Ms. Boyce, do you know when the next time you'll be here in Scotland? You may never have this chance again."

"For your information," she said, picking up Bessie's stick and throwing it away from the water and starting to walk again, "I have been at a nudie beach before and did go into the water. So it's really not a big deal. My titties hurt like hell from being knocked about so roughly by the waves."

"Oh, come on. The water is nice and warm."

"Then why aren't other people in it?"

"Well, shyte." He deflated, knowing he'd been sussed, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

A few minutes later his words kept going through her head. He was right: she knew she'd never be back to Scotland, much less back to the beach.

"Sir, I'll make a deal with you." She slowed her steps and looked at him bravely then took a deep breath. "If we see someone else with no clothes on then I will. Is that fair?"

"No, it's not. But I'll accept your condition."

"Oh, that is so kind of you," she teased.

Bessie went chasing after a seagull that had landed a few feet away and had rapidly taken off again as the dog approached. Gayle yelled at the dog, but she kept on running. "Let her be. She'll never catch it."

For several minutes they walked in silence, seemingly both in their own thoughts. Hamish was thinking how peaceful and relaxing it was walking the dog after a hard week's work. He loved these quiet periods where he could unwind, and this time he appreciated the company.

Gayle was also remembering the times she'd walked the beach on their family vacations, the only time she really had to herself. Shortly after she'd broken up with her ex she wrote off men altogether, knowing there wasn't the perfect man out there for her. The other times she wracked her brain to find the meaning of life. She was never successful.

Bessie came running toward them with something in her mouth, but to Gayle it definitely wasn't a stick. It did move, but it wasn't a fish; it was too white. White and black ... "Oh, my god! She got a seagull!" Gayle screamed and ran toward her. "Give here, girl."

"I'll be damned! Good girl!" Hamish said proudly.

Gayle gave him a sharp look before Bessie realized she was outnumbered and dropped the bird. It flopped and squawked, jumping a few feet away. Bessie barked and went after it, but this time when Gayle hollered at her she obeyed. Hamish simply laughed.

"Sir! This is so not funny!" she chastised him as she bent over to get a closer look. "It doesn't look hurt."

"Don't get too close, lass. They carry tons of diseases and are vicious as hell," he warned.

"Oh," she said as she stood and watched the bird carefully. "And it's okay for your dog to kill one?"

"Watch it, Ms. Boyce. Labs are retrievers and it is their natural instinct to seek out game and birds ..."

"I know, I know. Sorry, Sir. Really. I'm more pissed at --"

She screamed in surprise when the seagull suddenly spread its wings and took off into the sky. "Oh, thank god." Looking down at Bessie, who was sitting on her hind legs and wagging her tail proudly, she told her, "You are getting no doggie treat when we get home."

Starting to walk again, Hamish bent down and patted Bessie's head. "No worries, pal. I'll give you one."

"You spoil her," Gayle said, though she was no longer angry at the dog. "But hey, I guess I would too. She does keep me company."

They had been walking for about thirty minutes, and Gayle had been telling Hamish about the times her family had gone to the beach. Again, she felt as ease talking to him, but what she noticed was that he hadn't said anything about his family. She remembered his mother had died in childbirth, and he'd just had his father and brother. Being naturally curious she wanted to ask him about his family but she didn't dare. She was having too much fun.

As she talked, she'd been looking at him the whole time, so when she saw movement from the corner of her eye she turned to see what it was. A man and woman, both completely naked, were walking toward them as if there wasn't a damned thing wrong. Well, it wasn't wrong, but the fact that his flaccid penis was not only half way down to his knees but was as thick as her wrist was a shock to her. She thanked all her gods that Hamish wasn't hung like this proverbial horse. The woman's breasts were clearly fake -- she had never seen titties so hard and full that they hardly moved with each step. She was surprised the poor woman wasn't walking bow-legged after being shagged with that monster cock.