Note: Thanks to anyone who has made it this far.
Cameron came with a strangled 'oh fuck', and collapsed onto Andy, panting heavily. She stroked his back and kissed his shoulder. She loved these moments, both of them satisfied, and him resting his head next to hers on the pillow. There wasn't a time before now that she'd felt happier and more at peace with a man.
He rolled off her and onto his back, lying so close to her that their shoulders were touching. He had good, strong shoulders and arms -- they were definitely his best asset. He glanced over at her and murmured 'I love you', his voice thick with drowsiness.
Andy cupped his face in one hand, leant over and kissed him once more. 'I love you too, my beautiful man.'
It was a hot summer day on the precipice of Christmas. The farm was busier than ever. The school holidays bought hordes of visitors and there was enough rain, of the right type and quantity, to keep everything growing. The year was becoming increasingly profitable, but it came at a personal cost to the Atkinson's.
It wasn't long until they both dozed off. It was rare for Cameron to spend a Saturday afternoon this way, but when Andy had arrived at lunch, he'd told her was done for the day. He didn't care what went wrong, needed fixing, he was going to spend some time with her.
Andy woke a couple of hours later when Cameron grunted and rolled over. He was still asleep, but she felt ready to get up. She hesitated in the doorway and gazed at him. She'd never seen him sleep before; he always woke up before her. He slept on his back, one arm flung behind his head, cock to one side. He was a 'show-er', not a 'grower', and had a decent thatch of wild, dark, pubic hair.
She thought of Cleo, which was odd, because the woman seemed to have slipped out of their lives. Andy had long since blocked the trouble-making bitch, and she hadn't made an appearance at the farm since she was fired.
Was Cameron really what Cleo wanted? To Andy he was the hottest thing on legs, but she knew that was just because she loved him. Realistically, he was just a very ordinary looking man whose balls were overdue for a shave. He worked long hours, drank too much, and struggled to last longer than three minutes once he was in her.
Cameron was the sort of man who was supposed to jack off to women like Cleo, not be pursued by them.
She shut the door to let him sleep undisturbed. The weather had been unseasonably mild over the past few days and it was getting cool, but her jumper was in her car, which was parked on the road. Some idiots visiting the farm had parked their cars on the main driveway, blocking her access to Cam's house. She didn't much mind; she'd enjoyed stretching her legs after a long drive. And it had been good to have an excuse to visit the café and confirm that Cleo hadn't magically reappeared.
Andy was in two minds about tidying up Cam's house. She didn't want him to get the idea she was a maid; she'd been through that nonsense in her previous marriages, but he was working a lot and he tried so hard to please her. He'd even bought wine glasses.
She swept and wiped and washed up the couple of dishes that were in the sink. She thought about what they might have for dinner, and peeked in his cupboards and fridge, but it was a dismal sight. He had booze, Coke, ice, frozen bread, frozen chips, frozen nuggets, frozen peas...nothing that would constitute a proper adult meal.
As she was staring into his cupboard, pondering what to do about food, Cameron's bedroom door opened and he stumbled out, still naked and bleary eyed. He came up behind her and hugged her, resting his chin on the top of her head.
'You got dressed,' he remarked, disappointed.
'I wasn't about to sweep naked.'
'You don't need to clean my house, Andy.' He nuzzled her neck. 'It's nice of you, but don't worry about it in future.'
She leant against him. He felt really good. Warm, strong, still a bit sleepy.
Cameron glanced in the cupboard. 'We could have skittles and cheese and onion chips,' he suggested jokingly. 'Or you could let me take you out to dinner. The local pub's not too bad and we wouldn't need to get dressed up.'
She reached behind her and rubbed his hip. There was nothing poking into her arse. He was touching her very intimately, but he didn't seem like he wanted to drag her to the bedroom for round two. 'That sounds great.'
They stood in front of the cupboard. Andy wanted to move, to start getting ready, but Cameron didn't seem to want to let go. She turned around so that she was at least facing him. He kissed her on the lips, his breath stale and his lips cracked. She loved him so much it hurt.
'What are you going to do if you change jobs?' he asked, in a tone that she could tell he was trying to sound casual. 'What do you reckon would happen to you and me... would you still want to see me?'
'Of course.'
He gave her a crooked grin and kissed her. 'That's good.'
Her overnight case was still in her car, and they decided to stretch their legs and walk up to her car to retrieve it.
As this was a strictly personal visit, Andy had taken her personal car, not her work one. It was a dark grey Lancer, one of the last sold in Australia before they were discontinued. It wasn't anywhere near new and the backseat smelt faintly of her Mastiff -- who made regular trips to the vet for injections into it's arthritic joints -- but it was straight and clean. She wasn't in the habit of casually mounting kerbs or hitting bollards in car parks.
The Lancer was parked on the side of the road, the passenger side facing the road and the driver side to the kerb. Cameron wasn't one of those men who felt the need to be in the driver's seat, and Andy was well past tolerating that nonsense anyway, so Cameron went around to the passenger side.
'What happened to your car?' he asked.
Andy paused. 'What do you mean what happened to my car?'
'It's been keyed.'
It had been keyed good and proper. Andy looked at the damaged panels as if she might cry. She didn't make a huge amount of money, and with Christmas so close, she wasn't really in the situation where paying several thousand dollars in insurance excesses made her jump up and down with excitement.
'Let's go and see Mum,' Cameron suggested. 'She might have caught something on camera.' He gave her a comforting hug. 'I'll sort this out for you Andy. Don't stress.'
~~~~~
Susan was mortified. She'd expressly told Andy to leave her car on the side of the road, assuring her it would be safe. And it wasn't, was it? Susan wanted to kick herself. She should have found whoever was blocking the driveway and had them move.
Brad wasn't impressed that his wife hadn't addressed the blocked driveway when she'd first been warned of it. The café visitors annoyed the shit out of him. Sure, most of them were fine, but there was a sizeable minority that were forever doing stupid things, going places they shouldn't, stealing things, and generally being rude and entitled.
'Take my ute,' Brad told Andy. 'We can do a swap until your car is fixed. We'll have it sorted as soon as possible. This is on us, not you.'
'Oh no, I'd feel bad,' Andy argued. 'I have insurance. You need your ute, and Christmas is the week after next, so it will take weeks if you get it repaired privately. Besides, I can only drive auto.'
'My ute is an auto,' Brad replied. 'We've had too many backpackers who can't drive shift come through, so other than Cam's car, they're all automatic. Plus, we have a spare farm ute. It's not roadworthy but I can use that on the farm if I need to.' He paused, met her eye. 'I'm not taking 'no' for an answer here; you came here as a guest, you were told to park on the road, and your car is now damaged. I can write off the expense under the farm expenses. It'll inevitably cost me less than your insurance excess and premium increases would cost you.'
'That sounds great,' Cameron agreed, before Andy had an opportunity to speak.
Adrianna hesitated. Pride was one hell of a thing to try and overcome.
'Thank-you,' she said. 'That would be greatly appreciated.'
Susan didn't say a word. All she could think was Cleo. The woman had dropped by the café that day 'for a visit'. Surely she hadn't...? She'd been so sweet and kind. It was like a catch up with an old friend. No, it couldn't have been Cleo. Cleo would never be so crass. Besides, would Cleo even know what car Andy drove? And even if she did, she would have had no way of knowing that Andy would be at the farm that day, and that her car would be parked out of the range of the security cameras.
~~~~
It had been four days since Cameron had seen Andy. It was hot and busy, and Christmas was five days away. Beyond Christmas, there would remain an influx of visitors and a continuation of hot weather. He dreamt of going away somewhere exotic with Andy, of swimming in a cool pool with her and drinking ice cold beer and making love to her all afternoon.
Over the years Cameron had all but taken over the day to day running of the farm. There were still a few last items that Brad controlled or took care of, and for which Cam was glad he wasn't responsible. Brad organised all machine servicing, some of the more annoying certifications they were required to have, and lastly, Matthew.
Matthew was a sales rep in his late forties. He was an absolute piece of shit in Cam's eyes, but the pricing he gave was incredible and the freight was cheap. The majority of growers in the area used Matthew, even though half of them hated his guts. He gossiped a lot, and while everyone wanted to know what their neighbours were up to, none wanted their neighbours knowing what they were doing. He was also a sleaze and had been inappropriate to countless women over the years. Everyone knew, but Matt was seemingly untouchable; his sales figures were through the roof.
Cam despised how reliant they were on him, and he loathed Matt himself. He mostly avoided him but he couldn't that day -- his father had taken Andy's Lancer out to a couple of repairers to get quotes and book it in to be fixed.
Matt was equally unimpressed to be dealing with Cameron. He viewed the younger Atkinson as rude and arrogant, and I know this, because Matt doesn't hold back his opinion on people.
Cameron didn't consider himself rude; he just wasn't a fan of men who got away with sticking their hands up the skirts of young women or groping their boobs or taking advantage of them when they were drunk.
After the limited niceties were exchanged, Cameron got straight to the point, complaining about the product that had blocked up not only his spray tank, but his neighbour's.
'Your old man said your agitator was playing up,' Matt argued.
'That's what I initially put it down to, but it's not that, it's the product. Billy, down the road, said he'd had the same problem. Same batch. It cost both of us a lot of time.'
They bickered back and forth, but Cameron wasn't inclined to back down. Neither was Matt. The exchange was going nowhere.
Sarah, the lesbian farmhand, who also worked in the café now and was absolutely brilliant, was walking past on the way to refuel the quad when she heard the two men. She was in her late twenties but had been working on farms for over a decade and she had a good feel for when men were butting heads in a way that wasn't going to lead to a good outcome.
'Howdy fellas,' she greeted. 'Would we be talking about a particular insecticide that had us scraping jelly out of a tank?'
