Imago (Imago #1)

“Typically clay or clayey soil.”

And for the rest of the afternoon, we cross-referenced years of ecosystem data with photographs, soil reports, and rainfall data. Jack and I sat side by side and worked perfectly together. We almost had a conclusion down when there was a soft knock at the door.

Karen stood there smiling fondly at Jack. He cleared his throat and a light blush covered his cheeks. “Yes?” he asked.

“It’s five o’clock,” she said. “You two staying or calling it a day?”

“We’re almost done here,” I said.

Jack nodded. “We’ll close up. Thank you, Karen.” She waved us off, and she and Robert left, and the office was quiet. Jack tidied the piles of paper in front of us. “Wanna call it a day?”

“Yeah. I think we’ve got enough to know where to start tomorrow.”

“Dinner at my place?”

“I don’t want to keep relying on you to feed me,” I said. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to impress me with dates.”

“I promise there will be nothing fancy about dinner tonight.”

“But I’ll still be impressed? It is Date Number Five, I believe.”

Jack laughed warmly. “I think so, yes.”

We packed up our work and closed and locked the office. Instead of saying goodbye, I said, “See you at your place in half an hour.”

*

A quick shower later, I was dressed for a casual dinner, and I was fairly sure how this night would end. I packed a bag of toiletries and supplies and some clean clothes for tomorrow I could leave in the car if needed. I called into the store on my way and bought some locally mulled honey cider, some local cheeses, apples, and crackers, and at the checkout there was a stand of small posies. They weren’t anything fancy, probably lame by most standards, but I picked a yellow collection of daisies, and added them to my purchases.

Fifteen minutes later, I pulled up at the front of Jack’s place. Leaving my overnight bag and clothes in the car—in case it didn’t work out as planned—I grabbed my bag from the store and made my way up his porch steps.

He must have heard me pull up. “Door’s open,” he called out.

Rosemary met me with a wagging tail and toothy smile, and I found Jack in the kitchen. He wore old jeans and a faded T-shirt, bare feet, and he looked incredible. He was putting something into a basket.

“I bought these,” I said, putting my purchases on his kitchen counter. Then I held out the flowers. “These are for you. You’ve given me a selection of flowers, so it was only right that I return the gesture.”

“Thank you,” he said, planting a soft kiss on my lips. He took the flowers with a heart-stopping smile and rummaged through a cupboard until he found what he was looking for. An old jam jar became a vase. He added some water and placed them on his kitchen windowsill. He looked particularly pleased.

I took the items I’d bought from the bag and showed him the cider, and he read the label of the cheese. “So perfect.” He grabbed two glasses from a cabinet, a knife from the drawer, picked up the basket, and nodded toward the back door. “This way.”

I’d never seen his backyard, so I followed him keenly. His yard was huge; a green field of mowed grass was like a shoreline to a rolling paddock of woodlands. There were shrubs and flowers and a clothesline in the corner with some tea towels swaying in the breeze, but that wasn’t what captured my attention.

In the middle of his lawn, he’d laid a blanket, some cushions, and pillows. Jack put the basket he was carrying on the blanket and turned to me and waved his hand at the picnic. “Your dining table tonight.”

I was certain I was grinning like a crazy man. I put my hand to my heart, feeling the tempo through my shirt. “This actually couldn’t be more lovely.”

He sat his huge frame down on the blanket and spread his long legs out, leaning back on his elbow. He patted the space beside him. “I believe you fit here.”

I joined him on the blanket and took his face roughly in my hands. I planted a hard kiss on his lips. “I believe I do.”

He opened the basket and took out a container of small sandwich triangles. “Hungry?”

I chuckled. “I haven’t eaten sandwiches cut like this since I was at primary school.”

Jack grinned and held one perfect white triangle out to me. “Vegemite? Or peanut butter?”

“Either is fine.”

Rosemary came sniffing over and Jack roused on her. “She’ll steal the peanut butter ones if you’re not careful.”

I patted the blanket between us and called her over. “Lie down,” I said, and she did. I gave her a scratch under the ear, and Jack was staring at me, smiling.

He bit into his sandwich. “Are you here for me or my dog?”

“Both. And we shouldn’t exclude her. I don’t want her to think I’m the reason she’s not getting one hundred per cent of your attention.”

He ruffled the hair on the top of Rosemary’s head, then he leaned in and gave me a peanut buttery kiss. He didn’t say anything, just smiled serenely as he lay back down. He shoved a cushion under his head and ate another sandwich triangle. “So, how is this date stacking up so far?”

I looked around as evening settled over the countryside. The sun was behind the house, the sky was a palette of blues and oranges, the air was cooling down what had been a warm summer day. “It’s kind of perfect.”

He sighed happily. “Glad you like it.”

Just then a common white butterfly flitted along the breeze near us. “Ooh,” Jack said. “What kind of butterfly is that?”

“A Pieris rapae. Or a white cabbage butterfly.”

“Is there anything you don’t know about butterflies?”

I considered his question. “I think there are always things we don’t know. But about the recognised species already discovered, I know all there is to know. Though I’d hate to think we’ve learned all we can.”

He smiled up at the sky as though my answer truly pleased him, and he absentmindedly played with Rosemary’s fur.

I poured us two glasses of the honey cider, and Jack took one gratefully. Then I sliced the apple and cheese, opened the crackers, and fed him alternate mouthfuls. I liked taking care of him. He had, after all, provided four dates where he’d cooked for me, so it was the least I could do.

When we’d eaten enough of our picnic and the bottle of cider was almost gone, we discussed things such as biodiversity right down to music and movies. The sky was almost darkened through by then, but the backlight of the house cast enough light so we could still see.

Rosemary had wandered off after all the cheese was gone, and I lay down with my head in the crook of Jack’s arm. We watched the sky become night, and the cider had given me a pleasant buzz.

Jack seemed content to just lay there, but I wanted more. I had come here with the intention of letting him take me to bed, but he seemed equally content to just lay under the stars with me in his arms. And it was perfect, but the urge, the desire in my blood wouldn’t let me not try…