| |
My phone blared its usual wake-up alarm, and I groped blindly to switch it off, my eyes closed. Five thirty was a brutal time to get up, but I had to start work soon. There had to become a point at which it felt normal to crawl out of bed at stupid-o-clock, but I wasn’t there yet.
Was Dean still here? The bed felt empty. I rolled over and opened my eyes.
I was alone.
There were no noises in the apartment and nothing to suggest he was in the bathroom or the kitchen. No handwritten note on the pillow.
Disappointment welled. One night clearly didn’t include my waking in his arms.
If I didn’t sit up, I’d go back to sleep, so I propped the pillows behind me and leaned against them. How much sleep did I get? Three hours, maybe? I couldn’t help smiling. It was such an unexpected end to the day. So good. I bent my knees and rested my chin on them. I’d ache in all the best places today. I wouldn’t forget our night together anytime soon.
Perhaps he left a note in the kitchen? I had sticky notes everywhere, but none I hadn’t written. After I fussed over King and gave him breakfast, I accepted the truth. Dean had snuck out as though he’d never been here.
Did I want more? From him?
I always wanted more. I was the girl who wore her heart so prominently on her sleeve, it could be waving a giant flag. Love me. At least with Dean, the rules were clear at the beginning. One night. No matter how much I might want a replay—a whole series of replays—they weren’t going to happen, and for the first time in my life, I wasn’t going to mope.
I took my meds, the anti-depressant with its vivid stripes, the augmentation drug with the long and complicated name, and then the anti-nausea pill, to stop me from throwing up the first two. I imagined them rattling around inside my empty stomach. Breakfast was next on my to-do list. My short-term goal was to get to the point where I only needed the anti-depressant. And then, eventually, to be able to leave that behind too.
In the meantime, I needed to shower and dress and get my ass downstairs.
I rushed through my morning routine at the café, watering the plants, and putting out fresh cutlery and water in the courtyard. Dean and I had dinner here. I smiled. Dancing here with him was silly and fun. He made me feel good. I shook my head, to shift the memory.
Though I started work at an ungodly time, Jacques and Marty had been hard at it for a couple of hours, getting loaves into the ovens and preparing sandwiches and pastries. A batch of cheese scones just came out, and the smell had my mouth watering. I’d grab one for my breakfast as soon as the rush was over.
Lou shouted at me that someone was standing on the doorstep, waiting for the café to open. I saw the outline of a tall guy through the frosted glass, and I hastened to unlock and draw back the bolts.
“Good morning,” I chirped, but the words died in my throat. It was Dean. Recently showered, judging by the damp hair and the citrusy fragrance that surrounded him, and wearing fresh jeans and a long-sleeved Henley shirt. He looked and smelled every bit as delicious as the scones. Was this going to be awkward?
“Hey,” he said. “Wasn’t sure if you’d be up yet.”
How did I respond, when Lou stood a few feet away and the two bakers were on the other side of the counter? “We open at six every morning. Isn’t this early for you?”
He smirked. “I had a busy night. I need a caffeine hit.”
“Hi, Dean,” called Lou, from behind the coffee machine. “Your usual?”
Irritation flashed though me. How did Lou know his usual order? I’d made his coffee as often as she had.
Lou liked him. She was into men in uniform. Besides, I had no right to start feeling possessive.
All these thoughts zipped through me in the time it took to fasten the door in the open position and stand aside, for Dean to come into the café. He brushed against me in a move that was entirely unnecessary, and set my body alight.
That might also have something to do with the smouldering look he gave me.
“Yes, please,” he said to Lou as he strutted up to the counter, his debit card in hand. “And what do you have that’s good for breakfast?”
I forced myself to stay cool. Lou was fixing the coffees at the moment, while my job was to make sure the courtyard area was ready for use. Not ogling the customer standing at the till.
I’d almost finished my task list and was distributing jam jars of fresh-picked flowers to each table, when Dean slid into a seat near me.
“Hey,” he said in a low voice. “What time do I pick you up today?”
My heart leapt. I’d avoided thinking about our road trip, in case he changed his mind. I turned to look at him, a smile on my face. “I finish at two. Gimme ten minutes to freshen up?”
“No worries.” His gaze ate me up.
It was a good job my hands were busy with flowers, otherwise they’d have gravitated toward him and probably be stroking his thigh or running through his hair by now.
What was it about this guy? He fired me on all cylinders with a few words and one heated look. Memories of the night before flooded through me, and my cheeks burned. Part of me wanted to ask why he snuck out while I was sleeping, but at the same time, I didn’t want to disturb the simmering mood of anticipation. I’d ask him later. Maybe.
Either way, I had work to do. I placed the last of the jam jars on tables, adjusted the sweet peas and lavender stems in the water, and then looked back at Dean. He watched me over his takeout cup of coffee, his eyes warm.
I longed to sit down with him, but I didn’t get paid to hang out with customers. “See you later,” I said and smiled.
“Later, sandy girl.”
*
Hours later, I stood on the pavement outside the back entrance to the courtyard, away from staff and customers’ eyes. I didn’t tell anyone I was seeing Dean this afternoon, partly because it was nobody’s business but mine, but also to spare my blushes when Dean moved on and I was left behind. The beachside village was close knit, and I’d prefer to avoid gossip about my love life.
Dean’s SUV turned the corner and slowed to a halt in front of me. King, at my side, looked up at the sound and scrambled to his feet, tail wagging.
“Hey,” said Dean. He climbed out and came around to my side, to help King into the back of his car, before holding the passenger door open for me. It was another display of old-fashioned good manners, and I appreciated the gesture.
Back behind the wheel, he turned to face me, his eyes obscured by shades. “Any suggestions where to go?”
I’d given it some thought, while I dispensed coffees and made small talk with customers. “It’s a beautiful day, so how d’you feel about enjoying the sunshine?”
“Sure. Anywhere in particular?”
“The Paekakariki hill road has a car park at the top and the most amazing views of the coastline. It’s about thirty minutes’ drive from here. And then maybe we could go to the park. There are loads of places to walk King.”
“Give me directions, and we’ll go.” He tapped his fingers against the dashboard but didn’t start the car.
I looked more closely at him. His jaw was tight, his words were clipped, and he radiated hostility. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say he didn’t want to be here with me.
I swallowed the lump that appeared in my throat. “Hey. We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. It’s no biggie.”
Dean looked away and cursed under his breath, moving his hands to grip the wheel tight.
Fuck. I was right. Time to make a rapid exit before this became embarrassing. “Look,” I began, but he swung back to me and slid the Oakleys from his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m dealing with some shit at the moment, and I’m not in the best of moods.”
I held up my hands, to forestall him. “Really, I—”
“Don’t go.” His voice was urgent, and I clamped my mouth shut. “I want to go out this afternoon and get away from everything. Will you help me do that?”