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There was another round of lovemaking in the early hours. Dean was as sweet and affectionate as ever. He played my body like a vintage guitar, his talented fingers driving me to a sweet state of ecstasy. He may have been drinking, but it didn’t affect his ability to make me moan or to pull orgasms out of me. Much later, I lay curled up with him, sated and exhausted.
For once, the sneering voice inside my head was silenced. Instead, a low-level buzz of happiness percolated through me.
I remembered to set the alarm on my phone, and then spent half an hour hitting snooze when it went off. I had to get to work, but I had to go home first. Five in the morning sucked big time.
I rubbed my eyes and gazed at Dean, sprawled on his belly in the bed. His arms were curled around the pillow, and his face was relaxed in sleep. How I longed to stay there, to snuggle back with him and ignore the summoning from my phone...
I couldn’t do it. My job was too important to me.
I untangled myself with care, but I needn’t have worried. Dean was dead to the world. Was he going to work today? I’d no idea. I wasn’t sure what shift he was on.
After I freshened up in the bathroom and dressed, I sat on the edge of the bed and stroked his hair. “Hey,” I said. “It’s morning. Wake up.”
He grunted, but that was all.
I tried again. “Are you working today? I have to go.”
His eyes flickered open, and he looked up at me with a bleary gaze. “Got a few days off.” He yawned, and then stretched out an arm to pull me closer. “Gimme a kiss.”
“You have stinky breath.” I dropped a kiss on the tip of his nose. “I’ll come see you after I finish for the day. I love you.”
“Mmm huh.” He was already falling back into sleep.
After all that vodka last night, he’d be waking with a killer headache, so I fetched him a glass of water and took one last look at him. We were in love. He was officially my boyfriend. Okay, so we had some logistical issues to work through, but he’d be here for a few months yet, and that’d give us time to plan our future together.
I set off home, feeling on top of the world.
There was enough time to give King a short walk and take the quickest shower ever, and then I gulped down my meds and hurried downstairs. It’d rained some more during the night, and the courtyard plants didn’t need watering. The sweet peas I picked for the tables were fragrant, and I arranged the jam jars, pausing to sniff the blooms. I’d seen some sweet-pea scented candles on sale somewhere recently. Perhaps I’d get some for my apartment.
Lost in thought, I didn’t see Lou approaching until she stopped beside me. “Hey,” I said. “How are you today?”
She gazed at me, and I took note of the shadows beneath her eyes. “Tired. I went into Wellington and sat with Susannah at the hospital,” she said.
Shit. How self-obsessed was I that I forgot what happened yesterday? “How is she? And how’s Aaron? And Cory?”
Lou sank into one of the nearby seats. “Aaron’s going to be okay. Concussion, and his left leg is broken in two places. They had to pin it together.” She grimaced. “I’m squeamish about stuff like that. Cory’s not so good. Spinal injuries, is all I know. Mona’s in pieces.”
Much as I disliked Mona and hated the way Cory was with Dean, I felt sorry for them. “That’s awful.”
“Yeah. And I should have asked—is Dean okay?”
“He’s bruised, but that’s all. He was lucky. Did Susannah tell you what happened?”
Lou nodded. “It sounds horrific. Mona has a good support network, though. The other wives and girlfriends are rallying around her. Susannah says they’re like a second family; they’re so close. Are you part of that group with Dean?”
“No.” I thought quickly. Lou was friends with some of the wives. I couldn’t tell her Dean thought the other guys were assholes. “He’s quite new here. And we’re only dating. Y’know how it is.”
“I’m glad he’s okay.” Lou gave me a hug. “I think the protocol is that he’ll get a few days off, while Tim works out the reassignments. You might get to spend some more time with him. Kiss him better and all that.” She winked, but it was half-hearted. She looked exhausted.
“That’d be good. Thanks for updating me. How come you know so much about them? The firefighters?”
“I went to school with Susannah and Cory, and I dated a fireman for a while. Jimbo. Not sure if you’ve met him yet? He’s on red watch.” Lou yawned behind her hand. “Come on. We’d better get back to work.”
I followed her indoors, my mind swirling over everything she just told me. Dean had to switch on his phone at some point, and then he’d hear about Cory and Aaron. I’d go see him as soon as I finished work.
*
It was Wednesday, and my gallery opening was only three nights away. It felt as though I still had a million tiny details to coordinate, and I wavered between being nervous and terrified.
If Dean was going to be free for a few days, should I ask him to help? It might be a good distraction for him, too.
He’d text me when he got up. Or call in for coffee. If I didn’t hear from him by lunchtime, I’d phone, to see how his hangover was and to say hi. The accident yesterday was terrible on every level, except one. It made Dean admit what I meant to him.
The only phone calls I took were about the exhibition. My fliers and prints were being couriered to the gallery today, and Elizabeth, the gallery owner, wanted to catch up on the details. Although we’d blocked out where each print would be situated, the final position wouldn’t be confirmed until they could be hung.
Elizabeth asked if I was free that evening. “Tonight would be best for me,” she said. “I’m out tomorrow, and we need Friday for last-minute tweaks.”
“No problem. I’ll be there at six.” I’d ask Dean if he wanted to join me. This gave me a great excuse to call him—not that I needed one. I checked the time. Almost two o’clock. He should be up by now.
I dialled his number and listened to it ring before it dropped to voicemail.
“Hi. This is Dean. Leave a message.”
Okay. There were a dozen reasons why he couldn’t take my call at this moment. “Hey. It’s me. I’ll... um... try again later.” I blew a kiss down the line, and then disconnected.
Not that I was watching the clock, but when he didn’t return my call by three, I tried again. It went to voicemail. He must still have his phone switched off. No worries. I’d be finished here by half past four, and I could walk around to see him.
I took King with me, and we walked the short distance to Dean’s new place. Unease trickled down my spine when I saw a gap where his SUV should be parked. His house didn’t have a garage or anywhere at the side to leave his car. Could it have been stolen?
Despite my knocking on the front door and ringing the bell, there was no answer. He wasn’t home. Wherever he went, either his phone was still off, or he didn’t want to call me back.