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Dean caught up with me on his way to the station in the evening. I had my feet propped up on another chair and was flicking through my Instagram page on my phone, while listening out for him. He looked tired when he climbed out of his car, but he smiled when he saw me sitting in the courtyard.
The café had been closed for an hour, and I was the only one around. I had no qualms about giving him a big hug and a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Hey.” He sounded pleased. “Your hair is amazing. It really suits you, little sandy girl.”
“Thank you.” I tried not to preen under his admiring gaze. “I was nervous that it might be a disaster.”
He cocked his head to one side. “Nope. Not a disaster. Not even close. You look fucking gorgeous.”
My cheeks burned, and I wanted to whoop with delight. I settled for a huge smile and another hug. “Thank you. Again. Are you planning to call in for coffee in the morning?”
“You bet. I’ll see you then.” It was his turn to drop a kiss on my cheek, and I took the opportunity to breathe in his scent. Whatever he showered in, it smelled like heaven wrapped up in delicious manly goodness.
I had plenty to keep me busy while Dean was working. My sand-art images needed work before I sent them to the printer. I cropped and tinted and resized until my eyes ached from staring at the screen on my laptop. It didn’t distract me from thinking about Dean.
Lou’s warning spun endlessly in my mind. The last thing I wanted to do was ask Dean about his so-called reputation. It could make his awkward relationship with his workmates a hundred times more difficult, and what good would that do? If the right opportunity arose, I’d take it, but it wasn’t a conversation I could initiate.
I fell into an uneasy sleep and awoke with a headache and a crick in my neck from hunching over my laptop last night. I’d see if there was a yoga class at the gym this afternoon. I needed to keep up with it.
Dean would be calling in for coffee on his way home after his night shift. I made sure to wear a pretty shirt, and add a hint of lip gloss before I went downstairs to start work. I gazed at my new reflection in the bedroom mirror. Somehow, in the space of a couple of weeks, my day revolved around Dean. When he was working. When he could be with me.
I might look different, but I was still the same needy Steph underneath.
Every time someone entered the café, I looked up, expecting it to be Dean, a smile hovering on my lips. By seven o’clock, I figured he’d either changed his mind, or I’d missed him.
He arrived half an hour later and looked exhausted. “Hey,” he said, by way of greeting. “How are you today?”
“I’m good. Thanks.”
Unlike him. He looked ready to drop where he stood.
“Go sit in the courtyard, and I’ll bring your flat white out to you.”
“Thanks.” He flashed me a grateful smile, and then ambled to the outdoor seats.
With Lou in place to cover the Gaggia for a few minutes, I took Dean his coffee and greeted him properly with a hug. “You okay?” I asked.
“It was a rough night. There was a house fire in Levin, and we got called as backup. We got everybody out, but it was touch and go.” He gazed into the distance. “I’ll be fine after some sleep.”
“Maybe you should be drinking decaf.”
“Sorry. Did you say something?”
My joke had fallen on deaf ears, and I waved it away. “I was being silly. Sleep well. I’m looking forward to Homegrown, so you know. Thank you for the ticket. It’s so sweet of you.”
He pulled a mock-worried face. “Don’t call me sweet. Not sure my hard-ass rep will recover from that.”
There was my opening to ask him, but the moment skidded away. A minute later, Dean was climbing back into his car and driving away.
I did everything I’d normally do during the day. Worked in the café. Attended a yoga class run by Jasper. Did my sand art and took some glorious landscape photos of the beach, lit up by shafts of sunlight filtering through low cloud. Rain was on the way, and the skies were a constantly shifting palette of blues and greys.
It was Homegrown tomorrow. Lou offered to look after King for the day, and take him home with her in case I was home late or didn’t come home at all. I’d swapped my hours to take the weekend off, and if Dean asked me to stay at his place, there was a very good chance I’d say yes.
Life was too short for stressing about what might be. So he might go back to Belle when he returned to Auckland. Our fling might have run its course by then, anyway.
I sent him a text.
What time do you start work tonight? Can I see you for 5 mins before?
He called me right back. “Hey. I’m already at the station. I came in early. What’s up?”
“Oh.” I worked to keep the disappointment out of my voice. “It’s not important. I’m looking forward to Homegrown, is all.” I braced myself to take the next step into whatever it was we had between us. “I’m off Sunday, too, and I wondered... If you’d like, I could stay with you on Saturday night, after the event.” The words came out in a rush.
“Stay with me?” His voice deepened. “As in sleep with me?”
Damn, but I loved the gravelly sound of his voice. “Yes, please.”
He chuckled, and I felt it in my bones. “I’m looking forward to it, little sandy girl. If I wasn’t on my way to a meeting, I’d tell you some of the things I plan to do with you. You’ll have to make do with your imagination tonight. Stay bad. I’ll pick you up at noon tomorrow.”
*
I awoke on Saturday morning to the sound of rain beating against the window. Great. We had weeks of perfect weather, and then, on the day when I’d be mostly outside at a music festival, it had to rain? I’d be with Dean all day and night, though, and that made up for it. Mostly.
The little garden at the back of the café was sodden. We wouldn’t get many customers wanting to be out here today. King sat under the overhang and gazed at the puddles in the gravel, before giving me a look that told me he wasn’t impressed with the weather either. I rushed through all my tasks, and then dispensed coffees and pastries and small talk for the rest of the morning. My earlier doubts about going to Homegrown had been nudged aside and overtaken by my longing to spend the time with Dean. Listening to great music at the same time would be a bonus.
He arrived early and grinned when he saw me. We were both wearing Villainy tour shirts.
I laughed. “Epic.” I pointed from my shirt to his.
“Epic,” he agreed. “Hey, I forgot to ask about King. Will he be okay tonight?”
“Lou offered to dog-sit for me.”
He nodded. “That works. Do you have an overnight bag to bring with you?”
I did. There wasn’t much to take, mainly toiletries and my meds, along with my camera, phone charger, and clean panties and T-shirt to wear in the morning.
Dean slung it over his shoulder, and then took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Let’s go.” He hadn’t removed his shades yet, and I wondered what colour his eye looked today. I found out a few minutes later, when he took them off in the car. The swelling had subsided, but the area looked bruised and tender. I wanted to kiss it better, but maybe I’d save that for later.
I was puzzled when Dean pulled onto the car park for the Museum Hotel, and even more so when he gave his keys to the valet to arrange parking.
“This isn’t a public car park,” I said. “We’re not staying at the hotel.”
“Change of plan,” Dean said with a smirk. “I booked a room for tonight, so we totally can park here.”
I gaped at him. Did he say what I thought he did? “But... it’s expensive. Like, a couple of hundred bucks a night.”
He shrugged. “It means we don’t have to drive back tonight, when we’re both tired. And besides, I wanted to do something nice for you. Tim told me this was a good place to go.”
My heart melted. “I’ve never stayed here before and always wondered what it’s like. Thank you.” This time I did kiss him, winding my arms around his neck and basking in the squeeze he gave me back.
“We’ll drop off our gear and check out the room, and then go hit up the festival.” He signed the room chit that the valet offered, and then picked up our bags. “Let’s go, sandy girl.”