*You should see the view from my balcony. Even you’d be impressed, Miss B.
Belle smiled at Dante’s text message. She wasn’t a huge fan of cities at the best of times, something he knew very well.
It must be pretty incredible for you to be so sure about that.
A photo popped up of an expansive view of the lit-up Sydney Harbour Bridge with the water beneath, looking close enough to touch.
Impressive.
Told you so. ;)
“Smart ass.”
Why don’t you come down tomorrow? You know, stay here and do the markets or something while I’m at the course. Then on Friday we could be complete dags and bum around on some of those ferry tours.
Belle’s breath caught. Her heart raced and a massive smile erupted. He wanted her to come down. To spend the night. She hadn’t expected an offer like that.
If you don’t want to drive, you could bus it to Bialga and either fly or catch the train down, then come back with me?
Sounds fantastic. Let me confirm with Dad. Talk soon.
She tried to contain the happy squeak that wanted to escape. She looked around the bar area of the Emerald Barrel. Nope. No one had noticed anything out of place. She tucked her phone into her back pocket and flicked her shirt down over the top.
Wednesday night crowds were never particularly boisterous. They were busy enough that all tables in the restaurant and outside were full, but most were content to eat their meals and chat amongst themselves. Soft classical music overlaid the room’s gentle buzz of conversation.
She checked each table, smiling and making small talk. Satisfied everything was as it should be, she made a beeline toward the kitchen, where she’d seen her father disappear only moments ago.
Jack stood emptying the huge commercial dishwasher and looked over as she came through the door. Her father pointed at something on the menu and Adele nodded.
“Hey, Dad?”
Her father looked up.
“Would it be possible to get Alex and Summer to come in for a few extra days? Like, tomorrow and Friday? Possibly even Saturday?”
Her father frowned. “Why? Are you ill?”
Belle shook her head. She didn’t often ask for the extra help of the juniors. She usually tried to do most of it herself. “I thought maybe I’d take a run down to Sydney. Dante wants to show me around the ferry tours down there.”
Her dad blinked. Jack choked on a laugh.
“I’m sure that’s all he wants to show you.”
Belle gasped. Did her brother know what had happened between them? How? Had he said something to their father? Jack’s sarcastic words widened her father’s eyes so much Belle worried they’d pop from his head.
“Now, Jack …” Callum warned.
“Thanks … ex-brother.”
Jack shrugged and held up his hands. His wide grin betrayed his amusement. “Just keeping it real.”
Belle frowned. Jack looked far too happy with himself. He definitely knew something was up. Or, at the least, suspected.
“I’m sure we can cope without you for a few days, Belle. Adelaide is here with your mum through the days now, and I’m sure we can do a workaround for Saturday. Isn’t there a special thing on at that big old art gallery down there?”
Belle dragged her attention back to her father, trying in vain to stop her cheeks from heating. “Um, yeah. The museum. They have pieces on loan from Egypt.”
The days with Adelaide were going fantastically. She had even managed to get her mother out and about, something Belle herself had struggled with. Her mother would dig in her heels and flatly refuse. So far, Adelaide had been a huge blessing. The frustration and worry had lifted so much with her presence. Belle loved her mother dearly, but being a primary carer had taken a toll, mentally and emotionally. This last couple of weeks with the pressure relieved had their relationship improving, too.
Her dad nodded and patted her shoulder. “You go have some fun. We’ll be fine here. How will you get there?”
Belle rubbed her hands on the seat of her pants. “I thought I might take the train from Bialga. It’s faster than driving, and I won’t have to worry about parking. It leaves at six AM.”
She looked expectantly at her brother.
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you disown me, then want me to drive you to the train station at Oh-God o’clock? That’s rich.”
She sent him the cheesiest grin she could muster. “Pleeease?”
Jack harrumphed. “Fine. You owe me, though.”
A ding from the front counter intruded. Belle glanced out the kitchen doors. “Awesome. I’ll go finish up out front, and if you’re in bed before I get out of here, I’ll see you in the morning.”
Belle pushed through the doors and greeted the customer with a massive grin.
She was going to spend the night with Dante. Again.
She couldn’t help the shivers that ran down her spine. She couldn’t wait to see him. A part of her still worried that they might screw things up, and she knew he wasn’t up for anything long-term, not if what she’d overheard back then still held sway. But she wanted him enough to try, and she certainly wasn’t going to say no.
Because who in their right mind would say no to more nights with a buff, hot-as-hell Mediterranean god?
*
Good news. I’m coming down on the morning train from Bialga. I’ll grab a cab to the hotel if you could leave me a key at the front desk? I’ll get in just after lunchtime.
Dante’s breath deserted him in a great rush. He rubbed at his goosebump-peppered skin. He’d fully expected her to say no, or, at the least, not be able to get the time off. It wasn’t a short trip.
That’s great, B. The course finishes at 3. The college is a good half hour from the hotel, way more in peak traffic. What if we work on me getting back here by 5?
He leaned back into the balcony chair and propped his feet on the low coffee table and crossed his ankles. He rolled his glass of wine across his lips.
He glanced down at the thumbs-up emoji that brightened the screen of his phone.
I’ll message you when I get to Sydney.
A shiver rippled from his head to his toes. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about their night together, didn’t think he ever would if he was totally honest about it. And now he’d have her all to himself for two whole days.
She said yes.
He shook his head. That particular bit of information seemed to be having a hard time settling into his brain.
Belle Davis, alone in his hotel room, no one to bother them for hundreds of kilometres. No one to gossip if they saw them enter the room together. Not that he cared one way or the other what the nosy busybodies of Kurrajong Crossing ever waffled on about, but Belle did. She’d always kept her nose clean and stayed out of trouble; well, as much as a best friend of his could stay out of trouble.
He knew she’d be worried they’d get caught sneaking around if they met at Mallory-Jayne’s again, simply because they weren’t known as a couple. It would be too easy for someone to see them.
But here in a huge city? No chance.
If they were seen at home, the entire town would expect an announcement that they were together together. Particularly his father. His father was old-fashioned when it came to relationships and sex.
He cared about Belle and knew she cared for him. A heck of a lot. But after their awkward almost-did in the back seat of his car so long ago, they’d agreed to not go there.
That had obviously changed, but she hadn’t said a word after that mind-blowing night—not that they’d had much chance to talk. He’d be quite happy to continue along the way they seemed to be headed, and maybe even go public with it to see where it led, but unless she said otherwise, casual it was.
Yes, she’d scratched an itch. She’d even said herself that she wanted to lose her virginity, but she’d chosen him. He had to believe it meant more than a simple one-night stand.
Did he take that, and the fact that she was coming down to spend time with him at face value, that it was simply what they’d agreed to? Basically a booty call? Or should he press and try to worm out of her if she was open to more?
“Who are you trying to kid, Casellati?”
A beeping horn somewhere far over to his right answered him. He swirled the wine in his glass and sighed.
Belle had been under his skin for longer than he could remember. The thought of her being with someone else was enough to make him feel ill. And angry as hell.
Jealous.
He cared about her a lot. Loved her as a friend.
Loved her, period?
He tossed the idea around and gnawed on it, this way and that. The more he tried to disprove it to himself, the more the truth screamed at him.
“No …” His whispered word went unnoticed in Sydney’s busy Rocks. Faint music wound up from somewhere below, with the scent of freshly made pizza wafting on the warm evening air.
I love her.
He swore, closed his eyes, and shook his head. Why did he go and do something stupid like that?
Should he confront her, ask where she saw things headed, or did he leave it and just wait and see?
Did he want to wait?
Part of him yelled a firm no. The saner, more rational part cautioned to bide his time. They had a great basis for a relationship; they’d been friends forever. That wouldn’t change.
“No,” he said, more firmly this time, and sat up straight.
He’d drop hints, mention things about the future, let her get used to the idea that he cared and see whether she’d want something more than casual. And maybe a sprinkle of romance.
Yes. That was the right way to go.
He stood up and peered over the edge of the balcony at the wide winding street that led to the restaurants and cafés of The Rocks and sniffed.
“I’m gonna get me some of that pizza, that’s for sure.”
His easy acceptance of how he felt proved that it had been there for a long time, perhaps all along. He’d waited this long for her; he could wait a little longer. He grinned into the night and tipped his glass at the Harbour Bridge, saluting it.
Belle wouldn’t know what had hit her.