by Siân James
Clearly my dismay was written across my face. I cleared my expression as best I could. “It’s alright.” I scanned him up and down again searching for a subject change. “How was your run?”
He rocked back on his heels, and granted my desire to move on. “It was great. We should run together sometime.”
Say what?
“You’re joking.”
He did the thing where he tried to hide his smile and shook his head, “Not joking. We should definitely run together. I’ve seen you out. You’re pretty fast; I could slow down a little. It’d be fun.”
Why was he offering this? Did he have any idea how distracting going for a run with him would be? First, I’d have to go and buy new exercise clothes which was something I simply did not have time for. Second, I’d be worried about what I sounded like huffing and puffing and therefore not wanting to breathe, and that was all kinds of problems.
And yet there was his grin. I didn’t get the impression he was making fun of me … My eyes widened slightly as comprehension dawned. Was he instigating a flirt session with me?
I decided to test my theory. “What happens if I can’t keep up?”
“I’m sure you will, but if you have any issues”—he shrugged—“I can always carry you.”
“Carry me?” I pressed my lips together to smother my smile.
His eyes slid down my body, taking their time and igniting the same heat I’d felt in the stairwell when we’d run into each other last week. As his eyes rose to meet mine, so did the blush I knew was colouring my neck and cheeks.
He rubbed thoughtfully at his chin, a telling glimmer in his eyes. “I don’t think it would be a hardship. But then if I need assistance, I’m sure you’re up to date with your mouth-to-mouth resuscitation …” His eyelids lowered to half-mast as those sapphire-blues smoldered at me.
Holy shit.
He was good. Like really, really good. And it wasn’t so much his words, though they were suggestive enough, but it was the way he said them and the way he was examining me. The man was practically a weapon. Forget what’s-his-face who was just here. No one had ever made my nipples tingle from just a few well-placed looks and a provocative comment.
He took another step so his body was closer to mine, causing my nipples to practically lunge at him. Pressing his forearms against the door jamb above his head, he leaned down so I had to tilt my face to see his. He smelt of clean sweat and man, and in my present state I couldn’t help but lick my lower lip. His eyes dropped to my mouth, darkened and lifted back to mine. “Say, Izzie,” he rumbled, his voice coming from deep in his chest now.
“Hmm?”
“Can I ask you something?”
I licked my lips nervously again and nodded. At this point he could ask me to fly to the moon with him and I’d probably agree.
“Who was your dream about?”
Like a bucket of cold water and déjà vu all at once I took a step back. Was he flirting with me because of the dream? Did he think I was some horny backwater hippy who wanted to get laid? Or was he just trying to prove a point? That he was the better flirt?
“What?” My voice sounded as breathless as I felt.
He straightened. “Sorry, I thought—”
I shook my head. “No, no, you didn’t think. We do not have the kind of relationship where I would discuss things of such a personal nature with you.”
Looking suitably contrite he took a step back. “I had hoped maybe—”
“No.”
He pressed his lips together a moment before speaking again. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
Unable to see through my own mortification, my main concern was ending this encounter as soon as possible. “I think you’ve said enough, don’t you?”
He flinched at my words, and I felt a moment of remorse. “Good night.” And I stepped back further and used the hand holding the blueberries to close the door.
I waited a moment, my chest heaving as if I’d run a sprint. I strained for the sound of movement and eventually heard a muttered expletive, a heavy sigh, and footsteps as he moved around the landing and up the stairs. I held my breath until I heard his door open then close again.
Turning, I dropped the blueberries and takeaway on the kitchen table, grabbed my glass of wine and took a healthy slug before sliding down the door of the fridge to the floor with a groan.
How on earth was I ever going to face him again? Why, oh why, did he have to be my business’s landlord? We just seemed to be going from one bizarre disaster to another.
I took another slug of wine and realised I’d finished the glass.
“Damnit.”
Groaning, I stood and refilled my glass then stared vacantly out the window. It was time to make myself a promise before my dignity was completely in the toilet. I would not speak to him in any but a professional capacity from this moment on. I would be cool, calm, collected and most importantly professional.
I lifted the glass to my mouth, adding as an afterthought, “And no more sex dreams.”
Chapter 9
“What do you mean the electricity will be off all day?” I tried not to let the intense irritation I was feeling infuse my voice, I really did, but it had to go somewhere.
Matt’s already dark expression darkened further. “I told you yesterday, you all had a letter explaining the situation, and I spoke to you in person.”
“When I was on the phone,” I returned through clenched teeth.
He huffed an irritated breath and raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know, you might have been.” The dark shadows under his eyes only highlighted his frustration.
It’d been a rough few days on the block. One of the contractors renovating the upstairs office space had cut through a water pipe unmarked on the plans and flooded through into Luke and Andy’s surf shop. They’d spent a day mopping it all up and hired industrial fans to help dry it out.
Now Matt was telling me some electrical circuits had been compromised and needed to be addressed ASAP, so we’d be without power and essentially unable to complete any work for a whole day. Maybe more.
I started mentally cataloging the contractors who would be showing up shortly ready to continue work on the plasterboard walls and plumbing in the back room. At the very least they needed light, and electricity for their tools.
I groaned and dropped my face into my hands.
“Look, when do your guys get here?” Matt asked.
I pulled my hands down just enough to eye him through my fingers. “In about an hour.”
“Okay, don’t cancel them just yet. Let me make a few calls.”
I nodded and sighed. “Sure.” I had no idea what he thought he was going to do to fix this. The power was out. End of story. Meanwhile I had a wedding to attend. I’d spent the last few days at a friend’s florist up in Byron Bay putting together the finishing touches on the arrangements for a small wedding for a friend of a friend. When I had told her I wouldn’t have any premises for the date she’d booked me, but that I had a great colleague who was happy to take on her account, she nearly had a breakdown right there. Turns out the mother-in-law was a nightmare. She was marrying into money but she and hubby were determined to have an intimate wedding, much to the groom’s mother’s dismay. As such, it had to be perfect, or she might never hear the end of it. I can’t say I wasn’t enormously flattered that part of her idea of a perfect wedding meant flowers by me. So I did the only thing I could, I continued with the account despite the fact I was in the middle of renovating and borrowed my friends’ premises. Lucky I had good friends.
“I’m off site most of the morning anyway; I have a wedding.”
Confusion marred his features as his brows twisted quizzically. “You have a wedding? As in, as a florist?”
I nodded. “Yeah,”
“What the hell, Izzie? You’re in the middle of renovating a new property, the property you will run your florist business for, and you have a gig? Where are the fl
owers?”
As he spoke, my hackles rose. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I have a colleague with a florist in Byron Bay who’s been helping me out with this. Some brides, or their families in this case, can be particularly fragile. It wasn’t worth the drama of shifting her to another business.” I took a breath and turned away, ready for this conversation to be over. “Anyway, it isn’t a big deal.”
“Isn’t a big deal? You’re joking, right? You’ve looked in the mirror lately?”
I spun on him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You look exhausted. How many other accounts are you still holding? And what about your second business? The online consulting? I went past your apartment the other night at midnight and the light was still on under your door,” he finished accusingly.
“Some of my clients are in Perth. They have a different time zone over there, genius.” I returned through gritted teeth. If I’d been less angry, I might have wondered why he’d been paying attention. “Anyway, what were you doing out so late? Walk of shame?” I spat, my ears ringing in warning as the nasty words spilled from my mouth. “She didn’t even let you stay the night, did she?” Mocking wasn’t my style but he was poking the bear today, and he knew it.
He rocked back on his heels, folding his arms over his chest and shook his head. Just when I thought he wasn’t going to say anything else, he muttered, “Fucking clueless” and walked away.
I poked my tongue out at his back while my eyes were glued to his butt.
Yeah, okay, so I was failing at the speaking professionally vow. More concerning was my failure at the no more sex dreams vow.
That was the real reason I wasn’t getting enough sleep. It was hot at night, and I kept waking up tangled in my sheets, unsatisfied and pissed off.
I didn't have time for this shit. I needed to stay on track or my business would fail. And getting involved with my landlord … that was just a recipe for disaster.
My phone rang. I pulled it from my pocket, saw the display read Camille, swiped my thumb across the screen and answered, “Yo,”
“Bonjour, will you be here to pick me up soon? Only we are supposed to be collecting the flowers in less than an hour.”
I checked my watch. “Crap!” She was right, how had the time gotten away from me so quickly?
“I’ll be there in five.”
I hung up. Now what? I added up the contractors in my head who I’d have to call to cancel today. Four! How did I have four different workmen coming to work on my small space today? Ugh.
Camille could drive, but I knew each phone call would take at least ten to fifteen minutes while we nutted out any of the other things that seemed to continuously crop up while renovating a property. Then there was the issue with the phone reception cutting in and out on the highway up to Byron Bay.
“Shit.” I knew what I had to do, but I really didn’t want to do it. Sighing, I mentally pulled up my big girl panties and ran after Matt.
I found him out the back of the property on the phone in a masculine pose of frustration. The hand not clutching his phone was lifted, elbow to the sky as he rubbed the back of his head.
I stopped a few steps away to give him privacy but close enough to get his attention. When he turned his frustrated eyes on me, I flinched but gave a small wave which I intended as something like “Hi, me again. I come in peace.”
He straightened, his eyes narrowing on my hand before sliding back to my face. “Yep, right. Okay, let me know as soon as possible, please.” He paused then said goodbye and hung up.
As he lowered his phone, his movements were slow and deliberate. “Yes?” His tone was hard, and I didn’t blame him. I’d just accused him of a walk of shame which was uncouth even if my mind couldn’t stop wondering if it was the truth. Plus, I could see he was just as stressed, if not more so, about the situation as I was.
“Um, hi,” I started and waited for his response. When none was forthcoming, I continued, my words running over themselves. “Well, I realise what I just said was out of line, and for that I apologise. I know you’re doing the best you can too. I had no excuse to lower the tone the way I did. The issue is I have to leave in about—” I looked at my watch. Shit! “—Uh, two minutes ago, and I need to know whether I’m going to be calling my contractors while I’m on the road to cancel or not?”
I’d focussed my eyes on his boots as I spoke, but when I finished, I lifted them to peek at his face from under my eyelashes.
He was watching me, no longer frustrated but now something akin to disgruntled.
I gave him a small smile, hoping it’d hurry his answer along because being under the weight of his wary scrutiny, as non-sexual as it was, was doing things to my body that were no longer contained within my night time imaginings.
His eyes dropped to my mouth, and he stared, his eyes becoming unfocussed.
After a weighted moment of lip-tingling tension, I decided to break the silence. “Matt?”
Shaking his head, he came out of his thoughts slowly.
“Are you—” I was starting to wonder how much sleep he was getting. “Is everything alright?”
He barked a laugh then looked away, swiping his hand across his mouth. I took his moment of thought as an opportunity to really study him in a way I hadn’t for several days now. The shadows under his eyes indicated he really wasn’t getting much sleep, the stubble around his jaw was in the half-grown beard stage and he would wear it very well if it wasn’t for the mess of his hair, spiky and disheveled as if he was continuously running his fingers through it.
Despite all this I had to acknowledge he was still the most handsome man I’d ever laid eyes on.
His attention focused back on me and I did my best to appear contrite. The purple shadows under his eyes only seemed to highlight the brilliant blue of his irises as they scanned me like a razor beam. What did he see what he looked at me? Did he see me as haphazardly put together, yet utterly irresistible as I thought of him?
Probably not.
Something behind his eyes changed, his features softened and he seemed at once annoyed and determined.
”Don’t call your contractors. I have it handled. I’ll deal with them when they arrive.”
Hope welled in my chest. “So the electricity will be on?”
“Yeah,” he grunted in acknowledgement, then added on a mutter, “more or less.”
Unwilling and without time to ask what he meant I did a little jump in the air and squealed. ”Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Then without thinking I leaned in, my hands on his upper arms and kissed him on the cheek. At the contact of my hands, his body froze but my momentum meant I’d followed through with the cheek kiss. As I hastily pulled back, realising I’d crossed a boundary, time seemed to slow. My hands sent an urgent message to my brain cataloguing the hardness of his biceps, the silky heat of his skin over firm muscle and the erotic scratch of his beard against the soft skin of my cheek, while his clean masculine scent wrapped around me like a cloud of exquisite seduction, making it feel as if I were moving through jelly when I pulled back.
My eyes lifted to his to find him watching me with his wary expression, though now the underlying heat was hard to miss. It ignited an answering fire in my lower belly and sent delicious fissures of awareness from where my hands still touched him, up my arms and across my breasts.
Though it was by no means a cold morning, I shivered and dropped my hands. “Sorry, ran away with myself there.”
He said nothing, just continued to watch me with that same intensity.
Understanding it was my cue to leave, I made my excuses and hightailed it to my car, only looking back when he was firmly in my review mirror, but he was already gone.
Chapter 10
I placed the stack of white boxes containing the floral hair pieces for the bride and her bridesmaids on the table beside the hair dresser and turned to the bride. She sat in front of the mirror, watching as the hair dresser finished cu
rling her long waves.
“All the flowers are placed and perfect. It looks like an absolute fairytale down there,” I assured her. And it did. A floral arbour, a long train of flowers trailing along the centre of the sole table set for twenty-five, and floral wreaths cascading from the wooden lattice that lined and covered the outside walkway where the feast was to be held on the small winery estate where they’d chosen to have their wedding.
“Really?” The anxiety warring with excitement on her face put a dampener on what was otherwise my favourite part of delivering the flowers. After being on the premises for two hours, securing all the bouquets, trains and wreathes and making sure not a petal was out of place, Camille and I had become intimately acquainted with the mother-in-law, or should I say “dragon-in-law” as the bridesmaids had whispered behind their hands to me.
The woman was a nightmare.
She was already on the premises and attempting to impose her order on the setup of the venue. Luckily all the staff including Camille and myself had been warned this might happen and were instructed to ignore her. Initially I’d felt a distinct tension when she’d asked for me to remove all the yellow roses from the display but after a sharp glance from Camille, and a commiserating one from the catering staff, I felt no qualms about thanking her for her input but the selection and layout of the flowers had already been expressly agreed upon by the bride and groom and as such it would be unprofessional of me to make any last minute changes without their consent.
She sniffed and moved on but holy hell.
The bride glanced in the mirror to confirm her future mother-in-law wasn’t in the room, then said in a lower note, “Did you meet her?”
I nodded. “Oh yes, and may I say you are one brave and determined lady. Her son must be something special.”
A dreamy expression came over her face. “He sure is. I never believed in the idea of true love. Even when we first met, I didn’t get it. After a few months, he went away for a week-long work trip, and I realised how essential he’d become to my life. It had happened so smoothly, without fuss or drama, no damsel in distress or anything. Just a gentle joining of our lives, like the smoothest key sliding the bolt to lock.” She shrugged, a soft blush of bashfulness spreading prettily across her cheeks. “I thought I was happy before, but a joy shared is a joy multiplied.”