by Siân James
I laughed out loud. He genuinely sounded worried about the reaction from his sister. I assured him I had many boxes full of fragile items that needed unwrapping next week, and he sighed his relief. He made me promise to think about coming to the Grape tonight if Tash was keen and I said I'd run it by her. We rung off with a “It was really nice to hear your voice” from him and an awkward “Me too” from me.
He laughed and the phone went dead before I could clarify but I figured he knew what I meant.
“We're here,” Camille said, and I lifted my eyes from my phone. She'd parked us outside Emerald Paints.
I turned my head to see she was watching me closely. “What?”
With a shrug of her delicate shoulders, she smiled her feline smile and shook her head “Nothing, ma cherie.” And she climbed out of the truck.
Collecting the paint was easy enough as we had an order and I knew Terry, who owned the store, because he was friends with Jim. We'd had too many beers a few times over a pit fire in Mum and Jim's backyard when they had a party or gathering as they were wont to do every few months.
After helping us put the paint tins, paintbrushes, rollers, poles and other paraphernalia on the tray of the truck, Terry leaned against the back gate and wiped his brow. “I hear you're dating Matt Carter.”
My mouth dropped open. I mean, what the hell?
He glanced at Camille who had turned away quickly to walk around the truck bed to the driver's side door. Her shoulders shook silently. He turned back to me, studying my face.
“ ‘Bout time you found someone to settle down with. He's a nice young man and his folks are tickled pink you're in the picture.”
I gave Terry my best attempt at a smile. “It's early days. Plus, he isn't staying.” He looked confused so I added, “He still has a job in Sydney he has to get back to. He's only here on leave.”
Terry's face dropped, “Ah, sorry, love. I didn't realise. I thought he'd given it up altogether.”
“No, nope.” I confirmed but a knot of uncertainty suddenly took hold. We had never spoken about his plans. It was widely circulated that he was only here on leave—his Mum had confirmed it to me only a few weeks ago. Had anything changed?
He and I had stopped circling each other. But it was early days. Yeah, so we'd had some of the deepest conversations of my life. He made me laugh and feel gushy and mushy. And he was undeniably hot—even though we had yet to do the four-legged foxtrot, (Gladys’s terminology), it was obvious he really knew what he was doing in that department.
But surely he hadn't made any drastic decisions about his life and job based on me? On us? No, from what I knew of him, he wasn't that naive or stupid. But neither had he discussed with me his plans regarding his job. Nor had I ever asked. Mostly because I assumed it was a done deal, and we both understood this was a quick fling.
Then why is he talking to his family about me? A thrill of fear and hope shot through me, so entwined I couldn't detangle them to understand which was stronger.
I shook it off and grinned at Terry. “Thanks for the paint, Terry, and especially the discount. Make sure you come in after we've opened, and I'll give you a bouquet for Pam, on the house.”
“I'll do that.”
I hopped in the truck where Camille was waiting, the engine idling to blast the air-con.
“Let's go,” I said as I buckled my seatbelt. She pulled out, and we sat in silence for most of the way to the shop. But eventually I couldn't handle it anymore, and I turned to her. “How does everyone know something is going on with me and Matt?”
“I think, ma cherie, you forget where you live. The gossip mill, as you call it, works on overdrive in Emerald Cove. And with you both being favourite children with mother's who are fond of you, how could you expect to keep anything to yourselves? Let alone something as juicy as this?”
I harrumphed while Camille pressed her lips together in a show of containing her amusement. That mother of mine. She and I would have words soon.
Tash was waiting for us at the shop, holding a tray with three cups of iced lattes and a bag of pastries.
“You're a lifesaver,” I said as I grabbed at a cup.
“Oh, no, this wasn't me. Matt was here waiting for you, and he brought these for us. He said we'd need sustenance for the painting.”
I craned my neck. “Where is he?”
Tash grinned at me. “He had to go. Said he was sorry but his sister couldn't wait any longer for an Edger. What's an Edger?”
I shrugged and peered inside the bag. Apple cinnamon scrolls. My favourite.
“How thoughtful of him,” Camille said, eyeing me suggestively. “He must be very invested.”
I felt my face colour but I didn't answer.
“Let's get on with the painting. Are you staying, Camille?”
Her grin dropped. “Non, I have to paint my nails and give my hair a conditioning mask.” She puffed at her sleek, shiny French bob. If I had the time and inclination, I reckon I could have hair half as good as Camille's.
“Okay, au revoir,” I said, and she grinned at me.
“Très bon. Je ferai de vous un francophone.”
“Sure, sure.” I waved her off before admitting I had no idea what she'd said.
Tash and I got to work and managed to finish one whole wall in the space of two and half hours when we decided to call it quits because we were hot, sticky, paint splattered and dying for a beer.
I asked her to join me for dinner at my place earlier, and she'd happily agreed, so after closing the shop, she headed to her house to clean up, and I headed to mine.
Matt was just starting his car as I pulled in. He rolled down his window and waited until I could meet him there.
“Hey,” he said, his tone heavy with amusement as he scoped me up and down, taking in my paint-splattered attire. “How much paint made it on the wall?”
“Funny,” I replied. “We got one whole wall finished.”
“Well done.”
“Thank you, and thank you for your donation to our energy levels. It was very much appreciated. You might just be Tash and Camille's favourite man of the day.”
He quirked a brow. “I'd rather be your favourite man of the day.”
“Pretty sure you already stole my favourite-man-of-the-week spot,” I said coyly, then leaned in and gave him a chaste but sweet kiss. He grinned back at me, his eyes doing their blue fire thing. Focussing on my mouth, he gave sighed. “I have to go; I promised Jake I'd start in about five minutes.”
I nodded. “Okay, have fun.”
“See you soon?” He still sounded hopeful and it inspired a torrent of guilt inside me. He would see me soon, if only I would tell him I'd cleared most of my evenings and we could plan some dates. But something was stopping me from speaking as he reversed his truck out of the park.
No, I had to be honest with myself. It wasn't something—it was fear. Fear of leaving myself vulnerable. Fear of letting him know how interested I was. Fear he'd read too much into it and I'd either send him running or we'd go too fast, and I'd freak out and ruin the whole thing.
“Matt!” I called out just as he was about to turn onto the road. His break lights came on, and I ran to his side window.
“I sent an email out cancel most of my evening consultations for the next month.” And I proceeded to word-vomit everything that had been going through my mind regarding supportive clients and re-worked schedules and reduced stress levels. When I drew to the finish, I sucked in a huge breath and in a rush added, “And I know I need to make time form my friends, especially Tash right now, but also I wanted to make time for you, so I just wanted you to know.”
When he didn't immediately respond, I looked from my twisting hands to Matt and my breath caught in my throat. Those eyes. He could light me on fire when he smouldered at me like that.
“So you're saying we can set up a date?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Tomorrow morning?”
My heart skipped. “Yes,�
� I whispered on a grin.
His answering grin was—wow. Just wow.
It was full of some many promises, and I wanted to talk about every single one. In detail.
“Gotta get going, hon.”
I stepped back from the car, unable to contain my smile at his endearment, and waved as he took off in the direction of the pub.
Heaving a fluttery, giggly sigh, I took myself upstairs to scrub the paint off my skin and out of my hair and begin preparations for an easy chicken and veggie pasta.
Tash arrived not long after I'd begun chopping the mushrooms. Clean and smelly great, she perched on a stool on the other side of the bench, uncorked the wine, poured us both a healthy slug, then downed most of hers in one go.
I threw half a mushroom into my mouth. “Want to stay over tonight?”
Tash shook her head. “Nah, Andy dropped me off and said he'd take me home later. He and Luke are at the Grape tonight. It's the finals in the darts tournament.”
I nodded and continued chopping, watching covertly as Tash refilled her glass and took another few gulps. “Want tell me what's up?”
And then she burst into tears. Not pretty tears either. Great, wracking sobs that shook her body and mine when I sped from behind the counter and threw my arms around her.
Stroking her back, I shushed her and held her as she cried. There was no point in asking what had upset her while she was in such a state, so I waited until she'd calmed herself. After a moment, I settled her on the couch with another glass of wine and some crackers, cheese and half eaten dips I found at the back of my fridge, put the chopped veggies into a container and the chicken away and ordered us a Chinese take-away from Silver Phoenix.
I settled myself on the couch across from her, handed her a box of tissues and said, “Okay, tell me.”
And she did. Apparently she'd been seeing a guy secretly for the last eight months—eight months—and things hadn't ended well.
“But why didn't you tell me?”
Tash shrugged, defeated and sad, and my heart broke a little for her. “It's complicated. First it was an accident; then, it happened again and again—”
“You mean sex?”
She twisted her face. “Yes, but there was more to it. We've known each other a while …”
She trailed off and I scrunched my nose in thought. “Wait.” I gasped. “He's not married, is he?”
“No! And he's not in a relationship either,” she added.
“Phew! Cos I didn't want to have to lecture you over that. Is he old? One of your dad's friends?”
“No, and I'd really rather you don't try to guess.”
I could respect that. She hadn't told me in the first place and while it hurt a little, I guess she had her reasons. Plus it wasn't just Tash involved. Random guy also had a say, I guess.
“So is it over, then?”
She nodded sadly. “I think it has to be. I can't—things happened, and I just can't.” She grabbed another tissue as tears leaked from her eyes again.
A wave of cold washed over me at her words. “Tash, he didn't hurt you, did he?”
“No! No of course not. Look, he's not any of those things, and he didn't hit me or abuse me in anyway. Things just … just didn't work out.”
“And you thought they would?”
She nodded and took a sip of her wine. “Yeah, I did.”
“Do you love him?”
She nodded again, more tears leaking, and I leaned in to give her another hug. “I'm so sorry, honey. I wish I could take all the pain away from you. I wish I could do something to help.”
She let out a laughing sob. “Wine, cheese and Chinese helps. I just need you to …”
“Yes?” I pulled back as she cast around for something. She looked so forlorn.
“Watch a movie with me? No romance, something aggressive.”
“I can do that. How about a bit of Bruce Willis? Die Hard?”
“Perfect.”
There was a knock at the door. “That'll be the Chinese.”
I leapt up to grab my purse, and as I did I realised what I'd done and who was apt to be on the other side of the door. My steps slowed as thought about how to approach this, then decided I was being silly. Nothing had to change, just because I was planning dates with Matt didn't mean I had to stop flirting with Otto.
Deciding to put my best flirt forward I steeled myself and opened the door.
Otto grinned at me, and something inside my chest blossomed, then fizzled. He was still just as handsome as ever, but now it was muted. There was no potential, because all my potential was wrapped up in Matt.
Damn.
“Beautiful Izzie, we have to stop meeting like this.”
“Hi, Otto.” I smiled and pulled out some cash for a tip. “It's nice to see you again. Did you enjoy your evening last week?”
His smile deepened. He blushed and suddenly I was intrigued. “Spill.”
“I met someone,” he said sheepishly and I grinned.
“That's great! Do I know her?”
“I don't think so but she knows of you.”
“Oh?”
“She is a teacher at the primary school and works with a friend of yours. Plus, you're kind of famous in town. The local girl who runs the beautiful florist. She's very excited to come to the festival and opening next weekend.”
“Well, I'm flattered and I can't wait to meet her.”
We grinned at each other, and I sadly realised the flirting was over. Some men and women could flirt with a door whether they were in committed relationships or not, but Otto and I were not those kinds of people.
“Have a good night, Izzie.”
“You too, Otto.”
I closed the door and turned back to Tash. Time for Operation: Be a Good Friend.
Chapter 20
I skipped down the stairs, my thoughts centred around whether Tash was suffering a hangover today and if drinking a whole bottle of wine last night had been a good idea for her.
I'd stopped after two glasses, needing to be alert today and my imminent date with Matt.
I wasn't sure what we were going to do, but he'd texted last night to confirm I was free from ten am.
Now it was just after seven, and I was headed out for a walk on the beach. Something I hadn't had the luxury of doing on a Sunday morning in a very long time. Usually I had consultations.
Lost in my thoughts, eyes on my phone I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. I swung around the first flight of stairs and ran into a wall.
Nope, not a wall.
Matt grabbed my waist, while my hands went to his chest as he went back a step, taking me with him. We were plastered together from hips to chest and I made no attempt at moving. He was shirtless. His golden skin, beard and hair were speckled with white crystals, ocean salt drying in the hot morning air. His breath smelt of coffee; his eyes were two sapphire pools with desire swirling darkly in them.
His hands tightened on my waist as mine slid through the scattering of hair on his chest to his shoulders. I trailed my finger along his collarbone to reach a patch of salt on his neck. I rubbed at it then lifted my finger to my mouth and sucked.
Matt made a rumbling noise in his chest, and I lifted my eyes to his. They were watching my mouth. “You gonna kiss—”
He hadn't finished asking the question before I planted my lips against his. He didn't need any encouragement, his arms swept around me, pulling my body further into his and his mouth opened, his tongue sweeping inside, and things got a little wild.
My hands were everywhere. I couldn't touch enough of his skin. They wrapped around his neck, my fingers sifted into his hair, and I scratched my nails lightly through his scalp. He shivered and twisted my ponytail around one fist and tugged gently, exposing my neck to his ravenous mouth. He nipped and sucked as my hands explored the clefts and valleys of his impressive chest and shoulders. Without my noticing how we got there I was pushed up against a wall. The contrast of cool-breeze blocks against my
back and Matt's hot body plastered to my front made me gasp, and he took the opportunity to slide both his thigh between my legs and his tongue back into my mouth. I groaned like I'd missed his mouth because I had. Instead of sliding my legs apart to accommodate his thigh, I hooked them around his hips, climbing him in an effort to get closer.
His hands went to my bottom, and he ground himself into me and I felt—Oh my God—I felt him right there, hard and needy, only a few thin sheets of clothing between us and I wanted.
Oh God, I wanted him so bad. Without a conscious thought I used my legs around his hips to leverage myself and rubbed my soft parts against his hard parts. I couldn't grind at this angle and the lack of needed friction made me frustrated. His mouth trailed hot kisses down my jaw and along my neck. My chest bowed towards him as I leaned my upper back against the wall, finding the right position to grind against him. His teeth nipped at one straining nipple through my top, and heat flooded between my legs.
“Matt,” I whimpered, hoping he'd understand what I needed.
Without breaking contact Matt rushed up the short flight of stairs to my front door, his mouth sucking my nipple through my shirt he slammed my back against the wall beside the door. “Keys,” he panted, and I moved to retrieve them from my sports bra.
He groaned as my hand disappeared between my breasts and my lips curved in what I knew was a saucy grin. When I retrieved the keys, he snatched them from me, grinding his hips into mine, eliciting a gasp from me and a groan from him. I attacked him again, my lips tracing the salt along the chorded muscles of his neck while I dug my heels into his arse and did my best to rub myself against him, desperate for the much-needed friction to satisfy my aching need.
“Fuck, Izzie, you gotta stop doing that.” Matt warned before he finally got the right key in the lock, opened the door and moved us through. He kicked the door shut behind him and pushed me up against the wall beside it, using the considerable strength of his thighs to hold me up. His mouth came back to mine and our hands once again explored, his clever fingers sliding under the bottom of my shirt. Up and off it went. He pulled one strap of my very unsexy sports bra down, exposing my breast, and his hot mouth sucked it deep, and I felt the answering throb between my legs.