by N. R. Walker
Then the back sliding door opened and Wicket came bouncing in, straight over to me. “Hey, little man,” I said, picking him up. And then a woman came in, petite with pretty red hair, and Dane followed behind her giving me an I’m-so-sorry look all over his face. I smiled at him, then turned to his mum. “Hello. I’m Griffin.”
She put her hands to her face. “Aww, look at you. I can see why Dane is so smitten.”
Dane closed his eyes slowly and his shoulders sagged in a horrified kind of way, and Terry groaned behind me. “For God’s sake, Marie. Don’t embarrass the boy.”
I was wearing my work uniform, still with my waistcoat on, and my hair done the way Dane liked it. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “I um, I don’t always look like this. This is me at work. I’m really more of a shorts and T-shirt kind of guy.”
Dane finally came over to me and leaned in, kissing my cheek. “Hi,” he said, but there was “Oh my God, I’m so sorry” in his eyes.
I really liked the way he kissed me hello in front of his family. “Hey,” I replied, with “It’s fine” in my smile.
“Did you want to change?” he asked. “Mum and Dad were just leaving.”
“Oh, you’re not staying for dinner?” I asked his Mum.
Dane stared at the side of my head and I fought a smile. Dane’s voice bordered on pleading. “No, Dad’s just been allowed to drive again after his knee surgery, he probably shouldn’t—”
His mum spoke as though Dane wasn’t speaking. “Oh, we really shouldn’t,” she said, in a way that totally meant they were now staying for dinner.
Dane sagged again and Terry laughed. I took my bag and left to get changed out of my uniform, and I heard Terry say, “Well Marie, he’s got you figured out already.”
Then I heard Marie say, “Oh, Dane. He’s gorgeous.”
Dane’s reply was strained and somewhat muted. “Please don’t embarrass me.”
“It’s all right son,” Terry said. “I won’t let her stay long.”
I laughed quietly as I undid my waistcoat. This was unexpected, and my plans of spending the evening naked with Dane had been thwarted, but for some strange reason, I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind at all.
We spent the evening sitting at the patio table eating Marie’s roast chicken pieces and mashed potatoes. “It’s nothing fancy,” she said modestly.
“Having a mum-cooked meal is always a good thing,” I said, and I think I’d won her over with that. I didn’t say it to be cheesy, though. I meant it.
“Where’s your Mum and Dad?” she asked gently.
I think she thought they were dead or had disowned me or something. “Oh, they live in Brisbane,” I explained. “But my mum insisted on weekly dinners. Even when my sister and I moved out, she’d expect us home once a week for dinner. I never could say no. Everyone loves their mum’s cooking.”
And that led to conversations about families and school and work, and maybe Dane and I learned a bit about each other at the table with his parents that we probably should’ve already known.
When his parents eventually said goodbye, we waved them off and Dane pulled me against him and kissed my cheek. “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“For not bailing. I told Mum about you on the phone yesterday and might have mentioned that you were coming over tonight, and then they just happen to turn up ten minutes before you.” He gave me a squeeze. “I’m sorry I sprung it on you like that.”
I turned in his arms and kissed him chastely. “It was fine. I didn’t mind, and I certainly wouldn’t have bailed.”
His smile was tender. “I think my mum approves of you. Actually, I think she loves you more than me.”
I snorted. “Not likely. But I’m glad I met them. It’s done now, and who knows… maybe if we had left it a few weeks, I’d have been too nervous in the build-up. Being blindsided has its perks.”
He sighed deeply and pulled me a little bit tighter. I loved the way our bellies pressed together, flat and warm. He nudged his nose along my jaw and I knew where he was heading with that.
“Can we talk?” I blurted out before he could get too far.
He froze and pulled back warily, with a sad frown. “Oh.”
I rolled my eyes. “Not that kind of talk, jeez. I just met your parents!” I took his hand and pulled him over to the couch, and together we sat, holding hands. He felt rigid, so I leaned in and kissed his lips. “Not that kind of talk, I promise.”
He let out a breath. “Okay.”
“Seriously though, I want to talk. Falling into bed with you is so easy, and—” I let out a low whistle. “—really good. Actually, it’s better than really good.” I felt the need to fan my face but resisted. “But I don’t want it to be just physical. And talking with your parents tonight made me realise there’s probably a bunch of stuff about each other, important stuff, that we don’t know.”
He relaxed then, and a smile tugged at his lips. “You kinda scared me.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blurt it out like that, but with you kissing my jaw… If I’d waited till you got to my ear, we’d be in bed right now.”
He chuckled, but then sobered a little. “But we should talk, you’re right. If this is going to last, we need to talk.” Then, palming his dick, he readjusted himself. “My body just seems to have this ever-present problem when I’m with you.”
“Well,” I allowed with a smirk, “there are no rules to say we can’t talk with you between my legs.”
He laughed but, in no time, had me on my back on the couch, my head on the cushion, and he was planted between my thighs. He settled his weight on me and smiled. “So, what did you want to know about me?”
I resisted the urge to moan and roll my hips. “First kiss.”
“Penny Ying. Year four.”
“A girl?”
“She lost a bet with Toby Shelton and so she had to kiss me.” He smiled. “It wasn’t terrible but kinda reaffirming for me because I wished like hell Toby had lost. Who was your first kiss?”
I chuckled. “Patrick Dobrev. Year eight, after soccer practice.”
“You played soccer?”
“For a few years, during school. Never took it too seriously though. What about you? Play any sport?”
“Rugby league in high school. Surfing.”
“We still have to have those surfing lessons.”
He kissed me. “We do.”
“Next Monday, maybe?”
He nodded just as Wicket came over to inspect what we were doing. “I think he’s getting used to us touching,” he mused. “But we should probably keep up the desensitising.”
“We totally should.” I shifted my hips a little to get more comfortable, and Dane reacted in kind by arching into me and shuddering.
“Sorry,” he whispered. “I’m trying to behave myself here.”
I chuckled. “You’re being a very good boy.”
He pretended to growl at me but kissed me. “Have you travelled much?”
Oh, right. Question time. “In Australia, I’ve been to Melbourne, Sydney, and Adelaide. Overseas, I’ve been to New Zealand for two weeks with the fam, and we went to Bali for schoolies. What about you?” I leaned up and pecked his lips with mine.
“Not much. The Whitsundays, we did an Outback tour with high school and went to Uluru and to Sydney. Overseas, I’ve been to Fiji. That’s it.”
“If you could pick any country to go to, where would you choose?” I ran my hand down over his arse.
I saw his restraint flicker in his eyes. “Are you changing the rules of the game?”
I lifted one knee a little higher. “No, just enhancing it. I seem to have the same problem around you.”
He ground against my hard-on. “I can tell.”
I bit back a groan and pulled his lips to mine before pulling him back. “Dream holiday destination?”
“Inside you,” he murmured and crushed his lips to mine. He kissed me deeply, tangling our tongues and rubbing his
erection against mine. I couldn’t help it, but I cried out, groaning at the contact, and Wicket let out a sharp bark right next to us.
Startled, we broke apart and looked down at the little dog who was watching us, confused. “It’s okay, I’m not hurting him,” Dane said breathily. He was leaning up on his hands now, our hips still pressed together, and I felt him twitch against me.
“Not yet,” I said with a pained laugh. I reached over and ruffled the fur on Wicket’s forehead. “But I think your daddy should take me into his bedroom where he can make me scream without scaring you.”
Dane was up and off me in a flash, pulling me to my feet. “Bedtime, Wicket,” he said, flipping the lights off as he led me to his room. He closed the door behind us and turned to me. His eyes were dark and predatory. “I won’t ever hurt you,” he whispered, pulling my shirt off. “But you might very well scream.”
I grinned and he pounced on me, kissing my mouth, my jaw, my ear. He hoisted me up easily and I wrapped my legs around him and he lowered me to the bed. “Lights on or off?”
“On. I don’t want to miss a thing.”
His grin was wicked, and he pulled my shorts and briefs off. “Believe me, you won’t.”
We spent the whole of the next day doing sightseeing stuff because Dane wanted to show me around Maroochydore, his hometown. We took Wicket with us, of course, going to the beach, the river, and back to Point Cartwright lookout. We ate fresh seafood on the beach, and we laughed at Wicket, who desperately wanted to bring home a piece of driftwood so big it wouldn’t fit in the car.
That night, we played more question games on the couch, which ended up with us in bed and naked, sated and sleepy. And on Tuesday, which was our Sunday, the three of us took a drive into the hinterland and found ourselves at the Eumundi markets.
We strolled through the stalls, hand in hand, without a care in the world. We chatted with the stall-owners and Dane found a leather bracelet that matched mine. Simple, thin, plaited black leather with a small metal clasp with rings of pride colours. He put it on his right wrist and something beamed from within him. “Looks perfect,” I whispered.
I was pretty sure he wanted to kiss me, right there in front of a hundred other shoppers, but he squeezed my hand instead, and his grin said everything he couldn’t.
I found an organic pet treat stall and bought ridiculously priced chew treats for Wicket.
“You don’t have to pay for things for him,” Dane said.
“These are in my best interest as well,” I assured him and showed him the packaging. “It says right here it’ll keep him entertained for hours.”
Dane laughed and turned to the sales lady. “I’ll have two more, please.”
We sat in the park and ate frozen yoghurt while Wicket had an organic dog cookie, and reluctantly, we knew we had to go home. “I still have to mow Bernice’s lawn,” I said. “And do all the boring household things I need to do.”
Dane sighed. “Me too. Want me to come over to your place on Friday after work? We can alternate Fridays, like a mid-week thing, and then our weekends, if you want?”
I nodded. “I want.”
He smiled, then looked out over the park, at the kids playing and the people enjoying the warm summer day. “You know, since I met you, I’ve spent more time outdoors than I have in a long time. I mean, I would always walk Wicket, but actually getting out and doing stuff.”
“Is that a good thing?” I asked. He looked pensive, so I couldn’t be sure…
“It’s a very good thing.” His gaze shot to mine and something settled between us, like doubt had flitted away, leaving only something solid and rare to fill the space that remained.
I couldn’t look away, and the L word squeezed my heart and tingled on the tip of my tongue, but I stopped it. It was too soon and I didn’t want to scare him or risk crushing the hope love had to bloom. If reality was the axe yet to fall, why be the one to hold it? I’d told my mother I didn’t want to jinx anything, but was that what I was truly afraid of? Or was it because telling her made it real?
Maybe it was about time I put my heart on the line, for real. For keeps.
I let out a nervous breath. “This is a very good thing.”
His blue eyes bore into mine and he nodded. “It really is.”
A squealing kid running past startled us both and the moment was broken. Jesus. But we walked to his car, and on the drive back to Dane’s place, I made a call I knew I had to make.
“Hey, Mum, it’s me,” I said into my phone.
Dane squeezed my free hand and kept it on his thigh.
“Oh, hi, love. How’s things?”
“Yeah, things are great.” I swallowed hard. “Um, remember how I told you I met someone?” I looked at Dane and rolled my eyes, trying not to let my nerves get the best of me.
“Yes,” she said slowly, cautiously.
“I didn’t want to tell you anything about him in case it jinxed everything, but I think we’re past that. His name is Dane Hughes, and I don’t want you to overreact because I’ve never introduced you to anyone I’ve dated, well apart from Nick, but you already knew him, but Mum, I think you should meet Dane.” There was a moment of utter silence. Dane frowned and my nerves were making me nauseous. “Mum?”
Then she sobbed into the phone, and I grinned with relief. I put the phone to my chest and looked at Dane. “She’s crying.”
“Good tears?”
“Are they good tears, Mum?”
More sobbing and a sniffly, “Oh honey, of course.”
I nodded to Dane. “Good tears.”
He sighed and squeezed my hand. “Oh, thank God.”
When I finished mowing Bernice’s lawn, it was steaming hot and muggy as hell, so I took my shirt off and wiped down my face with it. She came out with a tall drink of mineral water, so I sat at her table with her. “Here you go. It’s too hot to be doing it in the afternoons,” she said, scolding me gently.
“I was busy yesterday morning, sorry.”
“Oh, yes. All loved up with Mr Wonderful.”
I grinned as I sipped my drink. “Something like that.”
She smiled but then pointed to my chest. “Well, don’t be going around without a shirt and sunscreen, you hear? I know young people think they’re invincible. I was the bloody same and look at where it got me.” She pointed to the scars that ran from her neck down her arm. “Too many years in the sun and it almost killed me. Melanoma don’t give one shit how old you are, boy.”
Okay, wow. I’d wondered what the scars were from but had never been game to ask. “Melanoma?”
She nodded. “Doctors took it out, so I guess I count myself as lucky. But the cancer took much more than that. My arm, my career.”
God, I didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry to hear that. But I’m glad you’re still here to lecture me about it.” I gave her a smile, aiming for funny.
“Yeah, well, someone has to,” she said bluntly. “Now put your bloody shirt back on.”
I snorted but did what I was told. I was out of the sun, technically, but I guessed Bernice didn’t exactly care for technicalities.
“That’s better,” she said, nodding to herself. “Now, when are you seeing this fella of yours again? Just so I know when I need to crank up the tunes again.”
I laughed, not even embarrassed this time. “Uh, Friday. And again next Monday and probably Tuesday.”
“Oh, so I better get my playlists ready early, huh?”
I grinned. “Probably. We were gonna try and get in that surfing lesson on Monday if you’re still interested…”
“Said I would. I’ll check what K’s doing. He’ll probably want to come along, teach you young’ns how it’s done. He can still ride a longboard like it’s 1973.”
“A longboard? Really?”
“Hell, yes. Best there ever was.” She got some distant look in her eyes like her memories were playing behind them, and she smiled.
“Can I ask you something?”
&n
bsp; Her smile became a little guarded, but she replied, “I dunno. Can you?”
I ignored her gibe at my grammar. “You and K… are you together together?”
She sighed. “As much as we’ll ever be, I suppose.”
“Do you want to be?”
“He does. But I’m happy here on my own.” Her words said one thing, but the sadness in her eyes said something else. Before I could say anything, a beeping sound came from her kitchen. “Shit, my brownies,” she said, getting up and rushing inside. “Nearly burnt m’ brownies.”
I followed her inside and watched as she took a tray of brownies out of the oven. “Oh boy, you’d have been in trouble if I’d wasted a whole batch of hash because we were out there yammering.”
I smiled at her. “They look okay.”
She patted the middle of the brownies, then looked up at me and smiled. “Wanna try one?”
“No thanks,” I said with a laugh. “But I tell you what, how about I bring down a barbeque chook and salad for dinner? I have to go to the supermarket so I can pick it up fresh.”
She stood up straight. “Will there be any more personal questions about K and me?”
I laughed. “Nope.”
“Then sure, why the hell not?”
Chapter Fourteen
Dane
* * *
“How was dinner with Bernice?” I asked. I’d just got home from work and was taking Wicket for a walk when my phone rang. Griffin’s name on the screen had me smiling even before I’d heard him speak.
His laughter down the phone made me grin. “Oh my God. She’s so funny. She thinks she overdid the hash butter or K gave her some extra strong shit because one brownie and she was smashed.”
I snorted. “It cracks me up that she’s a pothead.”
“She says it’s for medicinal purposes,” he explained. “But I reckon she’s been self-medicating since the seventies, at least.”