A Dozen Dates

by Mitchell, Missy

  “When you finish with it, do you mind if I use it to dig out the drive and path and under the close line. It’ll make it a lot easier to shift the dirt.”

  “Sure, good idea...” Gemma confirmed, and then offered, “Would you like me to do it?”

  “No, that’s okay... I will do it!” Michael said and he smiled at her cheekily, “You can get to playing in your dirt!”

  “Oh, you mean my organic soil...”

  “Yeah...” Michael grinned before continuing, “Sam likes you...”

  “Yeah, she’s great...” Gemma conceded.

  “She is, isn’t she..?” Michael said. He was clearly radiant when he spoke of her and Gemma couldn’t help but to feel a sudden pang of jealousy. She wasn’t used to these... feelings! Could Michael tell – she hoped not... She had to say something to affirm her mock comfort with the situation.

  “Yes, and I think it is no coincidence that she should return to your life a day after we stopped dating...” Gemma blurted out the words, trying to sound chuffed for his pending happy-ever-after.

  Caterpillars wriggled in a state of confusion, “What?”

  Gemma tried to remove the sting from her voice when she spoke, but partially successful as she was with this challenge, the incessant quavering would not subside, “Well, it’s like it was meant to be...” Michael studied her expression, and watched how her gaze kept plummeting downwards, her pretty grey eyes dulling. Was she jealous..? Was Gemma jealous? Wow... She was! This was a curve-ball... This would translate to her having feelings for him... This was great!

  Michael snickered, “Well, it doesn’t hurt for a man to have options...” Gemma paled... He had seen through to the little green monster inside of her, standing rigid and gnawing its teeth, and he leant in and whispered her name into her ear, “Gemma...”

  His low voice and hot breath made her dizzy as it tickled her ear and neck, and the word - her own name spoken with sexy intimidation, completely disarmed her and she felt as vulnerable as the day she was born. Gemma trembled and stuttered, “I want to get this toiling finished before afternoon tea.” She started up the rotary hoe and pushed it into the ground and walked off, her eyes planted firmly on the path she was walking.

  Michael couldn’t get the smile off his face, even as he re-joined Nathan in the house, and as if he had somehow contracted it, Nathan grinned back at him, “You look like the cat that swallowed the canary! What gives?”

  “Gem’s jealous of my affection for Sam..!” Michael eluded, his eyes both humoured and scheming.

  Gemma worked until the toiling was finished, then she joined the men for afternoon tea, where she informed them that she would provide lunch for the next day. After their break, she began wheel barrowing loads of soil to place on top of the garden beds, making trip after trip passed Michael as he slugged it out ripping up the compacted and rocky earth of the driveway. God he was gorgeous! But in this heat he should be wearing a shirt... Oh, but that would be such a shame... She could offer to put sunscreen on him – he was exhibiting a slightly reddish tint. She shouldn’t be dreaming of such things – it was terribly distracting. But, she had a point – Michael really should be adopting a more protective barrier between his beautiful tanned form and the sun. Damn! She couldn’t let him fry to a crisp. Stupid sun-ignorant Michael..!

  On Gemma’s next barrow trip to the back she stopped by her knapsack and got out her sunscreen, then she hesitantly approached the god himself. “Michael!” she yelled over the noise of the rotary hoe, and when he turned to look at her she held it out so he could understand what she was trying to communicate.

  Michael turned off the motor and conceded, “I suppose I should be more careful...”

  Gemma was still holding the sun cream out towards him, not sure what to do or say next, so Michael just giggled at her before turning around and placing his hands on his hips. She moved in behind him and dribbled some cream onto his back before poking the tube down the front of her shorts and commencing the much anticipated rub-down. She spread the cream with big sweeps of her open palms and then began to extend it and rub it in with her thumbs and fingers, his muscles and contours catching her attention and imagination, his burly scent dancing around her senses like a witchdoctor. Then when she finished his back she set out to protect his strong, shapely arms from the damaging rays of Australia’s harsh summer sun.

  By the time Gemma finished to her satisfaction she was intoxicated and trembling, blushing and stuttering. “O-okay,” she stammered. Michael turned around but she couldn’t look at him – his eyes too scrutinising, his chest to tempting, his torso – too close to his...

  “Well?” he said.

  “Well what?” she asked, briefly meeting his gaze.

  “Are you going to finish?” Michael was smiling and she knew he could sense her... lust! Gemma pulled the cream from her shorts and held it out for him to take. “No...” He stated, shaking his head, “I don’t want to get my hands all greasy... Yours are already greasy...”

  Damn him! It made sense. Gemma looked into his playful, possessing light blue eyes and she began to hear her heart pounding inside her head. Her breaths became deeper, shakier, and then she lowered her eyes to his chest. She reached up and dribbled some sun cream onto her canvass before poking it into her shorts and then she hesitantly placed her hands onto his chest. She could feel Michael smiling at her, but she just tried to concentrate on her task. Just spread the damn sun cream... It’s not that hard! His pectorals bulged and filled her hands and as she moved them, his hard little nipples tickled her palms. She quickly made large sweeping motions and spread the cream hastily as far as she could and then again she used her fingers and thumbs to both spread it further and rub it in. Suddenly she felt an isolated breeze on her earlobe, and startled, she jumped back, her chest noticeably rising and falling... He smiled at her and her eyelids instantly became heavy. What was he doing? Gemma reached in and quickly rubbed some cream down over his upper torso, and then she got the tube, squirted a little on her fingers and coloured his nose white before spreading it into a butterfly, her eyes hopelessly returning to his lips as she did so.

  Suddenly Michael grabbed her by the wrist and kissed the back of her hand. “Thank you...” he said, and then he boldly leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

  Gemma walked unsteadily around the back to put the sunscreen away and then into the bathroom to wash her hands. She could hardly believe how her hands were trembling, and how the tingling sensation would not be washed away with soap – like the greasy sunscreen. She hated him! Or at least she wished she hated him...

  The next day, Gemma returned and completed piling soil up on all the gardens and then used the rest to top-dress the whole front yard. They enjoyed the chicken hotpot that she had cooked for them which she proudly served with a carved up French stick. “This is beautiful, Gem,” Michael complimented her and her heart melted as she dreamed of cooking all his meals for him... and their children.

  That afternoon Michael casually asked Gemma if she wanted to go on another date, but she somehow resisted his invitation. “Well, I might see if Sam wants to join me for dinner...” he had stated, it seemed more to himself than to her. After this, Gemma was glad she had nothing to do the next day, and Monday she had college; hopefully by Tuesday any Sam-installed rosy afterglow would have disappeared from Michael’s face.

  Gemma’s stomach was ill all that night, and she didn’t know whether to scold herself or praise herself for declining Michael’s invitation. On one hand, she really liked Michael, and would love nothing more than to be the idol of his adoration... but she wasn’t... And she didn’t need to be dating him and getting more attached to him only to be cut loose after the ninth date. That would be simply unbearable.

  On Sunday, she finally decided to bleach the ebony underside of her hair and then put a toner through it, changing the colour from stark platinum to a very light ash blonde. She was pleased with how it looked, however, she did find a need to a
pply a good quality protein pack, and on Monday afternoon after college, she went and got her ends trimmed.

  On Tuesday, Gemma went around the various local Nurseries comparing the sizes, quality and price of the various plants she needed to complete her picturesque design. Although the trip was mainly for collecting data, she did purchase eight foxtail palms and afterwards drove to the house to plant them in the garden.

  When Gemma pulled up outside the house she saw Sam’s car there. She reminded herself that she was supposed to be there – she did have a job to do there... And so did Gemma... When all is said and done, Gemma was there to do a job. A job which was one she wanted to make a career of, unlike the cleaning she did in the past, out of necessity, and she was gaining valuable experience!

  She got out of her vehicle and walked around the back to collect the wheel barrow. “Gem, come have coffee with us...” Michael invited.

  “I have to get the palms out of the Ute,” she said.

  “Well, come and have coffee first and afterwards I will give you a hand,” Michael insisted.

  “Okay...”

  “Gemma, you’ve changed your hair... It looks beautiful,” Sam offered. Gemma gave up that day... Samantha was impossible to dislike – she had such a vibrant and generous nature. Even she, who was about to have her once lover stolen from her by this woman, could not bring herself to dislike her.

  Gemma smiled, “Thank you.”

  “Gemma always looks beautiful,” Michael commented and Gemma felt herself tingle.

  “So, how did you go this morning..?” Nathan asked.

  “Really well... I picked up the foxtails at a bargain price, I’ve found most of the other plants I need, and have struck some deals with a couple of nurseries for bulk purchases.”

  “Well, you let us know how much we need to reimburse you for the foxtails, and how much you need for the rest,” instructed Nathan.

  “Actually, what if I come with you on Thursday?” Michael offered, “I can give you a hand loading up!”

  “Okay,” Gemma agreed. That would be good... to dazzle him in her domain.

  They finished afternoon tea and Sam announced she had to go. She stood up and Michael rose up with her. “I’ll call you...” he said grinning before grabbing her by the arm, pulling her to him and delivering a peck on her cheek.

  Gemma flushed and quickly looked away.

  “Michael!” Sam scolded him when she saw Gemma’s uncomfortableness. Gemma knew Sam wasn’t the type of woman that would ever rub her hurt into her – unlike that skanky Shelley had been.

  After their break, Michael and Nathan came to help Gemma carry the palms and place them where she wanted them. “I could have done it... I would have just used the wheelbarrow... But thank you...”

  “Gem, some things you don’t need to do while you are here...” Michael smiled at her and she smiled back, thinking how much she liked to watch him work anyway. He was a picture... Each individual muscle standing to attention as it was summoned, teasing and delighting her at the same time. Gemma liked to watch him glow under fine perspiration, which also, she noticed, incidentally resulted in his fresh, musky male scent becoming even more debilitating.

  Michael picked up the last palm from the back of the Ute, took a step towards Gemma and said to her quietly, “Besides, you don’t want to deny me my opportunity to show off my muscles to you, do you?” He dropped his eyes, directing Gemma where to look and grinned as he started popping his bicep up and down, before returning his gaze to her misty eyes and raising his eyebrows up and down suggestively, “Did you see that.” Gemma failed miserably at holding back a pleasured expression and Michael chuckled. “Come on; show me where you want this one...”

  The next day Gemma got to the house, and Michael took her to the first nursery where they collected a Ute load of plants... Then they dropped those off at the house and continued on to the next. They picked up take-away for lunch on the way back the second time, and enjoyed lunch with Nathan and Sam. Gemma spent the whole afternoon, planting and then watering all of the plants, but she still had a lot more to place.

  This day she spent with Michael was pure pleasure, though he was obviously more attracted to the confident and competent, interior decorator. If only Gemma was more like Sam, she might stand a chance with him – he did seem to enjoy her company and her friendship, and wasn’t that supposed to be the foundation for any good relationship?

  Perhaps if she changed the way she presented herself – she was so “girl-next-door” in her shorts and shirts and even the plats she wore in her hair were immature. Sam adorned brightly coloured suits and professional short, stylish hair. She flicked through her cupboard in search of more professional attire... Ah... A pants suit... Perfect! She held up the pinstriped pants suit and studied it... combined with a simple white cami, she should be able to give the impression of being all the professional young go-getter. She leant down and found a tidy pair of shoes – closed with elastic sides and sensible, three inch square heels, then she went to her mirror where she stood and pulled, twisted and held her hair in various styles, finally deciding on a simple but stylish French roll.

  The next morning, Gemma arrived at the house bright and early – she was a picture of urban, sister success! She looked lean and almost mean in her very corporate two-piece pants suit and professional make-up, softened only by the professional, yet still feminine hairstyle.

  “Good morning!” she confidently greeted the brothers.

  “Good morning, Gemma,” they both greeted her, staring at her with expressions of surprise and puzzlement. Gemma noticed their astonishment and was pleased that she was able to collect Michael’s attention so quickly.

  “Okay, I’m going to get started,” she announced as she exited the room.

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before the Australian, summer heat made wearing a black pinstripe jacket unbearable and she had to remove it and place it on the patio. She could feel her brow perspiring and knew her make-up would be running. She would remove her dirty gardening glove to dab her brow with her hanky, but still she managed to get dirt on her face.

  The minute Michael called morning tea she collected her jacket and scampered for the bathroom to fix her failing make-up, before she joined Michael and Nathan for coffee.

  “Where are you off to today, Gemma?” Michael inquired, curious as to why she was dressed the way she was.

  “Nowhere.”

  “Why are you dressed like that?” he asked.

  “Like what?” Gemma tried to play it cool, like she always dressed like a fresh, young go-getter, and Michael had simply never noticed before.

  “Why are you wearing a suit?” Michael continued to probe.

  “I like to be professional in my work?” she avowed.

  “Okay, but you are a landscaper...” Michael pointed out.

  “What is wrong with being a Landscaper?” Gemma asked, becoming defensive of her vocation and unconsciously pulling down a few strands of her hair to twist around her finger.

  “Nothing!” Michael declared clearly. “It just that... Gemma, you look like a lawyer...” he pointed out, and she started to become concerned. “I mean, you look like you are about to sue the weeds for trespassing...” Nathan chuckled at his brother’s revelation, and then Michael snickered also.

  Gemma’s face dropped... This wasn’t the result that she had anticipated – she looked at Michael and instantly felt a fool.

  “Gem...” Michael’s voice softened at her sad expression, “It’s okay... You look very lovely. It’s just you don’t look like... It can’t be comfortable working like that, Gem..?”

  Gemma looked away, “It’s okay...”

  “Okay...” soothed Michael, “But take of that jacket before I faint from heat exhaustion... And I will get you a hat... Okay?”

  “Okay...” said Gemma. She peeled the coat from her clammy body - grateful for coolness the fresh summer breeze provided as it fluttered on her damp, sweaty skin.

 
; She struggled through to lunchtime when she eagerly went to the bathroom, changed into her black bikini and jumped into the pool. She swam a while, only to return to the bathroom to get dressed and discover her clothes missing.

  “Where are my clothes?” Gemma asked the boys, but they both played dumb.

  “Where did you leave them?” Nathan had inquired.

  “I will get you a t-shirt to work in,” Michael had offered.

  Never would Gemma be so stupid again... She knew they had stolen and hidden her clothes, but she also knew it was for her own good. It was awful working in that suit, and when she was honest with herself she could admit that she was glad to have shed it in exchange for Michael’s t-shirt.

  Before she left, Nathan invited her to stay for a barbeque the following night.

  “Oh, that would be good... I will get to meet Miranda... again!” Gemma added, and smiled brightly.

  On Saturday, Gemma returned to dressing in her sensible shorts and shirt combo and completed planting all the plants, and then spent some time watering them. Afternoon came, and Miranda arrived with an esky of supplies for the barbeque.

  “Hi Gemma! It’s good to see you again...” Miranda greeted her and even threw in a loving hug.

  “Oh good, I do recognise you...” Gemma confessed with a chuckle which Miranda happily joined in.

  Miranda was, to Gemma’s surprise, a very pleasant, average looking woman – Nathan had spoken of her as though she was a movie star! She had long straight, brunette hair which on this day she wore pulled back into a single ponytail. She had pretty hazel eyes which shouted her virtues of honesty and loyalty, and compassion – Gemma wasn’t surprised that she worked in aged care. Though, she wasn’t career minded as such... She was actually looking forward to the day, hopefully within a couple of years, when Nathan lets her start a family... He just wanted to do a few houses first to put them in a better financial position, and Miranda understood this. But still, raising at least four kids and being a good wife to Nathan was all she really wanted and she was pushing twenty-eight!

  “Can I lend a hand?” Gemma asked, accompanying her into the kitchen.