Just a Little Fling (Landscape Lovers Book 1)

by Dee Florence

  If this is what I want for my future—and I know it is—this is a great way for me to meet and network with people in the industry.

  One of the lecturers from my course—the one who organised the tickets—is having a dinner for his students attending the conference. As we only interact online, this will be a good chance to meet my classmates in person.

  It will be interesting to see if the personalities I’ve assigned to them match up to what they’re really like. Hopefully there are some good conversations to be had.

  But first, work.

  I climb out of my ute at the new job site and something yellow catches my eye from the passenger seat. It’s a handwoven bracelet. Cate must have left it behind. I rub it between my fingertips and smile at the thought of her in my car.

  That afternoon may have gone pear-shaped, but I don’t regret taking her shopping for succulents. I pocket the bracelet for safe keeping and walk over to the morning huddle.

  I spot Matt and he nods and looks away. I know he has more to say, but now is not the time. We get an overview of the project and what we’re each tasked with for the day and how it’s expected to play out for the week.

  I’m going to be helping Matt start a multi-day planting, even though I’m off for the next two days. The project manager thinks this will set the team up for the rest of the week, rather than me working on a solo project that would need a handover at the end of today.

  We work, mostly in silence, with the radio playing in the background. Sometimes we’re chatty, but today it’s easier to stay focussed on the task in front of us. We make great progress by morning break time.

  The sun is making its presence known as we step into the shade for our break.

  I’m guzzling down water when Matt steps up next to me and speaks in a low voice so the others can’t hear. “Who was that I saw you with at the garden centre? You looked like I’d busted you on a secret date. Is she one of Ella’s friends?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but that was Cate.”

  “Am I supposed to know who Cate is?” He raises his eyebrows.

  “Well, yeah. The woman I met at the party a few weeks ago? The woman you told me to bring to your birthday weekend? Am I ringing any bells yet?” I huff out.

  “Wait. That was her? You’re hanging out and shopping for plants with that chick? Does she have a magic vagina or something?”

  I ball my hands into fists and it takes all my willpower not to clock him one in the face.

  “Don’t fucking talk about her like that. This is why I didn’t tell you. What the fuck is wrong with you?” I whisper hiss at him so we don’t cause a scene.

  “Whoa. Okay there buddy. Apparently, I hit a nerve. I had no idea.” He holds his palms up and shakes his head.

  “Look, I don’t know what it is. But it’s something and because we saw you on Saturday she thinks that I’m ashamed of her looks. But really, you’re a fucking brute and I didn’t want you scaring her away. She’s stunning. End. Of. Story.”

  “How would I scare her away? I love women. Women love me.”

  “No. You love to fuck women and treat them like shit afterwards.”

  “I’ve had no complaints.”

  “You’re hardly the one they complain to. And you’re not fucking my woman. Ever. So, you don’t know how to not act like a total dick.”

  He huffs in indignation. “That’s bullshit. I’m good to Ella. I can be good to…what’s her name?”

  I throw him a pointed look. “Ella tolerates you. And her name is Cate, with a C. You know what? I’m done with you today, bro.” I shake my head and walk away.

  “Are you still coming to my party or are you going to still be in a mood then?” He calls after me.

  I just shrug and find the furthest part of the area we’re working on, away from him, to spend the rest of the day. We don’t speak again other than to say a bland goodbye at home time.

  I get home with enough time to call a cab, wash my face and grab the carry-on bag I packed last night. Luckily, the airport is quite central in Adelaide, so it won’t take long before I’m on my flight.

  The flight is a little over an hour and my hotel is a short walk to the official conference hotel. I take a cab from the airport and 35 minutes later we’re pulling up out the front of where I’m staying.

  There are lots of eateries and restaurants in this part of the city, so it’s easy for me to find some dinner to take back to the hotel with me.

  I reach for my room key in my shorts pocket and my fingers brush some thread. I pull it out and realise that Cate’s bracelet is still there from this morning. I lace it around my fingers and get out my room key for the elevator.

  I let myself into the hotel room and set my meal on the desk that’s attached to the wall. I can’t help but rub the bracelet between my fingers again and I have the strangest sensation that I’m missing something.

  Or maybe it’s someone?

  I eat my meal and look over the conference schedule to try to decide what sessions to attend tomorrow. I had a brief look when I secured the tickets, but I’ve been distracted lately and I want to make sure that I really make the most of this.

  I write myself a schedule for the first day and set my alarm.

  The early start this morning, plus the flight have left me feeling ready for bed not long after dinner. The time difference means that it’s 30 minutes later than my body thinks it is, which works in my favour tonight.

  I have a nice hotel-length shower to wash this day away and crawl into the delicious hotel bed. I can’t help but think of Cate and how we could make use of this plush king size bed. It feels like forever since I left her apartment late yesterday afternoon.

  I can’t resist reaching for my phone.

  Blake: Hey, sweet cheeks! How was your day?

  Blake: Did I tell you that I’m in Melbourne this week?

  Sweet Cheeks: It was okay. It feels easier to handle having the craft classes as a backup.

  Sweet Cheeks: Wait! What??

  Sweet Cheeks: Why are you in Melbourne? How long for?

  Sweet Cheeks: Why did you not mention this?

  Blake: I’ve got the Landscape Architecture Conference on Tuesday and Wednesday. I flew out tonight after work. I’m home late Wednesday night.

  Blake: I might have been too busy eating you out to remember? I’m sorry you’re so distracting, babe!

  Sweet Cheeks: Blake!! You can’t write that in a text!! *blushing embarrassed emoji*

  Blake: Doesn’t make it any less true, gorgeous.

  Blake: Though, bringing it up makes me wish I was there now.

  Sweet Cheeks: Well, you decided to be a plane ride away, so wishing is all you’ll get tonight. *shrugs emoji*

  Blake: Thank fuck you’ve already given me a bucket load of memories to get me through. Those noises you make, just for me, are going to play on loop all night. But when I get back I’m going to need those in my ear for real.

  Sweet Cheeks: Maybe my dance card will be filled by then? Who’s to know with you gone so long…

  Blake: Grr! You better keep that dance card free for me, sweetness, I’m nowhere near finished and I always finish what I start. You’re all mine this weekend. Count on it.

  Sweet Cheeks: I’ll check my diary and get back to you. *wink emoji*

  Sweet Cheeks: Enjoy the conference. Good night, bear arms. xx

  Blake: Sleep well, gorgeous. xx

  The first day of the conference is as jam-packed as I hoped it would be. There are sessions on sustainability and restorative landscape architecture as well as a session on small gardens for urban areas.

  The networking at the meal breaks turns out to be worthwhile and I get the business cards of quite a few landscape architects who are further along in their career than me.

  A few were fascinated that I’m crossing the line from gardener to architect, as many have never taken that path and instead started out straight after completing their degrees.

 
; I could be offended by some of the comments, but I’m not ashamed of where I’ve come from and I think it gives me a unique perspective that those who haven’t felt the climate change in their hands like I have.

  Dinner is with the course lecturer and some of my classmates. It’s a smaller group than I expected, but with us spread all over the country and many are also working along with study, I can understand why this wasn’t something that everyone could make happen.

  It’s nice to talk with people who are still learning and studying after a day of talking with people who have already made a career from this.

  One of the women seems more interested in me on a personal level than on a business one. But for the first time at one of these events, I have zero interest and I politely let her know. I end up spending most of the evening discussing climate with my lecturer, who has 30 years in the field.

  He appreciates that I have more hands-on knowledge than most in our course and we have an interesting chat. I head back to the hotel late and do nothing but shower and set my alarm for the morning.

  I get up early, pack my carry-on and check out of the hotel, before heading to day two of the conference. My duffle bag is small enough that it’s not a real hindrance to keep with me for the day.

  I end up choosing sessions about things I wouldn’t normally gravitate towards and decide that it’s a perfect opportunity to learn. There’s more networking and some catching up with people I met yesterday, but I’m really feeling the pull to get home.

  I’ve never felt this before. It’s not that the conference isn’t brilliant. It is. It’s that there’s a woman who floods my mind any second that I’m not thinking about what’s right in front of me. I absentmindedly rub that woven bracelet I’ve carried in my pocket for the last three days.

  As the conference winds up and we make our way to the taxi rank, I make a spur of the moment decision that gives me a smile I can’t wipe off my face.

  It feels like an eternity before I’m in another cab, post flight, but I give the driver the address and shoot off a text.

  Blake: I’ve missed you, babe. Is that dance card still free for me?

  Sweet Cheeks: It might be? I’m still checking.

  Grr! This woman!

  I’ve missed her too much. That’s why I don’t regret what I’m about to do.

  Not even a little bit.

  TWENTY-NINE

  CATE

  I can’t deny that I’ve fallen for him. It hurt so much to think that I wasn’t enough to be seen with him.

  He tells me that he thought he was protecting me from people who wouldn’t understand what we have. But I’m not even sure I know what that is?

  Is this a fling? Last weekend was our third weekend together. It feels like it’s been months in the making, but in reality, it’s been four weeks. I can say that I’ve never felt anything this strong before.

  This feels different and Lottie may be picking up the pieces for longer than she thought when this has run its course.

  He’s just texted me about this weekend and being free for him. It’s not like there’s anyone else in the running. Even if he wasn’t.

  But I’m hesitating because I’m not sure what this is to him. Am I a booty call? Is this more? Maybe we need to sit and talk about it like grown-ups?

  You’re 32, Cate. Everything you do should be like grown-ups! Worst. Adult. Ever!

  I put my phone down and walk into the kitchen to start making dinner. I have all the ingredients to make lasagne tonight and I’m determined to make it from scratch. It really serves 6, so I’ll cut it up and freeze the extras for another day.

  I put on my cute apron and I’m about to start preparing it when I hear my phone buzzing on the table. It lasts longer than the text buzz so I rush over and answer it just in time.

  “Hello?” I didn’t check who it was in my rush.

  “Hey, sweet cheeks!”

  “Blake? What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

  “Nah. I don’t think anything is wrong. But there’s a package waiting at your door and I thought you might like it.”

  “Oh! No one knocked?” I’m confused. It wasn’t there when I got home. I would have seen a package.

  “Maybe they wanted it to be a surprise?”

  “Wait. How do you know?” I twist the knob and pull the door open as I speak.

  My phone clatters to the ground.

  All six-foot-two-inches of him is standing at my door with a shit-eating grin. “Hey, gorgeous.”

  I stare, open mouthed. “You’re here! Wait. Where’s this package?”

  I grab my phone from where it fell, looking around for a parcel.

  “I’m it, sweet cheeks. The package you’ve been waiting for.” He gestures with his hand down his body, like he’s revealing that he’s the prize on a game show. That underwear-melting grin, from the first night we met, is plastered across his smug face.

  I burst out laughing and grab him by the middle of his t-shirt and drag him inside. He tosses his duffle bag by my entry table and pulls me to him by the waist.

  “Fuck, I missed you.” He whispers into my hair. “I don’t know what this is, but I needed to see you tonight. I just couldn’t wait.” He plants a hot kiss on my lips and when he pulls away he says, “What’s cooking, gorgeous? Have I come in time for dinner?”

  I look down at my apron to where his eyes have strayed and remember that I am about to start cooking dinner. “Yes! In fact, you can be my sous chef! I hope you like lasagne!”

  “Aye, aye! Capt’n. Lead the way!” He salutes and follows me into the kitchen.

  We spend the next 20 minutes preparing the lasagne together. Laughing, dancing to the daggy 90s music I insist on playing and preparing it together. When it’s in the oven cooking, he leads me to the couch.

  “Nu-uh.” I shake my head at him. “If we fall into each other now, we’ll forget about the food and burn the whole building down.”

  “I love that you just complimented my stamina, sweetness!” He winks at me.

  “Your stamina is already well established, Blake!” I whack him on the chest. “I want you to tell me about this conference. Tell me everything.”

  He traces circles on the inside of my thigh as he talks animatedly about what he learned. Who the good people were and who were dicks. He even tells me about the classmate that offered to take him to bed, but he shut her down immediately and spent the night talking to the old male lecturer for hours instead.

  I shouldn’t feel jealous that other women want him, but the monster creeps in.

  He must see it written all over my face because he leans in, scraping his scruff over my jaw and whispers, “She didn’t have a chance, babe. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I carried this with me every day.”

  He pulls the yellow friendship bracelet I wove out of his pocket.

  I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. “Oh! You found it! I was testing out making them for the craft classes. Maybe I can make friendship bracelets a thing again?” I go to take it from him, but he shakes his head.

  “This one’s mine now.” He says, as he kisses my forehead and slips it back into his pocket.

  The buzzer for the oven sounds and I jump up to serve the food. He follows and gets us both water to drink. Usually, I’d have wine, but I want to remember as much of tonight as I can and I get the feeling that I should be hydrated for whatever is coming next.

  I move all my craft stuff to the side and make us enough room to comfortably eat dinner at the table. He tells me more about what he wants to do with what he learned from the course and I tell him all about my week since I saw him last. It’s comfortable and comforting.

  The lasagne is delicious and I can’t help but smile that we made it together.

  “What’s that sly smile for, babe? Are you thinking something dirty?”

  I throw a cloth napkin at him. “No! How rude! I was thinking how sweet it was that we made this lasagne together and it’s the best one
I’ve made.” I roll my eyes at him. “You’re such a perv sometimes!”

  He grins. “Most of the time when it comes to you, gorgeous. You bring it out in me.”

  I roll my eyes again. “Blake! You’re too much!”

  “Never! I’m just the right amount for you and you know it!” He winks and grabs our empty plates and takes them to the kitchen. I hear the water running and I realise that he’s doing the dishes.

  That man!

  I finish my water and follow him into the kitchen. It feels weird to have him here and not be in the same room as him. I grab a tea towel and decide that if my guest is washing, then I best be drying.

  It doesn’t take long to get everything washed, dried and put away. I even pack away the leftovers for the freezer.

  As I’m putting the last of the leftovers in the freezer he steps in close and grabs me gently by the hips. I straighten to standing, closing the freezer door and step back into his space so there’s not an inch between us.

  I can feel his hardness on my bum and I can’t help but wiggle. He’s palming my curvy stomach and groaning in my ear. “Take me to bed sweetness. I’ve needed you too much this week. Don’t torture me anymore.”

  “But I love to torture you just a little bit!” I spin and grab him by the waistband of his jeans and pull him to my bedroom.

  “Strip!”

  “Where did that shy woman I met go?” He chuckles, but follows my demand. Throwing his T-shirt at my face.

  “I don’t really know. Maybe she’s taking a holiday?”

  His jeans come off next, along with his shoes. Boxer briefs are all that remain. “I hope she stays there. I like you bold. But get that dress off. Now!”

  I’m wearing a stretchy cotton pull over dress with cute cap sleeves today. It’s simple and navy, but perfect for this warm weather we’re having. I grab it by the hem and pull it over my head. I wasn’t expecting him, so I’m in my boring cotton bra and boyleg undies tonight.