by Sofia Aves
I groaned internally. Tomorrow was my date with Cal, and we hadn’t set a time yet. Plus, I didn’t want to arrive covered in paint. But, work was work…and I’d agreed to do this, so I couldn’t just back out.
I nodded, suddenly weary as I packed my things, hoisting my satchel over my shoulder for the walk home.
“Sure, Mrs. Schmidt. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Oh, good!” The frazzled little woman perked up, collected her guinea pig, escorting me to the front door. “My nephew will be here then. You should meet him; he’s a lovely boy…”
I left her talking about her family member and hoped the boy wouldn’t make a mess of my paints or Dolly’s portrait while I wasn’t there to protect it.
I loved the walk home — it was hilly, and I was puffing by the halfway mark. The exercise was great, especially after spending the previous day parked on a stool. Plus, it cleared my head to get outside, after hours of working on the coat of a champion hamster. Excuse me, guinea pig. Not that I minded, but it was mind-numbing stuff. I needed a challenge.
Cal’s face drifted across my mind. That jawline, the strength in his neck…relaxed on the outside; I could see the rage that boiled beneath. Something was eating him from the inside, but when he had been with me, that rage had dissipated somewhat, softened.
Thinking had slowed my pace, and I became more aware of my surroundings, noting something had changed. It took a moment to work it out — a steady drone just behind me. The hairs on my neck rose, alarm triggering a small adrenaline rush. As I approached my corner, I turned, just enough to see over my shoulder.
A black car travelled slowly along the road in my peripheral vision. When I turned, it pulled away, speeding up. I jumped back as it swerved, as though out of control. Idiots, I growled in my mind, thinking of the car accident that had stolen my parents away so many years ago.
I turned the corner and headed for home, hoping Cal would message me soon, wondering if it would be presumptuous for me to message him, first. I was so out of touch with the dating scene.
In the end, I found messaging Cal too daunting. I’d look at the tiny screen, wondering what to say. Giving it up as a bad job, I cleaned. I was plating my microwave dinner — what was the point of cooking something fancy when you were only feeding yourself? — when my phone vibrated across the counter. I grabbed for it with one hand, the other catching soggy mushrooms that escaped off the sides of my plate.
Cal: How was your day? I’m glad my RDO’s are coming up.
Me: I painted a hamster.
Cal: …
Cal: ...
Me: Well, technically a guinea pig.
Cal: Really? Still on for tomorrow?
Me: Please
I followed it up with a smiley face.
Cal: You want to do breakfast?
My heart plummeted. Breakfast was my favourite meal — sometimes my only meal. I actually stopped, ate food, enjoyed coffee. Or tea, I wasn’t picky.
Me: I’d love to, but I’ll be painting…
Cal: The hamster again?
Me: Yep.
Cal: Can I pick you up in the afternoon? Dress casual.
I sent him my address and finished making my dinner. I wanted to read, but the lines blurred. Everywhere I looked, red hairs streaked my vision. Bloody guinea pig had given me retina burn. I put music on instead, sorting my bag for tomorrow. More Dolly. The sky was only just darkening when I fell into bed.
Dolly refused to sit still. It appeared her stasis of yesterday had been replaced with a possessed guinea pig, rampaging from shadow to shadow. I sighed, dragging up a photo I’d taken of her in yesterday’s natural light, saving it to my lock screen so I could keep working until she decided to stop.
My fingers curled around my teacup. I knew straight away it was ice cold. I sighed and sipped it anyway. It had lost some of its aromatics with the heat, but it was still therapeutic.
“Oh, dear, I’ve let that get cold on you. Let me freshen you up!”
Mrs. Schmidt bustled off with my cup. I mumbled my thanks, studying the photo I’d taken earlier to compare Dolly’s fur to where she zoomed in the shadows, chasing dust bunnies. My head was beginning to ache. Browns and russet tones fanned out around me, various mixes numbered from yesterday.
My cup was replaced, warmth radiating from its spot next to my easel on a small side table.
“Thank you,” I murmured, adding a fine stripe of grey around Dolly’s muzzle.
“You’re welcome.”
It was a deep voice that answered, and I cricked my neck, looking over my shoulder. A pair of black jeans stood behind me. Definitely not Mrs. Schmidt. I looked up, and up. Deep brown eyes stared back, twinkling. I gaped. This was her nephew? I flew from my seat so fast Dolly nearly became an albino.
“Cal!”
I was hugging him before any rational thought crossed my mind, arms wrapped around his neck. I was surprised by how much I’d missed him. His arms tightened around me, light stubble brushing my cheek as he drew back. His eyes found mine again, dark and intense. A spike of electricity shot through me. He lowered his head, breath hot against my skin, adding to the heat that rushed over me. My tongue wetted the edge of my lips as I pressed into him.
“Oh, Cal, thank you for taking that out to Mila. Now– oh, I see you have met our resident artist?”
Cal’s arms loosened. I slid down and away from him, flustered. I couldn’t look at Mrs. Schmidt, so I stared at the hamster instead. Dolly sat still.
Probably worn out from all that racing around, I thought snidely.
“Mila had dinner with me earlier this week,” Cal addressed his Aunt.
Mrs. Schmidt flashed me an unreadable look, collecting my teacup from beside my easel where Cal had placed it. She shooed us out onto the veranda, which overlooked the city.
“Well, off you go, then. Here’s your tea, Cal. And yours, Mila. Enjoy the fresh air!”
She bustled us out the door, closing it loudly behind us. I looked at Cal with raised eyebrows.
“What was that all about?” I noticed bruising around his eye. “And what happened to you?”
Cal grimaced, trying to cover it by sipping his tea.
“Sparring with a mate. Don’t worry about Aunt Lily; she means kindly. She’s been trying to get me to socialise more, since…” he trailed off, looking out at the city. The view truly was magnificent. A muscle clenched in his jaw, but he said nothing more and continued to drink his tea in silence. He shook his head. “She doesn’t always approve of my choices.”
A grin that could have been a grimace slid over his face, eyes piercing. I swallowed, wondering if he meant me, or the ex. A shadow passed over his face. I tried to decipher it, but he looked away.
Following his gaze, I traced the streets with my eyes, from the bottom of the hill to the promenade, where he’d kissed me.
The memory of his arms around me only moments ago flooded back. My face heated, and I turned to him, almost shouting apologies. Cal waved them away.
“It’s fine. She won’t think less of you, especially since you’re painting Dolly.”
That hit a chord with me, and I slapped him lightly on the arm.
“When did you know?”
“That I’d see you today? As soon as you mentioned painting the hamster. Who else would commission a portrait of a guinea pig?” He swivelled to view Dolly in all her splendour on canvas, the life model curled on her side beneath it, peddling madly in her sleep. “You’ve done a remarkable job. The silly thing usually won’t sit still.”
“She’s been darting about all morning,” I confessed. “Though she slept through yesterday’s session.”
“Cheeky thing,” he murmured, liberating my unfinished tea. Protests were half-formed on my lips when he stepped into me. Slipping his arm around my waist, he pulled me against him. The honeyed scent that was all-male filled my senses. I swayed, tilting my head back as I rose onto my toes, stretching up to him. My fingers curled into the material of
his shirt, tugging him closer.
His mouth came down hard on mine, sending every inch of me tingling. I gasped softly and his tongue swept inside my mouth, tasting, thrusting. Then suddenly, he slowed the pace, kissing me deeply, but sweetly. I melted against him, his arms winding around me until he was my entire world.
His fingers dragged through my hair, rubbing in tiny circles against my scalp. I moaned against his lips, feeling his response, a deeper growl, rumble inside his chest. He turned, pressing me against the railing, one hand trailing down my back, hesitating at the top of my jeans.
I arched into him, unknotting my hands from his shirt, reaching up to link them behind his neck. He took it as a signal, his hand leaving my back to slide lower, over my ass and he pulled me into him, groaning into my mouth.
“Be glad we’re not at my place right now, sweetheart.” His voice was rough with desire. Bolts of anticipation tore through me.
“Why would I be glad?” I whispered against his lips, my heart in my mouth. I’d never been so forward in my life. Cal groaned again, slowing the pace. His fingers delved beneath my shirt, palms flat against my skin.
Finally, he drew back, looking down with such an intense stare, it sent tingles all over me. I swallowed, not trusting myself to say anything yet.
His fingers traced the corner of my jaw, across my lips, stroking lightly. My eyes closed, he kissed me again, barely touching his lips to mine. The slightest brush of his mouth sent shivers across my skin. I breathed him in, the spiced honeyed scent that was all him.
“Cal, we should…” I whispered, finally remembering where we were.
“Don’t worry about her,” he murmured, dragging his mouth across my jaw, down the sensitive part of my throat.
I wanted to close my eyes, to let him, but I couldn’t.
“Not here, Cal. Please.” My lips moved against the stubble on his chin. He drew back, studying me, and nodded.
“Okay.”
He slid his hands down my sides, larger, rough hands catching mine. He drew one up for a quick, hard kiss on my knuckles, then let it go, still clasping my other hand in his. Cal drew me back through the glass doors, Aunt Lily nowhere in sight. I packed quickly, hoping she wouldn’t mind I hadn’t quite finished Dolly yet and did a quick clean up.
“Need a ride?”
I nodded. I’d walked like the day before.
Cal led me back to the front door, calling downstairs that we were leaving. A faint call came back, which I took to be okay, as Cal led me out to his white Ford Ute. The thing was enormous. While he stowed my bag in the back, I clambered up, hoisting myself into the passenger seat.
Relieved I was wearing jeans; I tackled the seatbelt. Cal slid into the driver’s seat, then turned to me, draping his arm across the back of my seat. Wherever he touched me, my skin reacted, aching, until every inch of me was hyper-responsive, tuned to him. His eyes dropped to my lips, and he leaned forward, then closed his eyes, breathing in hard.
“Do you want me to take you home, get you cleaned up? Or can I take you out for the lunch I’d planned.”
I looked down, surprised to find myself quite clean and presentable. Without a mirror, I couldn’t check the rest of me, but I hoped I looked okay. I had a feeling the moment he walked into my house we’d end up in the bedroom — if we even made it that far.
“Lunch sounds great.”
I needn’t have worried how I looked — I’d forgotten Cal had said to dress casually for our date this afternoon. He squeezed my shoulder, then withdrew his arm. My skin cooled quickly, and I missed the warmth of his touch.
We drove in silence for a few moments. It grew awkward, but my conversational skills had abandoned me.
“Do you have any other clients at the moment?” Cal asked, tapping the steering wheel, looking as nervous as I felt. I smiled, appreciating his attempt to keep things smooth.
“No, only the ones you already know about. I finished up a family portrait earlier. So I have time to play around at home with new ideas, projects I want to try.” I looked sideways at him. “The portraits keep me social. Otherwise, I’d never leave the house.”
“Being out makes you that uncomfortable?” Cal’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening. Shadows brushed across his face and were gone. I shook my head.
“No, I–” my mouth dried as I thought about the bank, how to explain it. “I’m just not good with people, sometimes. At all,” I mumbled the last part, studying my hands that twisted and turned on each other.
Cal’s hand squeezed mine quickly, and he flashed me a smile that lit up his entire face. I returned his smile, my mood lifting easily. His brightness was contagious, bringing me back to myself so fluidly.
“You do just fine, from what I’ve seen.”
“You’re pretty comfortable to be around.” The words slipped out, and I was surprised to find they were true.
“Everyone has something they struggle with, something they can’t get around. Obsessions,” he murmured, staring at something I couldn't see.
He parked behind a wide, old shed. I slipped down from the cab, Cal’s hands around my waist before my feet hit the ground. He closed the door and squeezed my hip gently, my shirt riding up a little as he pressed me back against the truck. Then his mouth was on mine again.
Sometime later, I came back to myself. Cal alternated light kisses against my lips with gentle nips along my jaw. I fought the desire to moan aloud, both conscious of our public display, and needing him in my bed in the same instant.
CHAPTER SEVEN
MILA
Sea breeze hit me in the face, welcome and relaxing. I had always loved the smell of salt in the air. It reminded me of summer and Christmas. The waiter placed a seafood platter between us — share dishes were quickly becoming our thing.
Salt and pepper-crusted mud-crab took up half the plate. I studied a selection of tools for dismantling the shell that lined the tray, looking for all the world like a surgeon's instruments. Crab was something I could flick across a room with ease, a talent many years in the making. I winced at memories of redecorating my family dining table with crab and shell and quickly filed the painful thoughts aside. Prawns surrounded it, garlic grilled scallops in their shells piled in one corner. The platter was tastefully done — not overloaded, and the patterns appealed to my OCD.
I studied the small patio that hung over the water. It was clean and sparse, nothing fancy, though it suited the atmosphere of the marina. Cal leaned back in his chair; his white, linen shirt stretched over relaxed shoulders. He was comfortable here, I realised, his face clear of the lines that so often gave him such an intense look. I was glad to see the shadows that had obscured his face were absent, for now. Whatever caused them, I was determined to keep at bay for as long as I could.
A glass of white wine I hadn’t ordered was placed in front of me. I raised my hand in protest, but Cal smiled at me, and I relented, nodding my thanks. The waiter patted him on the shoulder, passing him a schooner of beer. I’d always loved the honeyed colours of the ales but couldn’t stand the taste.
“Thanks,” I murmured, taking a sip from my glass. I eyed the waiter speculatively. “He doesn’t usually look after everyone this well, right?” I looked back inside the Fish Co-Op where utilitarian-glassed counters were laden with fish on ice.
Cal grinned.
“Nah, I’ve been coming here for years. Dad and I used to fish off the rocks…”
The shadows were back. I tried to think of something to say.
“You love the ocean?” It was a poor offering, but when Cal’s eyes connected with mine, I knew he appreciated the gesture.
“Yeah. Boating, swimming…anything to do with it. I love being out there, nothing around but open sea. No land, nothing.”
“I’ve never been out that far.”
Cal shot me an amused look.
“Maybe we can fix that, then. Next time.”
My heart flip-flopped in my chest. It was all so ne
w, and I hadn’t done this in…well, forever. I’d been alone for so long I’d forgotten how it all worked.
“Next time,” I echoed.
I watched him shell some of the prawns, then move on to the crab. I snavelled a scallop from the corner of the platter closest to me. Those tanned forearms still got me — sleeves rolled to expose hard, toned muscle. Either he worked out, or worked outside — I didn’t care much which one it was.
He deftly flicked crab into a neat pile onto a small plate and passed it to me. I took it, surprised, but relieved not to have to display my enthusiastic crab deconstruction skills.
“So, what sort of things are you working on right now?” I paused, unsure. “Wait, am I allowed to ask that? I have no idea how this works,” I apologised, flustered. How was I supposed to be dating a man like this when I couldn’t even hold a basic conversation with him? I wanted to run and hide, but his smile was open and genuine, relaxing me.
“It’s fine. I wouldn’t expect you to know what to ask, not yet.” His eyes were dark as he talked, something in them not quite matching his words. I smiled cautiously as he continued. “I’ve been working on the same case for years now, a few others in between, like when I first met you. But always linking back to this one…all bank robberies, or supposed to be, if I don’t get them first. I never fail.”
It wasn’t said with arrogance, just a statement of fact. Cal was good at his job, and he knew it. But his words sent me spiralling back, to carpet patterned with shadows and light from outside, Ashley years younger, prancing about. It had taken her a long time to work through what she’d witnessed, try to deal with abandonment.
As far as I knew, her father had never come back to claim her. She had a new family, now, and I enjoyed the few days a month I saw her. I knew it was something Cal would understand, this being his job, but I couldn’t bring myself to talk about it.
“Mila. Hey, are you okay?”
His words returned me to him, the salty air reminding me where I was. I pushed the bank firmly away and sat mute for a moment, collecting myself.
