by Dee Florence
More lace!
I spin us and she closes the door as we switch positions. I pull her close and lean in to her neck to breathe her in. She’s intoxicating.
She may just be the death of me.
I plant a hot kiss on her lips and she kisses me back. She’s a little stunned at first, but she melts into me like she’s needed this. It only makes me want it more.
We lose ourselves in each other for what feels like an eternity, but is probably just a few minutes. I break the kiss.
“Did you wear this to work today, babe? Or have you already changed?” My eyes roam over her again.
“I didn’t go to work today. I took a mental health day. I ended up spending the day crafting with Lottie’s 8-year-old niece. It was actually amazing.”
“Oh, yeah.” I drag her by the hand to her couch and sit. I pull her down to sit next to me, so close that she’s practically on my lap.
I need to feel her skin on mine. But, I think it’d weird her out if I pulled her on to my lap to talk—like I was Santa or something. “Tell me about it. I want to hear.”
She tells me about her day in detail. She is beaming as she speaks. It’s like the sun is shining out of her as she talks about teaching this little kid how to make cards and posters.
I’ve never seen her so lit up before. Her craft table is a mess, but I don’t care in the slightest, because she’s so happy.
“That’s so good, babe! I told you that you had the talent.”
“Maya tells me that she wants to do it again but bring her friends next time. She got me thinking, maybe that could be something I could do? I don’t know if I could though.”
“You definitely could, gorgeous. I bet there’d be parents lining up to have you teach their minis how to make things like this. You should get a notebook and write out all your ideas on how you’d want a day like that to run. I mean it. Write it down and see what comes out.”
“Yeah.” She nods. “I could do that. I don’t really know how it would work practically, but I could play with the idea.”
“Yes! Do it! I would love to hear those ideas when you have them down. Maybe I can help find you a place to run a trial day?”
“Yeah, maybe.” She nods then shrugs. “Let me write them first. I don’t want to go too fast.”
I want to push her. Tell her how this could be her way out from her miserable job. But I can see she’s getting nervous, so I drop it for now. We can revisit that later.
I’m sure I know someone through my own contacts or though Ella’s that can help me with a location. I can help her with this. I tuck it in the back of my mind to think about later.
Selfishly, I change the subject by pulling her onto my lap so she’s straddling me and I let my hands roam her body whilst we make out. She leans into my touches and she’s got her arms wrapped around my neck and her fingers are playing with my hair.
I didn’t actually come here for this, but I can’t help it when I’m around her.
I pull away from the kiss, before I take her on her couch. “I love this, babe. But this isn’t why I came here.” Cate just raises an eyebrow at me, questioningly. “Go get dressed in something cute so I can take you out to dinner.”
I drop my hands to her arse and squeeze it before giving it a playful smack. She climbs off me slowly, letting me get a face full of her tits before she skips to the bedroom.
“What kind of dinner is it? What should I wear?” She calls from her bedroom. “Do you want to come in here and help me choose?” She’s become so much bolder in these two weeks. I love to see it.
“No. We’ll never make the reservation if I see you in your undies by that bed. All your dresses are hot. Pick one.”
She walks out 10 minutes later in another cotton dress that is fitted around the bust with buttons, but flares out at the waist. It’s blue with a paper aeroplane pattern and has a collar and a belt. She’s paired it with high heel wedge sandals and has thrown her hair up in a messy bun.
She looks stunning.
“Is this okay? You didn’t give a girl much notice!”
I signal with my finger for her to do a twirl. She spins for me, letting the skirt fly up a little as she completes the twirl.
“You look fantastic.”
She blushes and busies herself packing a small bag from a bigger one.
I gravitate towards her. Wrapping her in my arms. I can’t help myself. She’s 5cm taller in these shoes, so I don’t have to lean down as far to breathe her in at her neck. Fresh perfume. It’s something floral but not overpowering.
I brush my scruff across her jaw lean in to her ear and growl, “We need to leave now or I’ll have to take that dress off you and this outfit deserves and audience.”
She squeaks and rushes to the door, looking back over her shoulder at me in a way that screams ‘catch me if you can’. I close the door behind me and follow her out. She giggles as she walks on ahead, swaying her hips.
I’m so fucked.
Dinner is at a cosy Italian restaurant. I didn’t totally think it through because it’s mid-week and I only thought to make the reservation at lunch time. I’m usually not a carbs guy, but I know that Cate loves them and when you’re having a rough week, comfort food is the second-best cure.
Sex is first, obviously. But I didn’t want this to look like a booty call and not me trying to brighten her week.
She’s reading the menu and biting her lip every time she spots something new that looks good. This is the best Italian in the city, but I don’t think she’s ever been here.
I’m being a creeper watching her choose rather than looking at my own menu, but I like any of the pasta dishes here, so I’ll decide when the waiter arrives.
“There’s so much to choose from.” She looks up at me, wide eyed, over the menu. “I’ve never been here before. I’m not sure what to get.”
“Close the menu and tell me, what’s your favourite Italian dish?”
“Um...” She closes the menu and bites that lip again. “Spaghetti bolognese, usually.”
“Then you should get that. This is best place for pasta, so you should try your favourite and see if they make it better than anywhere else.”
She cocks her head to the side with an amused look on her face. She’s thinking about it.
“Okay. I’ll blame you if it’s not good though.” She pokes her tongue out at me playfully.
“You definitely can do that. Tonight’s my treat. You’ve had a rough start to the week and I wanted to make it better.” I take her menu from her and catch the eye of the waiter. “Is this helping?”
She nods. “Today has been wonderful. Best Mental Health Day ever! But you don’t have to pay.”
“I’m paying. It’s my turn.” She concedes without much fight this time. I bet she’s planning to insist on paying wherever we go next.
Let’s face it, we both know there’ll be a next time.
The waiter comes over and takes our orders. She orders a Pinot Noir with her meal and I choose a beer. She tells me about her favourite wine and more about her ‘craft adventures’, as she calls them.
I tell her about work and Matt and Ella and study. We fall into a good rhythm. Our food arrives and we only pause our conversation to eat.
“This is amazing. Thank you for bringing me here!”
“Was it a good choice?”
“Yes!” She groans at the taste. “So good!”
I’m thankful for the kitschy gingham tablecloth covering the chub in my pants, that her noises just caused. I clear my throat and can’t help but grin. My meal is good, too. But I’m really here for her.
When we finish up and I pay the bill, we walk out hand in hand. It’s way more ‘coupley’ than it should be, but I can’t seem to pull away.
“Can I get you ice cream for dessert, babe?”
“Oh, no! I’m too full from that delicious pasta. It was soooo good.”
“Let me take you home then?” She nods and leans into my arm, where we are h
olding hands.
The idea is to see her to her door, and stay a gentleman for the night, and see myself home. But she opens her door and grabs me by the wrist and pulls me inside, closing the door behind me.
She backs me towards the door with a mischievous look in her eye. My back butts up against it. My head hits it with a soft thunk. She’s biting her lip as she grabs my hips and starts to fall to her knees.
Quick as a flash, I catch her by her underarms. “Not tonight, gorgeous. Tonight is about you.” I shake my head. She pouts.
I move my hands to her delectable hips and spin us so she’s the one against the door. She giggles as I give her hips a squeeze and drop to my knees.
“I’ve needed to know what was under this dress since you did that twirl for me, earlier.” She giggles again as I flick the skirt up and let it land on my head.
I groan loudly as I see her purple lace undies. I kiss her mound over the fabric. I nudge her feet apart and play with my woman. I nip at the fabric and use it as friction to get her worked up. Then I yank it down so it’s around her ankles.
It’s such a dirty sight, ankles with scrunched up lace around them. I can’t see her face because I’m under the skirt but I can her whimpering for me. I use my tongue and my fingers and she has her hands on my head over the fabric.
I chuckle because the shy woman I met two weeks ago is now directing traffic and getting what she needs. It only makes me hotter for her.
I lift one leg so it’s over my shoulder and go to town until she’s screaming, “Don’t stop, Blake. Right there. Don’t stop!”
She climaxes with such intensity that I have to hold her up against the door. She was so loud, I think the whole building might have heard.
Sorry, not sorry, neighbours!
I pull my head out from under the skirt and see that she’s so blissed out that she’s got her eyes closed. “Let’s get you to bed, sweet cheeks! You’ve had a big day.” I carry her to her bed and lay her on the covers.
She’s half awake and smiling up at me. I find her some pyjamas in a drawer and slide the sleep shorts up her legs after removing her shoes.
As I undo her dress buttons and help her out of it, she grabs my arms and asks, “Stay with me?”
I unclasp her bra and it takes all my strength not to kiss those mounds before climbing into bed with her. Instead I pull on her matching pyjama top and help her wiggle under the sheets.
I kiss her forehead. “Not tonight, beautiful. I’m trying to be the good guy. Do you need me to set your alarm?” She’s already rolled away and has started to snore softly. I set an alarm for 6am and hope it’s okay. “Sleep well, gorgeous.”
I tidy up on my way out and switch the lights off as I go. I smile at her messy craft table and think about how excited she was after making a kid happy through craft.
I have to help her test that idea. I’m not sure how yet, but I just do.
I lock her door as I head out and switch off the last light as I leave. I pull the door tight and check that it’s locked before making my way home.
I’m catching feelings and this is not good.
But I can’t walk away yet.
After Matt’s birthday, maybe? But not now.
TWENTY-FIVE
CATE
After waking to an empty left side of the bed, and an alarm I didn’t set for myself on Thursday, the rest of the week went by in a blur.
Work was stupidly busy and they were cranky about my day off and my apparent lack of ‘loyalty’ by taking a day I was entitled to. But I was buoyed by my day with Maya and it was like a shield that made things more bearable.
Every time things felt like they were getting too much, I’d let myself daydream that craft classes for kids could be my full-time job and I could tell my job to ‘kiss my ass’, as the Americans say. It’s just a fantasy right now, but it makes me want to see if I could make it work.
It’s Saturday morning and I’ve been planning exactly how it could work and what the space would look like, for over 2 hours. It’s like Maya lit a fire under me and I can’t stop working on it.
Maybe it will go nowhere. But I love this feeling of hope and possibility.
My phone buzzes with a text. It’s The Man. That’s how Blake is still listed in my phone. It’s silly, but it makes me smile when it pops up on my screen.
We’ve texted a few times since Wednesday night, but we haven’t made plans to see each other again. I’m not sure where this is going, but for now I’m willing to see where it leads.
I promised Lottie, after all.
The Man: Hey, are you up yet?
Cate: Yes! I’ve been up for 2.5 hours! What are you implying?
The Man: I’m implying that you like to sleep in on your days off.
Cate: Rude! I’m even showered and dressed. I’ve had breakfast and everything!
The Man: Good, because we’re going on a mission and I need you to have shoes on and be ready to leave in 10 minutes. Are you that level of ready, gorgeous?
Cate: I can be. Are you meeting me here?
The Man: Yes. Stop texting and go finish getting ready.
The Man: The clock is ticking.
I dart up from my craft chair and run to the bathroom to put my makeup on, brush my teeth and do my hair.
Argh! 10 man minutes is not enough time. I prefer ten Lottie minutes, which is more like 30 or 45.
There’s a knock at my door as I’m unplugging my straightener. I just need shoes and to grab my cross-body bag—which is thankfully already packed because I was going to wander around the craft supplies shop later.
“Ready!” I shout as I slide my feet into my cork slides and grab my bag, phone and keys.
I pull open the door and Blake is smiling back at me. “You are actually ready! Good job, sweet cheeks. I thought for sure, you’d have me waiting on your couch.”
I pout at him and shoo him with my hands, so I can lock and close the door behind us.
“I reject your lazy-girl assumptions of me. I have been very productive this morning, thank you very much!” I poke my tongue out at him.
He grabs me by the waist and pulls me to him. “I stand corrected. I won’t make that mistake again.” He gives me a peck on the lips and a slap on my bum and says, “Let’s go, gorgeous! We have places to be!”
He helps me into the passenger seat of his ute and rounds the hood to get in himself. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see!” He just grins and starts the car. I play with the car stereo whilst he drives, and though we don’t say much, it’s a comfortable silence.
We pull up to a garden centre and he jumps out and insists on helping me out of his neat, but grubby car. It’s clearly a work vehicle and though the inside is immaculate, the outside is dirty from the kind of work he does.
I’d bet good money he used to wash it daily, before finally letting that go, when he realised it was futile.
“Er, what are we doing here? I’m not the person you should ask for gardening advice. You can ask yourself that.” I look at him perplexed.
Has he mixed me up with someone else?
He laughs. “I’m not asking your advice, I’m helping you choose plants for your place and I didn’t want to surprise you with anything you don’t like.”
“Oh!” Well, that’s very sweet and super unexpected. “Er, thank you?”
“Don’t thank me yet, babe. We haven’t even started looking.” He grabs me by the hand and pulls me along, “Let’s go!”
He leads me through the garden centre. I’m overwhelmed with the scents and the varieties that are on display. Even knowing nothing about plants, I can appreciate the pretty colours and shapes.
We finally stop at the succulents. These I recognise from how popular they are on the m’gram.
“These are great beginner plants.” He explains, “They don’t need much love to thrive and you can just leave them on your balcony. Usually, the less you water them, the better.”
“Okay...That
seems reasonable. Maybe I could handle that?”
I could keep a plant alive, right? Stranger things have happened.
“You definitely can and I’ll teach you all my tricks and tips.” He winks and smiles. This is where he shines. This place is making him happy. “Now you just need to choose some you like the look of.”
We walk around for a bit and I point at different options. He tells me facts about each of them. I mostly go by colour and shape, but he doesn’t mind. He’s excited to share this with me and it gives him a boyish charm that I can’t help but adore.
In the end, I pick five that I like and he grabs a trolley to load them up. He gets me to push the trolley to the check out, whilst he holds the side and talks animatedly about how he’s going to turn me into a good plant parent.
I’m paraphrasing, of course. He’d never say, ‘plant parent’ out loud. I just laugh at how he has this all planned for me.
Then, suddenly, he freezes like he’s seen a ghost. There’s a very tall guy walking towards us. He waves at Blake. His eyes are flicking between Blake and me. Clearly confused. I stop smiling.
“Blake! Mate, what are you doing here? Are you working an extra job today?” The tall man ignores me.
“Nah. No job. Just buying some succulents for a friend that’s new to gardening.” Blake nods towards me, but the word friend sounds weird. In fact, the whole statement sounds forced. It’s like he wishes that I wasn’t there. He’s gone frosty and I’m not sure what I did wrong.
What did you do, Cate? Have you missed something?
The tall man looks at me and cocks his head as though he can’t quite believe what he’s looking at. I suddenly don’t want to be here. I just want to go home and be far away from both of them and whatever silent conversation they are having.
“Right, right.” The tall man eventually says. “Better leave you to it. See you at work on Monday? Or are you coming out with us tonight?”
“Not tonight, mate. Plans already.” Blake shrugs.
Not with me you don’t, mister!
“Alrighty then. Have a good weekend.” He tips his baseball cap at me in parting, shakes his head— like he still can’t believe that Blake would be standing with someone like me—and heads into the garden centre.
