by Dee Florence
We’re next in line, so Blake handles the transaction and takes over the trolley to push it to the ute. I climb in silently, fasten my seatbelt and wait for him to return from the trolley bay.
“All right!” He taps the dashboard like a drum, “Let’s get you home and get these set up. I can’t wait to show you how to care for these babies!”
He’s talking like the last 5 minutes never happened. I was confused, but it’s now growing from hurt to anger.
I say nothing the whole drive home. I just keep my hands in my lap and my head facing out the window. When we pull up to my apartment, I practically fly out of the car and try to get into my apartment as fast as I can.
I’m seething now and—of course—I trip on my way up the stairs. Blake is somehow only two steps behind me and scoops me up in his free arm and plants me back on my feet.
“You okay, babe? You’ve gone quiet.”
I scowl at him, brush off my knees and stomp up the stairs. He is stupidly strong and has all five plants in a box that he’s carrying on one forearm.
Bloody, show off!
I unlock the door but don’t hold it open for him. I just toss my bag on the ground and stare daggers at him whilst he walks past me to the balcony door and carefully puts the plants down.
He looks up at me from squatting next to the box of plants and smirks. “You look a little grumpy, sweet cheeks, you need some food or something?”
I harrumph at him. “Are you for real?” I’m totally raising my voice. “Did you not just pretend to your friend that I’m a mere acquaintance, that you are helping to start a garden?”
“Babe—”
“Don’t you ‘babe’ me! Am I that terrible that you can’t bear to be seen with me in public, when people you know are around? Am I that awful looking that when people you know see us together they are utterly perplexed? What the fuck is this Blake?” I am properly fuming now.
“Cate! No! That’s not it.” He stands and shakes his head, “None of that. Let me explain…”
I raise my eyebrows in a way that tells him to keep talking. My arms are crossed and my foot is tapping.
“This...” He waves his fingers between us, “Is between us and I didn’t want him to ruin it. He wouldn’t get it. It’s not about you, I promise.”
“I don’t believe you. I think it’s time for you to leave.”
“What? No! I haven’t even set up your plants yet.” He looks confused and almost as hurt as I feel.
“Fine. Then set them up and let yourself out.” I toss him the keys to the sliding balcony door. “I’m going to have a shower. Be gone before I’m done.”
TWENTY-SIX
CATE
I storm into my small bedroom and slam the door. Or it would slam if the window was open.
Instead it loses momentum due to the air pressure and I have to stomp over to it and push it the rest of the way shut after it bounces back. I huff at it and stomp my way into the bathroom.
I’m so worked up that I hit my elbow on the bathroom wall as I’m trying to take my clothes off. That just increases my cranky mood. I turn on the taps so I get that super-hot water feeling I’m looking for, even though it’s November and it’s starting to get too warm for really hot showers.
I step into the steamy shower and I can’t help but think of his stupid, adorable, pouty face as I was yelling at him. He’s too hot for words and it’s for the best that this is—probably—the end. It would never work between us. We’re just too different.
I hear a door shut. That must be him leaving.
Good!
I let my thoughts drift to the last time we were together. Since he’s gone for good I can use those memories to help me get what I need. As angry as I was at him, watching him treat those plants with so much care and attention made me want him more.
I need to get rid of this tension before I explode somewhere like the craft supplies shop. I grab my waterproof clit stimulator from the shower shelf and set it to the highest setting. I line it up and let it work its magic.
I’m so ready that it only takes seconds to send a tingle to my toes. I groan. This was worth every cent I paid for it. I’m already getting there and I’m moaning. It’s not pretty, but I’m alone and no one can hear me.
I think I hear a noise behind me but I must be imagining things. My eyes are closed, so I wouldn’t see it anyway.
I’m so close. I’m muttering incoherently. It’s bliss. Not Blake-level bliss, but it getting the job done.
“That’s it babe, come for me.”
My eyes fly open as I start to climax.
What. The. Fuck?
Blake is standing in my bathroom with his hand palming his cock, over his clothes. I’m too far gone to do anything but finish. His eyes are wide like he’s mesmerised by the sight. I have to grab the shower wall as my knees buckle.
He leans in, clothes and all and steadies me against him.
“W-what are you doing here? I thought you left.” I say as my power of speech returns and I return my friend to the shower shelf. I could try to blame my blush on the hot water, but we both know that’s not it.
“I couldn’t leave without making sure you weren’t mad at me. Then I heard you and I thought you were hurt so I came to investigate. But you weren’t.” He shakes his head. “Instead, you were doing the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t look away. Geez, you’re stunning.”
He turns off the shower and grabs my towel to wrap me up like I’m something precious. He insists on drying me off. Then he pulls off his soaked t-shirt, tan shorts and boxer briefs. He wrings them all out in the sink and hangs them to dry.
Even in an argument, he’s too neat for words!
“I’m not mad anymore. I just don’t think we work.” I shrug.
“Don’t say that! Look at how far we’ve come in just over two weeks. I’ve never been like this with anyone.” He places his forehead on mine and looks into my eyes. “I don’t know how to do this Cate. How do I make you see that this is different for me?”
“I don’t want to be your secret, Blake. I’m no one’s dirty secret.” I pull away, shake my head and walk towards the bedroom.
He follows.
“You’re not. I promise.” He pauses, thinking.
He shakes his head like he’s dismissing an idea and then pulls a face that suggests that he’s warring with himself over it.
“Come with me to Matt’s birthday weekend! Come away with me and you can meet my best friend properly. That was him today. It’s in two weeks’ time. Meet the whole crew.”
“I don’t know. That sounds like a recipe for disaster. Aren’t they big partiers? I’m not a big partier.”
I search my wardrobe for something different to wear. I don’t feel like putting this morning’s clothes back on. Just looking at them makes me feel grumpy.
“Nah. It’ll be good. It’s at a big country house that he’s rented for the weekend. We’ll have a big room to ourselves, and when it gets too much, we’ll sneak off and have time for just you and I.”
“I’m still not convinced, but I’m not saying no. Maybe, pencil me in?” I shoot him a death stare. “But never again with your bullshit from today or we’re parting ways. I’m not here to get hurt Blake. I don’t know what this is, but getting hurt isn’t part of our deal. Okay?”
“YES!” He fist-pumps his elation, then grabs me by the waist and spins me. “You’re right. Getting hurt is off the table. Fun and good things only for us. Now let me make this good for you.”
He nuzzles my neck and then tosses me on the bed, so my towel falls open. I can’t help but giggle. He growls and crawls up my body to cage me in.
He leans in for a deep kiss and we explore each other for the rest of the afternoon.
It’s not that its’s all is so easily forgiven, it’s that I’m letting myself take a chance.
Please don’t let him break my heart.
TWENTY-SEVEN
BLAKE
It’s Sund
ay morning and I spent yesterday afternoon and evening making it up to her.
I didn’t mean to treat her like shit in the garden centre. Matt just caught me off guard and I froze.
Fuck! I made such a mess of things.
Honestly, she’s still upset with me and she probably has every right. I’m not sure multiple orgasms can fix her feeling like I’m ashamed to be around someone who looks like her.
I mean, I gave it everything trying to bliss her into oblivion—and I don’t think anyone else has ever done that to her before—but the idea that I might be ashamed of her looks is just absurd.
She’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen!
She’s curled up sleeping beside me right now and I can’t help but stare at her. I told her about Matt’s party and there’s a chance she’ll come if I don’t fuck this up again. It was never that I was ashamed of her, it’s that I don’t do this.
I’m the ‘one-and-done’ guy. I don’t ever go back for seconds and I certainly don’t hang out and go on dates. Blake Thompson is not that guy.
Anyone will tell you that.
Matt is a good guy most of the time. I mean, he’s my best friend. He may be nearly 30, but he lives as if he’s 21 forever. I was worried that he’d tell her all the ways that I’m wrong for her, or he’d simply scare her away.
He’d assume that this was a joke and that she was cool with being the butt of it. There’s no way I could let that happen to her.
No one hurts my woman.
Except me, apparently.
I can’t help but wipe a stray wisp of hair from her neck. Instead of her leaning into my hand, she grumbles in her sleep and pulls away.
Still a bit cranky, then.
I’m not going to push it in case she kicks me out again, so I get up and decide to make myself useful. I notice that her clothes basket is full. The neat guy in me decides that I’ll do her laundry and tidy up whilst she rests.
Even if she kicks me out for this later, she’ll have my neatness making things easier.
I find the washing machine in the bathroom. It has a dryer stacked on top, but it’s warm enough today that things will line dry quickly.
I separate her clothes out into piles, reading the washing instructions so I don’t ruin any of her pretty dresses. All are, surprisingly, machine washable.
So, I create a delicate load and thank the universe that I grew up with a sister who was very vocal on the correct ways to wash women’s clothes.
Once I’ve got that started, I check on my sleeping beauty. She’s star-fished out, face down, in the bed since I left it. Still sleeping. I smile and make my way to the kitchen after closing the bedroom door.
I do her dishes, because I can’t help myself. Then I rummage through her fridge and cupboards and find just enough supplies to make us some breakfast. I’ll make eggs for me and pancakes for her.
I have the timer on my phone set for one minute before her washing is due to finish so the beeping doesn’t wake her. I prep the pancake batter and the eggs and heat two pans to get them both on the go.
The delicate wash is a shorter one on this machine, so I duck in and get to the machine before it sings. I load up the next wash and take the basket of clothes to her clothes horse by the living room window.
I hang her dresses in the filtered sunlight and head back to the kitchen to finish up the cooking.
The pans are nicely warmed now, so I get the pancakes and eggs cooking on two separate burners. Before long, I’m lifting the pan to flip the pancakes and do the same with the eggs. It’s so satisfying to watch them do the mid-air flip.
Soon I have a nice stack of pancakes—some for her breakfast and some for her to freeze for later—and my eggs look delicious.
I’m good at this shit, what can I say?
My sleepy-head wanders out into the living space and first sees the dresses hanging out to dry and then spots me shirtless and plating her a stack of pancakes. She looks at the dresses and then to me again before rubbing her eyes.
“You did my laundry and made me breakfast whilst I slept?”
I grin. “Sure did, babe. You needed the sleep and I thought you might like to take a break from normal life for a bit. Come on, eat up!” I hold the plate of pancakes out for her. I offer her cutlery with my other hand.
She gives me a small smile and takes them both. “Thank you.”
I follow her to her couch and sit with her to eat. “I’ll clean up my kitchen mess too.”
“Oh, I have no doubt.” She shakes her head. “It looks like you’ve already cleaned my mess too.” There’s a smile in her voice.
Maybe we’ll make it past what I did yesterday?
“I couldn’t help myself, gorgeous. You know I love to tidy. I needed to keep my hands busy and you were sleeping.” I wink at her and she giggles as she enjoys her pancakes.
“Will you teach me your tricks with these plants once I’ve had a shower?”
“I sure will. Let me see how your laundry is going. I might be able to hang out the next load soon.”
She’s giving me another chance. Must. Not. Blow. It.
“Wait. You did more laundry?”
“Just trying to help.” I give her a sheepish grin and duck into the bedroom to get to the bathroom. She laughs at my theatrics. The mood around us is thawing and I’m thankful as fuck for that.
She takes a shower as I hang out the next load of washing. I don’t follow her in this time. I was pushing my luck getting away with it yesterday and I’m walking on eggshells today.
Instead I take a seat at her craft table and look through her completed projects. She’s got so much talent here, all I hope is that she does something with it. Even when this fling is long over, I hope she knows just how clever she is.
She comes out of the bedroom in another loose-fitting tee and high waisted shorts and I have to hold back my groan.
Those curves will be the death of me.
She’s twisting her wet hair into a high bun. She raises an eyebrow at me. I’m sure my look says that I could devour her, because that’s exactly what I’m thinking.
“So, how do I not kill these plants?” She walks towards the balcony and slides the door open.
I follow like a puppy that needs to be her shadow.
“There’s not much you need to do with succulents. They love the hot sun, so keep them here for the summer and water them maybe once a week or so, if they need it.
“The real trick is to soak the soil completely and then let it dry out. Then do it again. So, if the soil feels damp, just leave them be. They have good drainage and if they get any rain, that’s the watering done for you.”
She nods. “That seems doable.”
“Do you like how I laid them out for you? You can change it if you want to.”
“No... I mean, yes. It’s perfect. I don’t want to change anything. I might leave the door open more often so I can see them better.”
I step closer to her. I can’t help it. She’s smiling at me now and it mesmerises me. She could ask for the world—or my bank account balance—right now and I’d probably give it to her.
I’m in way over my head and I don’t want to be saved.
“Now I’ve shown you how to look after your plants, I’d like you to tell me more about the idea that Maya gave you. Did you think about it some more?”
“Oh, yeah. I wrote notes for over two hours yesterday morning.” She bounces on the spot clapping her hands. I love that she doesn’t hide her excitement. It’s so damn refreshing.
“Tell me about it. Maybe I can help?”
“Okay. Sure.” She takes me by the hand and leads me to the table and seats me next to her. I think we’re on our way back to before yesterday now. She grabs her notebook, flips it open, places her hand on my thigh and squeezes as though to check I’m actually here.
There’s my girl!
She talks animatedly about her thoughts and plans for hours. I ask questions that help her flesh out the parts where
she is stuck. She scribbles down the additional ideas, madly and gets more excited as we talk. She’s got a proper plan written down by the time we stop for a break.
I grab us both water and she follows me into the kitchen for snacks. I lean against the kitchen bench, drinking from a glass and watch her pulling things down from a high shelf. The reaching action pulls her top up and I get a glorious peek of skin.
Mine.
She puts the bowl and a packet of chips on the counter and stops in front of me, she entwines our fingers together and plants a soft kiss on my lips. She whispers, “Thank you for helping me with this. It’s almost like you believe in me more than I believe in myself.”
“I do, babe. I think you’re amazing and this idea is perfect for you.” I plant a kiss on her temple. “Let’s plan a trial for you and you can see if you like doing this with more than one kiddo at a time.”
She nods and kisses me again. “Yes. But first, I want you to take me to bed, bear arms.”
I growl and let her lead me to her bedroom. The word ‘always’ flashes across my mind in response, but I manage to keep it from spilling from my lips.
She can’t know that.
I don’t think I’m falling anymore. I think I’m already all the way there.
My balls maybe in her bag, but my heart is now in her hands.
Oh fuck, what have I done?
TWENTY-EIGHT
BLAKE
Monday morning rolls around and despite the early hour, I’m ready to smash this week.
It’s going to be a big one. Tonight, I leave for Melbourne for a two day conference on landscape architecture, that I’ve managed to score tickets to because of my course.
My boss knows that I’m studying and is allowing me to take time off to attend, so long as he can pick my brain when I return.
Cheeky bastard.
This is a great opportunity for me and I’ve been hanging out for it for months. Usually these events are held only in the first half of the year, but they’re testing out having one at the end of spring with a focus on being sustainable through summer.
