Her Fiery Fix Page 2

  “No.” I lifted my head and sighed. I wanted this conversation over. “Wellington.”

  “’Kay.” He tucked up one leg behind him, standing like a flamingo while he stretched out the muscles, before repeating with the other leg.

  I watched, fascinated. He was light years away from the guys I normally hung out with. No. The guys I used to hang with. He was more like Zack.

  Unapologetically male.

  I itched to take his picture. To capture his image from a dozen shifting viewpoints. I shook my head. No. Banish that thought. That would be inviting a level of intimacy I wasn’t prepared to handle.

  “So why d’you do them? Is it a Facebook thing?”

  I felt like asking why he went running. Or why he felt the need to talk to complete strangers. At my side, King grew bored and headbutted my leg, and I reached down to fondle his soft ears.

  “It’s part of my portfolio,” I said. “I’m a photographer.”

  “Okay,” he said. “So what did yesterday’s quote say?”

  “The night is darkest before the dawn.”

  His brows tugged together, making him look adorably confused. “Batman?”

  “Yes.” Zack was a huge superhero fan. That one had been for him.

  Surely Dean had interrogated me enough by now?

  “Do you create a new one every day?” he asked.

  “Yes. And I need to go.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out King’s lead. “C’mon, boy.”

  “Nice dog.”

  “Thank you.” I nodded. “Enjoy your evening.”

  “You too.”

  I managed to get a couple of steps, before he spoke again. “See you tomorrow.”

  I paused, and then replied over my shoulder. “For coffee.”

  “Of course. G’night, sandy girl.”

  Sandy girl? What the hell kind of nickname was that? Was he teasing me? I wanted to be annoyed, but it made me smile.

  *

  I slept poorly. Even with the window wide open, my bedroom was hot and stuffy, and a succession of night insects buzzed around me. I not only woke up with bags under my eyes, but also multiple bites down my arms and legs. I kept my arms covered as a matter of course, but they itched. There would be no chance to go to the nearest pharmacy until my afternoon break.

  I stood behind the Gaggia coffee machine and felt miserable. My ankles were ringed with red spots, and I wanted to scream at how itchy they were. Nothing soothed them. I was working, though, so I had to smile at the customers and play nicely.

  In my head, I made a shopping list. Some kind of salve, to ease the bites, and insect repellent. Lots of that. I could do with a fan, too, but funds were short, so that would have to wait. All my money was going toward the cost of the exhibition. The gallery would do the advertising, and they’d host the opening night and put on the drinks and snacks, but I still had to prepare the exhibits. They needed to be printed onto large panels and mounted onto blocks, and none of it was cheap.

  The stream of early morning commuters was constant. Most of them would spend an hour on the train or in their cars, travelling to the city for work, and then the same home again. How did they do that without going insane? Not just the travelling time, but also sitting in an office all day, every day. I struggled enough with university. I needed flexible jobs, where I could move around and occasionally go outside. This little café was perfect, and a million times better than the stuffy restaurant I last worked in. It also didn’t serve alcohol. No temptation here.

  Lou was busy with something else, so I was also taking the orders. I welcomed the bustle. Being busy meant I didn’t have time to brood, and I dealt with each order as it came in. Cappuccino with a dusting of cinnamon. Two large flat whites with an extra shot in each. One soy latte.

  And then it was Dean’s turn. He waited patiently in the queue, his gaze drifting over the baskets of freshly baked goods.

  I was too busy to get pulled into conversation with him.

  Or not.

  “Morning,” he said, with a friendly smile. “Large flat white, please, and something to eat. What do you recommend out of these?” He gestured to the food.

  The question threw me. I scrambled to answer without sounding like an idiot. “What do you like? Uh... sweet or savoury?”

  “Sweet. Definitely.”

  His smile widened a notch, and my cheeks warmed. Was he flirting? I was about to suggest the doughnuts, when Lou bustled back to the counter and nudged me aside.

  “Thanks, hun. I’ve got this.” Lou did a little stretch that made her tits jiggle, and I hid my smile. She flirted as easily as she breathed and would have his tongue hanging out within minutes.

  I prepared his coffee and found myself watching him. He flicked a glance back at me, but I looked away and focused instead on his espresso shot.

  Lou tried to persuade him to go to a party at the weekend, but he declined. She’d already asked me if I wanted to go, and I’d made an excuse. Maybe she was just being friendly? And why did I care if she liked Dean?

  I finished his drink. He stood waiting to take it, but didn’t leave. “You got bitten last night too? Damned sandflies. I forgot to apply repellent.”

  “I think I had mozzies in my bedroom.”

  “I’ve got salve in my car, if you want to use it. The bite marks on your hands look sore.”

  I was tempted.

  Lou must have been listening. “Go on,” she said. “I’ll cover you for a minute.”

  She made it difficult to refuse.

  Dean’s car was a typical alpha-male vehicle. A shiny, black SUV. Light years apart from my junker Toyota. I smiled.

  He rummaged in the glove box and pulled out a tube that he handed to me. “It’s good. Takes out the sting, and it’s antibacterial too, if you’ve been scratching.” He bent down and tugged up his trouser leg, to show me the ring of bites above his ankle. He pulled a face. “Tonight, I’m using repellent. Big time.”

  He was running again tonight. I had a funny feeling I’d be looking out for him.

  I popped the cap and squeezed out some blue gel into the palm of my hand.

  “You only need a little,” he said. He leaned against the car, casual and relaxed, his gaze focused on me. Why was he paying me so much attention?

  I dabbed some of the gel onto my ankles and let out a sigh at the instant relief. “God. This feels amazing. Where do you buy it?”

  He shrugged. “Picked it up in Auckland, but they probably sell it here too.” He frowned, and shifted his feet. “I’m sure I know you from somewhere. I never forget a face, sandy girl.”

  It was my turn to shrug. I dabbed more of the cooling gel on the backs of my hands, but there was no way I was showing him my arms.

  I didn’t know whether to feel disappointed or relieved when he left.

  Thoughts of Dean weren’t far away for the rest of my shift. His smile. The way his eyes crinkled at the corners. The hot body underneath the fitted uniform. And his kindness, in offering me the salve for my bites, before I scratched my skin into a living hell.

  I wanted to bang my head on the counter. No matter how confident and mature he seemed, it was bad for me to think about getting involved on even the tiniest level.

  I had a devil on one shoulder and a scolding angel on the other, and they duked it out over the course of the day.

  He looked older than me. Late twenties, while I was barely twenty-four.

  I prefer mature guys to boys.

  He might already have a girlfriend.

  Not if he just moved here.

  Gah. Saying I was confused was an understatement.

  There was a fresh spring in my step in the evening, when I worked on my sand image at the beach. The temperature was as high, and the sandflies were out in force, but today every inch of my bare skin was slathered in insect repellent. I smelled like a walking citronella candle. It made King wrinkle his nose and face the other way. Was I looking forward to seeing Dean again? Of course. I was stupid like that.

  I sat on the sand, next to my completed art for the night, while King bounded in and out of the shallows.

  “Hey, sandy girl.”

  I looked up at Dean’s greeting. He wore a Batman T-shirt that clung to his clearly defined abs. Had I been waiting for him before I left? That would be dumb, but yes, I had.

  “Hey,” I said, and I smiled.

  He leaned over, hands on his knees, and drew in a series of deep breaths. “Shit. It’s hot out here tonight,” he said a few moments later. “And I forgot to bring water.”

  I held up my bottle, still mostly full. “Would you like this? I don’t have far to go.”

  “You sure?”

  I nodded.

  “Thank you.” He took a long pull, and then another. “Legend. I’ll owe you.”

  “You don’t need to. It’s only water.” I tucked my knees to my chin and gazed up at him.

  He dropped to the sand, to sit near me, and tilted his head to one side as he gazed at my quote. “I give up,” he said. “It sounds familiar, but I’ve no clue.”

  “At night he was wicked, fiendish and sly,” I read aloud. “It’s from a children’s book, Slinky Malinki. He’s a cat that keeps stealing things from the neighbours.” I nodded to my artwork. “That’s why I added pawprints around the outside.”

  He huffed a laugh. “Yeah. I’ve seen that book. I’ve probably read it to my niece a couple times.”

  It was the perfect segue to go fishing. “You don’t have any kids of your own?”

  “Nah.” He slid the cap off and ran his fingers through his hair. It stuck up at odd angles. “Never married. You?”

  “No.” I tossed a stick for my dog. “King is my baby.”

  “Uh huh.” He took another drink, and I dr
agged my gaze away from his throat and the way it worked when he swallowed. Why should that be so sexy?

  “How are you liking Peka Peka?” I asked. “Isn’t it a bit small after Auckland?”

  “Yeah.” He stared into the distance, and then scrambled to his feet. “Enjoy your evening, sandy girl.” He was off, breaking into a run after a few steps.

  Chapter Three

  I didn’t see Dean on Wednesday morning, but I helped out in the kitchen a lot of the time, so I probably missed him. He wasn’t far from my thoughts though.

  I spent an unhealthy amount of time contemplating what quote to use tonight. Something else from Batman. I could decorate it with a bat symbol. If he was a fan, he’d recognise it.

  It's not who I am underneath, but what I do, that defines me.

  I marked it with my signature S, then sat back and admired it. The evening light was perfect too, especially with dark clouds looming on the horizon. The mood I was aiming for was dark but strong, and I knocked this one out of the park. I’d put this one on my Instagram feed, as a teaser for the exhibition.

  No sign of Dean yet. Maybe he was working late? I could stay longer. It wasn’t as though I had anything to go home to. I tossed sticks for King, and then fed him my drinking water, cupped in one hand. I must have waited an hour before I gave up and dawdled back to my room.

  In a long history of doing stupid things, crushing on Dean was my latest dumb move. The whole point of my being here was to sort out my shit. I longed to reinvent my life, to atone for my guilt over Marnie’s death, and to get my head into the right space. Mooning over a guy helped with none of that.

  I threw myself into work on Thursday and Friday, covering extra shifts and running errands. Every hour worked put more dollars into my exhibition fund. I refused to consider what would happen if I couldn’t afford the printing and mounting bills. Asking my family for a loan was out of the question when I still owed them money. Requesting an advance on my wages didn’t seem like a good idea when I’d only worked here a couple of weeks. If all else failed, I’d sell my car. I should get two or even three hundred bucks for it.

  When we closed on Friday, I was exhausted. I sat with King in the courtyard and downed a tall glass of water, fanning myself with a newspaper. Jacques, the owner, was running through his stock supplies, while Dave and Marty finished the cleaning. Lou came to join me, a plate of cake trimmings in her hand.

  “Try this one.” She nudged a strip of chocolate slice with her finger. “It’s possibly the best thing Jacques has ever baked.”

  It melted on my tongue in a swirl of decadent flavours. Chocolate jostled with salted caramel, while a tartness lurked at the back. “Orange?”

  “Raspberry.” She ate another strip and sprawled back in her seat, kicking up her feet onto the nearest chair. “It’s almost better than sex.” She licked each finger in turn. “Mind you, I’ve forgotten what that’s like. This isn’t a dry spell I’m having; it’s the fucking Sahara.” She blew out a noisy breath. “My goal for tonight is to get laid. Since half of Peka Peka is going to this party, I should be able to find someone, right?”

  I shrugged.

  “I wish you’d change your mind and come with me. It’s gonna be completely cool. You’ve worked so hard. You deserve to let your hair down and have some fun.”

  “Crowds aren’t really my thing.”

  “Why not come for half an hour, see how you like it? Then if you hate it, you can go home. It’s only up the road, so you don’t need to drive.”

  Was I tempted? No.

  “Aww, come on, Steph. I’m looking forward to you meeting everyone.”

  “Everyone like who?”

  She rolled her eyes. “We’re old school here on the coast. Laid back could be our motto. When there’s a party, everyone is invited by default.” She sat up and dug into a pocket for her phone. “I’ll text you the address. Mind you, when you walk down the street, you’ll know Jasper’s house by all the people there.”

  “Jasper?” Excitement sparked in my veins. “Jasper Clarke?” Jas was Holly’s brother, and Holly was Zack’s new girlfriend. If Jas was throwing a party, then Zack might be there. Maybe I wanted to go after all.

  “You know him?” Lou grinned. “You have to come, then. His sister got engaged, and it’s going to be epic.”

  His sister. Engaged.

  Oh God. Zack was engaged.

  I clamped a hand over my mouth. I was going to be sick. How could he?

  He was in love with Holly. I’d seen the way his face lit up when he caught sight of her. The way he looked at her was how I wished he’d look at me.

  He’d never do that now.

  Lou frowned. “What’s up?”

  Hold it together, Steph. Lou might be mistaken. “Is it Holly that’s engaged?”

  “Yeah. You do know her. Her guy is so hot. Zack. He’s a soldier.” Her eyes brightened. “He’ll have his army buddies there. I might score a guy in uniform.”

  I needed to go somewhere quiet. Someplace I could break down in private. The last thing I needed was Lou watching me come apart.

  “I have to go. Have a good evening.” I pushed back my chair and called to King.

  “If you change your mind, come on over. I’ve sent you Jasper’s address, so you can’t forget.”

  I knew where he lived. Hell, I knew a lot about him. He co-owned the local gym, where I planned to go to yoga classes, and his girlfriend made and sold cupcakes. How many hours had I hung around at Jasper’s place, on the off chance of seeing Zack when I visited? Or hearing about him?

  I was halfway upstairs to my room, when a thought side-swiped me.

  I wasn’t invited.

  Lou asked if I wanted to go with her, but Jasper wouldn’t know that.

  He didn’t invite me. Was it any wonder, when I was obsessed with his sister’s boyfriend?

  Tears pricked at my eyes. Not any more. I had to accept Zack would never be mine.

  It hurt more than I wanted to admit.

  Chapter Four

  I stuck to my evening sand-art plan. Part visual diary, part challenge, my exhibition was a daily look into my mind over the space of a month. Nobody except me would know or care if I missed a day, but I clung to the routine. It helped provide structure to my life.

  The empty patch of sand stared back at me, mocking my indecision. It didn’t help that I was only a few minutes’ walk from Jasper’s house. Delicious smells of barbecued food drifted on the light breeze, along with sounds of music and laughter. People enjoying themselves.

  Inspiration struck, and I fell back on song lyrics. “Hiding,” by Event Horizon.

  Strip away my skin.

  See me as I am.

  Zack never saw me. Not the real me. I was always Marnie’s friend—and what a shitty friend I turned out to be. The one point in her life when she needed me, when her boyfriend was beating her up and stealing every ounce of her confidence, I wasn’t there. I was too busy getting high with my college friends. Every weekend I planned to visit, something would crop up to keep me in Wellington. A party, a new night club... And then it was too late, and she was gone.

  My exhibition was dedicated to her memory, but no matter how successful it might be, I’d swap it in a heartbeat to have her back again.

  King whined and nudged at me. “I’m sorry, boy,” I murmured. “I’ve been neglecting you. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

  I dotted a few musical notes and a giant clef symbol around the quote, then carefully scratched out the band name at the bottom, before signing it.

  The image was good, but it felt empty. I felt empty. I took pictures, one after the other. None of them met my expectations.

  I packed my camera into its case, well away from any invading grains of sand, and sat down. King flopped down next to me and placed his head in my lap. He always knew how I felt.

  “You saved me,” I told him. “If I do something stupid, there’ll be nobody to look after you, and I won’t abandon you.”

  Burying my face in his thick ruff, I pretended I was fine.

  I longed to go to the nearest pub and get drunk, or score some weed and smoke myself into a stupor.

  No. I was better than that. I’d walk back to my tiny apartment, drink iced water, and maybe watch a TV show on Netflix. Something funny.