Page 25 of Trusting the Fall

I switch off the jigsaw and take the last arch for the corner piece to the gazebo. There’s a table set up on the concrete slab that was poured a few weeks ago for the gazebo’s base. I grab my drill off the table and step up a few rungs on the ladder. I hold the timber in place and fix it to the structure just as Mum’s voice floats through the garden.

“Wow, my boys! How beautiful!” I smile over at her as she walks along the brick path that winds through her various garden beds.

She has a mix of fruits, vegetables and flowers out here. Lining the fences, she has citrus trees and grapevines. There’s an empty patch of soil waiting for her new climb structure to be delivered so she can plant some passionfruit, which means my favourite melting moments recipe will be on the menu soon. But her new gazebo is more for pleasure than purpose. Daisies, snapdragons and cornflowers will fill the beds along the front, leaving room for sunflowers around the back of the structure, giving Mum and Dad a perfect place to sit and enjoy their space and the life they’ve created together.

“Happy, love?” Dad smiles, just as Mum makes her way to his side, his arm outstretched and waiting for her to nestle right in.

“It’s just how I pictured it.” She looks up at him with soft eyes and waiting lips, which Dad always meets.

I can grumble and squirm at their affection, but in truth, I know I’m lucky to have grown up with such a healthy view of love. My parents may have their disagreements at times, but they always come together with patience, words and a side of playfulness. It could have turned any one of me or my younger sisters into hopeless romantics, but I think the way my parents move and collide with each other has had, not an opposite, but an adjacent effect.

It’s made us confident in who we are, what we have to offer someone and what we need back.

Astrid is gentle and quiet. She sees the beauty in everything and everyone, admiring the unique and usual. When people say life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, it’s because they haven’t met my sister yet. She is all about colour, and with a camera permanently affixed to her hand, her motto may as well be;Smile!I can only hope my sister finds someone who appreciates her big heart.

Thyra is a whole different kettle of fish. She couldn’t be more opposite to her twin. Loud, impulsive, and you wouldn’t think someone who wears so much black could also be such a delicate and disciplined dancer. But Thyra’s the kind of person to laugh in your face, throw back a shot and say,watch me.A little standoffish on the outside, she’s sentimental at heart, collecting trinkets and treasures wherever she goes. Lord help the man who finds themselves in the eye of the storm that is Thyra.

My sisters are only twenty-one, so I’m not sure if serious relationships are on their radar yet. I’m not even sure if they’re onmyradar yet. I’ve dated casually. I enjoy getting to know people, intellectually and physically. I wonder what made my parents know they were right for each other. Did it come with time? Was it an instant wildfire?

If I meet someone I like, I won’t hesitate to keep making the moves. I don’t like to overpromise, but I’m not one of those guys who sits back and plays games.

At least, I didn’t think I was. My Bombshell seems capable of making me do all kinds of new things I’m not used to doing. Not in a sexual sense, although holy fuck the way my body reacts to hers is definitely the hottest and strongest thing I’ve ever felt. But in the way she makes me work for it. That’s not me being cocky either. I like to think I’m good at attracting people who are on the same wavelength as I am when it comes to dating and sex. But this girl is a game changer.

My attraction to people has always gone hand in hand with words and touch, but this fiery little thing likes to lead with her body. I’m a hot-blooded male, and when a woman like that wants to take a turn in the driver’s seat headed straight for lover’s lane, I’d be stupid to deny her.

I’ve never felt so physically attracted to anyone, so needy for them. Being with her has unlocked something primal in me. One text message and I’m dropping everything to go to her. She may be different, but my need to know her in a way that’s more than what she’s giving me isn’t. I want that connection of the heart and mind, too. I feel like this is the start of something worth exploring. But every time I push, she shuts me down.

I don’t know why she’s so against furthering our connection and I still don’t even know her damn name.

I’m not giving up, though. I just need to play her game.

Or I need to beat her at it.

12

Therestoftheweek has moved at a glacial pace. I’ve worked at the other salon until five most of the week. By the time I get home, Lex has already left for her night shifts at Hallucinogens.

I’ve cleaned my makeup brushes, wiped down and reset my beauty desk and ordered balloons and caterers for the opening party at the salon.

All the renovations should be finished in around five weeks, so I’ve planned our soft launch party two weeks after that, just in case of any delays.

Lex will help me go through job advertising next week when we both have a day off, so it’s slim pickings on how to occupy myself once I get home from work.

It’s nearing seven on a Thursday night. I’m actively trying to avoid sorting my wardrobe, even though Lex told me to just do it. I could dress up and sit at the bar while Lex works, just to see my bestie. I don’t have it in me to dress up and go out, but there’s nothing else to do.

I could text Mum and see what she’s up to. If there’s not an event or high-profile guest staying at the hotel, then she’s probably at home binge-watchingYellowstone. I don’t know if I’m in the mood to hear her trash-talking Kevin Costner, though. I swear my mother has invented a degree in finding men’s flaws. But seriously, how dare she come after Kevin like that? I’m pretty sure it’s just because she has a big ol’ crush on that fine cowboy. My mother is long out of practice with those kinds of feelings, though. At least I’m smart enough to sample men before turning them away completely.

I slump back in the pink velvet chair at my beauty desk. This mood sucks. Maybe it’s Lex’s new work roster, and I’m just missing my bestie. There’s a lot going on with my salon build, and I guess I’m still annoyed by Lee, Mr I Know Best, micromanaging every decision I make.

Westley’s words come back to me.He’s just sharing his knowledge, trying to make sure you walk away as happy as you can be in the end.

It irks me that he so easily makes the better decisions for the salon. I don’t know what it is about him specifically, but it’s making me doubt that I can even do this. I’ve never struggled with confidence, but the salon is the first thing that really feels like my own.

I’ve worked in another salon for six years. I feel like I know what to do, and Lex has helped fill in the blanks from a business startup perspective. But this is the first time I’ve had something that’s entirely mine. It’s my heart and soul all painted in pink.

I’ve never had a boyfriend, a father, uncles, not even a male boss. And my mother loves to encourage independence. For the first time in my life, I feel like I can’t do this on my own. But how does someone I barely know seem to have all the right answers? Answers that speak to me specifically. It’s something that keeps popping up lately. First with the salon, and then in the bedroom.

My previously faithful vibrator has failed in epic proportions to get me off. A frustrating week sans orgasm that was fixed only by the touch of Lover Boy. He didn’t even need his tongue or that heavy cock to get me off. But like a gentleman, he did and pulled me right out of that week-long slump.

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