Page 58 of Trusting the Fall
“Told you she was hot,” Jeremy throws over his shoulder before leaving my office.
A cool sweat breaks over my skin as West continues to stare at me. “Well, isn’t that an interesting little development?” He stands from his chair with the speed of a sloth. “If you do happen to catch Claire at the salon, maybe you should mention to her about not leaving rubbish around.”
Whoops.
25
Imanagedtofindan excuse to be needed at Parlour Tricks every afternoon this week. Jeremy was there for the cabinetry to be installed, but I stopped in at the end of the day to make sure everything looked good.
I expected Claire to come in and see for herself, but nothing.
I stopped in again yesterday when her fancy gold chandeliers were delivered.
Still no sight of her. She’s pulling away and I fucking hate it.
I want to go back to when she gave me all her sass and orgasms. We’ve moved into this awkward stage where we know each other so intimately, but at the same time, we’re strangers.
I felt her letting me in a little more with every night we spent together. She fought like hell against it, but I could feel those rare moments she gifted me where the curtains pulled back just a little. The moments where she smiled a little easier. Where she would nuzzle into the warmth of my arms for just a little longer. Leave a blazing trail of soft kisses up my neck, as if she couldn’t stop touching me. Holding me in her bubble where she didn’t let real feelings penetrate her, she would shut everything out apart from the physical needs that ruled her.
Learning about her upbringing explained a lot about her reactions from the moment we met. But right when I felt like I might have a chance to pull her over the walls she hides behind, we learned our true identities, and everything went up in smoke. The foundation of trust I’d been building crumbled.
Upbeat music and a combination of cuisines consume the air as Tristan and I walk through the crowd filling Main Street.
Festoon lights are strung up from one side of the street to the other, where people instead of cars cover the roads.
The whole street has been shut down for the festival, with all the businesses along the lane opening up throughout the night. Tables and chairs extend from the footpath to the road in front of Sweet Escape.
Just past that is the florist, Heartfelt Blooms. Huge floral displays are scattered along the paths with people taking photos in front of them.
My eyes pull across the street where Parlour Tricks is.
The shop is closed since it’s still technically under construction, but the business signs are up on the windows and above the door. String lights line the frames, highlighting a hugeOpening Soonbanner with a list of the salon’s services.
I can’t help but wonder what Claire might be up to. The last time I laid eyes on her was when we hooked up at the salon last week. When I was buried deep inside her, holding her close to me. That delicate plum and vanilla scent held my senses hostage, her soft skin rendering me submissive. I didn’t want to let her go. I never want to. But once she came down, she couldn’t get out of there quick enough.
“Do you want to get a drink first and then keep wandering around?” Tristan asks from beside me.
“Sure.” I nod.
We move onto the road where the people are more dispersed and make it to the cocktail lounge, Chord and Coupe. We manage to grab a high-top table in the middle, right under the gigantic jacaranda trees. More lights are strung up from the roots to the branches above, making an illuminated canopy.
“I’ll go order for us. Beer?”
“Yeah, I’ll have a Pale Ale. Thanks.” Tristan nods and walks off in the direction of the bar.
I spot Liv, the owner of Sweet Escape, bringing a tray of drinks out as I people watch.
Families and couples are out in full swing. I’ve always been content with the trajectory of my life, never hungry for more or less. I considered myself a pretty easygoing guy, happy to take life as it comes.
Until I met Claire.
Now, I’m famished. Desperate to devour her fire. Sheisthat spark. That ignition of life that makes my skin prick and my senses delight in anticipation. My Bombshell is much like a flame; get too close, and she’ll burn you. But if you place yourself carefully, not too close and not too quickly, she’ll keep you warm. She’ll let you glow in her embers.
“Lee!” My obsessive thoughts are disrupted by the ever-upbeat tenor of Mason Heart.
He bounds through the crowd like a kid in a candy shop. Big smile and a permanent bounce in his step. He’s wearing a white T-shirt with the Two Hearts Homes logo across the front, the construction company he owns with his sister. My business focuses on commercial builds and renovations, whereas Mason does new homes.
“Are you working tonight?” I ask looking down at his shirt as he steps up beside me, and I slap my palm against his in greeting.
