Rising Stars & It Started With… Collections. Кейт Хьюит
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turtlenecks and a big gas heater blazing above them. It was nice to sit outside and Harry seemed content, especially as Bridgette fed him crema catalana. Dominic had suggested it, a sort of cold custard with a caramel top, and Harry was loving his first Spanish dessert, but the mood wasn’t as relaxed as it usually was. Dominic was lovely to Harry, there was no question about that, but Bridgette knew this wasn’t quite the night he’d had planned.
‘So, what’s Courtney upset about?’ He finally broached the subject
‘I didn’t really ask.’
‘Does she do this a lot?’
Bridgette shot him a glance. ‘It’s one night, Dominic. I’m sorry for the invasion.’ She was brittle in her defence and he assumed she was comparing him with Paul. She changed the subject. ‘Have you been to Spain?’
‘We used to go there in the summer holidays,’ Dominic said. ‘Well, their winter,’ he clarified, because in Australia summer meant Christmas time. ‘My father had a lot of social things on at that time, you know, what with work, so Chris and I would stay with Abuela.’
‘And your mum?’ Bridgette asked.
Dominic gave her an old-fashioned look, then a wry grin. ‘Nope, she stayed here, looking stunning next to Dad. And I spent a year there when I finished school. I still want to go back, maybe work there for a couple of years at some point. It’s an amazing place.’
And there were two conversations going on, as she ate thick black olives and fried baby squid, and he dipped bread in the most delicious lime hummus, and Harry, full up on the custard, fell asleep.
‘I’d better get him back.’
They walked back along the beach road, a crowded beach full of Friday night fun, except Dominic was pensive. He was trying to remember the world before Chris had come along and Bridgette was for once quiet too.
She drove him back to his place. Harry was still asleep, and she didn’t want to wake him up by coming in. Dominic had to be at work tomorrow, so there was no way really he could stay at hers.
And they kissed in the car, but it was different this time.
‘Not your usual Friday night,’ she said. ‘Home by ten, alone!’
He didn’t argue—she was, after all, speaking the truth.
RATHER than change things, the situation brought what was already coming to a head.
Dominic didn’t know how best to broach what was on his mind.
He was used to straight talking, but on this Tuesday morning, lying in bed with Bridgette warm and asleep beside him, he didn’t know where to start. He’d been putting this discussion off for a couple of days now, which wasn’t at all like him.
‘Hey, Bridgette.’ He turned and rolled into her, felt her sleepy body start to wake, and he was incredibly tempted to forget what had been on his mind a few seconds ago and to concentrate instead on what was on his mind now. ‘When do you finish?’
‘Mmm…?’ She didn’t want questions, didn’t want to think about anything other than the delicious feel of Dominic behind her. She could feel his mouth nuzzling the back of her neck and she wanted to just sink into the sensations he so readily provided, to let him make love to her, but automatically she reached for the phone that was on her bedside drawer, checked there were no messages she had missed and frowned at how early it was—it wasn’t even six a.m.
‘It’s not even six,’ she grumbled, because they hadn’t got to bed till one—an evening spent watching movies and eating chocolate, laughing and making love, because neither wanted to talk properly.
‘I know that you’re off next weekend, but when do you actually finish?’
‘I’ve got a long weekend starting Thursday at three p.m. precisely.’ She wriggled at the pleasurable thought. ‘I’m not back till Wednesday when I start nights. Why?’
‘Just thinking.’
Though he didn’t want to think at the moment, it could surely wait for now, Dominic decided, because his hands were at her breasts, and how he loved them, and her stomach and her round bottom. She was the first woman he loved waking up with.
It was a strange admission for him, but he usually loathed chatter in the morning. Arabella had driven him mad then too.
‘Do you want coffee?’ Arabella would ask every morning.
It was just the most pointless question.
Okay, maybe not for a one-nighter, but two years on, had she really needed to start each day with the same?
He looked at Bridgette’s back, at the millions of freckles, and she was the one woman who could make him smile even in her sleep. ‘Do you want coffee?’ he said to a dozing Bridgette.
‘What do you think?’ she mumbled, and then…‘What’s so funny?’ she asked as he laughed and his mouth met her neck.
‘Nothing.’
‘So what are you lying there thinking about?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Dominic?’
He hesitated for an interminable second, his lips hovering over her neck and his hand still on her breast. ‘I’ve been invited for an informal interview.’ He was back at her neck and kissing it deeply. ‘Very informal. It’s just a look around…’
‘In Sydney?’
Her eyes that had been closed opened then. She’d sort of known this was coming. He’d always said he wanted to work there; they’d been seeing each other just a few short weeks and there had been that envelope she’d peeked at.
‘Yep—there’s a position coming up, but not till next year. It’s all very tentative at this stage—they just want me to come and have a look around, a few introductions…’
‘That’s good.’
And that wasn’t the hard bit.
They both knew it and they lay there in silence.
Like an injury that didn’t hurt unless you applied pressure, they’d danced around this issue from day one, avoided it, but they couldn’t keep doing that for ever.
‘Come with me,’ he said. ‘We could have a nice weekend. You could use the break before you start nights.’
She didn’t want to think about it.
Didn’t want to think about him going to Sydney, and there was still something else to discuss. Bridgette knew that, and Dominic knew it too.
There was a conversation to be had but it was easier to turn around, to press her lips into his. ‘Bridgette…’ Dominic pulled back. ‘It would be great.’ He gave her a smile. ‘I won’t inflict my family on you.’
‘What?’ She tried to smile back. ‘You’ll put me in some fancy hotel?’
‘We’ll be staying at my flat,’ Dominic said—and there it was, the fact that he owned a flat in Sydney but he was only renting here. He had a cleaner there, coming in weekly to take care of things while he was temporarily away. ‘Bridgette, you’ve known from the start that was where I was going.’
‘I know that.’
‘It’s only an hour’s flight away.’
She nodded, because his words made sense, perfect sense—it was just a teeny flight, after all—but her life wasn’t geared to hopping on planes.
‘Look,’ Dominic said, ‘let’s just have a weekend away. Let’s not think