Chapter 35
Katie
I was busted.
One minute my heart swelled, seeing how happy Bronson was playing by the ocean and the next… I was visualising my own From Here To Eternity moment as the waves rolled over us. It just wasn’t Montgomery Clift I was kissing. Rhys replaced him, the Rhett, then… I swallowed hard and smiled, glad that Rhys couldn’t see what the hell was going on in my head.
His grin said otherwise.
It spread slowly, and the setting sun formed a halo around his head. The tips of his hair shifted in the breeze as he drew closer.
“I’m gonna need you to tell me what you were thinking.”
“I…”
My mind started to race, trying to think of something benign, when I turned to see Bronson barking at the birds again. He had come out of his shell, racing along the sands with complete abandon, and that had me smiling. My eyes met Rhys’ and I saw the gentle good humour there, but something else. There was an edge to his smile, something hungry.
I liked the heavy weight of his arm around my waist. I liked the unusual feeling of being able to indulge in public displays of affection. I especially liked the way he edged closer and closer, like he couldn’t bear even the smallest measure of distance between us. My eyes dropped down, tracing the shape of that grin, catching the moment it faded and was replaced by something far more intense.
“Kissing.” I just blurted that out. “In my head, we were in that scene in the old movie, kissing as the waves crashed down— Whoa!” He had me up in his arms and was carrying me at speed towards the water as I slapped at his shoulders. “I didn’t want that for real!”
Thankfully, I was deposited back on the sands, safe from the ocean’s embrace.
“So what do you want for real, Katie?” Had anyone said my name with that kind of raspy edge? I didn’t think so. “Because I’m trying real hard to play it cool here and I’m failing.”
“Tell me a fact about skateboarding,” I said.
“What?” He looked befuddled. “Ahh, Santa Cruz decks are the best.” I went up on tiptoes and kissed him chastely on the lips. “Ohh, so that’s how it works.” When I went to pull back, his arms locked tight around me. “Skateboarding was originally called sidewalk surfing.”
“What?”
It was my turn to be confused and Rhys took advantage of that moment, moving in to claim my lips far more thoroughly.
How the hell was I kissing more than one guy in the same day? That was a dim thought, there and gone again, as he deepened the kiss. My lips parted in a small gasp as I felt his body pressing against mine, and if I had any doubts of how into this I was, they were quickly dispelled. That shadowy shape that had lurked under his towel? It began to stir right now. I let out a little moan as I felt something heavy and steadily hardening pressing into me.
“Katie…”
My legs parted, and he surged in, rocking against me, his fingers sliding into my hair. He bunched it at the base of my neck and then parted my lips with his tongue. Mine tangled with his, wanting, needing, the taste of him. Bitter coffee, the salty air, and him. Each man was completely different and yet exactly what I wanted. The beach faded away as my hands raked along those massive shoulders. I clutched at those thick biceps that had carried me with ease, right up until?—
The shrill sound of a dog barking had us breaking apart, and I looked around blindly to see we were no longer alone. A family with their yappy little terrier was coming our way and their dog made a beeline for ours.
“No,” I said. “No!”
“Bronson!”
It was no surprise the dog had good recall, because Rhys’ voice could be heard from the car park, I’m sure. Our pup’s head jerked up and I could see the moment when he remembered we were here and was ready to come running over.
Right as the terrier slipped its collar and went barrelling towards Bronson.
“Fuck…”
I tossed my coffee cup to one side, starting across the beach, but Rhys was already sprinting across the sand. Powerful legs worked as he ran towards Bronson, rushing to intercept the terrier.
But he wouldn’t make it.
My entire focus was on the two dogs’ trajectory. Bronson’s tail wagged a few times tentatively, then he began to shrink back in a way I was well familiar with. He’d come out of his shell, but now he was ready to go right back into it. His body collapsed in on itself. Ears flat to the skull, tail down, he scuttled back, but the terrier just kept on coming.
Terriers can be amazing dogs, but sometimes it felt like people downplayed bad dog behaviour because of their size. Many of the breeds were created to hunt vermin or larger prey, so they had plenty of the tenacity, the prey drive, to do the job well, but nowhere to direct it.
“Max!” one of the owners shouted. “Max!”
Children squealed and the wife started saying something in a high-pitched voice, but all I could focus on was my dog.
“Bronson…!”
I had to up my cardio. That came out in a gasp as I fought to catch my breath, but my dog heard me. A high-pitched whine and he made a beeline for me. Past Rhys, past the family, past everything, except for the damn terrier. Despite the other people’s shouts, their dog was hot on Bronson’s tail, right up until he reached me.
Bronson was making high-pitched whining sounds, completely panicked, but I stepped in front of him, ready to face down this terror of a terrier. Sharp fangs flashed, a crazed look in its eye, right before a hand snatched the dog from the sand, holding it at a distance as it snarled and scrabbled.
“Don’t you dare hurt my dog!”
The mother came marching over, her face almost as red as the setting sun as the crying children were herded after her by their father.
“Hurt…?” Rhys’ jaw flexed, making apparent he was barely resisting the urge to drop kick the dog right now. Instead, he shoved the ball of aggression into the woman’s arms. “Pretty sure if there’s an aggressor here, it's Max.”
“My dog…?” The woman’s mouth fell open, as if she was the one to almost tear off Rhys’ towel. “Your dog is one of those fighting animals. A… Pitbull! You let a Pitbull free roam in a public place?”
“C’mon, Max.” Her husband caught up with them, taking the dog from her and putting it back on the lead, making sure to tighten the collar. “Look, no harm done.”
“No harm…” I looked down when I felt something hot and wet and saw that Bronson had peed a big puddle on the sand. He cringed when he saw he had my attention, but I dropped down to scratch his stomach. “It’s OK. You’ll be OK.”
“There,” the husband said in a fake jovial tone. “No one’s hurt.”
“But they could’ve been.” I wouldn’t have taken the family to task. Standing up to people rarely got me anything other than a mouthful of abuse, so I admit, I stiffened when Rhys stepped forward. “Your dog got off the lead.”
“You dog didn’t have his lead on!”
The woman was obviously spoiling for a fight.
“Mine doesn’t randomly attack other dogs in public,” Rhys snapped back.
“Max didn’t attack?—”
“He was clearly intent on taking a piece out of my dog! Max chased him all the way back to us.”
“Your dog could’ve chewed Max up with one bite,” the man said, trying to jolly Rhys out of his thunderous mood with a smile.
“But he wouldn’t.” I rose to my feet and felt Bronson pressing hard into my leg. He wanted out of here, now, but first I needed to do this. “He never has. Our dog was a bait dog.” The two adults recoiled at that, even as the children stared in confusion. “Bronson wouldn’t even hurt a flea. Max, however…”
The dog was standing at the very end of his lead, his lips curled back from his fangs.
“Yes, well…”
The woman ran out of things to say, turning on her heel and marching away, dragging Max and her family along with her.
“Are you OK?” Rhys turned and looked me over, then Bronson. “How’re you doing, bud?”
“I think…” I wanted to claw back that good feeling, like the world was turned to gold and me along with it. “I think I’m ready to head home.” When I looked down, Bronson’s tail thumped a few times. “And so is he.”
“Right.” I could see the disappointment there, but this was the moment when I felt like the new me might become something far more permanent. I didn’t make his feelings my responsibility. Instead, I stood my ground and waited for his nod. “You got it. C’mere, bud.”
Rhys had carried me down to the water’s edge, but he carried the dog back up the beach, not letting him down until we were walking along the footpath back to the gym. Rhys reached out, his fingers brushing mine and I clasped it tightly until we walked back into the gym to grab his car keys and my gear. Bronson hid under a nearby desk until we were ready to leave, then bounded for the front door.
“Tell me I can have a do-over.”
We’d arrived at my apartment building and for a second, Rhys sat there, hands on the wheel, as Bronson panted from the back seat.
“What?”
“I had this whole grand scheme planned out,” he admitted, shooting me a sidelong look. “One where you fell into my arms as the sun set behind your head…” He shook his. “Give me another chance at a date and it’ll be better. One hundred percent less yappy dogs, promise.”
“Promise?” I found myself smiling. “Tell me a fact about skateboarding.”
“The US military trialled using skateboarding as a means to navigate battlefields in the 90s,” he said, but before he could say much more, I leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips. His hands went to the back of my head, stopping me from pulling away. It was a slower, sweeter kiss, because this was one of goodbye, not of starting something. “The first bowls were pools forced to empty due to an extended drought,” he said hurriedly as I pulled back. “Some of the greatest skateboarders of the 70s were the Z Boys, sponsored by Zephyr surfboard shop.”
“Save those facts for next time,” I said.
“There’ll be a next time?” I ignored him and turned to Bronson. The dog was subdued but OK. “When? When, Katie?”
“You’ve got my number.” I got out of the car before I asked him to turn around and take me back to his place. There I could’ve helped Bronson resettle, and then when he was quiet and relaxed, I could…
Nope, not yet. My mind rebelled at that reality. I wanted to be the free-wheeling girl that jumped into bed with three guys like it was no big thing, but I wasn’t quite there yet.
“Texting you now,” Rhys said, pulling out his phone. “We can do a group date to puppy yoga. Dinner? Dancing?” I smiled and shook my head, turning towards the steps.
“Home alone?” Mandie appeared with two glasses of wine in hand. I grabbed one gratefully. “No harem to drag back to your lair? I half expected you to fill the apartment with the dulcet tones of you having multiple orgasms. Natasha and I were prepared to turn the TV up real loud to cover it.”
“Too soon for that,” I said, sinking down into the lounge chair. “Hey, Natasha.”
“Good date?” she asked, taking a sip from the other glass of wine as Mandie went to get another.
“Amazing, then terrifying, then amazing again.” I looked down at my phone as a flurry of notifications came in. Rhys was peppering me with suggestions and pictures of Bronson, letting me know which options the dog preferred. “And kinda confusing. I know you’re just talking shit, but…” I frowned slightly. “I struggle with dealing with one dude, let alone three.”
My sister sucked in a breath to answer, but Natasha interrupted her smoothly.
“Same as any other relationship,” she said. “Lots and lots of communication.”
“You dated several dudes at once, Nat?” Mandie asked, sitting down and setting a charcuterie board before us. My stomach rumbled as I speared some cheese and salami.
“I’ve been in polyam relationships since high school, when I couldn’t work out if I should go out with Greg Kennedy or Adam Wills.” Her lips curved as she went on a little trip down memory lane. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been with just one guy.”
“Yeah?” I leaned forward. “Well, I have questions. So many questions.”