Chapter 9
Once Dina was in his arms, Scott twined Juniper’s lead around his wrist and felt around Dina’s head for any lumps and bumps; she seemed to be fine, just dazed. Her breath smelled quite strongly of spiced wine though, which Scott suspected might have been the cause of the dizziness rather than a concussion. He was surprised by how relieved he was that she wasn’t badly hurt. Just a scrape under the chin and a bump on the elbow by the looks ofit.
She looked, quite frankly, adorable in his arms. And she fit perfectly, like she was meant to be there. Dina had tucked her head into his collar, smooshing her face up against his neck. From this angle, he had a fantastic view of her cleavage, but Scott was a gentleman so was trying very hard not to ogle. He figured Dina would be mortified to know that he’d had to carry her home. And that she’d told him he smelled of pine and soap and dog.
Juniper trotted happily beside him on the pavement, her little paws trampling the dried leaves underfoot. He’d decided to take her to the pub with him, to use as an excuse in case he wanted to duck out early. He’d been on his way there when he’d bumped into Dina.
Scott had passed Cypress Street earlier on his walk, and thankfully Dina had specified it was the last house on the right before she’d fallen asleep.
From the outside, Dina’s family home looked surprisingly normal. What were you expecting? he asked himself. He knocked on the door using the hamsa door knocker. Her family must be into protective charms too.
He heard a shuffling, then the door opened, revealing a woman who looked like an older version of Dina, albeit a little shorter and rounder, a silk wrap around her head.
“Dina fell over. I think she’s okay,” Scott said hurriedly, as he saw the woman’s—presumably Dina’s mother—face grow pale. Then she looked up at Scott and held his gaze just long enough that it started to feel uncomfortable.
“So it’s you,” she mumbled, and then beckoned them in. “Bring the dog too!” she called over her shoulder as she hurried Scott into a small sitting room where a fire crackled in the hearth.
“Put her down here, I’ll go fetch my kit. I’m Nour, by the way,” Dina’s mother said, indicating a sofa piled high with fluffy cushions. Scott laid her down as delicately as he could, making sure to rest her head against one of the pillows. His arms felt strangely empty without her there.
While this was happening, Juniper had managed to detach herself from the lead, which shouldn’t have been possible without Scott noticing, and was now letting out little snores from a dog bed in the corner of the room. Weirdly enough, the dog bed looked oddly similar to her bed at home.
Dina’s mum returned in a panicked flurry, crouching down beside her daughter. She had a small bag with her, presumably the “kit” she had gone to retrieve. She pulled out a small tin and rubbed some salve into the cuts and bruises on Dina’s chin and elbow. Then, she uncorked a small vial filled with an amber liquid and tipped the contents down Dina’s throat. This wasn’t like any kind of first aid he’d ever seen.
A moment later Dina opened her eyes, blinking slowly.
“I feel like someone stamped on my head with steel-capped boots,” she groaned.
“That’s what you get for drinking too much,” her mother replied, but not in a mean-spirited way. “You’re lucky this young man and his dog brought you home safely,” she added, brushing a stray hair out of Dina’s face.
Dina looked up at Scott then, her dark eyes focusing, drinking himin.
“Scott?” she said, sounding a lot more like herself already—no more slurred speech.
“Hi. Juniper fell asleep in your dog’s bed. I hope that’s okay.”
“We don’t have a dog,” Dina’s mother chuckled. “Would you like some tea? You both look like you need it.”
“Tea would be lovely,” Scott said, wondering why they had a dog bed but no dog.
And then it was just the two of them, alone.
“It would be you, wouldn’t it. My knight in shining armor.” Dina smiled, patting the sofa next to her. Scott sat down, with just enough space between them that he was acutely aware just how easily he could pull her onto his lap, her legs cradling his thighs.
“How are you feeling?” he said.
“Rough. Could you hand me that ice pack?” she asked, nodding toward the coffee table. He passed it to her, momentarily wondering where on earth it had come from.
Dina moaned with pleasure as she held the ice pack to her head, her frown smoothing out. All Scott could think was how much he wanted to hear her moan like that again. Get yourself under control man, he chastised himself.
“So. You again,” she said with a smirk.
“Me again.”
“Are you stalking me or something?”
“Last I checked I saved you when you fell over on a dark street at night, and now you’re calling me a pervert?”
“Hmph. I would have been fine,” she replied, sounding a little unconvinced. “About the train earlier,I—”
“Tea’s ready,” Dina’s mum called out just before she stepped into the room, carrying a tray of tea and a plate piled high with all manner of biscuits. Dina rolled her eyes at Scott.
“Oh, you’re already looking much better!” Dina’s mum said. “But you should still have some of this.” She poured out three cups of tea—chamomile and honey, Scott reckoned.
Scott took a biscuit from the plate that Dina’s mother was holding out to him.
“I’ve never seen one like this before.”
“You’ve never seen a biscuit before?” Dina grinned. “It’s a gazelle horn biscuit. Mostly almond and sesame seeds.”
Scott took a bite. “You’re selling it short, this tastes heavenly,” he said, eating the whole horn in two bites.
“They’re Dina’s favorite,” her mum said, her eyes roving over him appraisingly. “So, how do you know my daughter, Scott?”
Dina and Scott spoke at the exact same time.
“We met on the train.”
“I went to her café.”
“Is that so?” Dina’s mum said, quirking an eyebrow.
“What Scott meant to say is that he had the audacity to topple my evil eye amulet from the wall at the café yesterday,” Dina said.
Nour mocked being horrified at this.
“And then we bumped into each other again on the train here,” Dina continued.
“So that’s why you were all in a huff when you got home,” Nour remarked.
“I was not in a huff,” Dina said icily.
“And then you bump into each other again. Three times in such a short span, what a coincidence,” she said, as if it wasn’t a coincidence at all. “Well, Scott, I was about to head off to bed before you brought Dina home, so I’ll say goodnight. We need our beauty sleep for the weekend we’re about to have.”
“Goodnight,” Scott said. Dina’s mum smiled at them both with a knowing expression and left them toit.
Now that they were alone again, Scott felt a sense of tension return to the air. Christ, the way Dina was looking at him from below those thick eyelashes of hers was not helping.
“So, what’s happening this weekend?” he said, his voice sounding rougher and lower than he’d intended. Something about the way that Dina was sitting, holding her teacup in both hands, her legs criss-crossed, made his hands ache to hold her again.
“A wedding,” she almost whispered.
“You don’t say.” He laughed. What were the chances?
“Why are you pulling that face?”
“Well, it just so happens that I too have a wedding this weekend.” He saw the realization dawn, her eyes widening.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You’re Eric’s best man, aren’t you?”
“And I’m guessing your Immy’s maid of honor?”
Dina slammed her teacup down on the table.
“Fuck.”
“Indeed.”
“How have we never met before?” she asked.
“I was away. Different museums, different countries…” He trailed off. He didn’t want to be the kind of guy who went off on a thirty-minute narcissism session talking all about his travels as if he’d been on some kind of extended gap year.
“And you were meant to come tonight, weren’t you? But you were running errands.” Dina nodded at Juniper, snoozing away, who had now been joined by Heebie. Heebie normally hated dogs, but she seemed to have curled up quite amicably beside the corgi and was now licking between Juniper’s ears.
“I just…didn’t feel like going out tonight,” Scott admitted.
“After I ran away from you at the train station,” Dina whispered back.
“That might have had something to do with it.”
“Let me explain,I—”
“You don’t owe me any kind of explanation, Dina. Really you don’t. I didn’t—Idon’t expect anything of you.” Scott put his empty cup down on the tray. “I think I’d better go.”
“Scott, please…”
He scooped up Juniper, who snuffled in her sleep like the big furry baby she was, and headed toward the door.
“Please thank your mum for the tea and biscuits; they were lovely. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable—that wasn’t my intention.”
They were going to have to spend all weekend together, at the very least, so he thought it best to leave things amicable. And from the way she’d run away from him earlier, it was clear she wasn’t interested in him, right? Had things changed since then? Right now, surrounded by a house that felt so much like Dina, it squeezed at his chest a little. He needed to get out.
“Scott, just wait a second, please.” Dina jumped out in front of him as he approached the door. Her hair was a mess, mascara smudged, and she’d never looked so beautiful. “I ran away from you because I was, well, I’m not looking for anything right now. And I haven’t been serious with anybody in…a while.”
“You did mention that when I was carrying you earlier.”
Dina’s face blanched. “Oh god, I hope I didn’t say anything else too embarrassing.”
“Only that I smell like pine. And that I’m warm and big.” He smirked as Dina groaned.
“Please try and forget anything I said. Blame it on the wine.”
As if he could ever forget a second ofit.
“Dina, it’s okay,” he said. “We can just be friends—friends for the rest of the wedding weekend.”
She smiled and his heart tripped.
“Friends would be good. Goodnight, Scott.” She went up onto her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek. Her lips were soft and warm and he wanted nothing more than to turn his face and meet her lips with his.
“Goodnight, Dina,” Scott said, and he shut the door gently behind him. This was going to be a long weekend.