Chapter Five
Darcy
The only reason I had dragged myself out of bed this morning for my run was because I wanted to see Owen in his wetsuit again.
Was that a terrible form of motivation? Absolutely. But it wasn’t like I had to admit it to anyone. Plus, it was helping me get up and go running, which was a positive, so did it really matter why I was doing it?
I kept telling myself I wasn’t supposed to be looking at Owen in anything more than a friendly, work-based capacity, but every time I tried, the little voice in the back of my head whispered it was fine as long as nobody noticed. And so far, touch wood, I didn’t think anyone had.
Owen certainly hadn’t said anything, which was good, because the last thing I wanted was to be accused of sexually harassing my employee.
Alfie and Milo hadn’t said anything either, which was another good sign because Milo definitely would’ve had opinions if he’d figured it out.
Alfie would too, but at least he’d attempt to be subtle about mentioning it to me, instead of marching into the kitchen and announcing it to the world, which would be Milo’s tactic.
Ellie, who was our part-time front of house member of staff, spent all her time behind the counter, so it was easy to avoid staring at Owen if she ever ducked into the kitchen to fetch something or take her break.
I didn’t think she’d be the sort to say anything to me, but she might to Milo, so I still had to be careful.
In my mind, at least, I had figured out how to stare at Owen subtly and inconspicuously.
But apparently, that wasn’t enough for my brain, because it wanted more than Owen in a T-shirt and shorts. It wanted wet, glistening, just-out-of-the-ocean Owen. And I was happy to oblige.
I jogged through the quiet streets of town and towards the front, the sea breeze ruffling my hair.
The sky was overcast, the thick, rolling grey clouds threatening rain, which I hoped we’d get to break up the soupy, humid heaviness of the air.
I loved a good summer storm, and although it would likely mean a few quieter days at the shop, I’d take it for the chance to breathe something which didn’t feel like hot, salty water.
As I reached the front, I automatically glanced out across the beach, looking for Owen’s toned, broad form in the grey-blue water.
The sea was choppier than usual, feathery waves breaking on the shore with more urgency.
I paused for a second and frowned, my heart sinking as I realised there was a good chance he wouldn’t be here.
Owen wasn’t foolish, and if he thought the water was unsafe, he wouldn’t get in.
That was something which had been drilled into everyone I knew growing up: it didn’t matter how good or strong a swimmer you thought you were, the sea took no prisoners and it was better to miss out than drown.
“Mornin’!” Owen’s cheerful voice drew my attention back to the beach and I saw him waving at me from in front of one of the beach huts, towel in hand.
Water clung to his skin, his soft curls plastered to his scalp, and his wetsuit reminding me exactly why I’d wanted to see him in it again.
He must have gotten out just before I arrived.
“Morning,” I said as he walked towards me, trying really fucking hard not to stare as he stopped below me.
God dammit, why had I ever thought I’d be able to pull this off?
I swallowed and tried to look at a spot on the sand somewhere over his shoulder.
“How was your swim? It looks like it might be getting rough out there.”
“Yeah, it feels worse than it looks. Although, it’s starting to pick up now,” Owen said with a nod, half turning back to the water and holy fuck did his arse look good in that wetsuit. It was like it had been sculpted. I was beyond fucked.
Owen was saying something else and I had no clue what it was.
“Sorry?” I asked, my face flushing as I snapped back to attention.
“You’re fine. Did you zone out there?”
“Yeah, er, just… lost in watching the waves.” It was a piss-poor excuse and I was pretty sure Owen knew it judging by the curl of his lip. Well done Darcy, super subtle.
“Don’t worry, they’re pretty mesmerizing,” Owen said as he stepped a little closer, leaning on the edge of the concrete barrier to my left and looking straight up at me with a smile that was far more hypnotic than any waves.
“Y-Yeah, they are.”
Owen’s eyes sparkled and I couldn’t stop myself from watching a drop of water run down his cheek. “By the way, I asked how your run was going. Have you got more to do?”
“Er, it’s… it’s fine. I found a new route I like so, er, I’m pretty much done by the time I get down here. Nice to run along something flat when I’m near the end and out of breath.”
“Awesome! But if you’ve still got more to do then don’t let me keep you.”
“Oh no, you’re not. I, um, I…” I trailed off, suddenly struggling to find anything to say. Maybe it was because I was trying to stop myself from doing too many things and my brain had simply decided to shut down completely.
“Well, if you don’t have to rush off, can I buy you a drink?”
“Okay. I mean, yes please. That would be… that’d be lovely, thanks.”
“Perfect, let me grab my stuff. I’ll come up to you.
” Owen grinned and quickly towelled off his hair, making it stick out slightly.
He reached down for his bag and pulled out another giant towelling hoodie, this one in a deep, burnt orange colour, and a pair of flip flops.
He walked over to the steps at the end and climbed up them before dropping his flip flops onto the pavement and sliding them on.
There was a thick, slightly faded tattoo around his right ankle with a wave pattern, and a gnarly-looking scar nestled amongst the dark hair on the inside of his calf which stood out against his tanned skin.
I’d never noticed it before, but then again, I’d been trying not to look at him too closely.
“Pretty sick, right?” Owen said with a laugh as he slung his backpack over his shoulder.
“Got that one in Cornwall when I was, like, nineteen? Made the horrible decision to jump off some cliffs with my mates without checking what the water was like underneath. Thankfully it was deep enough, but it was kinda rocky so I cut my leg open. But it could’ve been a lot worse, so I got lucky.
Thought my dad was actually gonna kill me though when I told him I’d had to go to A&E for stitches.
He’s a pretty chill guy ninety-nine percent of the time, but doing stupid shit like that is a really easy way to piss him off. ”
“I’m not surprised! You could have died!”
“Yeah, I could have. And I didn’t even realise it at the time.
I just thought I’d gotten away with it. I remember laughing with my mate about it in the waiting room.
It didn’t actually hit me how much more serious it could’ve been until about, maybe, eighteen months later when I was in Australia and I met someone whose friend had been paralysed from cliff jumping.
Kinda gave me the shock I needed to take shit seriously, and now I’m all about safety first.”
“Good!” I said it with a lot more force than necessary, and both of us stopped for a split second. I felt my face heat, suddenly worried I’d ruined everything. But Owen just laughed and put his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it gently.
“I’m glad someone’s concerned for me at least.”
“Well, yeah. I don’t want you getting hurt. That would be awful!”
“Don’t worry, I’m much more careful these days,” he said, shooting me a soft smile that made my heart race. “I’ve got enough scars. I’d rather not keep adding to them.”
“Cool… good, I mean… that’s good.” I smiled, then stumbled as I tripped over my own feet, falling against his chest.
I put my hands out, trying to stabilize myself and grabbed a handful of his hoodie instead. His pecs were soft and firm under my fingers, and suddenly I wanted to bury my face in them. “Shit! I’m so sorry!”
“You’re fine, don’t worry,” Owen said, his hand gently wrapping around me.
He was still smiling and, if I hadn’t known any better, I’d have said he looked pleased.
I really needed to start making sure I had enough to drink before I went running, because I didn’t need to get light-headed and start hallucinating.
I pushed myself to my feet, awkwardly realising afterwards I’d used his perfect chest for leverage. “I should be more careful,” I said as I looked down at my laces, checking to see if they’d come untied and caused me to fall. Nope. It was just me being a clumsy twat.
“Like I said, you’re fine. As long as you’re not hurt.”
“No, I’m good. Just embarrassed.”
“Don’t be. I’d rather you fall against me than the railings,” he said softly. He reached up to brush a strand of hair out of my face. “Wouldn’t want you to need stitches.”
“N-No. Definitely not,” I stammered, my face so hot it felt like it was going supernova.
There was a moment of silence as we walked on towards Wendy’s coffee hut. To me, it felt almost painfully awkward, but Owen was still relaxed and smiling so maybe it was only me freaking out.
I desperately searched around for something to say.
Something that would break the tension that seemed to hover in the air between us.
“I was thinking I might stay late at the shop tonight and maybe start testing out some of those new flavours we talked about, if you wanted to join me. Obviously I’ll pay you for the extra hours.
And you can totally say no! I’m sure you have better things to do with your evenings than spending it at work with me. ”
“I don’t. And I’d love to join you, that sounds so awesome!”
“Really?”
“Yeah!” His smile had widened and it made my stomach flip. “Sounds like a perfect evening to me.”
I laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far. It won’t exactly be exciting.”
“Yeah, it will be. You’re amazing, Darcy, and I can’t wait to create some new flavours with you.
” He sounded so sincere I had no choice but to believe him.
And the way he was looking at me… it made me feel like I was special somehow.
Important. Like he genuinely wanted to spend the evening with me and nothing else would make him happier.
Did he… would it be wrong for me to think that maybe, just maybe, he might feel the same about me as I did about him?
It was probably totally preposterous.
And yet…
There was something in his eyes, the curl of his lips, and the way he’d put his arm around me when I’d crashed into him.
And the way he’d asked if I wanted to go for coffee.
Maybe I was reading too much into it, seeing attraction where it was simply friendliness, but fuck did I want to be wrong. I needed Owen to want me in the same way I wanted him.
It didn’t have to be romantic, I totally sucked at romance and relationships anyway, but it would be nice to have someone to hook up with, take the edge off my stress, and chill out afterwards.
I just didn’t know how to suggest it without straight out saying “hey, you’re really hot, want to fuck some time?”
Yeah, that would go down super well if I was reading this all wrong. Hello immediate letter from a solicitor.
But if I could keep flirting, maybe make it a bit more explicit that I was interested, then there was a chance he’d bring it up.
And if he didn’t, then I’d think of something. Even if it was resorting to extremes like turning up at the beach in the morning in a tiny pair of shorts. I’d freeze my balls off, but hopefully Owen would get the message.
I just had to pray it wouldn’t come to that.