Page 40 of It’s Only Love (Citrus Pines #1)

After two hours, three coffees, and one trip to the bathroom which resulted in memories of her and Dean’s first kiss, she still had nothing.

A knot was forming in her chest, her frustration palpable.

After a little while, a defeated Christy packed up her stuff.

Maybe she was too relaxed, maybe being in a more formal setting like an office would help her focus.

With a hurried wave to Taylor, she was out the door and driving into the town, parking outside Justine’s office, and avoiding looking down the road at Iris Motors.

She rushed inside the building, accidentally slamming the door against the wall, and came face to face with Hilda.

Hilda frowned at her for a moment before a smile lit her face.

“Hello dear, can I help you?”

“No, I, uh…” Christy stammered, her eyes wide before spotting the leather chairs in the waiting room. Hilda’s face remained perfectly friendly, her smile not flickering at all at Christy’s odd behavior. She’s probably used to it ; no wonder Justine loves her .

“I just need to sit,” Christy said, backing away into the waiting room until she bumped into one of the chairs and sank down into it, not breaking eye contact with Hilda.

She forced herself to smile at the nice lady, a normal smile, not a serial killer smile, before turning away and rummaging in her bag for her notebook.

She crossed her legs, looking out the window and saw Dean on the forecourt of the garage down the street, talking to a gorgeous, tattooed man and gesturing to the sports car in front of them.

Her heart did a weird little flip in her chest and a wave of longing hit her.

Get a hold of yourself, you just saw him this morning.

Christy realized he had been telling the truth this morning when he said he was needed at the garage.

Part of her had assumed he was lying to get away from the awkward morning-after chat.

She really needed to start trusting people more.

Dean hadn’t given her a reason not to trust him so far, and he deserved the benefit of the doubt.

She watched as he threw back his head and laughed.

She found herself smiling, and with great difficulty she turned back to her notebook.

Two hours later.

“Sweet baby Jesus!” she cried. This was ridiculous, how was it possible that after trying, literally, all day she couldn’t write anything when she was so inspired in the morning?

She dropped her head into her hands and sighed, the knot in her chest tightening.

She rubbed her palm against the area, trying to ease it. She looked up and caught Hilda’s eye.

“Sorry for the outburst,” she mumbled.

Hilda stood up and came out from behind her desk and sat next to Christy. “Anything I can help with?” she asked kindly.

“I have writer’s block. I had a breakthrough this morning, but now that I’m trying to sit and write, I can't do it and I don’t understand why!

” she whined, and Hilda laughed gently. “I thought coming here and being around someone familiar and in a more suitable environment would help but it hasn’t. ”

Hilda tsked. “Well, where were you this morning when you had your breakthrough?”

“I was at Dea –uh– a friend’s house.”

“Was it the first time you had been to Dean’s?”

Christy’s eyes flicked to Hilda . Is she a mind reader?

“You’ve been staring at the garage every ten minutes, dear, it’s not hard to figure out.” Hilda laughed.

Christy instantly felt stupid, clearly paranoia had joined hysteria to have a little party in her brain.

“Sounds to me like you need to go back there if that’s what triggered your inspiration,” Hilda continued, but before Christy could respond, Justine came out from her office saying goodbye to a client.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, when she spotted Christy, flopping into a chair opposite her. Christy looked at Hilda who smiled and patted her hand before moving back to her desk.

“Just thought I would stop by and see if you had dinner plans?”

“I do now,” Justine replied. “Shall I meet you at the bar?”

Christy wanted to avoid the bar if possible, not wanting to see Taylor or Dean right now. “How about we go to yours instead, you can either poison me with your cooking or we can grab takeout, just the two of us?”

“How dare you, I’ve a mind to cook for you now!” Justine joked.

“Perfect,” Christy smiled.

Justine went back into her office to grab her stuff and came back out. “Let’s go. Hilda are you heading off now too?” she asked.

Hilda was switching off her computer and grabbing her purse. “I sure am, I’ll lock up, have fun, you two.”

“Great, see you in the morning.” Justine replied.

Hilda nodded and Justine left first with Christy trailing behind her. As she was leaving, Christy turned back and mouthed a thank you to Hilda who waved her off.

Justine didn’t poison her, or if she did it was taking a while to kick in. They chatted while they ate, mainly about Justine’s hunt for Mr. Right, which was not going well, she was getting very frustrated.

“Are we still pretending your beard burn and love bites are sun-related?” Justine said as she cleared their dishes away. Busted.

Christy felt a smile spread across her face, “I guess not.”

“Dean?” Justine asked. Christy nodded and Justine squealed.

“I noticed you couldn’t take your eyes off each other at the bar the other night. Does that mean you’re going to stay now? Taylor will be so gassed if you’re staying!”

As fast as it appeared, Christy’s smile faded. “No, it was just a one-time casual thing, nothing more.”

“ Chula ,” Justine began, fixing her with a hard stare. “ You’re more suited than any couple I’ve seen. That man doesn’t do casual, and he hasn’t for a very, very long time.”

“What do you mean? He was hooking up with some woman the night I came back to town. I saw them the next morning leaving one of the cabins.”

Justine shook her head. “No honey, he takes the women there so he can get to know them without the whole town listening in. Everyone knows he only talks to them, the poor man is practically celibate. He’s looking for something serious so he can settle down and start a family.

He uses the cabin because he doesn’t want to take anyone but the right woman back to his house,” Justine finished, turning back to the sink and filling it with water.

Christy was shocked, did she even know him at all? He took her to his house, had been intimate with her there, multiple times.

“How long has he been…saving himself?” Christy croaked out.

“Not sure, quite a while though,” Justine dried her hands and turned to face Christy. “I take it he’s not anymore though?”

Christy shook her head. “No, he took me to his place last night and we, well, you know…” she trailed off, dropping her head into her hands and groaning. “Taylor.”

“Did she say something?”

“She tried to warn me. She’s going to kill me.”

“No, she won’t. She just doesn’t want either of you getting hurt, she loves you both so much,” Justine paused. “And so do I.” Something about the way Justine said the last part made Christy lift her head and look at her.

“I know you do. I love you too. You know I’m sorry, don’t you? I feel sick when I think about the fact that I left and didn’t say goodbye to you.” Christy blinked back tears as she spoke.

Justine was studying her nails intently, sniffing occasionally. "I know you do, and I’ve forgiven you, I really have. I just remember it every now and then, and it hurts.”

Christy went over to Justine and put her arms around her. “I know, it hurts me too. Especially as I know I can’t undo what I did. But I’ll never leave like that again without saying goodbye, I swear it,” she said emphatically.

Justine pulled away and held up her hand, pinkie finger extended. “Promise?” she asked.

Christy laughed and linked their pinkies. “I promise.”

They hugged again and the tension eased. Justine played with Christy’s curls. “Of course, if you keep seeing Dean you might not want to leave again,” she teased.

“I told you it was a one-time thing, no matter how amazing it was.” Christy sighed.

Justine smirked at her. “Well, I was there, the night you danced remember? Your eyes were burning into each other so intently you damn near set the bar on fire. I nearly forgot the lyrics! Whatever it is between you, it’s not a one and done, trust me mamacita .”

That night Christy lay in bed tossing and turning, frustrated at not being able to write, frustrated at herself for her hurtful actions all those years ago.

But most of all she was frustrated that Dean wasn’t in bed with her.

She missed his heat, his scent, his voice.

His groans in her ear, his touch. The sheets tangled around her and she wondered what he was doing.

Was he thinking of her? Probably not, he made it clear that he wanted to get back to being just friends.

She valued their friendship so much already that she didn’t want to lose it either.

She wasn’t interested in having a relationship, so she would have to put aside her desire for him and continue to be friends.

She finally drifted off to sleep, her brain obviously not getting the message because all she dreamt about was being back in his arms.

She was a bundle of nerves the next morning, both excited and nervous to see Dean again.

She knew it was crazy, but she couldn’t wait to be around him.

He made her feel happy and shiny, brand new, and so full of life, he lifted her up.

She watched for him from the living room window, peeking from behind the curtains like the desperate stalker she was.