Slow Dreaming Read online

  “And here I was thinking the fourth sign was being a true believer of the sanctity and healing properties of coffee,” Jason deadpanned.

  SEAN placed his hands on either side of him, using them to steady himself on the low wall so that he could lean back to soak up what there was of the sun. He loved it on the foreshore and often came here to think. It was a between place; traffic rushed past behind him on The Esplanade, heading in and out of the city, while in front of him the sea ebbed and flowed as it had for thousands of years and would continue to do for thousands more. Man and nature could coexist in places like this, each not quite encroaching onto the other’s territory. The wall was designed to be a stop bank, a barrier to prevent a very high tide from wreaking havoc on the road behind it, the curb and wide concrete space in front of it a reminder to the traffic that although cars could park here, that was as far as they could go.

  The wind was getting up again; it was always colder here than in the more sheltered spots. He zipped up his jacket, pulling himself upright, letting his feet swing against the wall and back again in an uneven rhythm. It wasn’t music that had brought him here today, although that song was still constantly changing and evolving in the back of his mind.

  Jason.

  Sean felt his lips form a smile at the memory of the conversation they’d shared the day before. It was more than Jason’s looks that drew Sean to him, although he was very easy on the eye. He swallowed. God, the thoughts he’d had last night about the guy. Imagining what it would be like to touch him and be touched. He’d always had a thing for blonds… and redheads. Jason had short blond hair; the stubble on his face was a pale red. His eyes, green with a fleck of brown, reflected a keen intelligence that showed in the way he spoke. Yet there was wariness there, sadness, almost. No, not sadness but resignation.

  It had been a long time since he’d felt like this toward someone. This was more than physical, although that had given him the courage to make the initial approach. Sean wasn’t in the habit of trying to pick guys up—he’d learned from experience that it wasn’t always a great idea. He sighed, remembering his last attempt, six months ago. Note to self: straight guys do not like being hit on by other guys. Damn, he’d been so sure the guy was gay. His flatmate, Leilani, had given him hell over it later, and then thrown him a packet of frozen peas for his eye.

  Okay, fine, but how was he to know the object of his then desires played for the local rugby team and had the right hook from hell?

  Jason had seemed safe. After all, he’d started it by eyeing up Sean first, and they were in a cafe surrounded by people he knew. Oh, fuck, he’d picked up a guy in front of people he knew. No wonder Ruth had that grin when he’d left. Work tomorrow was going to be such fun. She’d tease the hell out of him and then ask for details.

  What details? Sean snorted and shoved his hands in his pockets. The conversation had been good but it had ended all too soon. He’d arrived home only to realize they hadn’t even exchanged contact details.

  Come to think of it, for a so-called Canadian, the accent wasn’t there, either. Jason didn’t really have one, just a few words here or there pronounced a little differently, but that was it.

  A dog barked. He lifted his head, looking around for the source of the noise. A couple of teenagers were walking along the beach, throwing sticks for a lab. Above him, seagulls circled, calling to each other, their lonely cry speaking to him, pulling at the emptiness in his own heart.

  He snorted. This song was really getting to him, to the point where his thoughts were starting to sound like lyrics, and depressing ones at that. He had friends, he was happy with his life. He didn’t need a boyfriend or a significant other to be complete.

  “Hey, is this seat taken?”

  “Only for the moment.” Sean didn’t bother to look up. “I was just leaving.” He’d walk along the beach for a bit, kick some shells, skim some along the water before heading home.

  “Damn, and I only just got here. Guess my timing kind of sucks.” The guy sounded familiar, almost amused.

  Something clicked. “Jason?”

  “Last time I looked, yeah.” Jason sat down next to Sean but kept a respectable distance between them. “You come here often?”

  “That’s the same line you used yesterday,” Sean felt the need to point out. What was Jason doing here of all places? After yesterday, it seemed too much of a coincidence.

  “It worked, I thought.” Jason shrugged. “So I figured why not use it again?” He smiled, his face lighting up, but there was still that not-quite sadness in his eyes.

  “I’m just about to go for a walk along the beach.” Sean offered the invitation on impulse. This time he’d do it right, find out where Jason lived and make sure there would be a next time. “We can talk and walk if you want.”

  “Sounds good.” Jason slid off the wall, closing the distance between it and the sand with ease. He was tall, a few inches taller than Sean’s own six foot, but more heavily built. The shirt he wore today was a tight fit compared to the previous one and didn’t leave much to the imagination as to the muscles and almost washboard stomach underneath. Sean had always prided himself on having a good imagination.

  “Are you going to be warm enough?” Sean’s voice came out a little hoarser than he anticipated.

  “I don’t feel the cold so much, and besides, we’ll be walking, right?” Jason stared out at the ocean, his attention taken by the small island in the middle of the harbor. “That’s Somes Island, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” Sean joined him on the beach and pointed to the boat that could be seen slowly making its way toward the strait. “See that? That’s one of the Picton ferries; they do a couple of crossings a day. It’s too far away to tell which one it is, though. You’ll probably want to make note of all that stuff for your article. I can find you some more information if you want. There’s plenty of it online and lots on the history of the area in the local library too.”

  “Article?” Jason looked blank for a moment, then seemed to collect himself. “Oh yeah, that.” He’d told Sean that he was here taking notes about the area. His voice softened, carrying with it an edge of awe. “I never thought I’d see it, any of it. I’ve seen images, read about it, but actually seeing it….” He turned to Sean, his eyes bright. “This stuff never fails to blow me away, you know. This place, especially. It’s so much like home, yet not.” He froze, his hand going to his mouth. “Fuck.”

  “Yeah. There’s not so much in the way of beaches in Canada, from what I’ve heard.” Sean couldn’t decide whether to be amused by Jason’s realization that he was busted or annoyed that he’d just had it confirmed he’d been lied to.

  “That would be the not,” Jason mumbled. He studied Sean for a moment. “Okay, so I’m not really from Canada. According to my ID, I’m from Auckland, but I’m not really from there, either.”

  What the hell was he playing at? Sean took a step back instinctively. “How much of what you said yesterday was bullshit, Jason?”

  “Only that.” Jason glanced around, his eyes narrowing, relaxing again when he confirmed they had the beach mostly to themselves. The couple with the dog had moved further down the shoreline and was having a discussion in front of the Early Settlers Museum. “I wasn’t lying when I said I was attracted to you, honest.” He took a deep breath. “I am working on an article of sorts; it’s just that I can’t tell you what exactly.”

  “Or I suppose you’d have to kill me?” Sean couldn’t help but comment dryly.

  Jason’s eyes widened. “God, no.” His breath hitched. He opened his mouth to say something else then averted his eyes. “We only have till Friday, I just… my assignment will be over then and….”

  “You can tell me then?” Sean pulled his jacket tighter around himself as a shiver went through him. Someone had walked over his grave, his old gran would have said. “Who the hell are you, Jason, and what’s so secret that you can’t be honest about where you’re from?”

  “No one sp
ecial.” Jason bit his lip; he looked out to sea. The crests of the waves were almost white, no, closer to a dirty gray, as though hiding secrets of their own. “I’m not asking for anything from you, Sean, and I promise I don’t mean you any harm. I just thought… I’m only here for a few days and I’d rather not spend them alone. That’s all, all it’s ever going to be.”

  Something about Jason tugged at Sean. He walked over closer, his instincts winning out over his better judgment. Whatever Jason was involved in, whatever this assignment was, it was eating at him. He sounded as though he could do with a friend. Sean could do that. In fact, it might be just what he needed too.

  “Okay.” He took a deep breath. “I like you, Jason. I’m probably crazy, but there’s something about you that screams at me that I want to get to know you better.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Jason smiled wanly. He reached out and tentatively took Sean’s hand in his. “I can’t tell you the specifics of my assignment, of this article I’m writing, but I won’t lie to you, not anymore.”

  Sean nodded and squeezed Jason’s hand, the skin-to-skin contact sending a welcome warmth through him. “Where are you from, Jason?” He was curious now, and surely the question wouldn’t conflict with the rest of the whole need-to-know thing.

  “Here,” Jason said softly. “Not some other country like I told you, but here.”

  “Here?” Sean’s eyebrow rose. He couldn’t help but glance out over the ocean again. “But you just said you never thought you’d see it. You can’t live around here and claim to never have seen the sea; we’re surrounded by it.” He shrugged. “Ruth’s lived here since the sixties. She says this beach looks much the same now as it always has; it’s just Petone itself that’s changed. It used to be all secondhand shops, now it’s cafes and the like.”

  “I guess a kid’s memory of a place is different from the reality of it, and it wasn’t quite what I expected.” Jason’s eyes clouded over. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m not very good at explaining myself, am I?”

  “I thought you were a travel writer,” Sean teased, regretting the words when Jason bit his lip and turned away.

  “Yeah, well, I never said I was a good one,” he murmured.

  “Your magazine wouldn’t have sent you here if you weren’t,” Sean reminded him. He followed Jason’s gaze, his attention taken by the small dots of traffic making their way over the Wainui hill. “Walk with me a bit?” He checked his watch. It was his turn to cook tonight, and he’d promised Leilani he’d make chili. “I have another twenty minutes before I need to be home. I’d like some company until then if that’s okay with you.”

  “Okay. I’d like that.” Jason nodded, redirecting his attention to the beach. His expression brightened in a very obvious change of subject. “Could we have a go at skimming shells across the water? I’ve always wanted to do that.”

  THE next morning found Jason on the foreshore once more. It was warmer than the day before, and he took off his jumper, knotting the sleeves around his waist as he crouched down on the damp sand, skimming round shells across the waves.

  The ocean was calmer, the sun glistening off it in different shades of green. A small raft bobbed a short way out from shore, anchored there to provide swimmers with somewhere to rest or sunbathe once summer came.

  He smiled, remembering the previous day, his fingers curling around the mobile phone in his pocket. He’d bought it so he could trade numbers with Sean, surprised when it was his new friend who had suggested it.

  So much of the area had changed, would change, during the next two hundred years, some of it down to nature, some not. Sean hadn’t asked any more questions Jason couldn’t answer, for which he was thankful. Lying didn’t come naturally to him, but unfortunately, telling the complete truth was not something that could be allowed to happen, at least not yet.

  Jason shrugged. It was doubtful Sean would believe him, anyway. There was no point in ruining the short time they had left.

  He picked up a flat stone, skimming it along the same path as the shells. One, two, three jumps and it sank, ripples spreading outward as it disappeared from view.

  Fuck this. It was so unfair. Sean, from what Jason could tell, was a good man: intelligent, talented, and damn good-looking. He should have a bright future ahead of him, with someone who cared about him.

  Don’t fall for him, it won’t work. It can’t. That’s what makes it safe.

  The words whispered to him, a warning he answered with a shrug. He wasn’t planning to do that, just spend some time with the guy. Closure was important. He’d seen friends lost and adrift, wondering if there was something they could have done, regretting their indecision to act. That path wasn’t for him. Better a few days of good memories and friendship than this bloody observing-from-a-distance crap.

  He glanced at his watch and straightened. Sean would be finishing his shift at the cafe soon. They’d arranged to meet for lunch, some Indian place nearby that Sean insisted Jason needed to try. He treated himself to a meal out once a week, lunch being cheaper than dinner. Besides, if they ate somewhere away from the cafe it would keep Sean’s coworkers from asking Jason too many questions.

  The moment he walked through the cafe door, he knew their plan was going to turn out to be less than brilliant. The cafe was packed, and Sean was behind the counter alone, working through what seemed to be a pile of orders. He looked up when Jason entered and mouthed the word “sorry.” Of Ruth, there was no sign.

  “Need some help?”

  “Yeah, could you?” Sean’s relief was obvious. “I’d owe you one. Ruth got a call from school, one of her kids is sick, and Lisa hasn’t shown up.” He threw Jason a spare apron and nodded toward the kitchen. “I can handle this if you’d like to deal with the dishes. I’ll make it up to you, promise. Do you know how to work one of those dishwashers?”

  “Yeah.” How hard could it be? “Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out, then I’ll clear some tables.” He wasn’t about to inflict his less than stellar coffee and tea-making skills on paying customers, but this was something he could do.

  The next hour went by quickly, once he figured out how the dishwasher worked. He was clearing his third table when a petite blonde girl entered the cafe. She was breathing hard, as though she’d been running. “Sean, oh my God, I’m so sorry. My car broke down, and I missed the bus. I tried to let Ruth know, but all I got was her voice mail.”

  “No worries, we’ve got it all under control.” Sean flashed Jason a grin, and to his embarrassment, he found himself blushing in response. “Jason, this is Lisa. Lisa, Jason.” Sean wiped his hands and pushed his glasses up his nose.

  “Oh. The Jason.” Lisa looked Jason up and down. “I approve, Sean. And he does dishes and clears tables, I see. I hope you’re planning to keep him.”

  This time it was Sean’s turn to blush. He mumbled something under his breath that Jason didn’t catch. The cafe was quieter now, the lunch crowd having moved on apart from one or two stragglers. Jason continued wiping down tables after giving Lisa a brief nod of acknowledgment. For once in his life, he couldn’t think of the appropriate response to what someone had said.

  A short time later, Ruth bustled in, somewhat flustered. “Sorry about that.” She glanced around the cafe, relieved. “All under control, I see.”

  Jason undid his apron. Now that Ruth was back, he wouldn’t be needed anymore. He’d wait for Sean at their table and slip out with him once he was done.

  “Thanks to Jason,” Lisa said a little more loudly than necessary. Jason froze in his tracks, all hopes of sneaking the apron back to its rightful place gone, as he was suddenly the center of attention. “He stepped in when I was late and then stayed to help out some more.”

  Ruth’s eyebrow rose. She was a middle-aged woman, well built, with laughter lines around her eyes; her thick hair hung down her back in a long red plait. “I’m impressed. Thank you, Jason. I’ll make sure you’re paid for your time, of course.”

  “No need.�
�� Jason didn’t want to have to explain that one to James, or the fact his cover probably wouldn’t stand the type of scrutiny that an IRD number required and the like. Long-term assignments did, but this wasn’t meant to be that, not by a long shot. “I was just helping out a friend, that’s all.”

  “Lunch on the house next time you’re in, then.” Ruth didn’t look as though she was prepared to take no for an answer. “Okay?”

  Sean stepped in and neatly diverted the conversation. “How’s William?”

  “Poor baby has a sore throat, so I’m keeping him home for a few days.” Ruth took off her coat and hung it up. “I’m still waiting on a doctor’s appointment. Sean, would you be able to come in early tomorrow if you’re needed?”

  “Sure, no problem.” Sean arched his shoulders, a half stretch to get the kinks out. “Text me if you want. I usually keep the phone by the bed, anyway.”

  It took a nudge from Lisa before Jason realized that Sean was still talking. “Hmm?” The visual of Sean stretching like that, and in bed, had distracted him somewhat. What he wouldn’t give to see that, or better yet, be there and give him a well-deserved massage. How Sean couldn’t believe he was hot was beyond Jason. One look at his eyes when he’d taken off his glasses had been enough to hook Jason in completely. God, he was so in lust with the guy.

  Fuck. It looked like he’d be taking a few cold showers before this assignment was over.

  “Sean asked you if you wanted a coffee before the two of you left,” Lisa repeated helpfully, not keeping the amusement out of her voice. “Although it does seem as though your mind might be on wanting a little of something else.”

  “Lisa!” Sean stared at her. “See,” he told Jason, “this is why I suggested Indian for lunch.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetness.” Lisa blinked, her expression the picture of innocence.