Oleander - Bucky BarnesxOC

CHAPTER THREE: DINNER

Sleep doesn't come easily, though.

He tries to think about Dahlia and dinner on Tuesday, about those pretty lips and those eyes. Warm and amber in the sunlight. He thinks about the way her skin flushed when he shook her hand and his heart thumps a little faster.

James hasn't quite figured out how he's going to handle this situation. He wants her, there's no doubt about that. He's just not sure how he wants her. James still hasn't figured out if this is just sex or not. It's been a long time since he did anything that even came close to dating, or had a woman have this kind of hold on him. He wonders if she's still thinking about him. The blush in her cheeks tells him she might be.

He grabs his phone and pulls up her Instagram again. She's posted a new photo, lying on her couch with a joint in her hand. Those gorgeous eyes are half-closed and she has a lazy smile on her face.

"Not very professional, Miss Davies," he breathes.

Her tank top is riding up her torso and her leggings cling to her waist, cinching it just a little. James licks his lips, his mind beginning to swirl and conjure ideas about what he wants to do to her. His pulse races in the side of his throat.

He has to see her tomorrow morning.

He screencaptures the picture and locks his phone again, trying to force the thoughts out of his mind. He has to sleep. It's already midnight. James doesn't get enough sleep as it is. Sometimes, the things he's done come back to haunt him. The nightmares are horrific.

He should talk to Father Paul about them, but he'll probably tell him to talk to a professional.

James sighs, staring at the ceiling and closing his eyes again.

He's still furious about Walker. They're going to have to negotiate with him this week if they want to keep the development project moving. He has to meet with architects, interior designers. James likes each tower to look different on the inside.

He might have a franchise, but each new hotel he puts up gives him the chance to be creative. His father liked uniformity. Same uniforms for staff, same marble flooring in the lobby, and all of the rooms had identical linens and beds. James got rid of all of that, along with every trace of his father when he took over. The only thing he has left from the old man is the grandfather clock.

As he thinks about all of the ways he wants to make Walker's life a living hell, James feels himself drifting off into sleep.

🌺 🌺 🌺

"What are you going to wear?" Wanda asks.

"What?" Dahlia asks.

They're covered in sweat, standing on the sidewalk loading the last of Jenn the Bridezilla's bouquets and centerpieces into the van. It's 7:30am. The store is supposed to be closed today, but they need to get this order out, and it feels like they're standing on the surface of the sun. She's lived in California her entire life and she still fucking hates the heat here.

Dahlia is exhausted. Her body is wrecked from a bad sleep last night. She had anxiety dreams about dinner with James - spilling wine on herself, being late, going to the wrong restaurant despite the very clear directions... the worst one was when they were halfway through dinner and she saw her dad sitting at one of the booths, staring at her with fear in his eyes.

That one had her sitting up straight in bed, breathing heavily. She grabbed Basil and snuggled him close until she fell asleep again.

"To dinner tomorrow night," Wanda laughs.