A/N: Sunscreen anyone?


Chapter 7

Margaery leapt up and jumped in the water to join Bronn, effectively leaving Sansa alone with Sandor, who had bent over to pick up his towel, his eyes still locked on hers.

Sansa could barely breathe.

With slow, deliberate movements Sandor rubbed his body dry, his hands lingering over his chest before moving downwards, almost in a caress.

Sansa's mouth watered, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. At her sudden movement, Sandor bit his bottom lip, sending the butterflies in her stomach into a manic state.

The heat she felt burning her up had absolutely nothing to do with the weather.

Setting down his towel, Sandor sat down next to her, rather closer than he had been before his swim. She could feel both the coolness of his wet shorts combined with the heat his body still exuded.

Not quite knowing what to do or say, Sansa chose to watch her friend frolic in the water with Bronn but keeping her peripheral vision on him as he put his sunglasses back on.

"You're looking a bit pink, Little Bird," he rasped suddenly, making her jump a little.

"Oh!" Looking down, she saw he was right, her shoulder showing signs of sun. "Yes, thank you. I need to re-apply my sunscreen." As she spoke, she rummaged through her bag, searching for the tube.

"Need any help?"

"What?" she squeaked, looking at him, but seeing only her own startled reflection in his glasses.

This close, she could see the scarring around his mouth as well as the grafted skin over a large area of his face. She knew most of his left eyebrow was missing and the lid drooped a little. The scarring went down past his ear, which itself looked to have been reconstructed, down to his shoulder. It was well healed, so she surmised that it must have happened quite a number of years ago. With the amount to be grafted, Sansa imagined that he must have had multiple surgeries and she couldn't help empathising with the pain he must have endured.

A brave man. A survivor. It made him even sexier, if that were possible.

"Your back. Need help putting cream on your back?" he rasped, a tiny smirk visible.

"Oh! Oh…y…yes please," she stammered. "Thank you." He was going to touch her, rub her skin! She may not survive it.

"Such a polite little bird, aren't you?" he murmured as he opened the tube, pouring a good amount into his hand.

"Nothing wrong with manners," she snapped.

"Never said there was," he chuckled lightly. "Here, turn a bit so I reach everywhere."

Obediently, Sansa turned so her back was completely facing him. Oh, if only he could reach everywhere!

Though she knew it was going to happen, the feel of his hand on her upper back, added to the cool of the sunscreen, sent a jolt through her and she had to suppress the gasp she wanted to emit.

In no apparent hurry, Sandor rubbed his hand over her back, every finger leaving a burning trail on her skin. Up and down, he rhythmically moved his hand in a soothing caress. When he got to her strap, he squeezed underneath, not missing a spot.

Sansa closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing steadily even as her bones melted. At one point, his fingers nearly brushed the side of her breast and it was all she could do not to whimper aloud. She opened her eyes when his hand lifted, turning to see if he had finished, but he was only getting more cream.

This time, he placed both his hands on her, massaging her shoulders at the same time. A little moan escaped when his fingers rubbed over the nape of her neck before adding a hint of pressure. It was heaven!

"Feel good?" he rasped lowly, close to her ear.

Words were beyond her at that point. She was so damned turned on by his hands, his voice, his nearness, that she could only nod. "Mmmm."

"Do you want me to apply cream to the back of your legs, too?"

If he touched her thighs, she would spontaneously combust, so she shook her head. Turning to face him, she smiled up at him. "I can do it. Thanks for your help." Her voice was noticeably husky.

Sandor's face had a faint flush on it and she could see he was breathing a little fast. She wanted to peek down to see if he was as affected as her, but he was looking intently at her. "Um, do…do you want me to do you?"

She realised what she said as soon as the words came out. "Uh…your back! Do want cream on your back?" she clarified, heat suffusing her face.

Grinning at her gaffe, Sandor shook his head. "No, I'm fine, Little Bird. I applied before we came in. It should still be good. Thanks for the offer, though," he added, knowingly.

Sansa nodded and began re-applying sunscreen to the rest of her body, before applying a generous dollop to her face, feeling Sandor's eyes on her the whole time.

"Ah, thinking about it, can I borrow some for my face? I left my hat in the car and it burns easily."

"Of course! Here, help yourself," she replied, handing over the tube.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him remove the glasses before applying a generous amount of cream over his facial scars and neck, making sure he didn't miss a spot, even the burnt part of his scalp. Not expecting him to draw attention to it, he turned to face her. "Is it all in?" he asked, to her surprise.

Given this opportunity to look at him closely, Sansa's eyes traced over his face, seeing a bit of cream near his eye. Reaching up, she gently rubbed the cream into his skin, surprised that the scars and grafted skin felt so smooth. She also didn't miss his almost instinctive recoil, instantly suppressed. She wondered how many people he had allowed to touch the scars.

"Sandor?"

Before she could say anything, he pre-empted her. "You want to know how I got these, don't you, Little Bird?"

Sansa nodded. "Only…only if you're ok with that."

Sandor shrugged his shoulders before replacing his glasses, as if they were a shield of sorts. "It was a long time ago."

"What happened?"

"Car crash. When I was six and we lived in Scotland."

Sansa gasped. "Were…were your family involved?"

"Yeah. Parents, brother and sister. All died that day. Except my sister and I."

Unable to help herself, Sansa reached out and took hold of his hand. "I'm so sorry, Sandor. That's awful."

"Yeah. My father had been drinking and wrapped the car around a pole. I was knocked unconscious, but my sister managed to pull me out of the car, even though she had a broken leg and cracked skull. As she was trying to drag me out, the car caught fire, and a fireball erupted, giving me these burns. Her hands were burnt but not her face, luckily. She saved me."

"What's her name?"

"Eleanor. She's four years older than me."

"So she was only a child herself. She's so brave," said Sansa, awed at the bravery of such a young girl.

"Yeah, she's my hero," he replied with a fond smile.

"Where did you go, after your parents died?"

"My mother's sister took us in. We were both in hospital for a long time and then I had to return for grafts a number of times. She had some of the worst of her burns on her hands and arms grafted but my burns were more extensive. When I was ten, my aunt and uncle decided to move to Australia and I continued treatment here."

"When was your last surgery?"

"When I was nineteen. So eleven years ago now. Puberty presented some challenges as I grew, with some of the new skin not growing as well as expected. I'm still ugly and disfigured but it's an improvement on what it could have been, I suppose."

Sansa glared at his words. "You are NOT ugly, Sandor! So you have scars! They don't make you ugly, not by a long shot. If you say that to me again, I will make you the worst tasting coffee you ever had, next time you come in!"

Sandor chuckled, and gently squeezed her hand, which she hadn't even realised was still holding his. "Ok, Little Bird. No need to ruffle those pretty feathers. I need my coffee."

"Good!" She let his hand go with reluctance.

They changed the subject after that, Sansa asking about his business and if he had ever returned to Scotland.

"I went back after my last surgery, but there's no family left there now. I didn't have any friends as I spent much of that time in and out of hospital. No, Australia's home now. I prefer the weather here anyhow."

He went on to explain how he and Bronn met at school and Bronn, being English, stood out from their peers, like Sandor. It bonded them somehow, and Sandor's scars didn't seem to bother Bronn. They were both picked on until Sandor grew big enough to take on the bullies.

"Since I missed a fair bit of school due to the surgeries, I fell behind a bit. I didn't really like it anyway. I took woodwork as a subject in high school and found I had some skill in it. When I left, I got apprenticed until I qualified. Bronn went a similar path. When the whole renovation craze started, it seemed a good time to start up a business together and here we are. What about you? Why did you go in to the café business?"

As Sansa talked, neither of them noticed Bronn and Margaery return to their towels, lost as they were in their conversation. Deciding not to interrupt them, Bronn and Margaery chatted until the dark clouds of an impending summer storm rolled over the harbour.

"Looks like it's time to go, Little Bird," declared Sandor, peering up at the sky. "When did they roll in?"

"They've been coming in for nearly half an hour, mate," laughed Bronn. "You two were too busy in your own little world to notice. Talking coffee beans?" he teased.

"Fuck off, Bronn," replied Sandor, reaching down to help Sansa to her feet.

Placing her hand in his calloused one, she felt the warmth flowing though them as he pulled her up. "Thanks, Sandor." With a nod, he bent to pick up his t-shirt and pulled it on, much to her dismay. All those lovely, lovely muscles covered back up. What a damned shame!

Pulling on her own dress, she thought she spotted his own disappointment now that he had taken his glasses off. Smiling to herself, she packed her things away, Margaery doing the same.

They heard the first rumble of thunder as they left the baths and Sansa wondered if they would make it back to her place before the rain came down. These summer storms were often of short duration but they could be very heavy, so they would likely be drenched.

"How did you ladies get here? By car?" asked Bronn.

"No, we walked. It's not far and it was sunny then," replied Margaery.

"Well then, we'll give you a lift back," he offered. "Can't have two such fair maidens getting soaked to the skin, can we?"

"Are you sure," asked Sansa, looking at Sandor. "We've got our costumes on, so it's not like it will matter if we get wet, will it?"

"Come on, Little Bird. It looks like there'll be lightning. Let's go."

That effectively ended the conversation. As they got to Bronn's dual-cab ute, the first heavy drops fell and Sansa was glad they didn't have to walk in a storm.

Unsurprisingly, Margaery rode in the front with Bronn, leaving the back seat for Sandor and Sansa. In a few short minutes, he pulled up in front of the café, the rain lashing the windows now.

Sansa felt somewhat depressed that her time with Sandor was at an end. It had been such an unexpected, but welcome surprise to spend time with him. To actually have a conversation and get to know him a little. Not just as a customer who came in for a few minutes.

As well as being in lust with the man, she was feeling the beginnings of a powerful crush now. When would they have this opportunity again?

Before she could think about it too much, she turned to Sandor. "Would…would you guys like to come upstairs for something to eat or drink?"

Sandor looked at her with a gentle expression in his eyes. "Thanks for the offer, Little Bird, but I need to get out of these shorts and shower the salt and sunscreen off. You know what it's like. Besides, I need to tend to Stranger. He's been alone all day and probably fading away with hunger." He smiled softly to lessen the let-down of his refusal.

Sansa felt stupid for the sharp pang of disappointment that raced through her at his words. Of course she understood. She loved swimming in the ocean but nothing beat the feeling of showering and washing one's hair afterwards, leaving only a sun-kissed feeling. And his poor dog needed his attention more than she did. "Of course." Turning to Bronn, she gave him a bright smile. "Thank you for the lift and it was great meeting you. I hope we see you around more often."

"No need to thank me, love. It was my pleasure." Looking at Margaery, who was grinning back at him, he said, "I'm sure I'll see you both real soon," his voice loaded with meaning.

With a final goodbye, the girls jumped out of the ute and raced up the stairs. Bronn's ute didn't pull away until they were out of sight.

"Well!" exclaimed Margaery as the door closed behind them.

"Well!" repeated Sansa. The two of them looked at each other meaningfully for a moment before breaking out into identical grins.

"Today was a good day," declared Margaery, to the whole-hearted agreement of Sansa. "You and Sandor seemed quite cozy for a while there."

Sansa blushed at the memory of his hands on her. "It was amazing! I nearly came then and there when he was rubbing cream over my back, his hands felt so good."

"Progress right there, my girl," Margaery pointed out.

"I think I like him, Marge," admitted Sansa.

"Well of course you do. Isn't that what this whole thing's been about?"

"No. I mean, I 'like' like him. As in, I'm developing a huge crush on Sandor."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

Against expectations, the storm developed into a low pressure weather system which drenched Sydney for the next three days, causing minor flooding and traffic snarls all over the city.

It also meant that Sandor didn't come to the café. She didn't know if it was because of the rain or he wasn't working at the site. He didn't call to order coffee either, which Margaery said was a good thing, though Sansa would have braved the elements to see him.

Due to the weather, business was also slow though they did get the commuters, grumbling about being drenched by the time they got to work and how nothing seemed to work properly in Sydney when it rained like this.

And Sansa's mood mirrored the weather. She was downcast and a little depressed. She missed seeing Sandor. He had become a highlight of her day and after spending time with him at the pools, she felt the loss even more sharply. Margaery urged her to cheer up, that the rain would stop soon and he'd be back.

Each night, she would pull up his picture and remember how he looked coming out of the water and her breathing would hitch. Now, though, that feeling was complemented by what she realised was affection for the huge, scarred man. Her compassionate heart ached at what he had gone through in his childhood and just wanted to hug him and soothe the memories away.

Finally, after seeming like it would rain forever, the sun came out. With the resulting humidity. Still, Sydney-siders need sunshine like they need to breathe, and the mood of the customers was telling. Everyone was just that much more cheerful now that they were bathed in the customary sunshine.

Sansa was eagerly awaiting Sandor's visit to the café but as the hours dragged on with no sign of him, her spirits took a nosedive.

What if he never came back? What if the job was finished and he had no need to come to Balmain anymore? Would she have the courage to call his business number? On what pretext?

Lost in her anxiety, she almost missed the vibration of her phone in her pocket. Pulling it out, she looked at the unfamiliar number on the screen before answering.

"Hello?"

"Little Bird?"

"Sandor!" she exclaimed softly, aware of the customers in the shop. Her heart was racing in excitement. "Hi! We've missed you around here."

"Bloody rain caused all sorts of shit when the roof leaked. Couldn't do much so I was helping Bronn out."

"Oh, that's too bad. Are you back now?"

"Yeah, but I can't get out. I need you…I mean, can you deliver me a coffee and the croissants?"

Yes!


A/N: Next up - Sandor's POV and things get steamier!