Promises (18 page)

Thoroughly enjoying himself, he shot back, “You’ll keep.”

“Keep what?”  Practically salivating, Luke looked at the meat in the trays.  “Keep us waiting?  I’m starving, man, give me that steak.”

“You just mind your manners.”  Lora smacked his hand as he reached for the meat.

He snatched it back with a wounded expression.  “I’m so hungry my stomach’s eating my backbone.”

“That’s because you haven’t been wormed.”  Jason sat down, Izzy taking the chair beside him.

“I don’t have worms,” Luke returned indignantly.

“Boys, that’s hardly the kind of conversation for the tab-” Lora began.

“You scrabble in the dirt all day, God knows what you’ve caught.” Jason poured himself a glass of cold coffee from the big jug in the centre of the table after offering it to Izzy.

“Hey, it’s not like I’m sniffing at dog po-”

“Here.”  Uncle Harris shoved the plate of onions under Luke’s nose, effectively cutting off the rest of what was obviously an unsavoury sentence.  “Put something in your mouth that’ll taste better than the cake of soap I’ll use.”

Completely unabashed, Luke took the plate.  “Thanks, Dad.  You understand me like no one else does.”

“My cross to bear.” Uncle Harris sat down at the head of the table.

About to take a sip of the coffee, Jason’s grip on the glass tightened when he noticed his mother stand behind the chair on the opposite side of the table to Luke.  Ever since they’d arrived at his uncle’s that cold, rainy night six years ago, his mother had sat at one end of the kitchen table, his uncle at the other end, the boys each side, but now she gave up the position she’d normally have sat in deference to Jim.  She did it automatically, not seeming to even notice.

Luke noticed, his gaze flicking from Jim to Lora to Jason.  Uncle Harris serenely handed Izzy the bowl of macaroni salad she’d brought over as her contribution, and Aaron cut a bread roll in half.  But Jason was under no illusion; the family had noticed and were waiting to see how he’d react.

He didn’t react well.  His jaw tightened, his biceps bunched, yet he kept his seat.  Damn it, it wasn’t his place to kick up a stink, to embarrass his mother by pointing out what she’d done.  It was her decision, but God, it went against his every grain.  She had every right to sit at the head of the table, no man had a right to usurp her position.

Jim stood behind the chair at the head of the table and drew it out.

Jason ground his teeth, felt Izzy’s hand come to rest on his thigh and squeeze gently in unspoken support.

“There you go, sweetie.”  Jim gestured to the chair.

The biggest smile he’d ever seen lit up his mother’s face.  With a gracious tilt of her head she moved around and sat down as though she’d fully intended to sit there all along.

Not knowing what to think, so prepared for Jim to claim the spot, Jason watched, glass forgotten in his hand as Jim seated his mother, making sure she was comfortable before taking the chair opposite Luke.

“Well, now.”  Beaming, Jim looked the table over.  “Spread fit for a man.  I’m starved.”

Lora handed him the tray of chops.

Lowering it, Jim waited for her.

Jason watched his mother have first pick of anything she handed to Jim.  He watched intently, gauging Jim’s eyes, his demeanour, the way he did it all.

Nothing appeared contrived.  As though it came second nature to the big man, he automatically made sure she was settled with everything she needed before dishing up his own food.

Glancing at Jason, Luke raised his eyebrows questioningly.

Jason relaxed, nodded slightly.  Luke nodded back, the barest movement.  Expression sedate, Aaron’s gaze flicked up to pin Jason to the spot.  Uncle Harris smiled slightly, passed the bread basket full of rolls to Izzy.  They’d noticed.

Jason had noticed even more keenly.  His father had been the best at pretending how good he was, how nice to his family, until he’d become too brutal to really care, especially once his sons grew old enough to leave school and come out from under the notice of social services.  Jason knew the signs.

Jim didn’t have those signs.  No red flags, no warning signals.  The big brute was genuine.

It didn’t mean Jason had to like him, but it meant he could relax a little.

Until Jim took Lora’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.  Jason busied himself taking several mouthfuls of cold coffee, placing the glass down on the table and reaching for the chops.  He glanced at Izzy, saw her plate was full, and proceeded to fill his own with food.

The conversation turned general - work, holidays, everyday things.  Izzy charmed the family with her relaxed, happy manner.  Jim proved to have a real sense of humour, his belly laugh guffawing out into the late afternoon air.

Uncle Harris attended to Arnie, finely cutting up some steak and chop, placing it on a paper plate and situating it beside his chair where Arnie waited patiently with his whiskers quivering.  Once he’d polished off everything, the Siamese wandered onto the veranda, plopped down in the chair previously occupied by Aaron, and went to sleep.

Uncle Harris entertained them all by regaling the antics of Aaron, Blue and Luke’s colourful childhood.  In turn, Izzy told them about her childhood, but Jason noticed she didn’t divulge much of her adult years.  Briefly she touched on her mother’s illness and death but then quickly turned the conversation to Jim, who responded by sharing some of his fighting stories from back in his youth.  The man had had dreams of championships but never found it.  Instead of giving up and becoming bitter, he’d found contentment in life.  He actually liked being a delivery man, out and about on the streets, meeting all walks of life.

“Simplicity has its own rewards,” he said.

Uncle Harris agreed.

Letting the conversation wash over him, Jason wondered about Izzy’s past.  Life wasn’t as easy as she made out or she’d not have issues with that man.  He certainly hadn’t forgotten her tears over a photo and letter, hadn’t forgotten how angry she’d been with that bloke who’d turned up.  Who was he?  Jason hadn’t seen him around since that morning, and Izzy hadn’t shown any signs of being upset since the photo episode.  So who the hell was he and what did he have to do with her?

Maybe he should ask Aaron to do a background search.

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than he cursed inwardly.  Hell, that would be wrong on so many levels.  Invasive.  If she’d done that to him, he’d be livid.  Besides, it didn’t show trust, did it?  Relationships were built on mutual trust and respect.  He’d just have to wait, see what happened, hope she’d grow to trust him enough to confide in him.  Hope?  Hell, he’d work on getting her to know how trustworthy he was.

And meanwhile, if that bloke showed up bothering her, Jason would be there to sort him out.

~*~

The night was quiet.  Everyone had left, the food and dishes had been cleared away, the BBQ scrubbed clean, wooden chairs neatly pushed in under the wooden table.  Arnie snoozed on the sofa in Jason’s lounge.

A glass of iced water in each hand, Jason stood in the kitchen doorway gazing at Izzy out on the back veranda.  The light spilling from the kitchen provided just enough light to see by, but not enough to chase the shadows away.

It was in those shadows she stood, the heels of her hands braced on the railing as she looked out over his yard and breathed in deeply of the night air.  The night couldn’t hide her completely, her silhouette blending in with the shadows yet standing apart.

Definitely the night was kinder to his yard.  His goal was to finish the house first, then tackle the outside.

The night neither detracted from nor enhanced Izzy.  She just was, standing there with the cool breeze stirring the stray tendrils of sandy hair that had escaped the high, jaunty ponytail.  The pale blue jumper she wore skimmed lush curves to drape over a sweetly heart-shaped bottom.  Soft navy slacks covered those rounded thighs.  A pair of leopard print ballet flats was on her feet.

God, she was beautiful in her own sweet, sweet, damned sweet way.  Not classically beautiful, not entrancingly beautiful, but Izzy beautiful.  Beautiful to him.

His heart picked up a little, his blood just a little thicker as he stepped out onto the veranda, moved nearer, the security screen swinging silently shut, the faint click of the latch catching her attention.

Turning her head, she smiled at him.  “This was a fantastic afternoon.  Thank you so much for inviting me.”

Moving up beside her, he handed her a glass.  “Thank you for coming.”  Then, because he couldn’t help it, he nuzzled her temple, pressed a soft kiss to the tip of her nose before bending further to rest his elbows on the railing and sip from his glass.

Cold water trickled down his throat, fresh and clean.

Just like Izzy.  That feminine scent that was all hers naturally was just as fresh, just as clean.  Just as sweet.  The faint underlying perfume she wore was light, fragrant.

Need stirred inside him.  Need that had been present the whole afternoon, the sound of her laughter, her teasing, her thoughtful comments and looks only adding to that need. 

Her nearness, her warmth, turning it into desire.

Easy.  Steady
.

That desire turning a little hotter as she shifted enough to partially face him, resting her shoulder against the veranda post as she took a mouthful of water and sighed in bliss.  That sigh lifted those generous breasts, the faint gleam of the light catching those pale green eyes heating him a little more.  Soft lips, a small tongue that licked an errant drop of water from the delicate skin making his gut clench a little.

“I like your family,” she murmured.

“They’re a good mob.”  Seeking to keep the atmosphere comfortable, not wanting to make her uneasy, Jason transferred his gaze to the yard.

“Your Mum is lovely.”

“Best ever.”

“You want to talk about Jim?”

“Nope.”

Izzy laughed huskily.  “Going to tell me to mind my own business?”

That husky laugh stroked decadently through him like hot silk.  Still, he managed to grin faintly.  “Nope.”

“Going to get all tough on me?”

“I wouldn’t get tough on you, Iz.”

She leaned down on her elbows right beside him.  “How about rough?”

He inhaled her scent, felt her warmth against his upper arm.  “Never.”  Expecting a saucy reply and receiving only silence, he glanced around, surprised to find her watching him so seriously.

The shadows cast interesting planes on her face, a flash of reflection in her eyes, a sweep of thick lashes as she blinked slowly before swallowing.

Hell, she was nervous.  Of what?  Him?  Jason tensed a little.  Shit, could she see through his easy façade?  Did she sense the desire in him, see the burn of lust in his eyes that was growing more with every second that passed with her in such close proximity?

Seeking to hide it, he turned his face back to the yard, giving her his silhouette.  He had to get his blasted libido under control, present a calm front, not scare or alarm her.  His loins tightened a little against his will.  Damn it, he-

Abruptly she straightened, catching him off-guard.  “I’m sorry.”

“What?”  Still leaning against the rail, he looked up at her.

“I’m sorry, Jason.  I thought…”  She bit her lip.

Frowning, he placed the glass on the rail.  “Izzy, what’s wrong?”

“I…Nothing.”

It didn’t look like nothing.  Her smile in the shadows was brittle, her tone a little embarrassed, a little uncertain…a little husky.

“Izzy-”  He couldn’t finish, not when suddenly she was there, bending down, her hand cupping his cheek, her lips on his.

Kissing him so hotly, so deeply, so fast and hard.  Igniting the coil of heat in his loins.

Startled by the sudden, unexpected act, Jason could only blink when Izzy abruptly jerked back, her eyes huge.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, touching her fingertips to her lips.

“Sorry?”  Hell, he wasn’t sorry.  Jason straightened, watching her, trying to gauge exactly how she was feeling.

Embarrassed, going by her expression.  She glanced away, bit her lip, looked back up at him.  Only now she was peeking up through those thick lashes as though hiding behind them.

He stilled, heat surging through him.  There was no hiding the desire in her eyes, however shadowed.

“I didn’t mean…”  She stopped, swallowed.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, “you did.”

For a second she looked like she was going to turn tail and run, and he was ready to go right after her and see where this would lead - hell, he knew where he
ached
to have it lead - but then she tossed her head, folded her arms beneath that generous bosom and announced brazenly, “Okay, I wanted to kiss you so I did.”

Oh yeah.  That hot buzz low in his belly crawled seductively in widening circles.  “Is that right?”

“That’s right,” she returned boldly.

Amusement trickled through him accompanied by a hotter flush of desire.  She might sound bold but there was a flush in her cheeks, and the best tell-tale giveaway - her hands were fisted and clenching.  He knew for a fact that if she hadn’t had her arms crossed, she’d be lightly patting her knuckles together.