Authors: Angela Verdenius
“Please.”
Not about to argue, he nodded.
“Okay. Go on.”
“They’re not a bikie mob, not like
Hells Angels or anything like that. They’re just a bunch of blokes who like
motorbikes. They meet now and again, have a few drinks, but they’re not rowdy,
there’s no fighting. And it’s actually only a few blokes, you know? Not a
club or anything.”
Why was she so worried? Frowning,
Sam studied her. She was biting her lip, fidgeting with the handle of the mug.
Looking up, she saw his frown.
“Sam, I promise you, there’re no wild times, wild parties. No drugs. We’re
just ordinary people. Last night wasn’t something that’s going to happen
regularly, I promise you. Ed’s not like that, we’re not like that. I-”
Understanding dawned, and leaning
across the table, Sam laid his hand over hers to stop her fidgeting fingers.
“Honey, stop.”
“Sam, I-”
“Carly.”
Dropping her gaze, she went
silent.
“Honey, look at me.” When she raised
her eyes, he could see the uncertainty in them and it tugged at something way
down deep inside him. Soothingly, he rubbed his thumb over the back of her
hand. “Nothing of the kind crossed my mind.” Wisely, he didn’t mention his
fleeting doubts about the peace of the neighbourhood when he’d heard the
motorbike roaring off down the road. “I don’t think you’re that kind of
people.”
“We’ve just met.”
“And already I’ve patched you up
and helped pour Ed into bed.”
“Pour?”
“In his sodden state, it was definitely
‘pour’ and not ‘put’.”
She grinned faintly.
“And yet I still came over to
check your hand, didn’t I?”
“Yes.”
“And I’m sitting here drinking
your tea and eating your biccies, right?”
“Right.”
“Right.”
Turning her hand, she linked her
fingers through his and squeezed gently. “Thanks, Sam.”
Hell, that little squeeze of his
hand had warmth spreading right up his arm, and when she smiled so gently, he
had the sudden urge to lean across the table and kiss her, to touch his lips to
those inviting, plump ones, to drown in her soft brown eyes and-
“You are such a good man. I just
know we’re going to be friends.”
That was like a dash of ice water
to his rapidly heating ardour. Just like that -
fizzzzzz!
Heat chilled
down.
Mustering his professional shield,
he smiled at her, released her sweet little hand, sat back, raised his mug in
salute and said, “Friends.”
Well, look at him, tough man, good
man.
Freakin’ idiot
. But then Carly smiled again, her shoulders
relaxing, and the warmth in her eyes was so genuine, so happy, that he tamped
down his irritation and smiled widely at her.
“Friends,” she echoed, and clinked
her mug to his.
How the hell he managed to swallow
he’d never know. Just like he didn’t know why he felt a little down, a little
deflated. It wasn’t like there was actually anything to be inflated about, was
there? Damn, he needed Alan right now. No, he needed someone to talk to who
didn’t have his head screwed on slightly sideways. The only advice he’d get
from his idiot friend would be dirty and screwed.
Taking off his glasses, he
polished them on his shirt. Maybe he should just go home, have a cold shower,
find some common sense in his peaceful garden with SJ for uncomplicated company.
“Hey, man.” Ed entered the
kitchen.
Welcome diversion. “Hey, Ed. How’re
you feeling?”
“Like shit this morning, but not
too bad now.”
The skinny, tattoo-laden bloke was
still a little pale, but apart from that, he looked normal.
Crossing to the table, Ed grabbed
Sam’s hand and shook it. “Thanks for last night, man. Really appreciate it.”
“No worries.”
“Shitty thing to do to Carly.” Ed
ruffled her hair, skilfully avoiding her hand when she went to slap his.
Sam slipped his glasses back on
and crunched into another biscuit. “You had a rough day.”
“She told you?”
“Only that you’d had a rough day.”
“She’s a good kid.” Pulling out a
chair, Ed flopped down into it.
Carly rolled her eyes. “Thank
you,
Uncle
Ed.”
“She doesn’t deserve to have to
put up with that kind of thing.”
Interested despite himself, Sam
waited, but when Ed said nothing further, he switched his gaze to Carly. She only
shrugged.
One thing he was discovering was
that she didn’t open up easily to people, so he guessed if he wanted to know
what had happened to Ed, he’d have to wait and see, because sure as God made
green apples, he wasn’t going to ask. He never pried into people’s business
and he wasn’t about to start now.
Friends respected friends’
privacy.
Friends
. There was that word again. It was a good word.
Yes, it was a good word. Friend. So he wasn’t sure why he wanted to grimace a
little when he thought about it.
Man, he must be coming down with
something, or maybe it was the tea making him a little jittery.
“By the way,” Ed said casually, “you
know a tall redhead?”
“No,” Sam replied.
“Va-va-voom figure?”
It kind of sounded familiar…
“Because there’s one standing at
your front door.”
Okay, that kind of rang a bell…
“She’s looking pretty pissed off,
too.”
The ringing of the bell became a
clanging of warning. “Uh-oh.” Sam, sprang to his feet. “Shit!”
Ed grinned widely.
Startled, Carly pushed upright.
“Is everything all right, Sam?”
“Damn it. My date!”
Dorothy!
Saturday night! Oh shit
. “Sorry, gotta go.”
Feeling like an idiot and a prick
all rolled into one, Sam hurried from the house and across the street. Yep,
Dorothy was standing on his veranda, her arms folded and one high-heeled foot
tapping angrily as she watched him run across the road.
The smile she forced didn’t quite
reach her eyes. “Sam?”
“Sorry. Sorry.” He patted her
shoulder, slid the key into the lock and opened the door, stepping back and placing
a hand at her elbow to usher her inside.
Walking ahead of him, she cast him
a look over her shoulder. “Did you forget about our date?”
“What? Of course not. Just some personal
business to take care of.” Resisting the urge to push her into the lounge, he
politely gestured. “Take a seat while I get ready, I promise I’ll only be a
few minutes.”
SJ was sitting on the sofa and Sam
was sure the cat had a look of derision on his face as he regarded Sam. Not
that he could blame him. Jesus, who forgot their date? What kind of a bloke was
he?
Oh, that’s right, one who hadn’t
wanted this date.
Cursing silently, he threw on
clean slacks and a button down shirt, jerking on socks and lace-up shoes,
pocketing his wallet and running a comb through his hair and tying it back
neatly at the nape.
Longingly, he looked at his
discarded sneakers, shorts and t-shirt. Man, he’d had plans to flop outside on
the lawn chair and watch the stars come out. Dorothy wasn’t the kind of girl
to enjoy that, no, she had a movie in mind, probably followed by dinner.
Ignoring SJ, who did all but sneer
at him from his prime position on the sofa, Sam ushered Dorothy out the front
door and down the steps, gallantly holding out his elbow for her to slide her
hand through, rewarded by her smile and snuggling into his side as they walked
to his car.
Shutting her car door after she’d
taken a seat inside, he glanced across the roof to see Carly sitting in a chair
under the tree, a glass of something cold in her hand, while Ed tinkered on his
motorbike in the driveway and Crusher jumped after a butterfly.
Man, that was the life. He had a
longing to go over there and sit beside Carly, watching the stars come out, chatting
about anything or nothing. He just knew he’d have enjoyed that a whole lot
more than going to a movie with a woman he didn’t really want to take on a
date.
“Sam?” Dorothy called.
Rousing from his wishful thinking,
Sam leaned down to peer at her through the window. “Yes?”
“We need to get a move on,” she said
a trifle impatiently.
“Of course.” Striding around the
car, he got into the driver’s seat and started the engine.
Reaching across, she placed a cool
hand on his upper arm and squeezed. “I just know this evening is going to
be…enlightening.”
“Really?” He blinked at her. “Is
the movie a documentary?”
She blinked back at him. “What?”
“Enlightening, you said.”
Dorothy stared at him for several
seconds before shaking her head slightly. “I meant afterwards.”
“We’re going to a museum or
something after?”
Slowly, she sat back, and he could
have sworn he heard her mutter, “Lucky you’re good-looking.”
Smiling inwardly, he put the car
in gear and reversed out onto the road. Oh yeah, people thought he was a
little on the thick side, but he saw more than they realised. He might be
forced into this date, but he was going to ensure it stopped well before they returned
to his house. If that meant playing as thick as two bricks, it was a small
price to pay. No way was he going to be ‘enlightened’ by Dorothy. No way.
He couldn’t miss Ed’s laughing
expression, but he didn’t care, not when Carly smiled at him and waved. He
waved back and turned to face the front again, grinning widely until he
realised that Dorothy was glaring daggers at him.
Oops.
But he wouldn’t have missed
Carly’s smile for all the enlightenment in the world.
It was the simple pleasures in
life that counted.
~*~
The next week was busy, but Carly
was happier than she’d been in a long time. On the way home, she parked in
the supermarket car park and went to the bank, moving along the street and
paying a couple of bills. By the time she finished most of the people had left
for the evening and the parking bays were deserted.
Stopping beside her car, she
searched in her small bag for her car key.
“Hello, Carly.”
She knew that voice, the charm,
the so-fake niceness. Spinning around, fury filled her when she saw him
standing behind her, a medium-sized man, good-looking, neatly dressed in a business
suit and tie. “Jonathon.”
He smiled at her, oozing charm,
but the coldness of his eyes didn’t bode well. If only she’d recognised the
nastiness they foretold before it had been too late. If only she hadn’t been
blinded by his suave words and seemingly nice personality. Big mistake.
But now she knew, and she didn’t
want anything to do with him. Turning back to the car, she started to fit her
key into the lock, only to have his hand reaching around to grab the keys from
her.
In time, she snatched her hand
away, swinging around to face him. “What the hell do you want?”
“There’s no need for that
attitude.” He looked down at her, the smell of alcohol on his breath. “You’re
looking good.”
“What do you want?” she repeated.
“Why would you think I want
something? Can’t an old friend say hello?”
She scowled. “We were never old
friends. And we’re definitely not friends now.”
“Oh, come on, sweetheart. Don’t
be like that.”
“I have nothing to say to you.” She
turned back to the car door again, wanting to leave. Anger bubbled inside her,
anger at both herself for being such a blind fool and at Jonathon for being
such a lying, using bastard.
He touched her arm, his hand
lingering, caressing, and she jerked away sharply. “Don’t touch me. You make
me sick.”
“You didn’t think so before.”
“Before?” Shoving the key into
the lock, she unlocked the door. “Before what, Jonathon? Before you cheated
on me? Before you made me a laughing stock? Before I - oh, what did you call
it? Provide you with an ‘amusing diversion?’” Jerking the key from the lock,
she grabbed the door handle. “Shove off, Jonathon. I don’t want to see you
again.”
Grabbing her arm, he prevented her
from opening the door, leaning closer so that he blocked the way. Slowly, his
gaze ran over her face and lower, his expression lewd. “I always liked how you
ran hot.”
“I’m disgusted that it ever did,”
she hissed. “But I’ve moved on. Now
go away
.”
He looked back at her face. “Not
until we discuss something.”
“I’ve nothing to discuss with
you.”
“I say we do.” Reaching out, he placed
his hand on her shoulder and shoved her hard against the car door.
Heart starting to hammer at the distinct
cruel look on his face, an expression she’d come to recognise too late, Carly
glanced around frantically for help, but the car park was now empty, the only cars
visible those in the staff parking bay partially hidden behind the
supermarket. Early evening and the business section was quiet.
Only a miracle would help her
now. Even so, she clenched her teeth, looked him right in the eyes and hissed,
“Let go or I’ll scream.”
“And who will hear you?” He
pressed closer, using his body to pin her to the car door. “Anyone passing
will think this is a lover’s tryst. After all, no man, no matter how
desperate, is going to be attacking a fatty in a car park, are they? No, even
the nastiest of criminals would give someone like you a wide berth.”
Deliberately cruel, that was his
way. It shouldn’t hurt, she now knew what he was like, yet his words cut. But
she wasn’t going to show it, wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.
Looking at him with disdain, all
the while trying to still her thundering heart, she said calmly, with just a
touch of a tremor, “Always an arsehole, Jonathon. You’ll never change.”
He sneered. “Still got a smart
mouth on you, I see.”