The Girl in the Yellow Vest (40 page)

‘Er, are we going out?’

‘No.’ She smiled.

‘ ’Cause I can change.’ He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. Personally, she thought he looked delicious just the way he was in jeans and a T-shirt, smelling fresh from the shower. She still couldn’t get over how much his lack of facial hair really revealed how masculine his features were. At her lack of response, he nodded more decisively. ‘Yes, we should go out. Probably safer. I’ll go get changed.’

She laughed. ‘You’re not going anywhere.’ She grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him inside so that their bodies bumped. (Another great tip from the internet.) ‘I just felt like dressing up tonight, that’s all.’ She nudged him in the ribs. ‘I never get any wear out of this dress.’

His Adam’s apple jerked. ‘Right.’ He turned and marched determinedly into the kitchen. ‘What’s for dinner?’ He lifted the lid of the pot and seemed relieved to note its ordinary contents.

‘Just pasta,’ she said.

‘Great. I’m famished.’

Use some innuendo here.
She licked her lips, sidled up beside him and then looked up like he was a big warrior just in from battle. ‘
Hungry
, are you?’

‘Y-yeah.’ He drew out the word slowly and uncertainly. ‘Didn’t I just say that?’

‘I guess so,’ she muttered, feeling dumb. Her eyes darted away and caught the bottles of wine resting on the counter beside the stove. Best to get the mood juice flowing. She grabbed one by its stem. ‘Wine?’

‘No thanks.’

What?
Her head snapped up sharply. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yep.’

‘Because I’ve heard this one’s pretty good.’ She hoped her tone didn’t sound too desperate. She glanced at the bottle and plucked an attribute at random. ‘It’s made at Mount Tamborine.’

‘Really? Where’s that?’

She had no idea. ‘Er, somewhere.’

He laughed. ‘I’ll pass. I’m happy just to skip to the main course. Love your pasta.’

Damn it!
She should have served baked beans.

‘Okay.’ She put the wine down and tried to emulate the way he was standing, which was kind of half leaning on the kitchen counter with one foot crossed in front of the other.

‘Um . . .’ He looked at her strangely. ‘Are we waiting for someone else?’

‘No,’ she said quickly and, in her haste to move on, turned around and stuck her hand out behind her. ‘Come on, let’s set the table.’ She had meant him to take her offered palm. Instead, he walked straight into it and she grabbed a fistful of –

‘Eeek!’ She snatched her hand away, spinning full circle and backing up till she hit the opposite bench. ‘Sorry! I didn’t mean to do that.’

‘That’s all right –’

‘It was a complete accident.’

‘Em, it’s okay,’ he said, even though his face was a rather alarming shade of red. She didn’t think she was faring too well either in terms of colour. She might be trying to seduce him, but she wasn’t
that
forward.

‘I was reaching for your hand,’ she tried to explain.

That gave him pause. ‘But you never take my hand.’

‘I did on the Adventure Pontoon last weekend,’ she said softly.

For a moment he just looked at her in stunned silence before reaching across the stove and picking up the bottle he had rejected only seconds earlier. ‘I’ve changed my mind about the wine. Do you have glasses?’

Awesome.

‘Sure.’ She strolled across the kitchen to open a drawer. ‘I also know there’s a bottle opener in here somewhere.’

‘Right,’ he said, all business. ‘While you’re finding it, I’ll fill two bowls with our dinner.’

They each completed their separate tasks. She found two glasses and filled them. As he was still dishing out pasta, she quickly gulped down some of her wine and then refilled her glass again. She could do with some Dutch courage. The fruity elixir from Mount Tamborine certainly went straight to her head, giving her a much-needed sense of lightness. By that time, Will had walked around the counter to the other side where her small round dining table for four was located. He placed the bowls there and she brought over the wine.

He sat down and determinedly attacked his meal with eyes downcast.

She cleared her throat but he didn’t look up.

‘So,’ she drawled, trying to slide sexily into her chair, ‘what did you think of the shiploader installation today?’ As she was speaking a thread of her dress caught on some cane that must have been sticking out of the woven seat. The chair rocked slightly. She caught the edge of the table with both hands and managed to steady herself before the chair completely went over.

‘I thought it was awesome.’ He finally looked up, catching her frozen in this position after the near miss. ‘You okay?’

‘Fine,’ she choked, praying she hadn’t ripped her dress.
Okay, regroup. Regroup!
She pulled her bowl towards her, took a fortifying sip of wine and then copied the way Will had one arm lying beside it. The conversation dipped into their usual companionable silence broken only by the sound of their cutlery and the clinking of their glasses after they were lifted and set back down on the table again.

‘Do you know why Caesar ran off at the end?’ she asked some minutes later. ‘It seemed really odd of him.’

Will’s brow wrinkled in a way that she hadn’t realised until now she found endearing. ‘Something to do with Lottie, I think. We were talking about her when he suddenly decided to go.’

Impulsively, she reached across the table and laid her hand over his. ‘I love how you’re so intuitive with people.’

It was the truth, but she got the impression that she’d said too much. He looked at her like she’d just sprouted antennae and dragged his hand slowly back across the table from underneath hers.

‘Er, thanks.’

She glanced at her abandoned palm stretched too far across the table into his space and hastily pulled it back.
Strike three! Am I out?

She gnawed on her lower lip like it was cheap squid. How could she have imagined that this would be easy? Or that he would even go along with it? Will was her best friend. This was going to be the hardest and scariest thing she’d ever attempted. She shoved her hand in her lap.
Don’t make any more sudden moves.

They ate in silence for a few minutes and she concentrated on her breathing, which was irrationally shallow.
Calm down.

‘So you want seconds?’

She looked up in surprise to see that he had already finished everything in his bowl. The question seemed moot given her bowl was still full. ‘Um, no thanks.’

He got up to get himself some more pasta from the kitchen, leaving her stewing at the table by herself. It was very hard to know where to go from here.

Will sat down at the table again, shovelling in another mouthful of pasta.

‘Okay,’ she began firmly, ‘I’d like to talk about kissing.’

Will choked on his penne, grabbed the glass of wine sitting near his bowl and chugged furiously. ‘I beg your pardon?’

What was going on with her tonight?

And why wasn’t this alcohol dulling his senses like it was supposed to? He was on fire and had to curb every impulse to cross his legs.

Em in her scruffy tracky dacks looked scrumptious to him. But dealing with her in this get-up was an exercise in self-control. She looked amazing. The way her hair brushed her dimple when she smiled made him literally ache. She cupped her chin and leaned forwards on the table in an intimate way.

‘I am
single
now.’ She put great emphasis on the word, making his ears tingle like a cymbal that had just been smashed. ‘
And
about start dating again.’

‘Uh-huh.’ He hoped he sounded tuned out rather than turned on.

She didn’t pause for breath. ‘After being in a relationship for five years I can’t help but feel a little rusty on the protocols.’

‘There are protocols?’ he squeaked.

‘Aren’t there?’ She tilted her head to one side, exposing the long kissable line from ear lobe to collarbone. ‘You’re a guy –’

‘Nice of you to notice,’ he croaked.

‘It would be great to get a few free pointers on the male perspective.’

Rule number 1. You don’t consider dating your best mate’s girlfriend.

Rule number 2. Even if they’re on a break.

Rule number 3. Even if she’s the love of your life.

Rule number 4. Even if she’s your soulmate.

Satisfied that this comprehensive list of rules should (in theory) keep him in check, he took another fortifying sip of white wine.

‘Like, for example,’ her mouth twisted, ‘what sort of kiss do you think is appropriate for the first date? On the cheek,’ she tapped that area of her face, ‘or on the lips?’ She pressed her finger there too.

What was rule number 1 again?

He looked at his empty glass. ‘I think I need more wine.’

‘Me too,’ she said and stood up just a smidgen faster than he did. ‘I’ll get it. I’m closer.’

She turned around and walked back towards the kitchen. His eyes narrowed on her delectable rear end, but with more reason than its obvious allure. There appeared to be a tear in the back of her dress just under the zipper.

He was privileged with a peek at a pair of pink polka-dot knickers. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. His overloaded senses were now completely fried. He had to get out of there before he did something he’d regret. He stood up as she was bringing the bottle back.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I’m leaving.’

‘But we haven’t finished dinner yet.’

He glanced at his bowl. ‘Well, I have, and it’s going to be an early start tomorrow so . . .’

She put the bottle down, with a frown. ‘Will, the shiploader is in. No one’s going to care if you even show up. What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing.’

She put her hands on her hips. ‘Yes there is. Tell me what’s going on.’

‘Well, for a start, I can see your knickers,’ he blurted.

‘
W-what?
’ Both her hands whipped around to her bum. She must have felt the tear because she threw back her head with a provocative moan and her eyes closed. ‘It needed only that.’

He glanced away from her exposed throat. ‘What do you mean?’

A chuckle gurgled up her windpipe that turned into full-blown laugh. Only it wasn’t a reassuring sound. It was the cackle of a crazy person, one part futility, the other part hysteria.

‘Em, are you okay?’ He reached for her arms just as she straightened and his fingers brushed the sides of her breasts. ‘Oh shit, I’m
so
sorry.’ He yelped like he’d stuck his hand in a fire. ‘I didn’t mean to – I was just trying to – I –’

His broken apology only made her laugh all the harder. ‘No, that’s all right,’ she cried. ‘It’s not like I didn’t grab your penis first.’

‘
Em!
’

‘Well, it’s the truth, isn’t it?’ she hiccupped. ‘Along with all the other mistakes I’ve made tonight. I can’t win with you, can I, Will?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he muttered, running his hands through his hair.

‘That’s the problem exactly,’ she said sadly. ‘You have no idea.’

‘Then you might as well lay it on me,’ he said.

For some reason her shoulders shook again. ‘I thought you’d never ask.’

Her lips trembling with mirth, she grabbed his face between her palms and, standing on tiptoe, pressed her mouth to his.

He’d daydreamed of this moment for so long that now that it was actually happening it seemed kind of surreal and his body stiffened in shock.

‘Sorry, sorry,’ she muttered in stricken tones. ‘I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?’ She would have pulled away if he hadn’t grabbed her face before she moved more than an inch.

‘No,’ he rasped. And they stood there for a moment holding each other’s faces, their mouths mere centimetres apart, their eyes unable to break connection. He let forth a deep breathy sigh. He didn’t care any more about anything except her and this particular moment that he’d thought would never come. ‘The first kiss was bound to be awkward,’ he whispered.

‘Really?’ she whispered back.

He nodded, curling her hair behind one ear. ‘After all, we’ve known each other for such a long time and we’ve never done this before.’