The Lawson Boys: Alex (13 page)

“So I see.”
Taking a step back, he knocked his sodden cap against his leg once
more.

Realising that
he meant to go out into the storm, Harly stepped forward
instinctively. “You can’t go.”

Almost
instantly he tensed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she
reassured him, “But it’s teeming down. It’s not safe for you to go
out there.”

“I made it
here, I’ll make it back to Paul’s.”

“Don’t be
stupid. What if you have an accident?”

“I won’t.”

“You can’t know
that.”

“I made it
through the war so far, didn’t I?” His mouth quirked up at the
corner.

Annoyance
flickered through Harly. “Don’t be so bloody stupid. You’re not
immortal.”

The sudden
silence on the veranda was broken only by the pounding of the rain
on the roof. If silence could be heavy, that’s exactly what it was
on the veranda.

The expression
on Alex’s face was inscrutable, but Harly was damned if she was
going to allow him to go back out in the storm, regardless of how
indestructible he thought he was, which was plain ridiculous.

Stepping out
onto the veranda, she grabbed his cap and hung it up on a hook on
the wall, then walked around behind him and grabbed the collar of
his rain coat. “Come on, hero, get out of it.”

For several
seconds he remained still and she thought he was going to shrug off
her hands, but suddenly he swung his arms back and the rain coat
slid off.

Hanging it up
on another hook, she ordered, “Take off your shoes and leave them
out here, they’re safe from the rain.”

Without a word
he obeyed, toeing off his sneakers and placing them just out of
drip-reach of the rain coat.

“Come on.”
Opening the security door, she waited for him to precede her.

Moving level
with her, he stopped and looked down at her. Standing so close, she
felt the heat radiating out from his body, that clean, male scent
titillating her senses.

It was his gaze
that captured her, though. His eyes, that brilliant blue that
darkened slightly as he leaned a little closer and inhaled deeply,
as though sucking in her scent, which was just ridiculous, really,
because why would he do such a thing?

With the rain
teeming down outside the protection of the veranda and the
closeness of Alex towering over her, she felt oddly as though if
they were standing outside, he’d be sheltering her from the
storm.

It was a
strange thought, a weird feeling, but one that nevertheless slid
through her with a warmth she couldn’t explain.

Reaching above
her, he placed his hand on the security door. “After you,
Harly.”

“Seriously,
Alex, you were the one driving in this downpour, surely you can go
first just this once.”

“Nothing will
ever make me put myself before you.” The reply was as steady as his
gaze.

Knowing nothing
would deter him, she ducked under his arm and entered the house,
feeling the heat of him at her back as he followed. As she
continued down the hall towards the kitchen, she heard the snick of
the security screen lock followed by the soft thud of the wooden
door shutting.

Shaking her
head at his continued old world manners regardless of the
circumstances, she entered the kitchen and rounded the bench to
switch on the kettle. Placing two mugs on the bench, she watched as
Alex came into the kitchen, stopping in the doorway to glance
around before looking at her. Buffy was at his feet and he carried
a purring Pepper in his arms.

The sight made
Harly relax and she smiled. “Tea or coffee?”

“Coffee.”

“Strong and
black.” She nodded at the table. “Sit down and rest.”

Brows raised,
Alex did so, settling Pepper on his lap and stroking her back
gently. “I don’t actually need to rest.” Buffy laid her chin on his
knee and he stroked the old dog’s head as gently as he did the old
cat.

“Driving
through that storm wouldn’t exactly be relaxing,” she retorted.
“Becky shouldn’t have sent you. This isn’t the first time I’ve been
out here when the power and telephone has gone out.”

“The power
isn’t out yet.”

“Don’t split
hairs,” she said a trifle tartly.

A small smile
curved his lips, making the little wrinkles at the corner of his
eyes peep out.

She glanced at
him. “It was foolhardy coming out here.”

His smile
widened. “Becky didn’t send me. I chose to come.”

“Idiot.”

His eyes
twinkled. “Most ladies would be charmed that I’d come to their
rescue.”

“I’m not a lady
and I don’t need rescuing. You, however…” She stabbed a finger in
his direction. “You might have needed rescuing if you’d ended up in
a ditch somewhere.”

“But I didn’t,
and here I am.” Pepper arched her head back as he tickled her under
the chin. “I’ve driven in worse conditions.”

“In a tank, no
doubt.”

His burst of
laughter was infectious, and she couldn’t help but smile even while
still shaking her head.

“Idiot,” she
repeated.

“Marty would
have said worse.” He nodded his thanks as she placed a mug of hot
coffee in front of him. “So I’ll happily accept your version.”

For the first
time since he’d come to town she realised how relaxed he was,
sitting at her table with an old cat on his lap and an old dog now
settled at his sock-clad feet. It was odd that he would be relaxed
in her home.

Sitting across
from him, she placed the little plate of biscuits in the middle of
the table.

“This is really
cosy.” He glanced around.

“I like it.”
Taking a biscuit, she dunked it in her tea.

“You enjoy
being by yourself?” Taking a biscuit, he also dunked it in his
coffee.

“It’s not such
a bad thing.” She shrugged. “Solitude can be very restful. It’s a
way to recharge my batteries before facing the demands of the
world.”

“Yeah.” His
gaze became distant as he ate the biscuit.

She wondered if
he was thinking of the war or his family. While he was lost in his
thoughts, she studied him at her leisure.

There was
definitely something different about him. He was relaxed in her
kitchen, it showed in his slouch on the dining room chair, the
relaxed slope of his shoulders, the easing of the tension around
his mouth, the smoothing of the faint frown line on his forehead.
But there was something else, a slight distance in his eyes, a
sadness that made the little lines around them not quite disappear.
Maybe it wasn’t even that. Maybe it was simply that there was
something about him, something in his manner, something that
reached out invisible tendrils to touch her and let her know that
something wasn’t right.

Would he tell
her? And why would he, anyway? He’d come here simply to check on
her safety, something most men she knew wouldn’t have done without
first waiting for the storm to abate.

“Is everything
okay at Paul and Becky’s?” she asked.

His gaze
sharpened, the distance in them disappearing as he focussed on her.
“Fine, why?”

“You could have
waited until the storm died down before taking such a risk.”

“I told
you-”

“Yeah, I know.
You were all worried. But Paul would have waited until the storm
wasn’t so dangerous. So why didn’t you?” She sipped at the hot tea
while meeting his gaze squarely. “There’s being concerned, and then
there’s being foolhardy.”

He was silent
for so long that she thought he wasn’t going to answer, but finally
he asked, “Am I in the way here?”

It was her turn
to look at him in silence as she weighed his words while trying to
read past the mask that had slipped down over his face.

He simply gazed
at her steadily, awaiting her reply.

“No, you’re
not.” She honestly meant it.

No, she liked
having him here. His presence didn’t intrude on her sense of peace,
not now. She had the weird feeling that she could walk out into the
sewing room and do her sewing, leaving him here in the kitchen, and
not be worried about his presence at all. And seeing what had
happened between them in the past that was downright…weird.

Taking a deep
breath, she repeated, “You’re welcome here, Alex.”

The tension
line on his forehead eased, smoothing out. “I do believe you mean
that.”

“Strangely,
yes.”

The warming of
his eyes was undeniable. “We didn’t exactly get off to a good start
this time around.”

“You reckon?”
She looked around as Chuckie came in yowling. “Don’t fret,
Chuckster, I know it’s nearly your dinner time.”

“I better go,”
Alex said, but he didn’t make a move to stand up.

“Don’t even
think of going in this weather.” Getting out of the chair, she
crossed to the ‘fridge. “I’ll feed the fur-babies and then put on
some stew.”

“Okay.” There
wasn’t even a seconds hesitation before his reply.

Pulling the
glass bowl of ‘roo meat from the ‘fridge, she dished out the bowls
of food and within no time the three cats and Buffy were eating in
the corner of the kitchen.

After placing
vegetables on the bench along with a peeler, vegetable knife and
the chopping board, Harly took the thawed out steak from the
chiller and turned to find Alex standing at the bench peeling the
potatoes.

Fine. He was
going to eat here, he could help. She had no objections.

Going to the
corner of the bench, Harly turned on the CD player and the music
played softly while Alex peeled, washed and chopped the vegetables,
and she diced steak and got it ready with the herbs, garlic and
stock cubes.

They worked
silently, the music and the knives chopping the only sound, and she
marvelled at how at ease she felt. At ease but aware of him. His
large frame in her kitchen was strange, yet it didn’t jar her love
of solitude. His easy movements across her kitchen didn’t feel
intrusive. She didn’t feel self-conscious working in close
proximity with him, this man who had made love to her just once
years ago, the man whose baby she’d carried for nine short weeks
before losing it. The man who’d faced her furiously, then calmly,
and now worked silently in her kitchen.

Working
peacefully side-by-side with Alex Lawson was something she’d never
dreamed would ever happen.

Life did throw
some surprises at times, and this one was a doozy.

“You’re
smiling.”

“Hmmm?” She
glanced up from where she’d lit the gas stove.

Holding the pot
of raw stew, Alex stood next to her. “I like it when you
smile.”

“As opposed to
crying? Or yelling?” Flushing a little, she made to take the pot
from him but he skirted around her reaching hands and placed it on
the flame.

“As in, I like
it when you smile.”

Now she felt a
little self-conscious. “Thanks. I like it when you’re not mad.”
Oops.

“Thanks,” he
replied, deadpan.

A grin quirked
the corners of her lips, his twitched, and they laughed.

Sunny bounded
across the room and jumped up onto the counter. Alex picked her up
and tickled her cheek, and she batted at him with her paws.

“You’re good
with animals,” Harly observed.

“My nephew is
furry.”

Her eyebrows
shot up. “I bet your pardon?”

“Al is my
sister’s kitten. We’re related through her.”

“Ahhh.”

“I've done my
share of bum wiping and bottle feeding.”

Now that really
had her intrigued. “Are we still talking about a cat?”

“Al was about a
day old when Cindy found him.” Alex tickled around Sunny’s ears. “I
babysat him a lot when I was home on leave.”

“An expert in
baby care. A man of many talents. I’m in awe.”

“Trust me, if
you want awe, you have to see Marty with Al. He was willing to use
poor Al to snag a pretty little vet nurse. Cindy soon disabused him
of that idea.”

She laughed. “I
can see Marty hasn’t changed.”

“He’s still a
skirt-chaser.” Alex shrugged. “How he manages to snag so many women
beats me. His reputation just seems to make him more
irresistible.”

“Some women.”
Harly poked his arm as she passed. “He’s rich, handsome and funny.
Of course
some
women are going to chase him.”

He looked at
her knowingly. “But not women like you.”

“Like me?” She
headed out into the hall.

Alex followed
her. “You don’t chase after men like that.”

“I don’t chase
after men full stop.” Going into the sewing room, she checked that
none of the cats were in it, but when she turned to switch off the
light, Alex was right behind her looking around.

“You sew a
lot,” he observed.

“My second
job.”

“But you don’t
want to go into business.” Moving inwards, he lifted the sleeve of
a sequinned top that was draped over a size twenty two dummy and
studied it, turning the sleeve and inspecting the stitching down
the arm. “Neatly done.”

“Thank you.”
Watching him inspect her work, she wondered what he thought. “And
strange of you to notice the quality.”

Picking up a
folded pair of pants, he shook them out carefully and held the
silky fabric up to the light. “You forget, my family are business
orientated and I’ve been in quite a few meetings and seekings.”

“Seekings?”
Watching his fingers slide over the silk, she felt a little shiver
of pleasure go through her.

“I’ve wandered
into dress shops on scouting missions for Mum and Dad. Usually with
Cindy in tow, if it’s a female dress shop.” Carefully refolding the
pants, he laid it on the table and turned to her. “You do top
quality work, Harly. My Dad would be very interested in-”

“No.”

His eyebrows
rose inquiringly.

“No offence,”
Harly said, “but I work for myself. I make clothes women can
afford, and I’m not interested in big overheads and all those
responsibilities that come with it.”