The Lawson Boys: Alex (17 page)

Thrusting his
hand through his hair, he was about to sit up when something
brushed against his chin. Lifting his hand higher, he saw a long
strand of hair caught around his watch strap.

Black hair.

Harly’s
hair.

Everything came
rushing back in a heartbeat, and he stretched and grinned. Oh yeah,
last night had been something, all right.

Rolling onto
his side, he reached for her only to find the bed beside him empty.
Sitting up, he looked around. There was no sight of her in the
bedroom. “Harly?” When silence greeted him, he swung out of bed,
calling louder, “Harly?” There was no answer.

Dressing
quickly, he wondered if she was in the kitchen and couldn’t hear
him, but when he went there, it too was empty.

“Harly? Where
are you?” he called out.

A search of the
house revealed one thing only - Harly was gone.

Six

The chill in
the air was slowly giving away to more bearable warmth as the sun
chased it away, but Harly’s breath still came out in whispers of
vapour as she walked along the side of the road.

Buffy sedately
followed, stopping now and again to investigate a smell. Sunny
gambolled around, jumping in and out of bushes, chasing things that
Harly was pretty certain existed only in the cat’s imagination.

What definitely
wasn’t imagination was what had happened between her and Alex
during the night. Just the memory was enough to make Harly’s heart
quicken, her hands tremble a little, and a little shiver of heat
low in her belly.

One minute
she’d been comforting him, a man mourning the loss of a best mate
who’d been a brother in all but name and blood, and the next thing
he’d been holding her in his arms, taking over, playing her body
with the mastery of an expert lover.

Well, she
certainly hadn’t much experience to go on, but God above, she was
pretty bloody certain that Alex Lawson was an expert love maker.
Heaven knew that when he was here as a teenager the rumours were
about more than just his impeccable, charmingly old-fashioned
manners, and those rumours were fact.

The Lawson boy
might have impressed the older women with his manners, but he’d
topped that by making a couple of girls actually swoon naked in his
arms, of that Paul had told her was true. Knowing what she did of
Alex, she’d never been surprised.

Looked like she
was now one of those girls.

That thought
sobered her. Of course she was one of the girls now. In fact, she’d
become one of those girls that night sixteen years ago when she’d
been swept along by his mastery even at his tender age of
seventeen. She could still remember that night, it was a magical
one she’d tucked deep in her mental chest of pleasure.

He’d been so
concerned, so caring, and when he’d sat her down on the sofa with
that hot cup of Milo, sitting beside her and patting her hand, his
gaze so earnest, his intentions so sincere, his low, reassuring
words tore down her defences and she’d told him her biggest secret
- she’d never been kissed and didn’t expect that she ever would,
and, of course, that had simply made Alex step forward manfully.
One gentle kiss, another, still another, each one a little hotter,
a little deeper. Before she’d known what had happened, she’d been
swept away in a tide of passion and Alex had taken her virginity.
They’d barely had time to catch their breaths and realise what had
happened before her parent’s car had sounded in the driveway and
Alex had made a getaway through her window.

The rest was
history.

With a sigh,
she opened the gate and waited for Sunny and Buffy to go
through.

Well, she’d
ended up in bed with Alex last night and he’d rocked her world, but
as corny as the saying sounded, it was absolutely true. An older
Alex, more experienced, more masterful, taking charge and pushing
her up to heights she’d never believed truly existed. Now she knew
and she wondered if she’d ever be able to put him to the back of
her mind again. Nothing was exactly the same anymore. And where did
it leave them now?

Nowhere,
really. In a couple of weeks he’d be heading back to the city and
from there to the Army and probably deployed overseas. And she’d be
here, existing in her own little world, once again alone.

It wasn’t being
alone that seemed so depressing. She didn’t mind being by herself,
doing her own thing, in fact she enjoyed it. It was not having Alex
in her life in some way.

Maybe she could
write to him. Keep in touch.

Be his bit of
fluff on the side?

She smiled
ironically. Alex met many beautiful women on his travels, bright
women, amusing, talented. What would he possibly need with a woman
like her living in a backwater town and liking her solitude, happy
to see him come, happy to wait for him?

And what was
producing these thoughts anyway? It was one night, one love making
session. A comfort that had turned into something more. Sex. That
was all. It had never happened before with any other man, but
regardless, that was all it was.

She wondered if
he was awake, and if so, what was she going to say to him?

Walking up the
drive, she glanced up at the house to see him standing on the
veranda, leaning against a post with his ankles crossed and his
arms folded across his chest.

Her breath
hitched. By the look of it, his hair had been roughly finger
combed, a blonde lock falling over his forehead. Combined with the
open flannel shirt over the t-shirt that didn’t hide the outline of
hard muscle beneath, it gave him a slightly roguish appearance.

His gaze was
trained on her the whole time she walked up the driveway to the
house.

Coming to a
stop at the foot of the steps leading up onto the veranda, she
looked up at him, deciding to try for polite and friendly, choosing
to ignore the blush that burned her cheeks at the memory of those
eyes burning down into hers as he’d positioned her beneath him and
then brought them both to heights of ecstasy.

She might have
tried to maintain her coolness, but the image made her sound a
little breathless as she greeted him. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.”
His gaze swept over her, lingering on her bountiful breasts and
generous hips before gliding back up to meet her eyes. He smiled,
his eyes crinkling at the corners.

What that did
to her insides was not mentionable. Placing one foot on the bottom
step, she began to advance up the steps. “I’ll put some coffee on.”
Because that’s what one did when face-to-face with the man who’d,
well…rocked her world. Or shagged her senseless, as Maryanne would
say.

No way in hell
was she saying
anything
to Maryanne.

She’d just
drawn level with Alex when he grabbed her around the waist, pulled
her close, and smothered her startled squawk in a deep, hot kiss
that had her gasping for air when he finally released her.

“Yeah,” he
drawled, watching her through half closed eyes which did nothing to
hide the glint of satisfaction within them. “Coffee would be good.
I’ll just clean Buffy’s paws and then we’ll be in.”

In delicious
shock, Harly mutely stepped up onto the veranda, toed off her muddy
sneakers and walked into the house, her thick socks muffling any
sound on the hall runner. Sunny pranced along behind her, detouring
off into the lounge room and her usual position on the sofa.

Holy smoke!
Alex had kissed her!

Not quite
knowing what to think, she entered the kitchen and filled the jug,
plugging it into the power socket. Hungry from the walk, she put
the toaster on the bench and took the loaf of bread out of the
bread bin. Popping two slices into the toaster, she pressed the
lever down and then braced her hands on the bench and leaned back a
little.

She had no
freakin’ idea what was happening. What did that kiss mean anyway?
It was more than a good morning kiss. Maybe it was a ‘thank you’
kiss? No, too hot for that. Thank you kisses didn’t involve tongue.
Maybe he thought they could pick up where they’d left off?

“Not going
there,” she muttered. “No condoms.” And no bravery. Having sex with
Alex in the shadows and lamp light of the night was one thing, but
baring herself to him in the cold light of day was a whole other
story.

The toast
popped up, making her jump, and with a sigh she placed them on a
plate and reached for more bread.

Alex entered
the kitchen as the second lot of toast popped up. “Are you all
right?”

Realising that
she’d been just standing there staring at the toast, Harly replied
quickly, “Of course. Just thinking.” Buttering the toast, she
handed him the plate without looking up. “There’s jam and Vegemite
and stuff in the cupboard. Help yourself.”

He took both
plates to the table while she poured two mugs of coffee, adding
milk and sugar to hers and leaving his strong and black the way he
preferred.

Placing the
mugs on the table, she sat down opposite him and proceeded to
spread a thin layer of Vegemite on her toast, strongly aware of
Alex spreading thick layers of jam on his toast.

Okay, what
should she say? They couldn’t sit in silence while they ate, she
avoiding looking at him while he studied her, and boy was she more
than aware of his gaze.

“Penny for your
thoughts,” he finally said quietly.

Slowly screwing
the cap on the Vegemite jar, she replied slowly and truthfully,
“I’m not sure what to think.”

“Because of
last night.” He took a bite of toast.

Looking up, she
saw that he was watching her with mild curiosity on his face. Okay,
if he could be calm about this, then so could she. After all, she
was an adult.

She cut her
toast in halves. “What happened last night?” There was no way she
could avoid the blush that heated her cheeks. “I mean, I know what
happened-”

Damn the man,
he was grinning slightly and his vivid blue eyes were
twinkling.

Harly drew a
deep, steadying breath. “I mean,
why
did it happen?”

His gaze
remained steady. “Attraction.”

“Attraction?”
Maybe on her side, yeah, hell yeah in fact, but on his side? She
wasn’t so certain.

“Is that so
hard to accept?”

“It’s a
little…well, face it, Alex, I’m not your type of girl.”

“And what is my
type of girl?” He seemed genuinely curious again.

“I don’t know.
The type you dated when you came for holidays.”

He looked at
her blankly.

“The notches on
your bedpost?” she asked with a touch of irony. “You do remember
them, don’t you?”

That grin
curved his lips again, only this time it was a big grin. “Notches
on my bedpost? How much TV do you watch? And what kind of
programs?”

A little
irritated, she took a bite of toast and chewed while regarding him
with one eyebrow arched.

“All right.”
Alex swallowed the last bite of his first slice of toast and took a
sip of coffee. “I dated a few girls when I came here, sure-”

Harly gave an
indelicate snort.

That twinkle
just continued to light up his eyes. “But I didn’t date them
all
.”

“Enough to know
you had a type.”

“I did? Do
tell.”

“The best
looking girls in the town. You got beaten up enough for it by their
boyfriends.”

“Oh, that’s an
exaggeration.” He wagged a finger at her. “Has Paul been telling
whoppers again?”

“Are you
seriously trying to tell me that he was lying?”

“Paul
exaggerated everything back then. He loved spreading rumours.”

“So you’re
telling me you didn’t date and bed the girls back then when you
were a randy teenager?”

“No, I’m not
telling you any such thing. I’m telling you my conquests were
greatly exaggerated. I didn’t bed
all
the girls I dated,
either.”

“Gosh, that
makes all the difference then.”

“Do I detect a
note of disbelief, Miss Bentley?”

“Just a little,
Mr Lawson.” She spread her arms out to each side. “Just a teensy
weensy bit.”

“Sad.” He shook
his head. “Very sad.”

She couldn’t
help but laugh.

Smiling, she
finished off her first slice of toast, feeling at ease.

Right until he
broke the comfortable silence. “I didn’t always date the best
looking girls in town.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And the last
girl I made love to here wasn’t regarded by the Whicha teenage boys
as the best looking in town, either.”

A cold wash
drained the warmth and humour from her, her gaze falling to her
plate. From the past she could almost feel that humiliation reach
for her, and it took all she had to hold it back.

“They were
fools,” he stated quietly. “They didn’t see what a treasure was
right before their noses.”

Startled, she
looked up at him.

“No one really
saw you, Harly. They didn’t see the gentle soul behind the shy
demeanour, the sweetness.” All laughter was gone from his eyes and
he leaned forward, reaching out to lay his hand on hers where it
rested on the table.

His palm was
warm, hard calluses abrading her skin, but his grip as he curled
his fingers around hers was almost protective.

“I don’t think
I was that sweet,” Harly stammered, unable to think of anything
else to say. “Shy, yes, but-”

“You picked up
the stray kittens and puppies, you helped at the local animal
shelter, you ran errands for your elderly neighbours, and you were
always the first one there when a kid younger than you fell and
skinned their knee. Their muddy hands and dirty faces never stopped
you from picking them up, dusting them off and sending them
laughing on their way.” His thumb caressed the top of her hand
lightly. “I saw it, Harly, but it wasn’t until I was older that I
realized what a treasure you were. I was a fool not to really see
you back then. But teenagers can be fools, we’re ruled by our
hormones and egos. Such is life.”