The Lawson Boys: Alex (3 page)

She’d know him
anywhere, regardless of the fact that he was sixteen years older,
had filled out impressively in the shoulders and chest, grown
taller, and had an air of quiet purpose about him.

Alex Lawson was
on her doorstep.

She swallowed.
“Hi.”

“Hi.” He
studied her, his gaze sweeping slowly across her face, lingering on
her eyes and mouth before slipping lower, and she could swear she
felt every hot lick of his calm gaze as it swept down her body,
lingering on her breasts and hips, sweeping down to her neatly-shod
feet before slowly climbing back up until he finally met her eyes
again. “Harly.”

Her inhaled
breath stuttered slightly, heat climbing through her body even
though his vivid blue eyes were so calm and hid his thoughts.
“Alex.”
What were you thinking when you looked at me so - so
thoroughly? Were you…remembering?

It didn’t
matter. Mentally she shook her head, her gaze flickering behind him
to the gloom. “Where’s Paul?”

“I’m collecting
you.”

“You are?”

He nodded.

“Alone?”

“Is that a
problem?”

“What? No. No,
of course not.” Trying to rein in her jumbled thoughts before she
made herself look any more of a dill, she stepped back, pushing the
door further open behind her. “Come in. I’ll only be a minute.”

He walked past
her, pausing for a fraction of a minute to turn his head and look
down at her, making her so conscious of the fact that he’d grown
larger, taller, stronger, since she’d last seen him. The top of her
head barely reached his shoulder.

He smelled
delicious, male, a faint hint of aftershave that was light and
fresh, and he was standing so close to her that she could feel the
heat from his body.

Moving past
her, his gaze swept the hallway, and she closed the door while
studying him in turn and willing her heart to steady its rather
erratic pace. After all this time, he could still affect her.

Dressed in
jeans and a t-shirt, he also wore an open chequered flannel shirt
with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows. Black sneakers
enabled him to walk silently over the runner covering the hall
floor. Blonde hair cut short, military style, and the light from
the hall shone full on his face when he turned to face her.

There was no
denying that Alex was handsome, his features undeniably male with a
hint of hardness to his face, while a few lines bracketed the
corners of his eyes. His mouth was firm, his jaw square.

Hooking his
thumbs into his pockets, she watched the long fingers spread out
over strong thighs. Big hands for a big man, sure hands for a sure
man.

Her gaze jerked
back up to find him studying her just as thoroughly. Again. Only
this time, his eyes were narrowed a little, his head canted
slightly to one side as though trying to read her mind. His gaze
was unnervingly direct.

Danger.

Taking a
deeper, more steadying breath, she managed a smile. “Long time,
Alex.”

“True.” That
gaze just kept boring into her. “A lot can happen.”

“Yes.”
Oh
hell, he couldn’t know, could he?
When he didn’t say anything
further to fill the growing silence between them, she decided to
forge ahead. Now was not the time to make a mistake.

Especially now
she’d met him again and it hadn’t taken her more than several
seconds to figure out that Alex Lawson wasn’t a man to fool. But he
didn’t know, couldn’t know, or he’d have said something. The only
thing she could do was continue as normal.

Picking up the
house keys, Harly strode past him. “I’ll just do a last check and
we can go.”

A last check to
ensure the animals were catered for, the house was securely locked,
and she could get her nerves under control.

Returning to
the hallway, she found Alex waiting silently, his regard of her
steady as she walked towards him.

He didn’t look
at the roll of her overly-generous hips, nor did he stare at her
equally overly-generous breasts. Nope, his gaze was fastened on her
face, in fact, his gaze was boring into her eyes.

But he couldn’t
know. No way could he know. Not after all these years. Not
ever.

Squaring her
shoulders, she passed him and immediately felt him turn and walk
right behind her, so close she could feel the heat from his body as
he almost crowded her.

It made her
move faster, swinging the security screen open and stepping through
quickly, standing to the side so he could pass her.

Silently he
held his hand out.

“What?”
Confused, she looked up at him.

“The key.”

“The key?”

“To lock the
door.”

It came back so
fast, the memory of him always being such a gentleman, making the
teenage girls who met him giddy and giggly, the older women
regarding him with fondness.

Alex had been
brought up with charming and sometimes old fashioned manners.

Silently she
held the key out and he took it between his long fingers. When he
arched one brow at her, she realised that she stood in front of the
door and with an uncustomary blush, she moved aside, watching as he
locked the wooden door, swung the screen shut, and locked it with
quick, efficient moves.

Turning back to
her, he reached out, took her hand in a big, warm grasp that was at
once achingly familiar for a brief second, and she could only gape
as he lifted her hand, turned it over palm-up ,and placed the key
directly in the centre of her palm.

Be still my
beating heart.

He is so
dangerous
…
in more ways than one.

Several silent
seconds passed as they gazed at each other, the silence of the
surroundings seeming to hem them into their own little world where
she was so aware of him, so aware of every breath he took.

He broke the
moment decisively, closing her fingers around the key before
releasing her hand to place one big palm against the small of her
back, turning her with ease to steer her down the steps and over to
his Jeep. Opening the door, he waited politely for her to get into
the seat.

It was all done
in silence with his eyes watching every move she made. He shut the
door with firmness before walking around the Jeep.

Oh yeah, she
thought, watching him walk around to his door and get in, breathing
deep of his scent as he did so, aware even more of him.

He was a
danger. A big danger. But all she had to do was remain silent, say
nothing about it, not even hint at it, and he’d never know.

He was a danger
because if he ever found out what she’d both done and hadn’t done,
that famous temper he had would be sure to let fly, and being on
the receiving end of that temper was something she didn’t plan on
happening to her.

And she
certainly didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his scorn.

It had been her
decision and one she didn’t regret to this day.

Facing Alex
with it was a whole other story.

Two

She wasn’t
going to say anything about it. Alex glanced at her out of the
corner of his eye. Harly Bentley was giving nothing of her thoughts
away in her expression, but her fingers that were linked and
flexing backwards a little, which should have made a cracking sound
but didn’t, was a dead giveaway.

It seemed that
some things hadn’t changed. That hand gesture was so Harly, he
remembered it well from the times he’d been in her company when
around Paul and his various cousins and friends.

Even back then
she’d been quiet, so solemn, her big grey eyes taking everything
in, missing nothing. Big grey eyes that had been so sad at times,
the longing in them plain to see.

But that was
sixteen years ago and this was now. Now Harly was a grown woman and
he wanted answers. Perversely, he wanted her to volunteer them, so
he waited.

He also waited
because seeing her up close again, after all this time, had
awakened something deep inside him, something he’d thought had been
a passing fancy of youth.

He stole
another glance at her as the Jeep passed under the street
lights.

That dark hair
was so glossy, pulled back in a jaunty, no-nonsense ponytail that
just begged to be yanked free and dishevelled.

By his
hands.

Shit,
no.
With a scowl, he jerked those thoughts away and stuffed
them where they belonged. In the mental garbage.

Oh, there was
no denying that Harly had grown into a pretty woman. A big,
beautiful woman, all over-lush curves that she wore with ease, as
though she were a plus-sized model rather than a plus-sized woman
in a small town.

Big difference
there, one was looked at with admiration - of a sorts - the other
was the kind of woman who looked at those models in magazines and
sighed. And wished they were smaller, because face it, not many
real
plus-sized women graced the covers of fashion
magazines. Most of them were a size sixteen or eighteen, nothing
larger.

Nothing in the
size twenty and up.

He glanced
sideways again. The shirt she wore in no way hid her bountiful
chest, in fact, it clung to her breasts like a second skin. He
briefly wondered if she wore fancy underwear like his sister Cindy,
did, or whether Harly wore plain undies.

Not that he
cared.

Taking a deep
breath, he tightened his hands on the steering wheel. Pretty or
not, BBW or not, he was angry with Harly but he’d bide his time. No
jumping straight into this, no, he’d give her time to confess, to
tell him. And if she didn’t, then…well, it wasn’t going to be
pleasant.

“So,” he began
quietly, “What have you been doing with yourself all these
years?”

“Oh, a bit of
this and a bit of that,” she replied, looking at him briefly.

“Waitress.”

“Paul told
you?”

“I happened to
glimpse you as I came into town.”

“Ah. Well, yes,
I do part-time waitressing.”

When she didn’t
volunteer any further information, he drummed his little finger
against the steering wheel. “Anything else?”

She shrugged.
“I make clothes for special orders. Also part-time.”

They continued
on in silence for several minutes before he broke the silence
again. “Are you doing well with the clothes making?”

“Enough to get
by on.” She hesitated before adding, “There’s always a good market
for clothes for big women.”

“Tell me about
it.” He glanced sideways just in time to catch her frown. “I have a
sister, Cindy, remember? She’s a big girl and loves nice clothes.
She’s just lucky enough to be able to afford the best.”

“Nice clothes
are costly.” She gazed out the side window again. “I don’t make
expensive clothes. I make everyday wear.”

“Do you have a
website?”

She laughed,
the sound surprisingly light. “Ever the business man, eh?”

He couldn’t
stop an answering grin. “When not soldiering.”

He felt her
regard almost instantly.

“And how does
that work for you?” she asked curiously. “You’re a soldier, yet
part of the family business?”

“Only a very
small part.” He switched on the indicator and turned into Paul’s
street. “When I’m home on leave, I help a bit.”

“How?”

“Whatever the
family wants done.” He shrugged. “It could be anything from
researching companies to checking backgrounds, which Cindy normally
does, to attending meetings and weighing up the opposition.”

“Weighing up
the opposition? You mean making snap judgements?”

“I mean using
gut instinct.”

“Huh.” Harly
didn’t say anything further as they pulled into Paul’s
driveway.

As Alex turned
the engine off, she opened the door and slid out, closing the door
behind her. Becky came out to meet them, taking Harly’s arm and
steering her inside.

Paul, who’d
been leaning against the veranda post, watched Alex lock the car
and approach. “So, Harly.”

“Yes?” Alex
stepped up onto the veranda.

Paul handed a
can of Coke to him. “What do you think?”

“Think?”

“Cripes, it’s
like pulling teeth from a lion.”

“Think I’ll
bite you?”

“No, just
really freakin’ hard to do.”

Hands in his
pockets, Alex gazed out into the street.

“So,” Paul
said, “Harly?”

“What about
her?”

Paul gave an
exasperated sigh.

Grinning, Alex
crossed his ankles.

“Think she’s
changed much?” Paul probed.

“We’ve all
grown older.”

“Geez, you’ll
be off Becky’s Christmas card list if she hears you say that.”

“I’d never be
mean enough to say it to her.”

“What about
Harly?”

“You’re like a
dog with a bone.”

“Maybe I’m just
wondering why you’re avoiding the answer.”

Alex glanced
sharply at his friend. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I ask a simple
question that you’ve yet to answer.”

He’d forgotten
how intuitive Paul could be, and that was a mistake he didn’t mean
to again forget. Relaxing his features, Alex grinned slightly.
“Harly is pretty, really pretty.”

“Hmmm.” Paul
eyed him sceptically.

“What else do
you want me to say? She’s grown up, she seems very quiet but
pleasant. And I never really knew her that well.”
Not in that
way, at least
.

“No.” Paul took
a sip from the can of Coke he held. “I guess not. She never hung
around much.”

“She kind of
did, actually,” Alex said. “On the fringes.”

Paul frowned.
“On the fringes?”

“She was never
first choice for the active games, but she used to try. Tried hard,
in fact.” It was Alex’s turn to frown. Shit, memories like that he
didn’t need now.