The Lawson Boys: Alex (6 page)

That stung
enough to make her retort sharply, “You don’t know me, Alex.”

“You’re right,
I don’t. I mean to rectify that tonight.”

That scared
her. What, exactly, did he mean? She stared at him, but his profile
revealed nothing as yet another street light flashed past.

Part of her
wanted to stay silent, to sink back in the seat and pretend she
hadn’t heard anything, but the mature side of her made her ask
stiffly, “What, precisely, do you mean by that?”

“You’ll find
out.” Flicking on the indicator, he steered the Jeep off the road
onto the track leading to her house.

She
straightened. “You can drop me here.”

“I’ll see you
inside.”

She hoped that
meant staying in the car but when he pulled up outside her house,
he got out as fast as she did and met her at the front of the Jeep,
where he held out his hand. He wanted her key.

“You’ve got to
be kidding me.”

“The key,
Harly.”

Her heart was
thumping a mile a minute and her hands shook. “No.”

Keeping his
gaze on her, he took a step in front of her and moved forward.

Instinctively
she retreated only to find the front of the Jeep nudging the backs
of her legs. He’d deftly trapped her, the idea becoming reality
when he leaned forward to place one hand on the warm bonnet while
the fingers of his other hand slid into the pocket of her
pants.

He was so close
to her that she fancied the warmth of the car at her back almost
matched the heat from his body.

Quickly she
grabbed his wrist, stopping his fingers in their quest for her
house keys. “Stop.” Breathless, she stared up at him,

His eyelashes,
so dark in the glow from the outside light of the house, swept down
to hide his eyes as he gazed at her mouth. The seconds stretched
between them and she could feel his fingers against her, the thin
material of her pants the only thing separating flesh from
flesh.

So close,
yet so far
.

The thought
shook her, the sudden, unexpected yearning hidden deep inside
making her jerk back.

Closer he
moved, closer still until his mouth hovered inches above her own
and they were breathing almost in unison, only her breathing was
ragged while his was deep and steady.

His lashes
lifted, revealing the intensity of his eyes, the blue glitter
almost mesmerising. He caught her gaze, holding her attention.

A movement at
her hip, fingers moving fast, deftly snagging her keys deep in her
pocket, his hand firm against her hip, then he stepped back and
held up her house key. “Let’s go.”

Reality hit
hard when he turned away. “Alex! No!”

“It’s cold out
here, Harly. Now come on.”

She stared at
his broad back as he crossed the small distance to the house and
stepped up onto the veranda. Unlocking the security screen, he
swung it open and unlocked the wooden door, stepping inside to
flick the switch on.

Like he’d done
sixteen years ago.

Only this time
it was different, this time he wasn’t the comforter, this time he
was the threat.

Did it really
matter? She blinked, her breathing still coming fast. What could he
do, anyway? Besides, he hadn’t said that he knew, he hadn’t
actually
said it. Maybe this was something else
entirely.

But she’d felt
the simmering anger in him. If not what she thought, then why was
he here? It certainly wasn’t to get to know her better.

“Come in.” His
quiet order travelled clearly in the still of the night.

She lifted her
chin. “Not until you tell me what you’re doing here.”

“It’s cold,
Harly. Come inside.”

“No.”

He stood so
still in the back glow of the hall light. “What are you scared
of?”

“Nothing. Not
you.”

“Strange
answer. What makes you say that?”

Annoyance
prickled through her. “I’m not going to play word games with
you.”

“I never asked
you to. I’m seeing you safely inside. You’re the one acting like
you think I’m going to hurt you.” His head angled to one side
inquiringly. “Is that it, Harly? Do you think I’m going to hurt
you?”

“No.” That was
truthful.

“Then why are
you so afraid?”

“I’m not.”
Liar
.

Stepping down
off the veranda, Alex closed the small distance between them with
firm treads.

Swallowing, she
watched as he came to a stop directly in front of her. She had to
be careful, so careful…

Reaching out,
Alex took her hand, his gaze shuttered. “Right now I just want you
inside out of the cold. I’m not here to hurt you, Harly.”

The sincerity
of his words rang with truth and embarrassment immediately swept
through her. Embarrassment and relief. He couldn’t know, and maybe
this was just his way now, hard and direct. All he’d said was that
he’d meant to rectify not knowing her, that was all. She was
reading too much into it, letting her emotions and long ago
memories play havoc with her commonsense.

Taking a deep
breath, she smiled up at him. “Sorry. I’m sorry, Alex. I just - you
just threw me a little with some of your comments.”

“Really?” His
thumb rubbed along the back of her hand before he suddenly changed
his grip, clasping her hand completely in his and turning on his
heel to lead her back to the house. “I wonder why that is?”

“I don’t know.”
Liar again
. Foreboding filled her, but she was so rattled,
so uncertain as to his motive, that she allowed him to lead her up
the steps of the veranda and into the house. Of only one thing was
she certain and that was that Alex wouldn’t physically hurt her.
That sure knowledge was the only reason why she followed him
inside.

Buffy met her
just inside the doorway and Harly’s taut nerves eased when Alex
released her hand to kneel done and stroke the old dog. Buffy’s
wagging tail and trusting gaze tracked from Alex to Harly and back
again.

Speaking softly
to Buffy, Alex rubbed her gently behind her ears and she leaned
into him.

Oh yeah, Harly
knew for sure then that Alex wouldn’t physically hurt her. She
relied on animal instincts and Buffy’s acceptance helped bolster
her own decision.

Moving past the
man and dog, she checked the lounge to see the three cats still
sprawled on the furniture. They opened their eyes to look at her.
Chuckie jumped down and walked up to her yowling, winding around
her legs until she picked him up and cuddled him.

He stiffened
and Harly felt warmth at her back, her nerves almost prickling at
the closeness of Alex behind her.

Slowly his hand
appeared over her shoulder so that Chuckie could cautiously sniff
him, and then he tickled the big cat under the chin. Immediately a
loud, sputtering purr broke the quiet.

“You’ve made a
friend.” Harly laughed.

“You can trust
animals,” Alex replied.

He didn’t move
from behind her, continuing to tickle under Chuckie’s chin. Turning
her head slightly, Harly looked back and up to find him standing
directly behind her, his broad shoulders right behind her head as
he looked easily over her to study the room.

“You like
animals,” he stated. “That hasn’t changed.”

“Buffy and
Pepper belonged to Grandma.” She looked back at the room, wondering
what he thought of it. She hadn’t changed the old furniture, loving
the feel and look of the old times. Cosier times. “Chuckie and
Sunny are mine. Now they’re all mine.”

“Nice little
family.” His tone didn’t change, but there was a definite undertone
to it now.

“Yes. They’re
my family.” Bending to place Chuckie on the floor, she stiffened as
her bottom bumped into his thighs. Abruptly she straightened.
“Sorry.”

“No need.” But
he didn’t step back, keeping them in close contact.

The only way
she could turn around without brushing against him was to step
forward and then turn around, to find him looking down at her.

She hadn’t
imagined it, there was a fire burning in his eyes. Banked anger.
Oh shit
. Was he nuts after all? The war? The fighting?

The past?

He couldn’t
bloody know! There was no
way
he could know!

“Ummm…” Swiftly
she moved past him into the hallway and heading for the door.
“Thanks for the lift. I’ll see you around, okay? That cup of
coffee, maybe tomorrow? I-”

His hand on her
arm swung her around and before she knew what had happened, he’d
pressed her back against the wall with his big hands on her
shoulders. Leaning down, he looked her directly in the eyes and
growled, “When were you going to tell me, Harly? When were you
going to bloody
tell
me
?”

“I don’t-” she
began, trying to pretend she didn’t know while the realisation that
he’d somehow,
somehow
, found out came crashing down.

“When,” he
asked through gritted teeth, “Were you going to tell me that you
were pregnant with
my
baby?”

Three

Her breath
caught and he could see the panic in her eyes right before she
denied it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I-”

“Don’t lie to
me.” Fury lashed through him, anger that she could lie about this,
now, while he was standing directly in front of her.

“I’m not,
I-”

“I deserve to
know
!” The words exploded out of him.

He hadn’t
meant to ask her, not yet. He’d been going to give her a chance to
tell him, to explain, but seeing her tonight, watching her laughing
and talking with her friends while knowing all the while that she
kept everything a secret from him - he couldn’t take it.

No more. Not
after all this time, all these months of knowing.

Gazing down at
her, he watched as a myriad of emotions crossed her pretty face.
Sadness, fear, panic and shame. It was the shame that hurt the
most.

His fingers
tightened a fraction on her arms. “Were you so ashamed to be
carrying my baby, Harly? Was it so bad that you couldn’t tell
me?”

“It wasn’t
like that.” Her eyes flashed angrily.

He welcomed
that anger because perversely, he couldn’t take the sadness that
had briefly filled her eyes. And that weakness he felt made him
angrier.

Her hands came
up, breaking his hold, and she shoved him back a couple of steps.
“It wasn’t like that,” she repeated, her eyes narrowed and her
round cheeks flushed. “You have no idea what it was like.”

“And isn’t
that the kicker,” he said from between clenched teeth, “because I
should have known what it was like, Harly. I
should
have
know.”

Closing her
eyes, she took a deep breath, her breasts swelling with the
movement.

Jaw clenched,
he didn’t take his gaze from her face, waiting in silence as she
collected her thoughts. That was a tactical error, allowing her to
get over the shock of his verbal ambush. An error he couldn’t
allow. “Why did you get rid of the baby, Harly?”

Her eyes
snapped open in shock before dawning fury made them literally
blaze. “I never got rid of my baby!”

“
Our
baby,” he corrected harshly. “It was mine, too, don’t you forget
that.”

“I never
forgot it!” Reaching out, she stabbed her finger hard into his
chest. “Not once, Alex, did I forget it!”

“So if you
didn’t forget that I was the father, Harly, tell me why the bloody
hell you didn’t tell me, and what happened?” Crowding close, he
placed one hand above her head and lowered his head so that their
faces were mere inches apart while he glared down at her. “Tell me
what happened, and I mean everything.
Everything
.”

She matched
him glare for glare, her cheeks flushed and eyes glittering with
fury.

The house was
silent around them, he could hear every breath she drew, his entire
attention focussed solely upon her.

“Tell me
everything,” he demanded harshly. “Tell me what happened to my
baby, Harly. I deserve that, and a hell of a lot more.”

The ticking of
the grandfather clock in the hall was suddenly loud, marking away
every silent second that passed between them. He refused to look
away, refused to soften, feeling once again the mingled anger,
shock and then sadness that had first hit him when he’d heard.

But it wasn’t
enough, he needed to hear it from her, from Harly, from her very
mouth.

The silence
stretched between them, longer and longer, and the anger in her
eyes burned bright, then she blinked and he saw the anger dim, felt
her relax back against the wall, her shoulders slumping.

“Okay,” she
said softly. “You’re right, you deserve to be told.”

He didn’t
move, waiting for her to speak, but instead she placed one hand on
his shoulder and pushed slightly. “Let me put the kettle on.”

“The kettle? I
don’t want a cup of tea, Harly-”

“Maybe you
don’t, but I do.” This time her gaze was steady as she met his.
“I’m not going to talk about it shoved up against my own wall.”

Taking a deep
breath, he studied her, recognising the quiet acceptance in her
expression and tone, as well as the determination.

Harly had
always had a quiet determination, he remembered, and it was the
memory of a softer, younger Harly that made him step back to give
her room to move.

Once they’d
been friends of sorts. Then one time of being lovers, brief, silly…
And now they were what? Adversaries? He didn’t know. All he knew
was that their actions that one night had changed their lives, and
he hadn’t even known about it.

Sliding past
him, she walked down the hallway and into the kitchen, crossing the
room to fill the kettle and plug it into the socket. “Sit at the
table.” She nodded to the round, wooden table.