The Shooting (9 page)

“So, how do you two know each other?”

David threw an arm around Lily’s shoulders and pulled her close to his side. “We met at college,” he said. “We’re both studying teaching and we have a number of classes together. I’m hopeless at reading a map. I was trying to find the English Literature lecture theater, but was on the wrong side of the campus. Lily came across me wandering around lost and confused and took pity on me. We’ve been friends ever since.”

Lily smiled at him and Tom couldn’t help the stab of jealousy that pierced his insides. He had no right to be jealous. Charlie had told him they were friends. Good friends. There was nothing wrong with that.

“I take it you’re a better map reader than he is?” Tom said, making an effort to keep his voice light.

Lily nodded and this time, the smile she turned on him seem to come more naturally. “I guess you can say that. I manage to get us to where we need to go most of the time.” She turned back to David who still had his arm around her shoulders. “Don’t I?”

David smiled down at her fondly. “Yep, I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

“Lost, that’s where.” They shared another mutual look of contentment and understanding and Tom was suddenly envious of their closeness. Whether there was more to their relationship than they were saying, he had yet to discover, but there was no denying they shared a special bond.

“How long have you been in college?” he asked, keen to discover how long they’d known each other.

“We’re coming up to the end of our first year,” Lily replied. “I went to college straight out of high school. David took a gap year.”

Tom digested that information in silence. No wonder she looked so young. She was probably eighteen or nineteen. Much younger than the girls he usually dated. As the oldest of seven children, Tom had matured early and had always had a finely honed sense of responsibility. He could still remember coming home after school and having to watch over his younger siblings until his mom came home. Sometimes it was an hour or two later, depending on what she’d been doing.

Marguerite Munro had worked as a nurse during the early years of her marriage. After the children arrived, whilst she gave up her career, she became heavily involved in charity work and often didn’t arrive back home until well after they’d climbed off the school bus.

Still, what was in an age? Tom had dated girls his age and even older who lacked common sense and know-how. Age didn’t always equate to maturity. Just like youth didn’t necessarily mean stupidity.

Eighteen or nineteen—what did it matter? Somehow, some way, she’d touched him way down deep inside. He’d never felt that way with anyone and he owed it to himself to see if she felt the same.

He looked at her and David again and while her roommate still had his arm around her shoulders, there was nothing possessive in his embrace—more like a protective, older brother. Tom could relate to that and he was absolutely fine with it. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he was pleased she had someone looking out for her.

A renewed surge of confidence flooded through him and he turned to shake David’s hand in farewell.

“It was nice to meet you, David. I guess I’ll see you later.”

David winked at him and then threw Lily a teasing smile. “You can bet on it. Have a nice time.”

* * *

Tom opened the door to the glitzy restaurant that overlooked Sydney Harbor and Lily was once again impressed with his old-fashioned manners. He’d opened the door for her when she’d climbed into and out of his car and now, was ushering her up the stairs. She held onto the balustrade to steady herself and found Tom’s hand right there at her elbow.

“Are you okay?” he enquired in his deep, sexy voice that sent her pulse into overdrive.

“Yes, thanks, I’m…I’m fine. My sandals are…a tad high. They’re slipping a little on the parquet floor.”

He glanced down and nodded, at once understanding her dilemma. The highly polished tiles were a beautiful chestnut color and gleamed golden in the restaurant’s soft lighting, but it also looked hazardous to anyone wearing four-inch heels.

“I don’t know how you walk in those things at any time, let alone over a polished floor,” Tom teased.

Lily smiled. When he smiled back—a slow, sexy you’re-the-most-important-girl-in-the-world smile—her heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t believe how quickly she was falling for him and despite all her silent promises not to get involved with a man who liked to drink, everything else she’d seen so far impressed the hell out of her.

That was the problem. She wasn’t thinking with her head. He was funny and sexy and considerate and polite and she was letting those admirable qualities override her knowledge of his fondness for a drink. She needed to be a little more circumspect and find out exactly what had happened that night at Charlie’s party. In the meantime, she was going to enjoy being taken to one of her mother’s favorite restaurants.

They made it to the top of the stairs and Tom guided her over to the maître’d, his hand still warm on her elbow. She should have taken offense at the proprietary feel of that, but the truth was, she liked it. The boys she’d dated in high school and even the ones she’d gone out with in college had the attitude that a girl could fend for herself and even though Lily was a feminist, she also liked to have her femininity appreciated.

“Miss Lily! I didn’t know you were dining with us tonight!”

Lily smiled fondly at the maître’d and gave him a warm hug. “Manny, how are you? It’s been ages! How are Mona and all of those grandkids? Still keeping you busy, no doubt.”

Manny nodded, his face wreathed in a smile.

“Max’s twins turned thirteen the other day.” He shook his head. “Where does the time go?”

Lily smiled again. “You’re telling me. I’m almost finished my first year at college.”

“No, bambina. It can’t be so. It only seems like yesterday your Mama and stepfather were bringing you up those stairs in pigtails and cotton socks.”

“Ah, hm.” Tom cleared his throat and Lily suddenly remembered her manners.

“I’m sorry, Tom, I’d like you to meet Manny Antonopoulos. Manny, this is Tom Munro.” She turned back to Tom. “Manny has been the maître’d here since I was a little girl.”

Tom shook Manny’s hand and then turned to Lily.

“I didn’t realize you’d been here before. I wanted to take you somewhere special.”

“Don’t worry, this
is
somewhere special. Watsons by the Sea is my mother’s favorite restaurant and it’s also one of mine. My stepfather brings us here quite often. They do a fantastic pecan pie and the ice cream is to die for.”

Tom’s eyes glimmered with amusement. “I take it you have a sweet tooth.”

Lily shot him a wry smile. “I’m not a big eater. Sometimes I don’t have room for dessert and that’s the best part of all.” She shrugged. “So, I start at the other end. If I don’t have room for an entrée, it doesn’t matter.”

Tom laughed outright. It was the kind of joyous rumble that came from deep inside him and people couldn’t help but respond to. Lily noticed a few of the other diners turn to look in their direction and smile. Even Manny chuckled. Tom directed his attention toward the maître’d.

“Is it true, Manny? Does she really skip the main meal and head straight for the dessert?”

Manny’s lips twitched, but he managed to keep a sober face. “Oh, yes, it’s true Mr Munro. Most of our chef’s expertise is wasted on this one. It’s always been that way.”

“I guess that means she’s a cheap date, then?” He winked, his expression telling her he was teasing.

“Oh, no, Mr Munro, there’s nothing cheap about our Lily. She’s top shelf all the way.”

Tom’s gaze gave her a slow once-over that had Lily curling her toes. Heat followed in a trail behind him and centered in her core. Her nipples hardened under his inspection and she silently cursed the clingy material that exposed her reaction to his gaze. From the way his eyes deepened to cobalt when they once again met hers, she could tell he’d missed nothing.

What did she expect?
He was a police officer, after all. Clearing her throat of sudden nerves, she urged Manny to show them to their table. A few moments later, they were ensconced in a cosy corner overlooking the harbor.

Manny went to pull out her chair, but Tom beat him to it. Lily murmured her thanks. His warm hands skimmed across her bare shoulders and she shivered from the heat left in their wake.

This was ridiculous!
How could she be so turned on by a man she’d only just met? But no matter how much she tried to tell herself it was madness, her reaction to his nearness couldn’t be denied.

He took a seat and pulled his chair closer into the table. His knee brushed against hers and once again, her pulse quickened. She wished for an instant that she could gulp down some wine in order to steady her nerves. Her friends had often told her alcohol was good for that.

Having vowed never to get involved with a man who drank, she’d also sworn off alcohol. It would be the worst kind of hypocrisy to indulge when she expected her man to exercise restraint—and a hypocrite she wasn’t.

A waiter appeared with a wine list and a menu and then asked, “Can I get you something to drink?”

Lily opened her mouth, but Tom beat her to it.

“I’ll have a Corona, thanks.”

Lily’s jaw clicked shut and she stared at Tom in disappointment. Her reaction was ridiculous. She knew he drank. She’d seen him drunk. Somehow, she’d convinced herself there was another explanation; that his actions at the party were completely out of character. In fact, that he wasn’t himself at all that night. She couldn’t believe how much she’d set her heart on that hope.

“And you, madam?”

Lily blinked and realized the waiter was still waiting to take her order.

“Um, I-I’ll just have a Diet Coke, thank you.”

The waiter nodded and silently disappeared. Tom grinned and quirked an eyebrow. “I’m the driver, remember? I’m the responsible one tonight. Feel free to let your hair down. What’s your poison? Red or white? Or maybe you’re a cocktail kind of girl?”

Lily was shaking her head long before he’d finished. “No, thank you. I-I’m good. The soda will be fine. I-I don’t drink.”

Tom’s eyes widened in surprise and this time he laughed aloud. “A college student who doesn’t drink? That has to be a first.”

She should have taken offense, but the teasing glint in his eyes took the edge off his words.

She shrugged and offered him a self-conscious smile. “We do exist. In small numbers, I will concede, but that only makes us more unique.”

“Hey, I’m all for unique.” His voice dropped to a husky growl that sent her pulse rate soaring. “You can be my unique any day.”

His gaze moved over her face and then dropped lower to pause on her rapidly rising chest. Heat flared in his eyes and bloomed across his cheeks. Lily squirmed in her chair, feeling her response to his gaze way down deep.

Before she could come up with a suitable reply, the waiter reappeared with their drinks. Lily stared at the bottle of beer that was placed near Tom’s hand, a wedge of lemon clinging to the top. The glass was icy and left imprints from his fingers as he picked it up and brought it to his lips.

With dread that warred with fascination, she watched as his strong, tanned throat moved in time with his mouth. One swallow. Two. Hell, he was going for a third. Panic tightened its grip. She clenched her hands into fists.

Tom set the bottle back down on the table and sighed in satisfaction. “Damn, that was good. Just what I nee—”

As if only just noticing her reticence, he stopped in mid-sentence and frowned. “Lily, are you all right? You’ve gone as white as the tablecloth. What’s the matter? Are you feeling okay? Hell…”

He looked around for a waiter and Lily hurried to reassure him. Reaching out, she took hold of his hand and squeezed. It was the first thing she thought of. Tom stilled and turned back to face her, all of his attention narrowed on her and their fingers.

“I-I’m fine. Please, don’t make a fuss. I… It’s just…” She shrugged helplessly, suddenly unable to find the words. She couldn’t just tell him she didn’t date drinkers. She’d come off sounding holier than thou. He’d want an explanation and he probably deserved one. The problem was, she didn’t know if she was willing to give him one.

Apart from her mother and Tony, the only other person who knew about her childhood was David. They’d shared their pasts over tears and chocolate. It was the night he told her he was gay. She’d urged him to tell his parents, sure that they would understand. She felt every second of his agony a few months later when his father proved her wrong.

And so, while David stressed that not all men who drank were abusive alcoholics and had urged her not to let her father dictate how she lived her life, after the experience he’d had with his parents, she buried the tiny sliver of hope his words had kindled and refused to ever again consider the possibility of dating a drinker.

She wouldn’t drink and she wouldn’t get involved with a man who did. It was as simple as that.

Well, it was supposed to be simple.
From the look on the face of the man who sat across from her, it was going to be anything but. His expression was filled with such concern and kindness, it nearly undid her. All of a sudden, she wanted to tell him everything. She wanted to tell him the truth.