Fall for You

by Angela Verdenius

  “Oscar will be just fine.”

  Not a twitch of an eyebrow. “Oscar.”

  “Yeah.” She smiled brightly. “My honey.”

  “Uh huh.”

  She watched him come down the steps, disconcerted to find that even when he stood on the ground and she stood on the bottom step, he still towered over her.

  Crossing to the bike, he swung one leg over it and settled on the seat, holding the helmet in both hands as he fitted it over his head. Buckling the strap beneath his chin, he looked at her. “Going into town?”

  “No, I always carry my shoulder bag and lock the door when I go out in the yard.” When he just looked steadily at her, she amended, “Yes.”

  “Do you need a lift?”

  “On your bike?”

  “No, on my lap.”

  Her knees almost wobbled. One look at those strong thighs draped each side of the powerful bike and all sorts of images started to come to mind. She had to clear her throat before she could humiliatingly croak out, “Thanks for the offer, but I think I’d break you.” Oh Jesus, did I really say that out loud?

  His eyes crinkled at the corners, a small quirk appearing each side of that masculine mouth. “Yes.”

  “Yes?” Oh God, he agreed? He didn’t have the decency to deny her weight? To at least pretend?

  “Yes, on my bike,” he clarified. “Behind me.”

  “Oh.” Taking a fortifying breath, Molly looked at the motorbike. Black and chrome, big and powerful, the man straddling it so easily a perfect fit. Both were suddenly a little scary. “Thank you, but no.”

  “Sure?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay.” He stood, kick-starting it with ease, the roar of the engine filling the air.

  There was no missing the sudden gleam in his eyes, the way he stroked his hand over the shiny tank in front of him. Oh yeah, this man loved his bike. Probably spent hours polishing it, whispering sweet nothings into its fuel tank. She just hoped he didn’t do anything perverted with the exhaust pipe.

  The last thought had her grinning, which he caught when he looked across at her. For several seconds they looked at each other, her grin dying, his eyes steady. Then he crooked a finger at her.

  Curious, she adjusted the strap on her shoulder while walking across to him, leaning forward to hear him above the rumble of the bike.

  “Molly.” He looked her right in the eyes, a habit she found both a little unnerving because his gaze never wavered, and a little titillating because it was as though she was the sole focus of his attention.

  “Yes?”

  “You wouldn’t break me.”

  It took several seconds for his meaning to sink in and mortified, she sucked her breath in, feeling the tinge of pink blossom in her cheeks. Oh God!

  His smile was sudden and almost blinding, a flash of white teeth in a lightly tanned face, and the wink he unexpectedly threw at her had her wobbly knees almost buckling. “See you around, Molly.”

  She was left gaping after him as he drove off down the driveway, the throttle opening once he hit the open road and headed in the opposite direction to town. It was only when the bike was out of sight that she was able to breathe properly.

  Good grief, that smile of Goldie’s should be itemised as a dangerous weapon. It transformed his face from handsome to dangerously handsome, especially when combined with that twinkle in his eyes.

  Taking a deep breath, she hitched the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder and blew out a breath. It didn’t matter, men were not on her ‘to do’ list, or ‘must have’ list, or even her ‘want’ list at the moment. She’d had enough of men, and Goldie didn’t change her mind.

  I am single, a free woman. No one dominates me, no one tells me what to do. I am single, I am free.

  Affirmation reaffirmed, Molly strode down the driveway with renewed determination. One man had tried to dominate her and never again was that going to happen. Ever.

  The walk into town was nice, the morning air holding warmth, the scent of early summer in the air a soothing balm to her soul. As she walked into the township of Gully’s Fall, she delighted in how little the old town had changed. Buildings of wood and stone, angle parking, and the same old shops, though a couple had different signage. But they were still there - butcher, baker, bookshop, café, furniture store, newsagent, clothes shop, and service station. On the other side of the road ran the tavern, an electrician, an estate agent and a park. The hospital was still off on the side road. The police station, small courthouse, ambulance and fire station were still beside the park. Nothing seemed to have changed, it was like walking back in time ten years ago.

  It was reassuring to know that while some things changed, other things remained the same.

  Seeing the newsagency, curiosity had her walking in to buy the local paper and see what was happening in the town. She half expected to see Hilda and Ron Banford standing behind the counter just as they used to years ago, but instead a buxom woman with a generously proportioned hour-glass figure and long, blonde hair was sorting through a large pile of magazines.

  There was no mistaking that face and Molly grinned. “Dee?”

  The woman looked up, her eyes widening. “Molly?”

  “That’s me.”

  With a whoop, Dee ran around the counter and flung her arms around Molly, hugging her hard enough to make her breathless before she pushed her back enough to look her over. “Good lord, Molly! You haven’t changed a bit!”

  “You think?” If she only knew.

  “Look at you. Same hair, same face, not a wrinkle in sight.” Dee beamed. “You look amazing.”

  “Thank you. I could say the same for you. You’re like this town, ageless.”

  “Aw, flattery will get you everywhere.” Grinning, Dee leaned back against the counter. “Mate, you aren’t supposed to be here until Friday.”

  “So Goldie said, but surprise, here I am.”

  “Goldie?”

  “Local cop.”

  Dee looked blank for a few seconds before understanding dawned. “Oh, Kirk. You call him Goldie?”

  Molly pointed at her hair.

  “Oh yeah. But Goldie?”

  “It seemed to fit at the time.”

  “At the time?”

  “He found me with my arse hanging out the window at three o’clock this morning.”

  “What the hell? Why was your arse hanging out the window?”

  “I lost my keys.”

  “And…?”

  “I found an unlocked window, tried to get in and got trapped.”

  “Your arse is big, granted, but not that big.”

  “Thanks,” Molly said dryly. “Actually, the window frame fell and pinned me down when I was halfway through.”

  “Ouch.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Ha ha. Anyway, then the bloody thing got stuck and I couldn’t shift it.”

  “And Kirk found you?”

  “Apparently someone had seen torchlight around Aunt Julia’s house, knew she wasn’t there and called the cops. Goldie came out to investigate and got a surprise.”

  “I just bet he did.” Dee smirked.

  Molly grinned. “Rescued me and then this morning found my missing keys.”

  “Such a gallant bloke.”

  “Considering I almost knocked him out with the door, yes, he was.”

  “Ah.” Dee’s eyes gleamed with laughter. “So, your little streak of accident proneness hasn’t changed either?”

  Molly tilted her nose into the air. “I’ll have you know that I outgrew accident proneness.”

  “Uh huh. So getting stuck in a window and nearly knocking out the local cop was just for old time’s sake?”

  “Sure, let’s go with that.”

  Dee laughed. “I’m so glad you’re here again, Molly.”

  “Tell me the local gossip.”

  “Your cousin is engaged.”

  “I know that, you nong.”r />
  “Nice girl, name of Ash, she’s a friend of ours.”

  “He sent photos of them together at the engagement party. She seems nice. I look forward to meeting her. How about you?”

  “I’m still single, Del’s still single, and Ryder’s still a dumb arse.”

  “Okay, so that’s got the main gang sorted.” Molly looked around the newsagent. “This has changed a little, new shelving, more reading material, a’ fridge. You like working here?”

  “Work here? Sweetie, I own this place.”

  Surprised, Molly’s eyebrows shot up. “You? A business owner?”

  “We have to grow up sometime.” Dee paused, frowned. “Or some of us do.”

  “Is this a reference to anyone in particular?”

  “Dumb arse.”

  “What’s dumb arse doing?”

  “He’s the local ambo, can you believe it?”

  “So not so much a dumb arse as just an arse?”

  Dee grunted.

  Hmmm, something interesting going on there. But Molly wasn’t about to probe when she hadn’t been here for a long time. They’d all been friends as kids when she used to visit but there hadn’t been much contact in the last ten years, so she figured she’d wait and pump Scott shamelessly for info.

  “So, you bought a business.” Molly looked around the shop again. “I like it.”

  “So do I.” Dee smiled. “Being my own boss, no one to tell me what to do.”

  “Yeah, I get that.” Molly nodded soberly. “I really do.”

  Dee’s gaze sharpened. “Sucky boss experience?”

  “Sucky something is right.” Molly stuck her hands in her pockets. “So, owned it long?”

  “About six years now.” Dee ran her fingertips along the glass edge of the counter. “It’s a nice feeling, doing it on your own.”

  Molly nodded in agreement.

  Dee looked at her. “Del runs the dress shop for her Dad.”

  “I can see Del doing that.”

  “Call in any lunchtime and join us. Ash, Del and I have lunch together most days.”

  “I’ll do that. Meanwhile, I guess I better get some shopping done and start work.”

  “Oh yeah, doing the big clean on Julia’s boarding house. How the hell did you talk her into that?”

  “Divine intervention.”

  “What?”

  “Opportune for us both.” Molly wasn’t about to be drawn on that story. Spotting the pile of newspapers - an assortment of state, national, and even a few international - she picked up the local paper. “Thought I’d check out what was happening in this town.”

  Dee walked around behind the counter and rang up the cost on the cash register. “Where are you working at the moment?”

  “Aunt Julia’s.”

  Dee just looked at her.

  “I’m between jobs right now.”

  “Footloose and fancy-free, then.”

  “Now I am.” Molly paused, tempted for the first time since she’d had the unpleasant experience to confide in someone, but she resisted it. Maybe later, but not right now. One didn’t tell someone something like that when they’d only just met them again after ten years.

  With a smile, she bid Dee goodbye and left the newsagent. On the street she stretched and looked around, spotting the café. The thought of a hot, strong tea pulled at her, her belly giving a growl that had her heading there first for the breakfast she’d missed.

  Cheryl and Ernie still ran the café, and the café hadn’t changed in ten years. Same lino, same chairs and tables, same counters, same warm, friendly atmosphere.

  Molly was greeted, hugged by both, sat in a booth near the window and plied with hot tea and scones.

  Happily chomping on a fruit scone, she was going over her shopping list when two big hands clapped over her eyes, making her jump and almost spill the tea, her heart kicking a rapid tattoo as alarm streaked through her momentarily.

  The hands didn’t shift, but Scott’s reassuring voice from in front of her said, “Don’t panic, Molly, it’s just us.”

  Her heart stuttered in relief. “Us?”

  “Guess who?” came another deep voice behind her, the owner of the hands.

  Molly thought for a few seconds then grinned. “Dumb arse?”

  “Jesus,” Ryder said in disgust, removing his hands. “You’ve already seen Dee.”

  “Hey, chicken.” Scott dropped a kiss on top of her head before sitting in the booth opposite her.

  “Hey, trouble,” Ryder added, sliding into the booth beside her while nudging her along with his hip.

  She elbowed him in the side while grinning at Scott. “Hey, big, responsible fireman.”

  “That I am.” Scott modestly brushed the front of his uniform shirt.

  “What about me?” Ryder asked.

  “Hey, big, responsible…” Her voice faded as she turned and saw that he was dressed in a t-shirt, raggy old jeans, thongs, with a definite hickey on his neck. “…slut?”

  “Yeah, like that really hurt.” Plucking the scone from her hand, Ryder took a big bite. “I may be a dumb arse and a slut, but at least my nether-regions weren’t hanging out in the wind.”

  “I thought whatever the police saw was confidential?”

  “Kirk told me, you being my cousin, locked out of the house and all.” Scott grinned widely. “Nice to know that you haven’t lost your style, Molly.”

  “And Scott told me,” Ryder said. “Just the thought of you hanging out that window and Kirk finding you brightened my day.”

  “I bet it did,” she replied cheerfully, slapping his hand away from the last scone on the plate.

  As Ryder shook his hand, Scott raised his eyebrows at her. “You weren’t expected until Friday.”

  “So everyone tells me.” She took a mouthful of tea. “Actually, I decided to come a little earlier. That’s all right, isn’t it?”

  “Sure, no skin off my nose.”

  “Great.”

  Leaning back in the chair, Scott stretched out his legs and studied her. “You look good.”

  “You charmer, you.”

  “A little tired.”

  “I got about four hours sleep, I think I’m entitled to look a little buggered.”

  “I’ll give you that. So, how about coming over tomorrow night, meet Ash and Tilly?”

  “Into threesomes now?”

  “Tilly’s daddy’s little pudding,” Ryder drawled. “Attitude and appetite all rolled into one.”

  “Ignore him,” Scott said. “Tilly’s my baby.”

  Molly almost dropped the cup. “What?”

  “My fur baby.”

  Understanding dawned. “Oh, the cat!”

  “Not just ‘the cat’,” Ryder corrected. “But ‘the cat’.”

  “There’s a difference?”

  “Wait until you meet her, my child, then you’ll understand everything.”

  Laughing, Molly thought that neither of the men had really changed that much apart from being a little older, as were they all. Both were tall and broad-shouldered, but whereas Ryder had black hair and a wicked light in his dark blue eyes, her cousin, Scott, had brown hair and dark grey eyes. It didn’t surprise her that her good-looking cousin was finally engaged, it only surprised her that it had taken so long, nor did it really surprise her that as good-looking as Ryder was, he wasn’t engaged or married. Ryder was a player, Scott a family man.

  “So,” Scott said, “finished your job early, huh?”

  “I finished that job a few weeks ago. What I did early was come here.”

  “On a bus.”

  “Yep.”

  “What happened to your car?”

  “Stolen and trashed. Hazard of parking outside a movie theatre in the city. Didn’t help that it was at the end of the car park.”

  Scott frowned. “Damn.”

  “Yep. But what can you do, right? I mean apart from curse and kick the bin, miss the bin and end up booting a hapless bystander?”

  Ryd
er snorted a laugh.

  “And then almost get arrested for assault?” Molly continued. “I tell you, it took some serious grovelling to get out of that. Some people are just so quick to take offence, you know?”

  Eyes dancing, Scott nodded.

  “Anyway.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “I was kind of hoping you’d help me find a new car.”

  “Sure. Nothing I love more than checking out new cars.” Scott paused. “Well, there is checking out new motorbikes, of course.”

  “No motorbikes.”

  “Shame. I could see you as a bikie chick, riding the highway, leaving chaos in your wake.”

  “No bike. Car. Four wheels.”

  “We could put training wheels on the motorbike,” Ryder suggested.

  “And I could put my shoe up your backside, but we don’t want that either, do we?”

  “Point taken. Scott, back to you.”

  “Thanks,” Scott replied dryly.

  “So.” Molly looked at him. “Help me find a car?”

  “No probs. Brand new or second hand?”

  “A good second hand one. One that actually works.”

  “We can fix it for you,” Ryder said.

  She turned in the seat to look at him. “Sweetie, seriously, I want it to work.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you wouldn’t know a fan belt from a trouser belt.”

  “Jesus, you haven’t gotten any sweeter, have you?”

  “Ryder, I’m as sweet as they come.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him.

  “Maybe someone needs to make you sweeter,” he drawled. “Take you in hand, so to speak.”

  Her smile stayed in place, but her voice was unintentionally bitter. “Someone tried that. Didn’t work.”

  At her tone both men looked closely at her, concern filling their faces when she attempted what was obviously a poor smile. Damn, she needed to watch her words more carefully.

  “Did someone hurt you?” Scott demanded.

  You have no idea. Inwardly she flinched, outwardly she scoffed. “As if. Seriously, can you imagine anyone trying to tell me what to do?”

  He just looked at her, his gaze searching, and she squirmed uneasily when she felt Ryder doing the same.

  “Who was it?” Ryder asked.

  “No one. Now-”

  “Who?” Scott leaned forward.