The bucket crashed into his belly and he blinked, rocked out of his heated contemplation of her lips to see her scuttling off, leaving him holding the bucket.
“Thanks for helping,” she called back, “It was really…helpful…of you.”
Bucket in hands, eyebrows raised, Kirk watched her disappear around the side of the house. Not sure what to think, he tapped the side of the bucket.
“Scratch cocky?” Henry cooed.
Hmmm. Putting the bucket on the table, Kirk obliged Henry, scratching his head through the wire of the cage as he looked unseeingly at the house. Having a woman run from him wasn’t something he was used to unless they were a criminal. He didn’t have much of an ego even though he was well aware that women mostly ran towards him, but heck, this was the first time he’d ever had a woman run from him when he’d been trying to help.
Okay, he had been looking at her lips with nefarious intentions swirling through his brain - another first, he’d never reacted so quickly before - but he’d never forced his intentions on a woman.
Another dilemma. Did he have intentions? Hell if he knew. He didn’t like not knowing. His life was sorted, settled, he had clear-cut directions and control. Not knowing was something a little alien to him. He’d never had a problem approaching a woman before, hell, he’d never had a problem considering approaching a woman. Mostly because he studied them from afar, got to know them slowly and then approached them, though to be truthful, he’d had a few approach him first. But with Molly, well, he wasn’t sure.
He was attracted to her, amused by her, and even bemused by her. She was something outside his usual choice, which were women who were as clear-headed and steady as himself. From the few things he’d witnessed, Molly wasn’t really steady.
Yet, he wanted her. Wanted to get to know her, he corrected himself. First things first. And first things first, he was here to get heavy boxes off the wardrobes before she hurt herself.
Kirk strode around the side of the house to the back, bounding up the steps and through the back door into the kitchen. “Molly?”
There was silence for several seconds before her voice came from the front of the house. “Kirk?”
“Yeah.” Walking through the house, he met her in the hallway where she stood holding a small pile of magazines which she was in the process of putting into a box at her feet.
Her cheeks were a little rosy, but she met his gaze inquiringly. Or was that gamely? “You wanted something?”
She had no idea. A little kiss, a little taste…an explanation. “Scott asked me to come and get some heavy boxes down.”
“Heavy boxes? I can do that.”
“No need, I’m here now.”
Dropping the magazines into the box, she frowned. “I appreciate the offer, but-”
“Not offering, honey. Doing.”
Well, look at that. The green of her eyes darkened, the pupils dilating. “Doing? Don’t you mean ‘telling’?”
Hmmm, he’d touched a sore spot. Now what was that about? “He asked me, I’m doing it.”
“I said I’m fine. I can do it myself.”
“The boxes are heavy-”
“I’m not helpless.” The sharpness of her tone was hard to miss.
“Never said you were,” he replied calmly, lowering his voice to make her have to listen and thereby possibly lower her rising annoyance. “Now, I’m going to get the boxes down. They’re on top of the wardrobes in Scott’s old room and Mrs Preston’s bedroom. Where do you want them?”
“Do you really want to know?”
He had to hide the spark of amusement. “I’m thinking that’s a loaded question.”
“You think?”
“How about I just leave them on the floor?”
“How about you just leave?”
“Yeah. Not happening.” Giving her a grin, he walked back down the hallway to the door marked ‘Private’ and opened it.
“Kirk?”
“Yeah?” He propped the door open.
“I didn’t mean to be rude.”
He looked down the passage to see her chewing that lush bottom lip. He wouldn’t mind giving it a lick himself, soothe the gently abused flesh. “No worries.”
“Yeah.” She looked uncertainly at him for several seconds. “Okay.” Turning, she ducked into the lounge room.
Odd. Definitely not the usual woman in whom he was normally interested.
Kirk stared after her for several seconds before shaking his head and entering the small hallway leading to Mrs Preston’s private rooms, which consisted of a bathroom, bedroom and small sitting room.
The boxes were where Scott had told him. Dragging a chair to the wardrobe, he got up and pulled the boxes down, putting them on the floor beside the door and repeating the same in Scott’s old bedroom.
Going back into the hallway, he called out, “Do you want this door left propped open?”
“Might as well,” she called back.
Tucking his hands into his pockets, he wandered back down the hallway and stopped in the doorway of the lounge room. Molly looked up from where she was studying her mobile, chewing her bottom lip again.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
“Yep.”
Nope. There was no hiding the flicker of her eyes. Something on the mobile had rattled her.
“Sure?” he asked, his gaze steady.
“Absolutely.” Clearing her throat, she tossed the mobile onto the sofa and smiled. “Thanks for lifting the boxes down.”
“No worries.” He didn’t stop watching her.
“It was a big help.”
“Need anything else lifted or shifted?”
“No. No, I’ve got it all under control.”
She might have the house under control but there was something it appeared she didn’t have under control too well, and that was her emotions. Her hand was wringing the bottom of her blouse.
“Sure about that?” he drawled.
Her stance stiffened, her shoulders going back. “Yes.”
After a couple of seconds studying her, he nodded. She wasn’t going to confess anything right now and pushing her wasn’t going to help. “Righto. I’ll be off.”
“Okay. Bye.” The relief on her face was unexpected.
Moving down the hallway, he pondered her reaction. What the hell was going on with her? Where was the happy woman of twenty minutes ago? It wasn’t just his staring at her lips that had scared her - had it?
Shit, was he the cause of it?
Stopping at the door, he frowned. Damn, surely she wasn’t scared of him? That thought didn’t sit well, and besides, he’d done nothing to provoke that kind of reaction.
Looking unseeingly out at his ute, he debated going back.
The choice was made for him when he heard a pained ouch! from back in the house. Swinging on his heel, he strode back down the hallway and into the lounge just in time to see a sight he’d not forget.
Standing with her back to the large mirror on the wall, Molly was holding the back of her blouse up and peering over her shoulder awkwardly to get a look at her back. There was a definite bruise across her lower back, but it was the pink stripes further up that had him staring.
“Jesus,” he muttered. “Molly?”
Dropping the blouse, she whipped her head around to stare at him in mortification. “What the-” A sickly smile crossed her face as she started forward. “I thought - I thought you’d gone?”
“You thought wrong.” He strode across the room towards her. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Oh, you mean the bruise?” She shrugged. “The window frame hit me, remember?”
“I figured the bruise, but what caused those other marks?”
Molly stepped away. “Nothing.”
Coming to a stop directly before her, Kirk looked her right in the eye, anger starting to build inside him though outwardly he remained calm. “What caused them?” When she didn’t answer, he added, “Who caused them?”
> “Look, it’s nothing.” She stepped around him, only to come to a halt when he stopped her with an out-stretched arm. “And it’s not your business.”
Like hell it wasn’t. “It’s my business if someone has hit you, Molly.”
“Forget it.”
“Show me.”
“What? No.” She pushed at his arm.
“Molly-”
“No.”
He acted instinctively, not thinking. His arm in front of her made it easy to curl his hand around her waist on the other side while he leaned around her, grabbing the hem of her blouse.
Immediately she started to struggle and he swung her in front of him so that she stood side-on, tucked into him, under his control. “Don’t! Kirk, no! It’s just the bruise from the window!”
The panic in her voice wasn’t reassuring at all. “Just let me see, Molly.” He sought to soothe her, speaking quietly.
“Kirk, let me go!” She tried to shove his arm away.
Ignoring her struggles, he slid her blouse up to just below her bra line, his gaze sweeping over the creamy smoothness of her back, his lips tightening. Yeah, there was a line of blue on her lower waist, the bruise from where the window frame had hit her, but his gaze was caught on four other marks. Pink stripes that criss-crossed her back, the markings showing where old, small scabs had come off.
Christ! The shock was quickly replaced by a fury that beat through him, his arm around her tightening.
“Kirk…” Her voice wobbled. “Let me go.”
“Jesus, Molly.” Gently, lightly, he traced the stripes on her back, fingertips barely grazing her skin. “Jesus.”
“Let me go.”
Let her go? He couldn’t take his gaze from the wide belt marks on her back. The fury pumping through him had his jaw clenched, teeth gritted. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” She stopped struggling, her body stiff. “Nothing happened.”
“Nothing happened?” Incredulous, he straightened, dropping her blouse and shifting so he was in front of her, his gaze scanning her features while he kept his hand on her waist.
She wouldn’t meet his gaze, her lips pressed tight together.
“What happened?” He leaned down, his gaze locked on her’s. “Who hit you, Molly?”
“It happened awhile ago, okay?” She mumbled. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Don’t worry…? Are you nuts? Someone strapped you with his belt hard enough to break skin.” Just the thought had his hand tightening on the indent of her waist, unconsciously drawing her closer into his protective arm. “When the hell did this happen?”
“It’s not your business.” Defiantly, she looked up at him.
A muscle ticked in his jaw, his eyes narrowing. “Someone hurt you. It is my business.”
“You might be a friend of Scott’s, but that doesn’t mean I have to tell you anything.”
“I’m also a cop. Who did this?”
“Look, I’m not-”
“Who did it?” When she pressed her lips together and glared, some of his composure slipped and he glared right back. “Tell me. Now.”
“Or what?” she snapped. “You’ll take a belt to me as well?”
“What?” As the meaning seeped into him, his anger sparked hotter, though he managed to retain his quiet control. “Is that what happened? You wouldn’t do what some man told you and he beat you?”
Molly pushed at his arm. “Will you let go?”
“Not until I get some answers.”
With an exasperate sigh, she stopped struggling. Taking a deep breath, she blew it out long and slow.
“Tell me,” he ordered.
“You can’t force me to tell what I don’t want to.”
“Fine. I’ll ask Scott.”
“He doesn’t know anything about it.”
“Imagine what he’ll say when he does.”
“You can’t tell him.”
“Then I suggest you tell me.” Refusing to back off, fury still roiling deep inside him, Kirk held her glare.
The stillness in the air practically shimmered between them, a stand-off that he had no intention of losing. Someone had hurt her, beaten her viciously with a belt, and he sure as hell meant to find out whom and sort the bastard out.
Watching her face, he could practically see her brain ticking over, her thoughts flashing across her face, her pupils dilating before she glanced away.
The silence lengthened but no way was he going to give in. Patience was something he had in abundance, and he’d wait her out if it killed him.
A knocking sounded at the door, breaking the growing silence between them.
Cursing, he looked over his shoulder.
Taking advantage of the interruption, she yelled out, “Come in!”
“Damn it, Molly,” he growled.
She cast him a triumphant look when a woman’s voice called back, “It’s me, Ash. Scott’s fiancée.”
“In the lounge,” Molly called. Looking up at Kirk, she whispered, “Let me go.”
He had no choice. Removing his arm, all he could do was watch as she practically scuttled to the doorway. He was still glowering after her, frustration clawing at him, when she looked back at him. The vulnerability in her eyes hit him almost as hard as the shock of her beating, but in a different way. It pulled at his heartstrings.
“Don’t tell.” Her lips trembled a little. “Please don’t tell, Kirk.”
“Maybe you should have thought of that before you invited Ash in.” He stopped as he drew level with her, looking down into her pale face, his voice softening as Ash’s footsteps sounded in the hallway. “But don’t worry, my lips are sealed.” At the visible relief on her face, he added, “But this isn’t over between us.” Before she could object, he stepped out into the hallway, greeting Ash with a smile. “’Morning, Ash. Ben give you some time off work?”
“Hi, Kirk. No, I was on my way to the post office and Ben gave me permission to have an extended morning tea break so I could pop in and check on Molly.”
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.” He cast Molly a look. “I’ll see you later.”
“Sure.” She nodded, leaning against the doorway, ankles crossed and arms folded in a relaxed stance, the smile on her face pleasant.
Was she so good at hiding her feelings? What else did she hide? He couldn’t help but scan her face, trying to see past her pleasant expression, but she neatly avoided his eyes by looking at Ash.
“Nice of you to call in.” She looked at the small tray holding two plastics cups with dome lids. “Oohh, is that by any chance Cheryl’s yummy iced chocolate complete with whipped cream?”
Ash laughed. “I thought you could use a break and a treat.”
“Mmm, now that sounds good.”
Reluctantly, Kirk left. But he wasn’t done with Molly Travers. Not by a long shot.
~*~
Ash was a pretty woman with sky blue eyes behind a pair of glasses and auburn hair that fell down her back with the sides caught up in a hair clip. Generously curved, her smile was genuine.
Molly gave her a hug. “Glad you finally caught and tamed Scott.”
Ash hugged her back, her cheeks slightly red. “I don’t think Scott can be completely tamed.”
“True, he’s quite easy-going and…” Molly broke off as she caught the reddened cheeks. “Ah. Okay, let’s not go any further with that.”
“Good plan.” Laughing, Ash lifted the tray. “Thirsty?”
“For an iced chocolate? Always.” Molly led the way to the kitchen, pulling out a chair and sitting down. “So, how’s work going with Ben?”
“Good.” Ash handed her one of the plastic cups and sat opposite, peeling the plastic lid off her own. “We know what each other does and we keep to our respective sides.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“As long as I don’t try to put doilies under the tool boxes and curtains at the windows, we get along fine.”
“Doilies? Curtains?”
“It makes sense in the workshop world, trust me.”
“Okaaaay.” Using the straw as a spoon, Molly scooped up a bit of chocolate-sprinkled cream and popped it into her mouth, moaning as the cream and chocolate melted on her tongue. “Oh my God, that is so good.”
“Isn’t it?” Ash took a mouthful of drink. “Decadent.”
“I haven’t had anything like this for about a year or more.”
“Then enjoy.”
After a few seconds silence, Molly looked at Ash. “So, you and Scott met in a very interesting way.”
“I wouldn’t call breaking down on the side of the road interesting.”
“How about when four ruggedly good-looking bikies rolled up to lend a hand? I bet that had your heart going.”
“It had it going all right, but not for the reasons you think.” At Molly’s blank look, Ash added, “I was scared stiff. Four bikies and one woman? You do the maths.”
“Oh yeah, I guess I see where you’re coming from.” Molly thoughtfully sucked on the straw. “In that case, it would have been a little scary.”
“Turned out they were leather-clad knights on big chrome and black motorbikes.”
“Now, Ryder would like that term. Scott? Not so sure about that.”
“Doesn’t matter, he’ll always be my knight in leathers.”
Molly paused. “You know how kinky that sounds, right?”
“You don’t know Scott.” Ash’s cheeks went bright red. “I mean…”
“Yeah, let’s not go there, all right?” Laughing, Molly swirled the cream around the top of the plastic cup. “So, you’re friends with Del and Dee, too, huh?”
“They’re nice girls. I have lunch with them most days. Why don’t you join us? We usually have lunch around twelve.”
“Thanks, but today I want to get a feel for what I need to do, make a bit of headway. But I’ll join you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow’s Saturday, most of the businesses in town are shut by lunchtime.”
“Of course. Monday, then?”
Ash grinned. “Actually, tonight you’re coming to have dinner with Scott and me, aren’t you?”
“Oh yeah. Scott’s picking me up.”
Fall for You Page 5