Lie to Me

by Verdenius, Angela

  “I’m fine.” She wiped her arm on the blouse, the blood smearing across the flower-patterned material.

  “You’re hurt.” His gaze dropped to her ankle. “Babe, you’re a bit of a mess.”

  “You’re such a charmer.”

  “Anywhere else?”

  “Nope.”

  “Right.” Catching her hands, he turned them palm up, frowning at the abrasions. “We need to clean this up.”

  “I’ll do it as soon as I get home.”

  “We’re closer to my place.” He took his mobile from his pocket.

  “I’m not walking to your place.”

  “You’re right, you’re not.” He scrolled through the names on his phone.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Calling Kirk to see if he’ll drop you and the bike at my place.”

  “I just told you I’m not going to your place.”

  “And I just told you that you are.” He glanced up at her. “What have you got at home?”

  “A sink, chairs, table, bed-”

  “Oh, very cute, Dee. I mean in the way of First Aid supplies.”

  “Bandaids.” Her gaze slid away, slid back. “Stuff.”

  “Uh-huh. We’re going to my place.”

  “I don’t want to disturb anyone.”

  “Babe, I can’t take you on my bike with no helmet and you’re not walking home.”

  “Shit.” Folding her arms, she scowled.

  Man, she always looked cute when she did that, those lush lips pursing in irritation that she couldn’t get her way, those thick, dark eyelashes sweeping down to cover those pale blue eyes as she toed the dirt with one shoe. “I hate being a bother.”

  “Kirk won’t mind.” He continued scrolling through the names. “Okay, here he-”

  “Wait!”

  “Jesus, Dee, some days you try a man’s patience. You’re coming to my place, end of story.”

  “No, you nong. Look.”

  Following the direction of her finger, he turned to see a blue battered work ute pulling in behind his motorbike. ‘Ben’s Auto Repairs’ was painted on both sides. The driver’s door opened, an older man getting out, his wrinkled, leathered face not cracking even a smile as he strode around to come to a stop next to them.

  “Problem?” Ben asked.

  “Had a bit of a spill,” Dee replied before Ryder could say anything. “Can I catch a lift home?”

  Ryder cut his gaze to her. That’s what she thought.

  “Sure.” Ben looked at him. “All right?”

  “What are you asking him for?” She started pushing the bike towards the back of the ute. “He’s got no say in it.”

  Ben arched one eyebrow at Ryder.

  Striding forward, Ryder gently but firmly elbowed Dee aside, taking the bike from her and lifting it with ease to lower into the tray. “If you could drop her off at my place I’d be grateful, Ben.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” she said immediately. “My place, Ben.”

  He looked from one to another of them. “Uh-huh.”

  Placing his hand at her back, Ryder steered her over to the passenger door. “My place, Ben.”

  “My body, my place,” she shot back immediately.

  “Your arse, my hand. My place.”

  “As if.”

  “Don’t try me too hard.” Opening the door, he pushed her firmly down into the seat. “Buckle up.”

  She glared up at him, half amused, half annoyed. “You’re such an arse.”

  “Yep.” He shut the door, straightening to look at Ben. “My place. Don’t care what she says, my place. Got it?”

  “Isn’t that kind of like kidnapping?”

  “No, it’s making Dee do what’s sensible.”

  “She doesn’t seem to agree.”

  Ryder grinned. “Have you ever known her to agree with me?”

  Amused, Ben squinted at Dee in the front seat. “She’s mouthing something.”

  “She’s always mouthing off. Don’t listen to her.” Crossing to the bike, Ryder donned the helmet, fastening the strap securely beneath his chin. “Whatever happens, whatever she says, ignore it. My place.”

  “Do I get danger money?”

  “Don’t worry, she’ll take it out on me, not you.”

  “Can I watch?”

  Swinging his leg over the seat, Ryder started the bike, the roar of the engine filling the air. “Trust me, I’ll win. I always do.”

  Ben gave him a funny look. “You think?”

  “Sure.” With a nod at him, Ryder added, “Thanks, Ben.”

  “No worries.”

  Flipping down the visor, Ryder steered the motorbike onto the road before opening the throttle and heading for home, fully confident that Ben would bring Dee to his house. And Dee, no matter how much she might protest, would buckle to commonsense. He had medical supplies, she had shit-all in her First Aid kit. He knew, he’d seen it, which reminded him that he had to stock it up for her. The woman couldn’t make a decent First Aid kit to save her life. One day it might.

  Pulling up in front of the garage, Ryder turned off the bike and got off, opening the garage door and wheeling the bike in beside his Toyota Corolla before backing the car out so he could take Dee home later.

  Going up the veranda steps, he caught sight of Jezebel, the little stray that had started out lurking outside his back door, stealing scraps from his bin, and now had gotten game enough to come inside after he’d spent a few weeks cajoling her.

  The little tortoiseshell’s belly was getting rounder, and it wasn’t from just food.

  Shaking his head, Ryder held the door open and she trotted past. Confident now with him, she was wary enough to disappear when anyone else came, so he doubted Dee would even see her. Woman would laugh her head off if she ever knew.

  Following Jezebel inside, he took off his helmet and leather jacket, stashing them in the hall cupboard before hooking his keys on the inside of the door and closing it.

  “Hungry?”

  Jezebel wound around his legs, meowing.

  “I’m not surprised.” Bending, he stroked her head, smiling as she came up on her hind legs to press her front paws against his legs, closing her eyes and purring when he fondled her ears. “Hussy.”

  Going into the kitchen, he filled her biscuit bowl and placed it in the laundry, knowing Jezebel would scurry in there and hide when she heard voices.

  No sooner had he done so than the sound of Ben’s ute arriving came to him. Jezebel peeked around the door of the laundry before ducking back inside.

  By the time he’d walked back down the hallway and out onto the veranda, Ben had the bike leaning against the garage wall, Dee standing beside it.

  “Thanks so much, Ben,” she said. “I hope I didn’t put you out of your way.”

  “No worries.” He got back into the ute. “Look after yourself.”

  “Thanks, I will.” She watched as he backed the ute out onto the road and drove off.

  Ryder came up beside her. “Come on in.”

  “Is that a command or a request?”

  “Whatever it needs to be to get you inside, babe.”

  Turning her head, she looked up at him. “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself, you know.”

  Crooking his arm around her neck, he nudged her towards the veranda. “Come on, tough chick. I want to tend your war wounds.”

  She fell into step with him. “I got them in the line of duty, you know.”

  “You tackled Yvonne with your bike?”

  “What makes you think it was Yvonne?”

  The breeze stirred her blonde hair, several silky strands drifting across his arm. The scent of peaches came from her hair. Huh, she must be trying a new shampoo. Normally her hair smelled like apples.

  Ryder gave the thick braid that reached almost to her waist a gentle tug. “Because Yvonne came tearing past me and it was mere minutes later that I found you on the side of the road. It doesn’t take a genius to guess what happened
.”

  “Oh, that explains how you figured it out then.”

  Jesus, she had a sharp tongue to match her biting wit. Another tug on her braid. “Just get inside.”

  He waited as she went ahead of him up the steps, his gaze following the sway of her hips. Dee had nicely rounded hips, generous curves both above and below her surprisingly small waist. The woman had a set of bosoms on her, no doubt about it, and the fact that she was, well, top heavy, had had more than a couple of blokes’ eyes turning to her. Not that Dee had ever seemed interested. It had been a long time since she’d dated.

  Ryder sure as hell hadn’t been amused, especially knowing some of the blokes. Not one of them was good enough for her. Luckily she hadn’t taken any of them up on their offers of a date, or he’d have had to have a quiet word to them.

  Not that she knew that or she’d have done more than rip his head off. Luckily all the way around that she’d never know.

  Dee glanced down at him. “What are you smiling about?”

  “Never you mind.” Taking the last two steps up onto the veranda, he placed his hand in the small of her back, ushering her towards the door. “Let’s get you inside and assess the damage.”

  “Minor,” she informed him. “Very minor.”

  “I’m more qualified than you to make that judgement.”

  She laughed in his face. “If you’d thought the injuries were serious I’d be at the hospital, not here.”

  True. Still didn’t matter. Opening the door, he gestured. “Inside.”

  Rolling her eyes, she did as bidden.

  The security screen clicked shut and out of habit he flicked the lock. Years of working in the city had taught him the advisability of security no matter where one lived, even in his quiet, friendly, home town of Gully’s Fall.

  Before she could say anything, he said, “Kitchen. Take a chair.”

  “Take it where?”

  “You won’t be so cocky when I’m putting Betadine on your abrasions.”

  Dee limped into the kitchen. “I can go to the bathroom and do it myself, you know.”

  “But I can see your side better than you.” Crossing to the sink, he pulled out a bowl from the cupboard and filled it with warm water. “Take off your shoe and blouse.”

  There was silence for several seconds before she asked in disbelief, “Take off my blouse?”

  Chapter 2

  “Yep.”

  “Take off my blouse?”

  “That’s what I said.” When she didn’t answer, he glanced at her to find her staring at him. “Well?”

  “I’m not taking off my blouse.”

  “Why not?”

  Dee looked around before staring at him incredulously. “Because I’m not!”

  Oh boy, she decided now to get modest. “Woman, I’ve seen you naked before.”

  “When we were kids!”

  Crossing to the table, he placed the bowl of water near her elbow before going to the pantry to retrieve the First Aid kit. “I’m an ambo, Dee, a professional. I’m not about to ogle your goods.”

  “You’re not going to see my goods full stop.”

  He dropped the First Aid kit on the table. “You’ve got a bra on, what’s the big deal?”

  “Ryder, I am not-”

  “I’m getting a towel. Don’t move.” Going into the laundry which opened up off the kitchen, he spotted Jezebel sitting on the basket of dirty clothes with eyes like saucers. “It’s all right, girl.”

  “It’s not all right,” Dee yelled back.

  “Not you.” Grabbing a towel from the clean stack of washing he had yet to put away, Ryder moved back out into the kitchen to see Dee on her feet.

  The woman was impossible. Frowning, he pointed at the chair. “Sit.”

  “Look, this is-”

  “Now, babe.” Dropping the towel onto the table beside the bowl of water, he looked down at her.

  Her cheeks were flushed. “I’m not taking my blouse off and that’s final.”

  Cripes. He could argue all day or he could simply remove it himself, but that would involve a tussle which would result in her possibly being even more hurt. “Look, I’ll get you one of my shirts, all right?”

  “No, it’s not all right.”

  Leaning down, he narrowed his eyes. “What’s your problem?”

  “You are.” She glared back up at him. “I came here to get my scratches fixed, not to give you a peep show.”

  “I’m not interested in seeing your-”

  “Good!” She yanked the side of her blouse up to reveal the abrasions and laceration. “This is as far as I go.”

  It just wasn’t worth arguing about. The longer he farted around arguing with her, the longer it took to get her injuries cleaned.

  “Fine.” He dipped clean gauze in the water. “Lean against the table.”

  Silently, Dee braced one hand on the table and leaned sideways, holding up her blouse with the other hand, making sure it was well below her bra.

  Shaking his head, Ryder worked quickly and efficiently, not bothered in the least by her silence. It wouldn’t be the first time she gave him the silent treatment. It made a change from her usual sharp retorts when she was annoyed with him, which of late seemed more and more often. What was with that, anyway?

  The warmth from her body was amazing, he could actually feel it as though her aura were touching him - if he believed in auras. Actually, he couldn’t say he didn’t, he’d seen a lot of strange things in his years as an ambo, but he wasn’t about to admit he did, either. All he’d say was that he was open-minded.

  Definitely not saying that around Dee.

  “What’s so funny?” she queried.

  There was an odd infliction in her voice, a slight huskiness as he laid his fingertips against her ribcage while applying Betadine to the abrasions with his other hand.

  Man, her skin did kind of feel silky, too, he’d never noticed that before. Warm and silky. Mind you, he’d never really had a reason to touch her naked skin. Sure, he’d often crooked an arm around her neck or shoulders, but apart from that, no.

  “Ryder?”

  Pulled from his musings, he reached out for a small Primapore to put on the laceration that was now only oozing a tiny amount of blood. “What?”

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “You were grinning.”

  “Just thinking.”

  “Oh, you can do that while you work as well? I’m impressed.”

  “I’m surprised I can do anything around you.” When she didn’t hit him with a fast, hard comeback, he smoothed the Primapore over the laceration and straightened to find her looking at him oddly. Worried that she was feeling faint, he rested his hand on her waist. “You all right, babe?”

  “Sure.” She hesitated.

  “Something wrong?”

  “No.”

  “Okay.” He knelt down on one knee. “Sit.”

  Dee sat. “I’m not a dog, you know.”

  Slipping her shoe from her foot, he lifted her foot onto his knee, studying the laceration that was now mostly clotted blood. “Be more obedient if you were.”

  “Is that what you like in your women?”

  He burst out laughing. “Dee, you are not like my women.” Dipping clean gauze in the warm water, he wrung it out and started cleaning the wound.

  She fell silent.

  Her foot was small, neat little toes, nails painted pale pink. She’d always been partial to pink ever since they were kids.

  Silence filled the room while he cleaned and dressed the laceration on her ankle. When he placed her foot back on the floor and straightened, it was to find her looking searchingly at him.

  Wondering what she was thinking - and with Dee it could be anything - he pulled another chair close and sat down facing her, capturing one of her hands in his and turning it palm up so he could clean the scratches on it.

  “I’m sorry,” Dee said unexpectedly.

 
; Surprised, he looked at her. “Pardon?”

  “I’m sorry. You’re helping me and I’m being bitchy. Again. Sorry.”

  He laughed. “Dee, you’re always bitchy.”

  She stiffened. “I’m not.”

  “Babe, you could strip wallpaper off walls with that caustic tongue of yours.”

  “There’s a difference between being honest and being bitchy.”

  “Sure there is.” He started cleaning her palm. “With most women anyway.”

  “You know, Ryder, you’re not such a prize yourself.”

  And there it was, the smart-mouth. “Jesus, tell me what you really think.”

  “I always do.”

  “I noticed.” Partly annoyed, partly amused, he dabbed Betadine on her palm.

  “Glad you noticed something.”

  Leaning back, he screwed the cap on the bottle of Betadine while watching her studying her palms. “Good enough?”

  “Just what I’d expect from you.”

  “Don’t try to say it’s crappy.”

  “I’m not. While you may be a dumb arse at times, you’re an excellent paramedic.”

  Okay, that sure as shit shocked him. He blinked. “What?”

  Dee looked him right in the eyes. “When I need an ambo, there’s no one else I’d rather have turn up than you.”

  Ryder was so taken aback at the unexpected compliment that he could only stare at her.

  A slow blush crept into her cheeks the longer he stared. Abruptly, she stood. “Okay, well, enough sloppiness. I have things to do even if you don’t.”

  He wasn’t sure what to say. “Dee, I…wow, that was a compliment. From you.”

  “Don’t get used to it.” Limping away, she bent down to yank the laces loose off her other tennis shoe, giving him a good view of a very shapely backside. Bending her leg up, she pulled the tennis shoe off.

  He was still sitting watching her with astonishment when she turned to face him, coming close to bend and retrieve her bloodied shoe from beside him.

  Unbidden, his gaze followed her down to stop on the flesh revealed by her gaping blouse as she bent.

  Man, the woman sported an impressive amount of boob. Through the gaping top of her blouse he could see the generous mounds clasped lovingly but firmly in an ice blue satin bra. As she straightened, he had a sudden whiff of her perfume, a mixture of tea rose and the peaches from her hair. Nice.