Kirk grinned. “Ryder’s taking bets on who wins.”
“And the odds?”
“Heavily in favour of Arthur.”
“I’m nothing if not determined.”
“Always for the underdog.”
“Bet your arse.”
Watching the easy banter between the men, Elissa couldn’t help but smile a little. It felt good to smile for no particular reason. It had been a long time since she’d done that.
“I have to get a move on.” Kirk glanced once more in the window of the newsagency where the kittens were running riot down the aisle. “Ah man, I’d have loved to be here when Ryder gets an earful.”
“Like I said, he’ll tell us soon.” Simon looked towards the service station. “Shame the café is closed on a Sunday morning.”
“Cheryl and Ernie need the time to recover from your ravenous appetite.” Kirk nodded at Elissa. “See you around, Elissa.”
“Bye.” She watched him stride across the road to the police station.
Silence. Simon didn’t say anything, making her shift a little uneasily. Was he going to say something now? Did he remember? Was she just being an idiot?
She peeked at him.
Simon just smiled that easy smile. “I’m guessing Ash and Scott were still fast asleep when you got up.”
She nodded.
“So join me for breakfast.”
Surprised, she looked fully at him. “What?”
“I’m starving. I was going to grab a bite and have it on the way to feed Arthur.” Placing a hand at her back, he started in the direction of the service station.
Stunned that he could think she’d actually agree, Elissa stopped. “Ash will be expecting me for breakfast.”
His hand didn’t disappear from her back. In fact, she could feel the heat of his big palm through her t-shirt. It was…delicious. Comforting, which was odd because why the heck did she need comforting?
Straightening her shoulders, she lifted her chin. “I have to get back. She’ll be up by now, no doubt wondering where I am.” A good excuse to make her escape.
“No worries.” Simon pulled a mobile phone from his pocket, flipped it open, pressed a couple of keys and put the phone to his ear.
Damned if his smile wasn’t just all-gosh congenial.
“Look,” Elissa began, a touch irritated, “I don’t want to wake them up and-”
“Ash? Simon,” he said happily. “I’m here in town with Elissa. Yeah, she went for a walk. I’m going to grab some breakfast at the café and - really? You’ll make me breakfast? Sure, I’ve got plenty of time. I can feed Arthur on the way. We’ll be there in…” He glanced at his watch, frowned a little in thought. “Twenty, twenty five minutes? No worries. Looking forward to it.” Smiling, he flipped the phone closed and shoved it back in his pocket. “Man, I can’t wait. Ash cooks the best breakfast.”
Crap on a stick, he looked so happy, so bloody content that there was no way Elissa could refuse to accompany him. So she smiled coolly and allowed him to place that big palm at her back.
The man guided her politely across the road to where an old white Holden panel van was parked, but she had the funniest feeling that his hand could just as easily slip around to grab her waist if she decided to halt. Dumb thought.
She wasn’t even sure why the thought of accompanying him should irritate her so much. Oh wait, she thought as he opened the passenger door for her and stood waiting with that easy smile for her to get in, maybe it was the way he so effortlessly seemed to take over in that damned easy-going way that no decent person could actually take umbrage at - except for her. She was taking umbrage.
Or maybe that was just her guilty conscious pricking at her. The man had been nothing but polite and friendly. He’d just taken it for granted that she wouldn’t mind a lift home seeing as she’d made that excuse to get away from him. Not that he was aware of that last part.
She watched Simon stride around the front of the car. Irritated she might be, but she had to admit he cut a fine figure in his uniform. The pants legs outlined his muscled thighs with every step, the short sleeves of his shirt revealing the bulge and flex of his biceps and triceps.
Man was totally built.
Man was also a little dangerous, but in a way she couldn’t quite figure out. Talk about imagination overload, she must be suffering jet-lag or something. Lack of sleep, that was probably it.
The panel van rocked a little as he got in, Simon flashing her a wide grin as he pulled on the seat belt. Nothing but friendliness on his handsome face, nothing but friendliness in his smile. He wasn’t asking anything of her.
She really was turning into a real bitch. Kind of like when he’d been so kind to her while she’d been blubbering her eyes out on the balcony and been so suspicious of him, and he’d simply been kind. Like now. Man, she was a bitch.
Then again, look at her pedigree. Was it any wonder?
Pushing that unwelcome thought aside, Elissa took a deep breath, annoyed at herself, determined to be pleasant. Her problems were her own, she didn’t need to take them out on innocent bystanders intent on being, well, friendly.
With renewed determination to be bloody nice even if it killed her, she slipped her seatbelt on and smiled at Simon. “So, Arthur first?”
“Absolutely.” He glanced over his shoulder, checked the mirrors both sides as he backed out onto the road. “Poor little bugger’s probably hungry.”
She settled back in the seat. “So tell me about Arthur.”
Sliding the van into gear, Simon started driving along the main street. “Arthur is an old black cat that belonged to Mrs Tanner. She died a week ago, so basically Arthur is an orphan.”
“An orphan,” she echoed.
“Yep. Mrs Tanner didn’t have rellies so I thought I better take him on.”
“What about her friends?”
“A couple tried, but Arthur isn’t what you’d call friendly.”
“Unlike you.”
Simon grinned.
“So Arthur is old and cranky, and you’re intent on adopting him.”
“Oh, I’ve adopted him. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
“That’s kind of weird.”
He just grinned again.
“What if Arthur doesn’t like you?”
“Arthur doesn’t like anyone.”
“Yet you’re prepared to take him on.”
“Yep.”
“Just like that.”
“Yep.”
Partially turning in the seat, she studied him. He certainly didn’t look worried. “What if he runs away?”
“I’ll just have to look for him.”
“You’re an odd man, Simon.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled in that engaging way. “You think?”
“You’re the talk of the town, going by the sounds of it.”
“Probably.”
“It doesn’t bother you?”
“Why should it?” Flicking on the indicator, he turned into a side street.
“Big tough fireman chasing an itty bitty kitty? Doesn’t that kind of spoil your reputation?”
“Sweetheart, my rep certainly isn’t being a big, tough fireman.”
“A sap for a cat?”
“Have you been talking to Ryder?”
“No.”
He glanced sideways at her, amusement clear on his face.
Okay, so he wasn’t worried about spoiling his rep. That was nice. And where she came from, unusual.
The panel van turned into the driveway of a big, old, wooden cottage, the dilapidated fence sporting a ‘For Sale’ sign on it. Straggling rose bushes lined the driveway.
Simon gazed at the house for several seconds in silence before unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the door. Getting out, he straightened and started to walk away.
Man had a nice arse.
Suddenly he stopped, turning and coming back to bend down to look at her through the open window of his door. “Coming?”
“Me?”
she asked in surprise.
“Sure.”
“Uh…”
“You might be lucky enough to see Arthur. Besides, he might respond better to a woman.”
“He might eat me, also.”
Simon winked. “I’ll protect you.”
The wink combined with the twinkle in his eyes had her smiling and pushing open the door before she realised it. “I’ll hold you to that.”
The driveway was dirt, puffs of it rising into the air as she walked, making her frown down at her sneakers before she caught herself and raised her head. It doesn’t matter. It does not matter.
That brief few seconds was enough to wipe the smile from her face, and it was more than obvious that Simon noticed, his gaze dropping to her sneakers then back up to her face, but rather than ask her anything he simply led her around the back of the house.
The dirt driveway led to a dilapidated shed and a leaning gate that was half off its hinges. Opening it, he stood aside so she could go through ahead of him. A small stone pathway led around to the back of the house and a large expanse of lawn. A clothes line, surprisingly new, stood upright in the middle of the lawn. Two wrought iron white chairs stood on the sagging veranda. In one of the chairs laid Arthur.
The black cat eyed them narrowly, his whiskers bristling even as his ears laid flat. He watched warily as they stood and observed him.
“Hey, Arthur,” Simon said quietly. “Hungry?”
Arthur’s ears flicked.
“Got food for you, boy.” He moved calmly, taking the two steps up onto the veranda that gave an alarming squeak under his weight.
Warily, Arthur sat up.
A door led into a room on the right through which Simon disappeared. “I’ll just crack open a tin of fish for you, refill your water bowl.”
Elissa watched Arthur, who kept Simon in his sights. Lifting his head he sniffed the air.
He was an old cat, it was more than evident by the way he stood slowly, stretching a little stiffly. Though short, his coat looked like it needed a brush.
Simon reappeared holding a saucer of food. Standing in the doorway of the room, he studied Arthur. “If you came home with me, you could be snoozing on the bed.”
“He won’t let you pick him up?” Elissa queried.
“Nope. He thinks I’m the spawn of Satan.”
She nearly laughed out loud at that. “That’s a little strong, don’t you think?”
“Tell Arthur that.” Simon took a step towards him.
The old cat’s gaze didn’t move from him.
Another step.
This time he jumped down off the chair, watching warily.
Simon didn’t push the issue, squatting instead to place the saucer on the veranda. “Here you go, old feller. Eat up.”
Arthur sniffed the air, took a step forward, then sat and waited.
Simon sighed. “Let’s go.”
Watching the two of them, the disappointment on Simon’s face, the wariness in Arthur’s posture, Elissa couldn’t help but feel sorry for them both. “Maybe if you spent a little time with him?”
“I have. I do.” Placing his hand at her back, Simon ushered her across the lawn. “But he won’t come too near. He’s too skittish.”
“I guess falling out of a tree with you didn’t help.”
“Certainly didn’t win me any points.” Simon cast her a wry look as he opened the gate and stepped aside. “Like I said, spawn of Satan.”
Elissa laughed. “I can’t see anyone thinking of you like that.”
“He runs if I get too close.”
She started for the van. “I can’t see anyone running from you.”
There was silence for several seconds before he murmured, “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?”
There seemed to be a wealth of meaning in that short sentence, a whole lot of meaning, one that had her swinging around in alarm to stare at him. His gaze met hers squarely, directly, and so damned steadily it had her heart bumping hard. Did he remember? Was he thinking of what happened? Did he-
Still walking backwards, her heel hit an uneven patch of sand, her arms wind-milling out as she started to lose her balance.
Simon moved fast, two big steps and he was there, his arm wrapping around her back, jerking her upright and against him, his harder frame cushioning her as she fell against him.
Several things hit her at once - his scent, clean, a hint of light aftershave, a touch of soap, the heat of his body, the swells of muscle against her, the strength of his arm around her.
Gripping his broad shoulders, pressed up against his body, she looked up at him uncertainly. Her emotions in sudden chaos, her heart beating so fast, so hard, she was sure he could feel it through their clothes.
He looked down at her, his big body steady as a rock, ungiving beneath her softer one, his arm still around her waist. The top of her head barely grazed his shoulders, making her feel so much smaller than him. His arm around her back held her close, kept her against him in a stance that was almost protective.
No smile was on his face now, though. His gaze was unwavering, his thoughts hidden as he looked down at her. His attention dropped to her lips, lingered before moving back up to her eyes.
Mouth dry, she waited for the recriminations, maybe another kiss, maybe - what? Hell if she knew. He wasn’t giving anything of his thoughts away.
Suddenly he released her, his arm disappearing from her back leaving her feeling strangely vulnerable. “All right?”
“I - yes.” Feeling a little disturbed - okay, a whole lot disturbed - Elissa stepped back quickly. “Sorry. I can be a bit clumsy at times.”
“No worries.” He turned, giving her his silhouette, his hand there again at her back as he ushered her across the uneven dirt surface of the driveway.
Elissa’s thoughts churned. What did his sudden inscrutable expression mean? Did he remember? Was he going to start asking questions? Was she over-thinking, over-reacting? Maybe he just thought she was a clumsy ox.
He opened the van door, waited until she settled into the passenger seat before closing it again.
Watching him walk around the front of the van made her realise anew how perfect his body was, the peak of fitness and health, while she was…squishy.
The sudden burn in the back of her throat was forced away with several hard swallows before he’d even gotten inside the van. Practice makes perfect.
Inhaling deeply, she shot him a sideways glance as he turned the key in the ignition, the van rumbling to life. Say something? Don’t say something? Forget it?
He looked back as he reversed the van, pulling back out onto the road. As he turned back to the front, he caught her glance and stilled, hazel eyes regarding her levelly. “Okay?”
“Ah…yes. I just…” She cleared her throat. “Are you?”
“Sure.”
“Okay.”
He looked at her for several seconds then slowly smiled.
The relief of it almost had her sagging.
“Okay,” he repeated. “Let’s go and attack Ash’s breakfast. I’m famished.”
“Good plan.” Relieved, she looked out the front windscreen.
Bewildered, she had an internal conversation while outwardly donning a cool, calm façade.
Oh my God! What is wrong with you?
Nothing. Nothing is wrong.
There is. Why do you care if he isn’t smiling? It’s just a man smiling, for crying out loud.
I like his smile.
Big deal. Just a smile, Elissa, just a smile. People smile all the time at you, doesn’t mean they care.
But his smile is warm and friendly. I like it.
You want it, you mean. You crave acceptance.
No, I crave…
Acceptance.
Okay. Sure.
His acceptance means nothing. He’s just being friendly because you’re Ash’s friend. You can’t rely on everyone. If you want acceptance, you need to be perfect, or as close to it as you can.
Not now. Not anymore. I’m going to be me.
You? Do you even know how to be you?
Biting her lip, Elissa unconsciously wrung her hands. God, the same internal battle she’d had for months, each battle growing stronger. Each battle hitting a wall. But not this time, she assured herself. Not this time.
A sudden movement from Simon had her jumping but he didn’t look at her or comment, flicking on the CD player and settling back in the seat.
Soft music filled the cabin, a song she was familiar with, and almost instantly she started to relax, the tension in her body unwinding bit by bit as the words and music filtered through her.
With a barely audible sigh, she leaned her head back against the head rest and watched the scenery pass outside the passenger window.
Somehow the silence in the van was a little more cosy, more at ease, and she lowered her lashes a little, letting her troubled thoughts disappear for awhile under the soothing sound of music.
Music she understood. Music she lived with, music was her soul, her crutch, her quiet times, her rowdy times. Music she breathed.
But it wasn’t her life. That was one of the big problems. The other, well…she’d fled that for awhile, but like all reality it was always lingering in the back of her mind.
Feeling the burden of it, she forced her thoughts on the music, unconsciously starting to hum to the music until without knowing it, she was singing softly to the song.
~*~
Sitting at the kitchen table, Simon mopped up the last of the egg yoke with his fifth slice of toast, popped it in his mouth and chewed before swallowing. With a satisfied sigh, he pushed the plate away and pulled the cup of hot tea forward. “Ash, I love you.”
She dimpled at him from across the table.
Scott rolled his eyes. “You love Cheryl, you love Ash, hell, you even love Robby.”
Elissa glanced at Ash.
“Robby runs the café at the servo,” Ash explained. “Cheryl owns the local town café.”
“Simon loves anyone who can cook him a decent meal.” Scott paused. “Or simply buy him a decent meal. He’s not that fussy.”
“What can I say?” Leaning back in the chair, Simon rubbed his flat abdomen and grinned. “Food and me are like bees and honey. We just belong.”
“That’s so wrong, and so weirdly right.” Scott pushed to his feet. “I’m going to get dressed for work. Seeing as you got a free breaky, you can give me a ride.”
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