Fly with Me

by Angela Verdenius

  He still held her mobile.

  She refused to reach for it.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently.

  “No.” She eased her grip on the steering wheel, trying to ignore the flush burning up into her cheeks. Christ, was this going to be the norm? Him meeting her when she was falling apart? “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “Okay.” He weighed the mobile in his hand but didn’t remove his gaze from her.

  Unable to meet that steady, sure regard, she turned back to the front to look out the windscreen. “I’m fine.” Bloody hell, why did that bloody tear have to choose now to escape?

  Gritting her teeth, she reached up to wipe it away, only to be startled when her fingers touched a broad, calloused hand cupping her chin gently while a big, calloused thumb scraped the tear from her cheek with a softness that was so at odds with the strength she felt coming from him.

  “Fine, huh?” he asked quietly.

  His hand still cupped her chin.

  The desire to cuddle her cheek into that big, warm palm was almost overwhelming, but she steeled her emotions, cursing inwardly for making a fool of herself once again.

  Pulling back, she took a deep breath, ignoring the waver of it. “Yes. Fine.”

  Withdrawing his hand, Simon laid it on the door frame, the muscles in his arms flexing as he moved, the big biceps bunching as he put weight on it, leaning on the door frame as he continued to study her.

  Huh, he didn’t have a jacket on either, she noted vaguely, nor goose bumps. In fact, she could feel the warmth from his skin as though it were flush against her.

  Both a little disturbed by that thought and a whole lot embarrassed by his finding her in such an obvious emotional state, she reached for the key, opening her mouth to tell him good bye - she just had to get the hell out of there - when thunder rumbled, the heavens suddenly opened up and rain came down in a torrent.

  That had Simon moving all right. His arm disappeared. Through the windscreen she saw a vague, blurred outline, then the passenger door swung open and Simon dived in, the small car rocking under his weight as he slammed the door shut behind him.

  “Hoo boy.” He shoved his hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. “Man, that is coming down.”

  Mouth open, she could only stare at him. Now what?

  Steam started to film on the inside of the car windscreen, and for the first time she noticed that he held two plastic bags from which steam curled. The smell of hot takeaway filled the car.

  He turned to face her, in the small car seeming even bigger, taller, those broad shoulders filling her view, those long legs definitely cramped in the small foot space. His scent slid by her, clean, male, masculine, a faint hint of aftershave. The warmth of his body seemed to radiate out, curl languidly through her, draw her to him.

  Settling back against the corner of the seat, he spread his arm out along the closed window sill as much as he could, which meant he still had to bend it, his pose lazy.

  Man, he was handsome. Upset as she was, startled at his seeking shelter in her car - well, Ash’s car - she couldn’t help but notice those good looks. That classically handsome face was relaxed, his expression pleasant, those firm lips in a small smile. Matched with his lazy pose, he looked like he could almost fall asleep right then and there. Even his eyelids were partially down in an indolent way.

  But the knowing gleam in those hazel eyes belied that easy-going façade. There was nothing lazy about Simon, nothing indolent. He was watching her with unnerving keenness.

  Clearing her throat, seeking to divert him, she moistened her lips. “Need a lift back to the fire station?”

  “Hmmm?” His gaze lingered on her lips.

  Oh boy. She swallowed, her hands tightening on the steering wheel as a whole other emotion slid through her. Expectation? Don’t be ridiculous. “Did you walk from work?”

  “Oh. Yeah.” His smile widened a little, his gaze lifting to look her right in the eyes.

  She glanced away. “I can drop you off. Save you from getting wet.”

  “Cheers, that’d be nice. But wait.”

  She stopped in the act of turning the key. “Why?”

  “Because it’s teeming down and there isn’t a clear view of the road.”

  “Oh.” Feeling stupid, she eased back against the seat, allowing her hands to slip from the wheel to clasp in her lap.

  “Sure fire way to get arse-ended.” He opened a bag, checked the contents. “Want a bite to eat?”

  “Ah…no. I was…” She glanced at where he sat. “I was getting some bread.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re sitting on it.”

  “Oh, shit.” Hoiking up one lean hip, he felt around, pulled forth a very squashed bag of bread. Holding it up, he quirked a brow. “Oops.”

  She couldn’t help it, a small laugh escaping her. Taking it from his hand, she tossed it into the back seat. “It’s okay. Robby had a couple more loaves inside. I’ll get another loaf before we go.”

  “I’ll pay.” Up went those lean hips again as he worked his hand into his back pocket.

  Holy heck, the movement had his dark blue pants straining against his muscular thighs, the muscles in his arms bunching and flexing as he worked his position.

  Her mouth went dry. “It’s okay. No problem.”

  He flashed her a grin that charmingly popped his dimple into view as he dropped that mighty fine arse back into the seat, setting the car rocking gently. “Got it.”

  “Really, Simon, it’s fine. It’s just a loaf of bread.”

  “Sweetheart, I’m very serious about my food. It’s never just a loaf. It’s a loaf.” Fishing out a five dollar note from his wallet, he reached out, caught her wrist and raised it. “Here.” He placed the money in her open palm.

  But he didn’t release her. Instead, his big palm slid from her wrist to cup her hand, long fingers curling over hers to shift her hand from open to closed. His hold was warm, gentle, and when he let her go she felt the loss keenly.

  In an attempt to recover her pose, she held up the five dollar note. “This is too much.”

  “Keep the change. It’ll be a little something towards giving me shelter.”

  “The shelter comes free.”

  His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Then you can put the change in a charity box.”

  It’d be silly to argue over a few dollars. “Okay. Thanks.”

  “No worries.” He watched as she tucked the money into the cup holder below the CD player.

  When she straightened and looked at him, it took her aback to find his expression serious. It took her even more aback when he suddenly swung the steaming bags of hot food between the seats to place in the footrest space behind his seat.

  It totally unnerved her when he straightened to face her and asked bluntly, “What’s wrong?”

  “I - nothing.”

  “You threw the mobile out the window. That’s not ‘nothing’.”

  “I have anger issues.” Lame excuse.

  His expression said he echoed that thought.

  “It was a stupid thing to do.” She looked at his hands. “Where is it?”

  “In my pocket.”

  She looked at that broad chest. Nothing small and rectangular bulged out of his shirt pockets. So it had to be in his pants pockets. Her gaze dropped, searched, got caught on his crotch.

  Was that a…a…?

  Face flushing a little, she looked back up at him.

  Nope, no tell-tale hunger in his eyes for her - as if, anyway - and no sheepishness. So that bulge was maybe him normally. Maybe he was a large man down there as well. Long, thick… She forced her mind from the gutter and met his gaze head-on.

  Okay, that might not be so wise. His eyes were steady, sharp, nothing evident of the lazy, easy-going man she’d known for a short time. Cripes, he was the laid-back one, she remembered Ash telling her.

  There was nothing laid-back now about the man seeming to fill the cabin
of the small car. He might be reclining back against the corner made by the door and the seat, but there was nothing lazy in that suddenly piercing gaze.

  “What happened?” he asked quietly.

  “Nothing I can’t take care of.” She retreated, feeling the door handle digging into her back. “Aren’t you due back at work?”

  “I’m on my dinner break, picking up our dinner. The boys won’t expect me back until this rain clears.”

  “Won’t they come for you?”

  “Once the rain lightens up, but then…” His hand dipped into his hip pocket, withdrew a mobile phone, flipped it open. Pressing a button, he waited a few seconds, watching her the whole time. “Hey, Scott. I’m stuck here at the servo. I’ll be back as soon as the rain eases. Don’t worry about picking me up, Elissa is here, she’s going to give me a lift back. Yeah.” His gaze pinned her to the seat. “I won’t eat everything.” Those hazel eyes dipped to her lips. “Maybe nibble a little.”

  She had to be imagining it. There was no way that had a double meaning, not for her. She tensed a little. What was he thinking? Wanting? Apart from answers?

  His gaze lifted as he laughed suddenly, teeth a white flash in his tanned face. “I’ll be sure to leave something for you all, don’t worry. Okay, ‘bye.” Flipped the phone shut, slid it into his top pocket this time, long fingers sure.

  The laugh died away, but the smile remained. The piercing look vanished so quickly, almost as though it had never been there, and she actually blinked. The intense man of mere minutes ago was gone, the easy-going bloke leaning back against the car door the Simon of which she was more familiar.

  The Simon who obviously had two sides, one of which she was certain was a whole lot more canny than people appeared to give him credit.

  “So,” he drawled, “decided that whoever pissed you off deserved to be tossed into the mud?”

  ~*~

  The change of tact threw her. She blinked, frowned a little. “I guess.”

  “I’d say you fixed them good and proper.” Lifting up his hip again, he dug her mobile out of his pocket, handed it to her.

  There was no missing the way she took it rather reluctantly.

  “Not sure how waterproof it is.” He sought to put her at ease again. “Hitting the ground like that then going into the water.” He watched her slide it into the car door pocket.

  So, she wasn’t going to check it. Interesting.

  Elissa peered out the windscreen, looked out the driver’s window, stared ahead again, took a deep breath.

  Oh yeah, she was nervous. It showed in the way her knuckles went white, the sudden deep breath she took that made her breasts swell so tantalisingly against her blouse.

  The rain drummed on the roof of the car and he was glad, for it gave him the perfect excuse to be in close proximity with her. He had no idea what was going on with her, but one thing he did know, he still felt that pull of attraction regardless of the fact that she’d left him that night at the hotel. One glimpse of the pain in her eyes just minutes ago, her stiff posture, the sobs she choked back, and he was lost. When that tear had escaped to slip down her cheek, well hell, there was no way he could stop himself from wiping it away.

  It was time to stop piss-farting around.

  “Life hasn’t gotten any better, has it, Lis?”

  For several seconds she just looked at the steering wheel, tracing it with one fingertip. He didn’t think she was going to answer at first but then she replied, just as quietly, “You do recognise me.”

  “I never forgot you.” It was the truth, he hadn’t, she’d invaded his dreams several times.

  “I’m sorry I took off.” She still didn’t look at him.

  “I understand that you didn’t want to get involved, however lightly.”

  “Taking off seems to be my forte lately.”

  He studied her. “Are you on the run from someone?”

  “A lot. A couple.” She tipped her head back a little. “Myself.”

  Interesting. Also a little disturbing. “Are you in danger?”

  “Depends on your definition.”

  “What’s your definition?”

  “I’m in danger of losing myself.”

  That sentence just raised all kinds of red flags. Simon’s eyes narrowed a little as he studied her anew. Patiently he let the silence stretch, waiting for her to be the first to break it.

  He didn’t have to wait long.

  She cast him a sidelong glance. “You’re not running screaming.”

  “Nope.”

  “So I haven’t frightened you off.”

  “Takes a lot to do that, sweetheart.”

  “What if I told you that I came here to find myself and I’m still running?”

  “Is someone chasing you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do we need to see Kirk?”

  “The cop?”

  “Yep.”

  She shook her head.

  It was like pulling teeth, the woman wasn’t coming easily. He’d cracked harder nuts. Not as cute, true, but he’d had experience in shaking the tree to make the nut fall and crack. He just had to crack this tempting little nut.

  Crack her before she broke completely. Like Becca did. He made himself more comfortable.

  This time she did look at him, her head turning as she sized him up. “You look like you’re settling in for the long haul.”

  “I am. Well, until the rain eases a bit then duty calls.” He smiled easily. “So, you’re on the run from a lot, a couple, and yourself. You’re being chased. We don’t need to involve the cops. Intriguing.”

  Her gaze slid across his face, he could almost see her brain ticking, wondering how much to tell him. Tell me all.

  Finally, she stated, “It’s nothing illegal.”

  “Okay.” Big relief.

  “Nothing that’s going to hurt Ash or Scott or anyone.”

  He nodded.

  “No one’s going to come here with guns blasting, or a bikie gang wielding whips and chains.”

  “So not a BDSM bikie gang, then.”

  His comment caught her by surprise, a laugh breaking free.

  God, her laugh was as clear as her singing voice, sweet, dulcet. He could listen to her laugh all day. He grinned back at her.

  “No.” Her eyes twinkled. “No BDSM bikie gang.”

  “Shame. That would’ve been worth getting out of bed early to see.”

  “I’m sure.” She relaxed a little, shifting so that she was leaning back against the door.

  Her posture was more at ease, fingers idly smoothing the hem of her pretty blouse, arms more open.

  Time to push just a tiny bit. “So, finding yourself, huh?”

  “I’m a late starter.”

  “Never too late to start finding yourself. Sometimes people stay lost for a long time.”

  “Did you stay lost for a long time?”

  “I was one of the lucky ones. I never got lost.”

  “Huh.” She looked down at her fingers, pleated the hem of her blouse, smoothed it out, pleated it again.

  “My sister got lost.”

  That caught her attention. “You have a sister?”

  “Had.” He paused. The pain had gone, but the memories remained. Some good, some bad.

  “I’m sorry.” She didn’t ask anything further, but she watched him steadily, waiting.

  He watched her silently in turn.

  Finally, she asked hesitantly, “Was it an accident?”

  “No.”

  There was a glimmer of compassion in her eyes. “Suicide.”

  “Yes.”

  “Was it long ago?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was she…was she that lost?”

  “Very lost.” His gaze didn’t waver from her face.

  He watched as she mulled over what he’d said, turning the words over in her mind, thinking about it.

  Suddenly, her gaze shot back to him. “I’m not that lost.”

  “Oka
y.”

  “I’m not. I’m not…” Her throat worked, her mouth opened and closed as she sought to find the words, trying not to offend him, upset him.

  “Suicidal?” he asked gently.

  “Yes.” She inhaled, squared her shoulders, met his gaze again. “I’m not suicidal. I’m not that lost. Not that kind of lost. Different.”

  “Good to know.” And it was. He didn’t really know her state of mind but he knew she was stressed. Stressed to the max, really. “You are tense, though. Anxious.”

  “Not that anxious!” She almost snapped it, her shoulders stiffening.

  “I’m not insinuating anything, Lis. You say you’re okay, I believe you. But I can see you’re unhappy, I can see you’re troubled. I saw it at the hotel, I saw it just now.” He smiled lazily. “Kind of hard to think someone is happy when their mobile sails past your ear.”

  She stared at him for several seconds before exhaling, a tiredness creeping into her tone and face as she slumped back against the door. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s all right.”

  “No, it’s not.” She rubbed her eye with the heel of one hand in a gesture strangely vulnerable. “Are you always this nice?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just me.”

  “Then you’re a nice bloke.”

  “Thanks.”

  Reaching up, she played with a stray lock of fair hair that had escaped the neat bun at the back of her head. “I guess I’m just a little sensitive.”

  Here it came, or maybe just a little of it. Whatever, he’d take it.

  “I guess I’m always kind of looking for criticism.”

  He waited.

  She looked sideways at him. “I know what you’re doing.”

  He arched an eyebrow.

  “You’re making me talk by being quiet.”

  He just smiled.

  “It’s not going to work.”

  He shrugged easily.

  Silence filled the small car for several minutes.

  The rain on the roof continued to pelt down, but he could hear a distinct shift of it, a slight lessening. It wouldn’t be long before visibility would enable her to drive him back to the fire station.

  Still he waited, watching her with an easy attitude that was calculated to make her feel safe, to make her feel that he was really listening to her. He didn’t have to fake it.