Fly with Me

by Angela Verdenius

  He’d find out tonight. Oh boy, would he ever.

  But right now he was in for another treat. So was everyone else, and he couldn’t be prouder.

  Elissa looked out over the crowd with quiet confidence, raising the microphone to her mouth as she looked to where Ash and Scott stood, her smile genuinely warm. “Ash, you’re my best friend. You’ve been there for me though everything, and to see you happily settled with the man of your dreams is everything I’d ever hoped for you.”

  The band started playing softly.

  Ash leaned her head against Scott’s arm, her eyes sparkling.

  Scott leaned down to press a soft kiss to the top of her head.

  No sooner had Ash tilted her head back to smile up at him, than Elissa added, “Love sometimes can’t be expressed in words, not true feelings, so Scott, this is from Ash to you with all her love.”

  The music picked up tempo, still sweet but definite, and Elissa started singing.

  The silence of the crowd went to an expectant hush, surprise on several faces followed by delight as her voice rose to fill the room, tone dulcet, clear, yet soaring as the first lines of the song went into the chorus.

  It was one that had been playing on the radio quite a lot recently, and he recognised it, it was kind of hard not to with all the publicity the upcoming film was getting, it was one of the most popular love songs currently on the radio.

  Elissa sang it with heart, the music swelling out from the band, her voice soaring, touching every person who watched.

  “Well, well,” Kirk murmured.

  Scott was looking down at Ash with so much love, so much pride, and she smiled up at him with equal love. It was a touching moment and one that no one missed.

  Suddenly Scott moved, his arm sliding around her waist, his other hand capturing her free hand, and he swung her out onto the floor.

  One thing about Scott, the man could dance, and he swept Ash along with him, cradling her top half close to him, her long, white bridal gown flaring out around their legs as he swung her around.

  It was a magical time, the lights dimming to a soft glow so that Elissa’s voice came from the gloom while all attention was focussed on the couple dancing so perfectly in sync with both each other and the music, slowing when the music slowed, fastening when the music fastened.

  Not one person spoke as the newly married couple danced, so lost in their own world, the music surrounding them, their gazes on each other. Such a perfect match.

  A movement at the table had Simon glancing around to see that Molly had slipped into a chair beside Kirk and was leaning her head against him. Kirk’s arm was around her shoulders, his thumb rubbing slowly and lightly against her arm, then he bent his head forward at the same time she looked up at him, their lips meeting for a slow, deep kiss. His free hand rested on Molly’s rounded belly where their unborn babe rested safely.

  Definitely a couple’s moment.

  Simon’s attention returned to where Elissa sang. Even in the dimmer light he could see the life sparkling around her, her body swaying to the music, her free hand gesturing out in time to the music. The beat of the drums was echoed in the sway of her hips, the tap of her satin pump on the floor beneath her gown. It was as though the music was a part of her. The emotion of the song was on her face, in her movements, in her very being.

  The music slowed and stopped, the lights flaring up as the couple in the middle of the room hugged, kissed and finally broke apart to applause.

  Up on the stage Elissa laughed, her eyes sparkling in enjoyment.

  The band swung into another popular pop song, fast and light, and people filled the dance floor.

  Molly sighed. “Oh man…”

  Kirk grinned. “Feeling the yearning to break up the dance floor, kitten?”

  “Yeah, but the bump sits a little heavily now for that.”

  “We can just do our own slow version.”

  She punched his arm lightly. “We’d look like idiots.”

  “I don’t care.”

  She dimpled up at him. “Oh, Goldie, you angel. Really?”

  “For you, kitten, anything.”

  “How abut we hit the dance floor if they sing anything slow and dreamy?”

  “Sure.” Kirk looked at Simon. “Care for a fast trot with me?”

  “In your dreams,” Simon drawled.

  A tapping on his shoulder had him glancing up to see Del holding out her hand to him.

  “Come on, you poor old man,” Del said. “I’ll take pity on you. Let’s hit the floor.”

  Grabbing her hand, Simon pushed to his feet. “For you, sweetheart, anything.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  “When have I ever not done anything you asked?” He led her to the dance floor, his hand on the back of her waist.

  “Give me a moment to think.” Backing onto the dance floor, Del winked at him and wiggled her slim hips. “Come on, Simon, shake your thing!”

  “Don’t,” Ryder said from beside him, Dee clasped firmly in his arms. “Please don’t shake your thing. I’ll go blind.”

  “I won’t,” Dee said. “Shake it, Simon. I want to see.”

  “You bloody well don’t, woman.” Ryder smacked her lightly on her ample bottom. “My thing is the only thing you’ll see shaking.”

  “I want to see your thing do more than shake,” she retorted.

  “A challenge.” Ryder leered. “I love challenges.”

  “Make sure you live up to it when we get home. I’ll be judging.”

  “Why wait?” Ryder grabbed her hand and hauled her out from between the dancing people.

  Dee laughed, scolded and called him names until they disappeared through the side door.

  Grinning, Simon looked down at Del. “Okay, that’s them occupied for awhile.”

  “Let’s time them.” Del checked her watch.

  “We laying bets?”

  “Fifteen minutes.”

  “Hey, that’s what they did last time.” Simon gathered Del close, dipped her, making her gasp and grab for him even as her eyes danced with laughter. “Cheat.”

  “I only bet on sure things.” She linked her arms around his neck.

  “Ryder and Dee are definitely a sure thing.”

  Laughing, they whirled around the floor, weaving between the couples. By the time Elissa had sung a couple of more songs Simon had danced with Julia Preston, Ryder’s mother, Mrs Montague, and Mrs Miller, Dee’s mother.

  There were a lot of younger woman who tried to catch his eye, but the only woman his own age he wanted to dance with was up on stage singing her heart out. Man, she could wring a man to tears with that voice.

  Over Mrs Miller’s shoulder he saw Del dancing with Moz. Now there was a sight for sore eyes. She was slim, he was broad, she was tall and he was a hell of a lot taller. Her head barely reached his pecs. It kind of looked like a little girl dancing with her dad. His big hand held hers gingerly as though he was afraid he’d break her.

  Then he said something that had Del gaping, then frowning, then look at that, she had a scowl on her face. For a second Simon thought she’d kick Moz in the shins and stalk out, but apparently she remembered where she was, gritted her teeth and kept dancing. The smile on her face did not reach her eyes.

  The little band stopped playing, the DJ in the corner taking over the music once more. Simon was ready by the stage, holding Elissa’s hand as she came down the steps.

  Eyes sparkling, she flung her arms around his neck.

  “You loved that.” He swung her into a slow-moving dance as a dreamy tune came on.

  “Yep.”

  “Love to sing.”

  “Yep.” She snuggled closer.

  “Do you miss it?” At her blank look, he added, “Singing for a living, singing for audiences.”

  She shook her head. “No. I love to sing for friends, have fun, but I don’t miss singing for money. I don’t want the demands, the accolades. I just want fun, to sing when and where I want, to liv
e my life.” She paused, peered up at him. “Why? Do you think I’ll want to go back to it?”

  “You might one day.”

  “No, Simon.” She said it with finality. “I’ve been there, done that. I know it’s not for me, it doesn’t rule my life. It’s a part of it, but only a small part. What I want is right here.” She tapped his chest before looking around. “The freedom to be me.”

  Leaning down to rest his forehead against hers, he smiled down at her, filled with so much love. “You’ll always fly free with me, sweetheart. I’ll never hold you down.”

  Her arms around his neck tightened a fraction. “There’s holding, Simon, and then there’s imprisoning. Big difference.” Soberly, she looked up at him. “I like to be held by you.”

  That was all she said before ducking her head to rest it under his chin against his chest, her arms sliding down to lie around his back.

  God, his heart would burst with happiness. Right now all he wanted to do was hold her. Hold her forever. Looked like she felt the same, and man, that was amazing. That was- He looked up to see Moz watching him from his position against the wall, arms folded across his chest, muscles bulging.

  Well, bugger him. Nothing was going to spoil this moment. Simon smiled widely at him before bending his head over the glossy hair tucked beneath his chin and swaying with Elissa in time to the music, losing himself in the moment.

  Of course, explaining to Moz why he was taking Elissa home to his house for the night might be a little touchy, but he’d faced worse disasters and survived.

  The reception drew to a close, the newly weds disappearing to spend a quiet night at home before leaving in the morning for their honeymoon. Munching on a piece of cake, Simon looked around for Elissa to find her talking to Moz on the other side of the room. Moz’s arms were folded across his chest, his shirt sleeves straining around the muscular bulk of his arms, legs slightly apart, head tilted down as he listened to whatever Elissa was saying.

  He didn’t nod, didn’t shake his head, just looked at her. Looked long and hard. Elissa looked right back up at him.

  Shit, if he upset her Simon would be right up in his face ready for blood. Going by the size of Moz it might very well be his own blood flying, but he wouldn’t go down without a fight, and he’d give Moz a damned good one. He’d taken on men bigger than himself and they’d fallen hard. The bigger weren’t always better.

  Swallowing the cake, Simon moved fast across the floor. Moz’s gaze lifted to collide with his, and he did not look happy.

  Not his problem. Simon moved up beside Elissa, sliding his arm around her waist. “Everything all right, sweetheart?”

  “I was just telling Moz that I’m going home with you,” she replied, her own arm sliding around his back.

  No wonder big brother didn’t look happy. Personally, Simon couldn’t blame him. Right then, seeing the concern flickering in Moz’s eyes as he glanced down at her, Simon knew what he had to do. At least to tide them all over.

  “I understand your worry,” he said quietly. “You don’t know me. But Elissa does. I care for her, I would never hurt her. I just want you to know that.”

  Moz studied him, not saying a word.

  “It’s late and now is not the time for a meet, greet and sort out. Come by my place tomorrow morning and we’ll talk, introduce ourselves properly. You can ask me all the questions you like.”

  “Simon,” Elissa protested, “he doesn’t need to-”

  “I’ve got nothing to hide, baby.” Gaze still on Moz, Simon leaned down to brush his lips against her temple. “Not one single thing. Besides, I think it’s high time your brother and I had a proper chat.”

  Before she could say anything, Moz nodded. “I’ll be there.”

  “Oh for…” She sighed.

  “I’ll bring morning tea.”

  Simon blinked. “What?”

  “Moz cooks.” Elissa cast Simon a wry look. “Sure-fire way to your heart. After you taste his cooking you might trade me in for Moz.”

  “Very bloody doubtful.”

  Even Moz managed to crack a grin. “I’ll cook next time. Tomorrow it’s bought biscuits.”

  “Tomorrow, then.” Simon stuck out his hand.

  Moz took it, his calloused palm hard. “Sure.” Then he crunched down.

  Simon managed not to collapse to his knees. Cripes, he might be strong but Moz was a little inhuman, he was sure.

  Moz grinned, a cold gleam in his eyes. “Just a little warning, mate. You hurt my sister, I’ll pound you into the ground so hard there won’t be even a tip of your red hair to distinguish from the blood.” He released Simon’s hand.

  Resisting the impulse to shake out his tingling hand, Simon nodded. “Fair enough.”

  “For crying out loud.” Elissa smacked Moz’s arm. “Will you stop being such a moron?”

  In reply, he ruffled her hair. She glared up at him. While they did the staring match, Simon turned his head, caught Ryder’s and Kirk’s amused gazes, and mouthed a swear word while flexing his fingers.

  Turning back to face the siblings, Simon said, “I’ll take good care of her.”

  “Yeah,” Moz said. “You will.” The threat was back in his tone.

  “Okay, then.” Simon took a step back.

  Elissa’s gaze softened. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Moz.”

  “See you, sis.”

  “How are you getting home? We’ll give you a lift.”

  “Plenty of room in the car,” Simon agreed. Least he could do, seeing as how this mountain was going to be his brother-in-law someday. The panel van’s shockies might never be the same, but he was willing to sacrifice them to keep Elissa happy.

  “Thanks,” Moz replied, “but I’m catching a lift with Julia seeing as we’re going back to the same place.” He looked past them. “She’s waiting for me.”

  At least Simon wouldn’t have to put up with Moz’s eyes boring a hole in the back of his head in the car, that was something.

  Even better, though, was the woman snugged up to his side. Elissa in his home, in his bed. Best thing ever.

  ~*~

  Moz was sitting in one of the wooden chairs at the kitchen table. The chair was tilted back on two legs, balancing there while those long legs were stretched out, big sneakered feet crossed at the ankles. His arms were folded across his chest, massive biceps and triceps stretching the sleeves of the t-shirt. A mug of coffee steamed on the table beside him.

  Simon was leaning back against the kitchen bench, a slice of toast smeared with Vegemite in one hand, a pile of Vegemite-smeared toast on a plate beside him. In his other hand he held a mug of hot tea. Tall, strong, broad-shouldered, a powerfully-built man in his own right with a sweet personality who made her mouth water and her heart skip a beat. The man made her whole world sing.

  Standing in the hallway with Arthur sitting by her feet, Elissa looked at the two men. Moz’s gravely voice rumbled, Simon’s deep voice speaking quietly with authority. Both so intent on getting to know each other - though she thought it sounded more like an interrogation - they didn’t even know she was right there listening.

  Looking down at Arthur, she caught him looking back up at her. He looked distinctly disgruntled. Arthur didn’t like noisy mornings. He liked to be woken gradually in his own sweet time. That didn’t include having a rumbling mountain in his kitchen. Arthur, Elissa was fast discovering, wanted Simon all to himself. He suffered Elissa, put up with her cooing at him and loving him, but he preferred to sit or lie down near Simon.

  Not that the cantankerous old fart would admit it. There he’d be on the other end of the sofa from Simon, looking at him, and as soon as Simon looked back at him, Arthur would flick his ears, squinch up his one eye and look the other way. As soon as he thought Simon didn’t notice he’d shuffle a little closer until finally he was hard up against Simon’s side. Simon, bless his soft heart, stroked him without looking. Arthur could then pretend he didn’t notice the stroking and purr away.

  The
old fart was one strange cat. Now he was a disgruntled old fart as well. He’d just have to go and sulk in Simon’s room, because she was going to check on Tilly. To be fair, she was supposed to be house-sitting for Scott and Ash, so it was time to go back there.

  “I’m off,” she called.

  Moz nodded.

  Simon swallowed his toast, strode across to her, dropped a Vegemite flavoured kiss on her lips. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Try not to kill each other.”

  “We’ll do our best.”

  Elissa shot her brother a warning look, which he took with a grin, then after giving Arthur a quick pat - which he pretended didn’t happen - Elissa picked up her shoulder bag and left.

  Tilly was disgruntled when Elissa entered the house. It seemed to be the day for disgruntled cats.

  Dropping her shoulder bag on the hall side table, Elissa scooped Tilly up and snuggled her, cooing and stroking. Tilly, however, was interested in only one thing first. Food.

  In the kitchen Elissa filled her bowl with food then sat at the table and picked up the note Ash had left for her, along with the little gift-wrapped box.

  Thanks so much for looking after Tilly and the house. We understand if you have a sleep-over now and again *wink*. Have a wonderful two weeks! See you soon. P/s: a little gift for you.

  Carefully unwrapping the box, Elissa opened it and laughed. Inside was a little squat statue of a fireman complete with helmet and glasses. On the base of the statue was printed ‘Hot Stuff’.

  Ash was so right.

  Elissa looked at Tilly, who was now demanding to be let out for a run. “And he’s my hot stuff.”

  Tilly didn’t look impressed.

  “All mine.” Elissa grinned.

  Tilly looked pointedly out the security screen. Definitely not impressed.

  Epilogue

  “This is the last of it.” Elissa slapped the top of the lid down.

  The second hand dealer counted out the cash into her hand while his assistant wheeled out the last box. The dealer shook hands with her and followed.

  Standing in the middle of the empty room, Elissa placed the notes in her purse before looking around. The flat was empty. Completely empty. There was nothing left that even hinted that she’d lived there.