Melting Into You (Due South Book 2)

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Melting Into You (Due South Book 2) Page 4

by Tracey Alvarez


  “She was happy watching TV.”

  “Happy, and you didn’t have to interact with her, correct?” Kezia edged into the family room and perched on a couch arm.

  “Hey, I interacted with her today. I took her to meet West’s parents—who also think she’s the Second Coming—and I bought her an ice-cream at the store.”

  “Did you play any games with her?”

  “Games?” He finished rinsing his bowl and left it to drain.

  “You know, like Scrabble or backgammon—that sort of thing?”

  Did he look like the type of guy to have a host of board games tucked away in a cupboard? Don’t piss her off Ben, play nice.

  “Ah, no. I’m a bit low-stocked on board games.”

  “Hmmph. You should take her over to the city and buy a few, they’re good ice-breakers. Playing a board game means you can spend time with Jade without much talking—if talking’s hard for you.”

  Of course talking was hard. He had nothing in common with an eight-year-old girl. “Sounds like a plan.”

  He wiped down the counter. Surely five minutes was long enough for Jade to fall asleep?

  “Can I get you something? Tea? Coffee?”

  “Instant noodles?” Kezia’s dark eyes twinkled.

  “Food of the Gods,” he said.

  She snorted and snagged her jacket off the sofa. “Thanks, but I’d better go. Zoe wasn’t amused at being left at home with Shaye and missing our girl-time.”

  “I appreciate you dropping everything to come by, Kezia. Name your price.”

  She paused, one arm in the jacket, the pull of the leather across her shoulders emphasizing the thrust of her breasts beneath the soft knit of her jersey. “My price is you stop being such a stronzo.”

  “Do I want to know the translation?”

  She pulled her jacket on the rest of the way. “I’ll give you a clue. It starts with ass and ends with hole.”

  He bit back a grin. “I’ll try not to be such a stronzo.”

  Kezia’s lips lifted into a small smile. “Try harder.”

  “Listen, could you and Zoe come across with us to Invercargill tomorrow? Jade needs some new clothes, and you could help us choose some board games.” And fill those long, loud silences between him and Jade.

  “Like a buffer between you?” She tugged out some long strands of hair caught in her jacket collar, slanting him a wry glance.

  Suddenly, having a buffer wasn’t as important as spending time with a woman he wanted to know better. Inviting her along to shop seemed like a good excuse. “I’ll buy lunch.”

  “This offer from a man who eats instant noodles?”

  Ben strolled out of the kitchen and stood close to her. Perfume tickled his nose, but beneath the spicy undertones the mouth-watering scent of a warm, beautiful woman caused his heart to beat a little faster.

  “If I promise we won’t stoop to hamburgers, will you come?” Ben lifted a stray curl dangling in front of her cheek and let it spring into place. What would her wild mane of hair look like spread out on a man’s pillow?

  Desire must’ve shown on his face as Kezia took a giant step backward. With eyes fixed on her boots, she zipped up her jacket.

  “We’ll come. And I’m sure Zoe and Jade will be happy to eat hamburgers.”

  “It’s a date.”

  Two pretty dots of rose appeared on her cheeks. “No, it’s not. It’s a friend helping out a friend.”

  Interesting denial. Perhaps he affected Ms. Murphy the same way she affected him. His fingertips still tingled from the feel of her silky hair.

  “It’s just an expression,” he said slowly.

  “Oh, of course. Must be an English-as-a-second-language thing.”

  “You can’t use that excuse. You were born and raised in Wellington.”

  “Your sisters tell you too much.”

  “My sisters adore you and the pair of them couldn’t keep their mouths shut longer than five minutes if they tried.”

  Better not tease her anymore. What if she changed her mind and refused to come tomorrow? He gestured toward the hallway. “Thanks again.”

  She walked ahead of him. “I’m happy to be there for Jade.”

  He opened the front door, and she stepped outside. Soft wisps of ocean fog curled around her ankles and the half-moon, far above, winked pewter light on her head.

  “Kezia?”

  She turned, her expression wary.

  “A woman would know when I took her on a date.”

  Her dark eyes glittered, and a small smile played over her mouth. “Yes, I imagine she would. Sweet dreams.”

  And with that, she walked away into the fog.

  Yeah, he’d have dreams, all right. Dreams that would be anything but innocently sweet.

  Chapter 4

  Checkers, Monopoly, something pink with cupcakes on the packaging, and Twister.

  Ben dropped the boxes into the shopping cart with the items of winter clothing Jade needed. Marci had only packed the kid dresses and shorts. Not practical when winter temperatures came early this far south.

  Kezia and the two girls wandered ahead of him, examining endless aisles of crap-filled shelves. Somebody pop his eyeballs with a nail gun.

  He’d offered the woman his credit card at the huge store entrance. Told her to go nuts with it while he waited outside.

  She’d dragged him through the automatic sliding doors saying, “I’m flattered you trust me, but don’t think you’re weaseling out of this. It’ll be fun.”

  Fun? He cut a glance to a couple of other rumpled, red-faced men, trailing after their wives or girlfriends while glancing at the store’s exit. That would be a hell, no.

  Kezia stretched up to grab something from a high shelf, revealing a strip of skin between her top and the waistband of her jeans. Smooth, lightly tanned skin, which drew his gaze like a heat-seeking missile. Now staring at her was fun. Listening to her slightly raspy voice describe the merits of reading the Harry Potter series versus watching the DVDs was fun. Fun had nothing to do with shopping malls and board games.

  He’d expected otherwise, but so far their whole trip to Invercargill had been fun. Better than fun—frickin’ great.

  He’d skippered The Mollymawk over this morning, Jade at his side in the wheelhouse with eyes bugging open since she’d never been on a boat other than the Stewart Island ferry. Once they docked in the small coastal town of Bluff on the mainland, he collected the run-around car he kept at a mate’s place and herded them all inside. For lunch they picnicked in Queen’s park, autumn leaves a colorful carpet on the manicured lawns. They ate sandwiches and cookies; the girls tossing their leftovers to the ducks.

  But now, surrounded by pink merchandise and relegated to guarding Kezia’s handbag—he’d been transformed into a six-foot-two, walking vagina.

  Not fun. Not fun at all.

  Kezia shoved her mane of curls off her face and glared upwards. Ben parked the cart and strolled over.

  “Need a hand, munchkin?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Ha ha. Everyone’s a comedian. Now pass me the Cluedo. Please.”

  She really was tiny. And hot.

  Ben slid the game off the high shelf without fully extending his arm. “Here you go.”

  Zoe and Jade appeared beside him, their arms linked together.

  “Ooh, can we get that one, Mamma? I’m old enough to play now”—Zoe thrust a finger at the age rating printed on the box—“and I want to be a police officer like Piper and catch murderers.” She tugged on Ben’s wrist. “Did you know around forty-five people are murdered in America every day? I Googled it.”

  He blinked. Didn’t eight-year-old girls talk about unicorns and rainbows and boy bands? “Oh. Nope, didn’t know that.”

  Kezia tucked her bottom lip under her teeth and stared at him. As if he was about to pass or fail an important test. Unfortunately, he had no clue what the test was on.

  “Only about sixty-five percent of murders are solved, which is
why I’m going to be a detective.” Zoe paused and cocked her head. “Or maybe a doctor or a movie star. I haven’t completely decided.”

  Ben grinned. Kezia’s girl was a firecracker. Give him a kid more interested in murder statistics than boy bands any day.

  “You’ve got plenty of time to figure it out.”

  Zoe beamed and nudged Jade forward.

  His daughter, who studied her pink sneakers. His daughter, who didn’t talk about unicorns or boy bands or murder statistics in the U.S.A, because his daughter didn’t talk much at all. At least to him. The difference between the two girls made him grind his teeth. Why wasn’t Jade confident, bubbly, and a chatterbox?

  “Tell Ben what you want to be when you grow up,” Zoe said.

  Jade shook her head. “No. It’s stupid.”

  Something in Ben’s chest clenched.

  “It’s not stupid.” Zoe’s voice rose half an octave. “You love animals, so being a vet would be awesome.”

  “You promised not to tell anyone!” Jade said.

  Zoe clamped a hand over her mouth. “Ohmigod. I’m sooo sorry.”

  “It’s okay, I guess. Can we go now?” Jade looked to Kezia for her answer, not him.

  Whatever banded around his chest in a steel grip clamped harder.

  Ben crouched in front of his daughter. “Why is it stupid to want to be a vet?”

  “Because I’m stupid.”

  Jade’s voice didn’t hold a glimmer of self-pity, and her eyes reflected steady resignation. The power of her statement sucker-punched his heart and slung him into his childhood. Back to misbehaving letters and words that didn’t make sense. Back to the constant echo of “lazy, easily distracted, doesn’t-try-hard-enough,” ringing in his ears. Which, to a kid, meant big Ben Harland was a dumbass.

  All he could spit out was, “No you’re not, kiddo.”

  Jade turned her face away, her small mouth set in a terse line.

  Ben stood, meeting Kezia’s arched eyebrows with a helpless shrug.

  “Ah, Jade, do you want anything else?” He squinted through the pink to a recognizable brand name. “A Barbie or something?”

  She shook her head, and they walked farther along the aisle. She paused by a display of plush toys and stroked the fur of a stuffed dog.

  “I’d like a puppy. A real puppy.”

  Visions of steaming dog poop, chewed shoes, and a garden full of holes raised a cold sweat down Ben’s spine. Then he remembered a puppy would be Marci’s problem in two weeks, not his. But he wasn’t cruel enough to buy a kid a pet that she likely couldn’t keep.

  He grabbed the soft toy off the display shelf and handed it to her. “How about a trial run with the fake kind?”

  Jade hugged the dog, snuggling her tiny chin into the white fur. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Ben tugged one of her pigtails.

  Her elbows resting on the cart handle, Kezia watched their interaction with an “aw, how touching” look on her face. But bent forward, she unintentionally exposed the curve of her breast and a sliver of black lace beneath her top’s low neckline. The lust-stick walloped him upside the head, and the corner of his mouth tugged up in a goofy smile.

  His gaze tracked upward to the thick sweep of her lashes, which almost touched her pinked cheeks. She straightened, severing their sizzling eye-contact and murmuring in Italian to Zoe.

  Busted...but come on. Couldn’t blame a guy for looking at such a beautiful woman.

  Maybe he could learn to appreciate shopping after all.

  ***

  Kezia dropped the shopping bags with the day’s spoils in her kitchen corner, and the girls disappeared into Zoe’s bedroom. Ben had helped them disembark on the wharf and returned his boat to its mooring spot, while she walked with the girls to her place to get them out of the cold.

  With the kitchen warm and welcoming, bliss oozed through her veins as she stuffed her feet into comfy slippers. After tying an apron around her waist, she stoked up the wood burner and unpacked her groceries. While Russell’s grocery store in town provided the basic necessities, no one turned down the opportunity to load up on luxuries when they visited a mainland supermarket.

  A knock sounded at the back door.

  Her fingers clutched tight around the last jar as she slipped it into the pantry. “Come on in.”

  She wiped her palms down her apron. Ridiculous—the man had been in her home many times. Granted, she was often out when Ben came by to see his sister, but still…

  Ben kicked off his black sneakers and strode barefoot into the kitchen, a knot of shopping bags clutched in each hand. He placed them alongside hers in the corner. “The girls okay?”

  “In Zoe’s room with a board game.”

  “That’s good. Sorry I took so long.” He wandered over to her wood burner and cranked open the door.

  Such a guy. Drawn to fiddle with anything on fire, as if it were his Neanderthal duty.

  “Fire’s going well. It’s warm in here.”

  He wrestled his fleece hoodie up and over his head. His tee shirt crackled and rose with static, exposing muscle-ripped abs. A dusting of black hair traced a line south of his stomach and disappeared beneath his faded jeans. Her gaze slipped lower—oh yes, much lower. Down below his waistband to the faded denim cupping him so intimately.

  OhgoodLordhavemercy.

  It really was a lot warmer in here now.

  Kezia crossed to the row of cabinets beside the stove and retrieved a glass with shaky fingers. She filled it with water, ignoring the rustle of Ben’s clothing being adjusted as she sipped.

  “Sexy slippers you’ve got there, Kez.” His voice, low and intimate, came from almost directly behind her. “They suit you.”

  A little water got sucked up her nose and she coughed. Kezia took another calmer sip, narrowly avoiding a coughing fit, and looked down. The grey slippers, shaped into the 3D face of Shrek’s Donkey, were hardly a turn on. Not that she wanted to turn him on. Ben was a friend, well…kind of friend—more like a friendly acquaintance.

  Then why had she changed her clothes five times that morning? If she’d gone to Invercargill with Ford, Oban’s mechanic, or Kip, Due South’s barman—men she also considered friendly acquaintances—she would’ve tossed on the first outfit in her wardrobe.

  Idiota woman. Vanity, that was all.

  Blushing and choking was a normal feminine reaction to an attractive male while wearing cartoon slippers. The glass rattled against her teeth, and she returned it to the counter before she hurt herself.

  “Are you calling me a donkey, Ben Harland?”

  His grin revved her pulse rate. “Now Ms. Murphy, would I do that?”

  He moved out of her personal space and helped himself to a glass. “I know how ruthless you can be when crossed.”

  His teasing shimmered over her, fanning the fine hairs on her arms to attention. It’d been a long time since a man teased her. A long time. “Ruthless, pah. Be nice, or I’ll change my mind about inviting you for dinner.”

  Ben opened her fridge and poured a glass of milk. “Pity invite, huh?”

  “You can’t survive on instant noodles.”

  “I bought some tinned spaghetti and sausages.”

  “Not a huge improvement.”

  He slapped on an affronted expression, but his eyes gleamed. “Shaye and Mum are the only ones who can cook in our family. The rest of us get by and rely on their goodwill.”

  “Or on others’ goodwill?”

  Another wicked grin. “I’ve been told I’m charming company.”

  He swallowed half his drink and swiped his tongue along his upper lip, removing a milk mustache. Why hadn’t she ever noticed his lips were so soft? How had she missed their perfect symmetry or the small crescent of a dimple in his cheek when he smiled? That one was easy—because Ben Harland rarely smiled at her.

  “Did your dad cook?”

  Ben leaned a hip against her kitchen counter and studied her over the glass rim.


  “He pretended he couldn’t, and Mum let him get away with it since she loved to cook. But yeah, before he died he’d take us out on his boat fishing, and we’d fry up whatever we caught or collect shellfish if the fish weren’t biting. We’d make a beach fire somewhere and eat straight out of the pan.”

  She didn’t miss the catch in his voice when he’d mentioned his father’s death. A corresponding twinge of empathy twisted through her veins. Her parents died many years ago, and the hollow space in her heart had never completely refilled. “Sounds like a fun thing for a boy to do with his dad.”

  “It was. He spent a lot of time with the three of us. Never complained when our mates wanted to tag along.”

  Kezia moved to the pantry and selected two carrots and an onion, dropping them on the counter next to the chopping board. Adding carrot to lasagna was sacrilege to Italian tradition, but Zoe’s dislike of vegetables was a challenge at the best of times. Ragú could hide a multitude of sins.

  “Your father sounds a lot like my uncle back in the Bay.”

  “Where you grew up?”

  “Yes. The Italians have had a fishing fleet there since the nineteen-hundreds. My uncle Nicoli used to take us out to Tapu Te Ranga Island in his old rowboat, and we’d have a picnic. Afterwards, we’d climb to the top of the hill for the view over the Bay.”

  She smiled at the memory.

  Queen of the World, she’d once shouted, to the great amusement of Tony, Carlo, Matt and Nicky, all of whom—in typical big-brother fashion—had teased her mercilessly for days afterward.

  Ben grabbed a carrot and took a bite. Kezia opened her mouth to tell him to make himself at home, then changed her mind. After all, she’d asked him to stay because he’d treated her and Zoe to a fun day in the city. That was the only reason for her dinner invitation. And because Jade needed a decent meal. That was all.

  “Your father didn’t take you out?”

  She replaced the filched carrot. “Oh, no. He wasn’t a fisherman. Papà worked very hard in his restaurant.”

  “Italian restaurant?”

  “How did you guess? Yes, my parents worked long hours there. Antonio’s was one of the first in the Bay—now you can’t turn around without tripping over another café or restaurant.”

 

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