The Goodbye Girl

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The Goodbye Girl Page 24

by Angela Verdenius


  “I’m here.” Nick’s voice, muted by the rain, came from behind her, and then he was beside her, one hand on her shoulder as he yelled above the din of the rain, “Are you okay?”

  Relieved, she nodded. Then her teeth started chattering. “It’s c-cold.”

  “Yeah. Can you swim?”

  She could only nod.

  “Let’s go.”

  He swam beside her, keeping close. First out of the water, he grabbed her arm, helping her out. The top of the embankment wasn’t far but the slippery grass and mud didn’t help, not when combined with the rain that kept its steady pounding down.

  A the top they grabbed their backpacks, swinging them over their shoulders, then Nick grabbed Bree’s hand in his, the torch in the other, and led them back through the bushes.

  It seemed a million miles away to where they parked the car, and by the time they tumbled in through the sliding door and closed it behind them, Bree could see that Nick’s lips were almost blue.

  Obviously she didn’t look much better, because he took one look at her face and swore. Without a word he slid his hand into the front of her soaked jeans and pulled out the car keys.

  Nick drove while Bree sat in the passenger seat shaking with cold. The heater was blasting warm air at them both, but it wasn’t making much difference.

  Both were silent, mainly because Bree couldn’t get a word out much through her chattering teeth, and Nick, well, Nick just drove with his jaw clenched, possibly, she thought, to stop him doing the same. Possibly.

  The mobile rang not far from the turn off to her home. Flicking it on, she managed to chatter out a “Y-yes?”

  “The moon is high,” Jackie said.

  “Oh, f-for G-God’s sake, J-Jackie, n-not n-n-now!”

  “The moon is high.”

  “We f-fell in a c-creek!”

  “The moon is high.”

  The one time Bree needed Jackie to not be paranoid and the woman wasn’t taking the very blatant hint.

  Nick cut his eyes to Bree.

  “T-the f-f-friggin’ sun is l-l-low,” she managed, feeling incredibly stupid when he simply shook his head slightly and looked back at the road.

  “Did you get recordings of the lights?’ Jackie asked.

  “D-did you h-he-hear what I said?” Surely she could hear the way Bree was speaking?

  “Hazards of the hunt. Did you see the lights?”

  “We c-c-could have d-d-drowned!”

  “Focus, Bree. The lights. Did you see the-”

  Bree turned the mobile off.

  Nick didn’t say a word, just cut her another look.

  Cripes, Jackie was one-eyed when it came to UFOs, but geez, where was even a teeny, tiny shred of concern?

  The mobile rang again as Nick turned into the driveway.

  Bree flicked it on. “W-what?”

  “It’s Mick. Everything all right?”

  At last! Someone cared! “Y-yes. W-we’re f-fine but-”

  “Excellent, excellent. Now, did you see the lights?”

  Bree watched the house come into view. Safe, warm, her little haven.

  “Bree,” Mick said insistently. “This is important.”

  Obviously more important than she and Nick falling into a freakin’ creek on a stormy night.

  Nick pulled the van to a halt as close to the veranda as he could before turning off the engine. Shaking a little himself from the cold, he looked at Bree. “We need to get inside, get out of these clothes and get warm.”

  “Bree, wait! Before you do-” Mick began almost desperately.

  Nick’s gaze didn’t shift from Bree’s face. “Mick, Bree is a fraction off hypothermia. This will wait until tomorrow.”

  “But it’s im-”

  “Not as important as my girl.” Nick turned the mobile off, his expression not changing one bit. “Let’s go.”

  “N-no argument f-f-from me.”

  Slamming the doors behind them, they ran to the veranda and up the steps, both of them yanking off their shoes and heavy, water-soaked jackets, leaving them lying on the veranda.

  Inside, Nick pointed down the hallway. “Hot shower right now.”

  “B-but y-your lips are b-blue,” she chattered.

  “I’m fine. I’ll go after you.” He gave her a little push. “That’s an order.”

  ~*~

  God, the hot water pounding down on him felt good. ‘Good’ being an understatement. It heated his chilled flesh and brought the blood back to the surface.

  It didn’t ease his anger at Bree’s friends, though. Not interested in the possibility that she could have drowned, that it was very clear, even over the mobile phone, that she could hardly speak through her chattering teeth.

  Man, he’d wanted to reach through that phone and pound some sense into their heads. If they’d been in his squad he’d have had them digging latrines and taking night patrols until they thought that was their whole lot in the Army.

  Turning off the water, Nick stepped out, grabbed the towel and started drying himself. Steam filled the bathroom, though the ventilation fan was doing a good job dispensing it. Give it a couple more minutes and he’d be able to see himself in the mirror. Maybe.

  Scrubbing himself briskly with the soft towel, Nick’s jaw tightened. God, when he’d seen her fall backwards over the embankment, grabbed her hand even though he knew it was futile as soon as his own boots started slipping, his heart had jumped into his throat. Then the creek had swallowed them both. When he’d first surfaced, his heart had pounded in gut-wrenching fear that she’d hit her head, she’d disappeared under the water, she was swept away and hurt and he could do nothing.

  He’d have drained the whole bloody creek to find her if he’d had to. The relief when he’d heard her yelling his name and seen her treading water had been almost overwhelming. His next concern had to be getting her out of the water and cold.

  Poor Bree. The woman had been frozen, lips blue and teeth chattering. Not once had she complained though, no, she’d just picked up her backpack and followed him without a whinge or a whine. All he could do was get her home and in a hot shower. By now she’d be sipping on the hot Milo he’d left for her on the kitchen bench, the central heating making the house all warm and cosy.

  Running the towel over his hair, he remembered the look on her face when her so-called friends had phoned. For a few seconds she’d just looked so disappointed, so alone, and then she’d done him proud by switching off the mobile and cutting Jackie off. If they hadn’t both been frozen to the marrow he’d have pulled over and gathered her into his arms, given her a cuddle, let her know that he was there for her. Always there for her, no matter what. He just hoped she knew it.

  Looking around, he suddenly realised that the wet clothes he’d left near the door were gone. Bree must’ve snuck in and taken them while he was busy boiling himself in the shower.

  The second thing he realized was that he had no clothes to put on at all. There was a towelling dressing gown sitting neatly on the stool near the door where there hadn’t previously been one.

  Nick held it up. No way was that going to fit. Too short, too small. Nope, the only thing he could do was wrap a towel around his hips and see how long it would take his clothes to dry in the dryer. Hopefully Bree hadn’t forgotten to check his pockets for his wallet.

  Wrapping a clean towel around his hips, he tucked the end in securely before running one of Bree’s combs quickly through his hair. The advantage of it being short was that it was quick to dry.

  Opening the bathroom door, he stepped out. The central heating combined with the insulation in the ceiling was working wonders, the hallway already warm. The runner was a perfect buffer between his bare feet and the wooden floor.

  Hearing Bree murmuring and Sheba’s enthusiastic screech coming from the kitchen, Nick headed towards it. Rounding the doorway, he saw Sheba lying upside down in Bree’s arms, purring ecstatically as Bree cooed over her.

  Looking up as Nick entered, Bree�
�s eyes widened. “Oh, Nick, you’ll get cold.”

  “I’m fine.” The lino was a little cold under his feet, but nothing to complain about. Compared to some places he’d been in, this was a palace. Crossing to the kitchen bench, he saw that his wallet was sitting beside her mug. Checking her mug, he was pleased to see that it was empty. “Good girl.”

  “Far be it from me to disobey an order,” she said dryly.

  “You’re learning.” He flashed her a smile.

  Man, she looked so pretty. And a lot warmer, he was relieved to see, pink replacing the blue of her lips and the white of her cheeks. Her hair hung in a luxuriant fall halfway down her back. He’d never seen it loose before, and he itched to slide his hands through it, to test the weight in his hands, to hold on while he tilted her head back to - well, hell, why not? He’d thought he’d lost her tonight, for just a few seconds he’d thought she was gone. Damn, he deserved to kiss and cuddle the woman he loved.

  Giving in to the urge, he closed the small distance between them, slid his hand through all that glorious hair and fisted it gently, tugging her head back until her face was angled to his satisfaction. Her eyes were wide, but there was a definite sparkle within the hazel depths, the light seeming to catch the flecks of green.

  Leaning down, Nick pressed his lips to hers. Her lips were so soft, her mouth so inviting as she opened willingly to him. Leaning into the kiss, she welcomed him in, filling him with her taste, her sweetness.

  Sheba squawked her annoyance when Bree swayed into him, leaping from Bree’s arms onto the kitchen bench.

  That was even better, it meant he could gather Bree properly into his arms and crush her against himself.

  Nick’s kiss went from reassuring and loving to hungry.

  God, she did this to him every time, every taste of her had him craving another kiss, a deeper kiss, a hotter kiss.

  Cupping her head in both hands, he held her still so he could feast on her mouth, drink her in, suck her so far into his body he’d always taste her.

  There was a light scrape of nails against his bare sides before Bree’s hands settled on his waist, fingers caressing, shifting, moving to fan out and dig in slightly as she tested the slight give of his hard muscle.

  Her touch inflamed him further and it was only with effort that he wrenched his mouth from hers. Resting his forehead against hers, closing his eyes, he sucked in deep breaths, well aware that his ardour was dangerously close to flaring out of control.

  Jesus, a few hot kisses and it wasn’t enough, would never be enough. His loins were already pooling with heat, his shaft throbbing with need. But he wouldn’t force her, refused to, he’d promised-

  “Nick,” she whispered.

  “Yeah?” His voice was harsh even to his own ears.

  “I’m ready.”

  He stilled, her words seeping into him. Did she mean…? Could she really mean…? His heart started to thump low and heavy. “Bree?”

  “I’m ready.”

  Slowly he opened his eyes, gazing directly into hers to see desire swirling in the hazel depths, desire and, yes, a little touch of shyness. It was there in the light hesitancy of her hands on his waist, the little flex of her fingers, the fleeting glance downwards, the sweep of those impossibly long, thick lashes that hid her desire from him before they lifted to so that she could meet his gaze steadily.

  “Make love to me, Nick.”

  They were the sweetest words he’d heard in his whole life.

  But he had to make sure, had to… “Bree, are you certain?” His voice a deep grating, so harsh with need when he wanted to be so reassuring, so gentle.

  She didn’t seem to mind, her smile an intriguing mix of passion and shyness. “If you still want me.”

  Jesus, if he still wanted her. He ached with the very thought of having her beneath him, to be deep inside her, to love her like he wanted, like she deserved. To finally be one with her.

  Reining in his baser desires, Nick stroked his thumbs across her cheeks. “I’ll look after you, Bree.”

  “I know.” An enchanting peep of dimples. “You always do.”

  “I always will,” he vowed.

  She might think he spoke in the heat of the moment, but Nick meant it. Meant it for now, for when he initiated her into lovemaking, and for the rest of her life.

  Taking her hand, he led her from the kitchen, having the good sense to snag his wallet on the way and smiling when she reached up automatically to flick off the light switch as they passed it. Down the hallway and into her bedroom.

  It was a pretty bedroom, he noted absentmindedly, old world, warm, comfortable and feminine without being overwhelming. The queen-sized bed was covered in a thick quilt, the curtains closing out the world, the Tiffany lamp on the bedside casting a soft glow on the bed.

  Perfect.

  Tossing the wallet onto the bedside table, Nick drew her up beside the bed. No asking now, if she wanted him to stop she had to tell him herself.

  Bree didn’t hesitate, untying the belt around her waist. The dressing gown slid off her shoulders and was tossed onto the small, dainty, flower-printed armchair beside the bedside table. Then she stopped and looked up at him.

  The overwhelming protective instinct he had for her just came soaring back at the vulnerability in her eyes.

  “Nick,” she whispered, “don’t invoke the five second rule for this, but I’m thinking lamp off.”

  “Really?” He dropped a kiss on top of her head, inhaling deeply of the scent of shampoo, the strands so silky against his lips as he drew her closer. “I’m thinking lamp on.”

  “My bedroom, I should get the choice.”

  “My woman, I do get the choice.”

  “Nick…”

  “Honey, I know what you’re thinking.” Sliding his hands beneath the fall of hair, he gently massaged her nape, rewarded by her throat arching back, her eyes half closing in pleasure. “But I know what I know. You’re beautiful. Every curve, every swell. I love it all.”

  “You haven’t see it all yet.”

  “But I know. I know because this body is a part of you, Bree, and I love it. I love you.” He feathered his lips across hers, delighting in the lushness.

  Blindly she followed him, wanting more when he brushed his lips to the corner of her lips, evading her seeking mouth easily as he slid his lips along her cheek, kissing softly below her ear, licking the silken skin lightly, chuckling softly when she shivered and hunched her shoulder in ticklish protest.

  “Hang in there, honey.” He smoothed his hands down her arms to her sides, smoothing further down to rest on her hips. “Trust me.”

  She just took his heart right out of his chest. Uncomplaining, without hesitation, she angled her head to the side, baring her throat to him in utter trust of his words.

  Jesus. She was killing him with her willingness, her trust, her openness. How did he ever get so lucky?

  It made him even more determined to be tender, to be the kind of lover she needed for her first time.

  Finding the fast beating pulse in the side of her throat, he licked it leisurely, kissed it, then fastened his mouth over it and sucked carefully, long, drawing pulls that had the pulse racing until it beat frantically beneath his soothing tongue.

  Back up he traced the graceful curve of her neck, back to below her ear where he kissed lightly again, flicked his tongue, rewarded by her soft moan and her fingers scraping lightly up his spine.

  She was touching him, palms moulding to the planes of his back as she traced across his heated skin. Then her hands slid lower, brushing against the top of the towel, slipping just a little beneath, almost driving him mad with the urgency those innocent touches evoked.

  His shaft tented the towel between them and then she swayed forward, her hips pressing against him, his shaft pressed between their bodies.

  God, it felt so good, his hard length against her softness.

  Nick took her mouth again, hungrier, harder, his need to go slowly almost swep
t away by the sensation of her hands suddenly gliding beneath the towel, palms smoothing down over the his buttocks to rest each side.

  The towel fell away, pinned at the front between their bodies, leaving his naked back and buttocks open to her shyly seeking hands.

  As she sought to explore him, so he did her, only with more assuredness, more confidence, more experience. Slowly he inched the nightgown up each side of her, keeping her mind off what he was doing by teasing her mouth, nipping kisses and sudden licks before fastening his mouth to hers and plundering the honeyed depths.

  He could drink from her all night and still thirst for her. He knew he’d never get enough of Bree.

  The roundness of her thighs was a delight, the silkiness of her skin sweet torture, but what really blew his mind was finding naked hips. Bree wasn’t wearing panties.

  Oh, thank you, God.

  A little shift of his hips and the towel fell away to drop between their feet, where it was kicked aside. Then he just pressed against her.

  Oh sweet mother mercy, his shaft was against her rounded belly, skin to skin, heat to heat, hardness to softness.

  Bree’s eyes opened, the dark desire swirling within the depths almost taking his breath away.

  “Nick…” She pressed closer, her hands flattening on his buttocks as though she could pull him into her very skin.

  “Easy, honey.” Lifting his head, he took a deep, steadying breath, forcing his rampaging ardour under a tightly-leashed control. While she was still diverted by the feel of his shaft against her, he ordered softly, “Raise your arms.”

  She obeyed without question and he drew the fleecy nightgown over her head, tossing it away without a care to where it fell.

  Hard little nipples pebbled against his upper abdomen and with a groan he cupped the luscious globes, delighting in the way they overfilled his big palms. Lifting them, weighing them, he though he’d never seen breasts more beautiful, more lush.

  Lowering them, he lifted his gaze to her eyes, seeing the flush of desire and uncertainty combined. “Beautiful, Bree, so very beautiful.”

 

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