by Coleen Kwan
He blinked in surprise. “Yeah.”
“I like Tyler a lot. I hope you’ll bring her here again soon.”
He made a noncommittal grunt. The kerfuffle with his father had pushed the rest of the day aside, but later on he would think back on Tyler in his old bedroom and everything she’d said to him.
“Talk to you later.” He dropped a kiss on her cheek and returned to the living room where both the twins were now sitting and listening to their father. The old man had perked up, no doubt because he had a more sympathetic audience, Luke thought sourly.
Tyler and Karly, who’d been hovering in the background, moved over to Luke.
“I’d better go see if Helen needs me,” Karly said before disappearing toward the kitchen, leaving Tyler to give him an inquiring look.
“Helen’s okay,” Luke told her, “but it’s best if I get my father out of here. Are you ready to go?”
She nodded swiftly. “I’ll get Chloe.”
When Luke told his father it was time to leave, Patrick sighed and heaved himself upright. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll let Helen calm down a bit before giving her a ring.”
“It won’t be as easy as you think. You’ll have to work for her forgiveness.”
“And you? You’ve forgiven me, haven’t you, son?”
The hopeful look in his father’s eyes made Luke wince inwardly. He saw Tyler coming in from the garden with Chloe in tow and ignored his father’s question. “Let’s go,” he said in an implacable tone.
Outside the sun was still shining, but the beauty of the day had completely vanished for Luke. He just wanted to see his father drive off. Handing his car keys to Tyler, he told her to see to Chloe before walking with his father to the dated Mercedes. Up close, he noticed it was more decrepit than he’d first thought. There were rust spots, dents, and the tires were worn. His father also looked worse for wear on closer inspection. Thin, gray strands of hair blew in the breeze, and his eyes were bloodshot.
“You okay to drive all the way back to Sydney?” Luke felt compelled to ask as his father unlocked the car.
“I’m still staying locally.”
Luke’s mouth tightened. “Where?”
His father hesitated. “Look, son, you wouldn’t happen to have any spare cash, would you? It’s Sunday, you see, and I can’t access my account until the bank opens tomorrow.”
Luke stared at his father, a sick feeling curdling in his gut. “Where are you staying?” he insisted through gritted teeth.
His father wilted. “The Rocking Horse Motel.”
The Rocking Horse Motel was a flea-bitten dive on the outskirts of town where rooms could be rented by the hour. “If that’s the only place you could find, you should go back to Sydney.”
Patrick’s shoulders appeared to sag even farther. “Actually, I don’t have a place in Sydney.”
Luke drew in some air. “So the harbor-front apartment with the view of the opera house was all a lie?”
“No, it existed, but I had to sell it when I became ill.”
Luke thrust his fingers through his hair as his temper finally broke loose. “I’m so sick of your damn lies. You ferret yourself into my life, you spread all these half-truths like manure, and you leech on your entire family. You don’t care about us. All you care about is what we can give you.”
He whipped out his wallet from his back pocket. His fingers trembled with rage as he yanked out all the notes he had and smacked them against his father’s chest. “There, take it all and get the hell out of here.” His father didn’t make a move to take the money, just stared at him, so Luke shoved the notes into the top pocket of the old man’s jacket. “Get going.”
Patrick fumbled his way into the Mercedes and started the car. Luke slammed the door shut and stood with his arms crossed, waiting until the car finally pulled off. He took a few deep breaths, telling himself to get a grip. He didn’t want Chloe seeing him in such a rage. Finally he calmed down sufficiently to walk over to the Range Rover, where Chloe grinned at him from the backseat. Somehow he managed to return her smile.
“Want me to drive?” Tyler asked, looking apprehensive.
“I’m okay.” He buckled his seat belt. She continued to look worried. “Really, I am. I’m not going to go all crazy. Promise.” He glanced back at Chloe. “Pinkie promise.”
“Well, then.” She settled back in her seat. “That’s okay.”
It was okay, he realized after a few minutes on the road. Tyler had witnessed the ugly underbelly of his family life, but he didn’t mind. In fact, her presence helped him keep some perspective on the disaster. He’d sort out his father and sister another day. Even his writing problems he’d solve somehow. The snarl in his gut gradually untangled as they drove back to Burronga.
Ten minutes later, Tyler’s head was nodding against her headrest, and Chloe had already fallen asleep. Luke slackened his foot off the accelerator and eased back to catch the breeze flowing through the window. They would arrive soon enough, but for now he had everything he needed right here.
…
Tyler tucked the blanket under Chloe’s chin and pressed a final good-night kiss on her head. Her daughter barely stirred. Worn out by the party, she was already fast asleep. Tyler shut the bedroom door behind her and moved to the living room.
Luke was still there. Her heart skittered. She’d thought he might have gone next door, but he stood motionless by the window, gazing at the dusk-drenched garden. Judging by the tense set of his back, she had a suspicion he wasn’t really seeing anything. Emotion rushed over her and before she knew it, she had closed the gap between them. She brushed her hands across his back, and then couldn’t help herself wrapping her arms around him. His body was taut and hard, but at her touch, his muscles seemed to ease a fraction.
He turned toward her, arms going swiftly around her. Her heart thumped louder. This was exactly what she needed, she thought. What they both needed.
“Weird day, huh?” She coasted her hands over his back, exploring the length of his spine.
He pressed himself against her, muscular thighs rubbing against hers, triggering an answering flare in her legs. “A roller coaster of a day.” His breath feathered her temples. “Some pretty bad lows, but it’s starting to look up again.” His fingers fanned across her hips, explored her bottom, then slid to her waist. Desire sparked in his licorice eyes. She sensed him straining against his self-restraint, managing to just hold on. “Tyler,” he murmured, “are we suspending the light-and-casual policy?”
He had to bring that up now? She slid her hands over his torso, gliding upward to the bare skin at the V of his shirt, where she twirled her nails through a few strands of chest hair. Today she’d glimpsed the loves and hurts that shaped this complex man. He was so much more than just her hunky neighbor, and light and casual just wasn’t going to be enough for her.
“It’s a sacrifice, but someone’s gotta do it.”
Heat flared in his black eyes, and then he crushed his mouth against hers. This was no courting kiss. This was a blistering, ravenous kiss that bordered on rough. If it had been anyone else, she would have objected, but Luke’s thirst only inflamed hers. She matched his kiss, as avid as he, licking her tongue deep into his mouth. He made a growling noise in his chest, a primitive sound that stoked her excitement. Tangling his fingers through her hair, he claimed her jaw and neck with swift little bites before returning to her mouth. She could feel the fever throbbing through him as strong and urgent as her own, and she wasn’t too surprised when the front of his jeans swelled against her belly.
He must have become aware of it too, because he broke off the kiss and cupped her face in his hands, his breathing quick and uneven. “Do you know what you’re doing to me?” he muttered. “You could make a grown man cry.”
She gulped in some much-needed air. Her head was spinning like a top from his searing kisses, and she didn’t want the mayhem to stop. “Well, I’d hate to see you cry.” Her body was out of control, and
she found herself sliding her belly up and down against him.
Luke let out another growl that sent a delicious shiver down her spine. She was toying with the tiger, she knew, and any second now the beast was going to pounce on her. The idea made her knees even weaker.
He gripped her waist again, harder this time. “We both know there’s an easy solution to this dilemma.”
His words hung in the torrid air between them. Her body screamed to kiss him, to possess him and be possessed by him. She couldn’t keep away from Luke. Not now, not after everything that had happened today. The wrenching confrontation he had endured with his father had demolished all her reservations about keeping her distance. Luke needed her, and tonight she couldn’t deny him anything.
“I like easy solutions,” she murmured.
Taking his hand, she led him down the hallway and into her bedroom. Fortunately, the bedroom was the one place she managed to keep clean, as she disliked mistreating her clothes. The room was reasonably tidy, but Luke didn’t seem to notice, all his attention taken by the huge, four-poster bed that dominated the small space.
“If I’d known you had a bed like this, I would have made my move sooner.”
She gave him a saucy grin, loving the glint in his eyes. “I have plans for you in this bed. Naughty plans.”
“Oh yeah?” The gleam in his eyes became a furnace. “I have a pretty fertile imagination too. I can see myself doing a few naughty things to you as well.”
She bit her lip as an all-body flush enveloped her. “Just a few?”
“Looks like we’ve got a busy night ahead of us.”
He reached for her and spun her into his arms, and she landed against his chest with a gasp.
Oh yeah, it was going to be one busy night all right.
Chapter Eleven
Luke was dreaming of making love to a beautiful redhead on a deserted beach when something nudged his shoulder. He tried to roll away and continue his randy dream, but the shaking continued. With a sigh, he peeled his eyes open to find the gorgeous redhead of his dream peering down at him through sex-tousled hair.
“Tyler? Is everything okay?” He blinked several times as he shook off the last remnants of his dream.
“Everything’s fine,” she said in a low tone. “But it’s almost six.”
Gray, predawn light percolated through the curtains. They were in her room, and he was naked in her four-poster bed. They were both naked. Memories of last night came surging back. The kissing and caressing, the teasing and playing, the scorching, incredible sex…
“Ah…” Exhaling a sigh of pleasure, he stretched out on the pillows and twined his fingers through her hair. “You’re hungry again, are you? Is that why you’re waking me up?” Instant heat unfurled through him, his body already priming itself.
“Sorry, no.” Her smile was regretful. “I’m waking you so you can go home before Chloe gets up.”
He blinked at her. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” Rolling out of bed, she picked up a violet robe and drew it around her naked body. “I make it a rule never to let Chloe see me in bed with a man.”
He pushed himself against the headrest. “I’m not some stranger. Chloe knows me.”
Tyler shot him a frown. “Are you suggesting I’m in the habit of picking up strangers?”
“Not at all,” he swiftly replied. He rubbed his bristly jaw for a few moments. “Hell, that was pretty insulting, wasn’t it? I apologize, but my point still holds. Chloe’s used to seeing me around the place.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She tied the belt of her robe with quick jerks. “Chloe is young and impressionable. I want to keep my sex life under wraps from her.”
“For how long? Until she’s eighteen? Leaves home?”
“If I have to.” Shaking back her hair, she perched on the bed next to him, her expression softening slightly. “I don’t want my little girl growing up faster than she has to. Can you understand that?”
The plea in her blue eyes instantly melted him. “Of course, and I’m just being selfish.”
And slow-witted, too. Tyler was right to turf him out of bed. Whatever sexual relationship was developing between them, it would have to be temporary because sooner or later, he’d be leaving. So it would be better all around to keep that away from Chloe, and better for them, too. They both had busy lives with individual goals and different paths to follow. It wouldn’t do to let this crackling magnetism between them take over their whole lives.
He got out of bed, wondering where all his clothes had gone in the frenzy of last night. As he searched about, he saw Tyler staring at him with hungry eyes. Her gaze slid over his naked body, ogling him without shame, and damn it if she didn’t lick her bottom lip.
He grinned at her. “You don’t want to look at me like that, or I’ll strip that robe off you in two seconds.”
“Promises, promises.” Her lips curled up.
He found his jeans and pulled them on. “So when can I make good on my promises?”
An odd, nervous look came over her. “Uh, I’m not sure.”
It hit him that Tyler wasn’t always as confident as she made out. She exuded such an aura of sultry sexiness that he’d assumed she’d had plenty of experience with men, but when he thought about it, she probably hadn’t. Before Chloe, she’d been involved exclusively with Damien, and since Chloe had been born, she’d always put her daughter first.
“Why don’t I cook dinner for you and Chloe tonight?”
She fiddled with the belt, still unsure. “Your agent’s house is so spick and span. I’m afraid Chloe would make a mess there.”
“So I’ll cook here, then.” He shrugged on his shirt, leaving it unbuttoned. “I’ll come over at five thirty.”
“Okay.”
She seemed pleased by that, and he couldn’t resist reeling her in and giving her one last heavy, hungry kiss. The kiss lasted longer than he’d intended, and by the time they broke apart, they were both flushed and out of breath.
“I’d better go,” Luke muttered, picking up his shoes and heading for the door before the temptation that was Tyler became too much.
When he returned next door, he knew he’d never get back to sleep. Half an hour later, he’d showered, made himself a mug of instant coffee, and was sitting in front of his laptop for the first time in more than a week. At first, the sight of the blinking cursor on an empty page revived all the familiar doubts and frustrations, but he forced them from his mind and concentrated on what he and Tyler had talked about in his mother’s house. Free writing. Write about anything, whatever came to his mind. It didn’t matter what, as long as the words appeared on the screen.
Like coins from a miser, the words dripped out one by one at an excruciatingly slow pace. He was tempted to give up, but he liked the sound of the words he managed to squeeze out, and he persevered. After a few false starts, he found himself writing about two women, one young, one middle-aged, one in the present, one in the past. Gradually, the wheels in his brain that he feared had seized up for good squeaked and squealed into motion, jerky and rusty, but moving all the same. It didn’t take him long to realize his inspiration was coming from two women in his life—Tyler and his mother. They didn’t at all resemble his characters, but they furnished the worlds of his fictional women and teased his imagination, sparking fresh bursts of creativity.
By the afternoon he was surprised to see he’d managed a few thousand words. He shut his laptop and started brooding over his other problem—his father. He called Helen and was relieved to learn she hadn’t had any more surprise visits from him.
“I don’t want anything to do with him,” Helen repeated before pleading, “Is that so wrong of me?”
He assured her that her resentment was only natural, but he couldn’t let go of the image of his father sagging against his decrepit car when Luke had thrust those bank notes at him. For a few moments, his father had seemed so frail and desperate. Desperate not just for money but for companionship. Lu
ke had never seen him so vulnerable, but instead of being glad that his rascal of a father had met his just deserts, he felt guilty, exasperated, and also, somehow, responsible.
“Can you deal with him?” Helen asked. “I don’t know if I could control myself.”
“Sure.” He hadn’t told her that the father she loathed was living not far from her in a rundown motel. Time for that later, if ever. He rang off, feeling drained and in no mood to tackle the problem of his father. Tomorrow would do.
At five thirty he went next door, his mood quickly improving at the prospect of the evening ahead. He hadn’t reached the house when Chloe came pelting out to greet him, a big grin on her face.
“Mumma says you’re making us dinner!” she crowed as she flung herself into his arms.
He swung her up. “That’s right, Little Miss Moppet. Are you going to help me?”
“Yes, but only if you don’t call me little.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “It’s a deal, Big Miss Moppet.”
She dragged him into the kitchen, where Tyler was busy putting away crockery. Pushing the hair from her eyes, she gave him a wide smile. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. He hadn’t seen her all day, and all he wanted to do was press her up against the refrigerator and take advantage of those luscious, pouty lips of hers. It didn’t help either the way she stared back at him, the luster in her eyes signaling she was suffering the same urges. Battening down his craving, he said casually, “Had a busy day?”
“Yes, but it improved when I heard Chloe’s babysitter is well again. She’ll be able to look after her starting tomorrow.”
“Well, that’s good.”
Chloe tugged at his hand, demanding to know what he was going to cook. Belatedly he realized he should have gone to the grocery store for a few supplies.
“Take whatever you need from the fridge or the pantry. I don’t mind potluck,” Tyler said. “Chloe, why don’t you go play with your pony?”
Her daughter pushed out her lower lip. “I wanna help Luke make dinner. He asked me to.”