“Fine. So, how’s work going?”
“About as well as your shop.”
“Fantastic?”
“Okay, let’s take my reply down a notch.”
The teasing light fading from his eyes, Ed leaned back in the chair and studied her. “You look tired.”
“End of the day, remember?” She shrugged. “Most people are tired by the end of a working day.”
“You don’t laugh as much as you used to.”
“Let’s not go there, Ed.”
“Fine. Maybe you need a holiday.”
“I took several weeks off to find a new job and shift house, remember?”
“That’s not a holiday.”
“And I need to work in this new job to accumulate holidays, remember?”
“You could work for me and have a holiday straight away.”
Carly wrinkled her nose. “I appreciate the offer, but you know me and motorbikes. Not really my style.”
“You almost worked there.”
“I was getting desperate.”
Ed laughed.
Realising what she’d said, Carly hastily backtracked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. The shop is great, and your offer is lovely, I just….I didn’t mean….Will you shut up?” She threw her napkin at him.
Dodging it, Ed continued laughing.
Crusher leaped upon the napkin, growling and savaging it before running from the kitchen, his little back feet sliding across the tiles.
Picking up his empty plate, Ed stood and walked to the sink, ruffling Carly’s hair fondly as he passed. “It’s all right, young ‘un. I understand. I couldn’t do what you do all day.”
Collecting her place, she joined him at the sink. “I do enjoy it. Really. It’s just…” At his questioning look, she sighed. “I’m afraid my patience isn’t what it normally is, and I’m getting a little sharp with my poor clients. They don’t deserve it.”
“Which just proves that you need to have a little fun, bring some light back to your life.” Ed turned on the taps, adding detergent to the water. “That bastard did a real number on you, Carly. It’s going to leave scars. But you need to move on.”
Carly just wished she found it as easy as Ed to move on, but going out didn’t appeal to her. “One day.” When he cast her a sideways glance, she added hastily, “Soon. I promise.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
“I bet you do.” She smiled slightly.
By six thirty Ed was showered, changed and out the door, roaring off on his Harley to meet his date, leaving Carly alone with Crusher.
Having successfully killed the napkin, Crusher now sat at Carly’s feet, his big eyes watching her every move. Giving him a scratch behind his ear, she laughed when his eyes grew all dreamy and his head canted to one side, while his back leg came up to scratch at air.
“Drongo,” she said affectionate.
Crusher blinked up at her and panted.
The evening wore on, and she changed into a light nightie and dressing gown, settling down to watch TV. Time passed and she awoke from a light doze to hear loud voices and the slam of a door.
Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was only ten o’clock. A muffled thump came from the front, accompanied by a curse.
Crusher raced for the front door. Frowning, Carly slipped on her ballet flats and following. From the way Crusher was eagerly bouncing at the door, Ed was home. Opening the wooden door, she peered out through the security screen to see a taxi parked on the road in front of the house.
Ed was slumped against the side of it.
“Ed?” Ensuring that Crusher remained in the house, she opened the door and stepped out onto the veranda. “Where’s your bike?” Concerned, she hurried down the steps. “Did you have an accident?”
The taxi driver looked up in irritated relief. “Oh good, here’s your missus. He owes me twenty bucks.”
“Lost my wallet,” Ed slurred.
This didn’t bode well. One look at his face and state, and she knew the evening had gone horribly wrong. “Are you all right, Ed?”
“Fine. Fine.” He gave a drunken laugh and almost fell over, grabbing the taxi door to regain his dubious balance. “Pay my fare?” He reeled away from the taxi, wavered, and slumped to a sitting position on the footpath.
Carly was about to ask the taxi driver for help to get Ed inside, but one look at his irritate, distinctly unfriendly face, had her rethinking her actions. Instead, she raced inside, returning with the fare Ed owed. The taxi driver counted it, nodded at her and drove away.
No doubt he’d had his share of people dibbing out of paying, and no doubt been caught in the middle of things not his business, but she was still annoyed that he couldn’t help her.
With a sigh, she knelt down beside Ed. “Come on, Ed. Let’s get you inside.”
“Date didn’t go well.” He tried to focus his eyes on her, his breath heavy with alcohol.
“So I gather.” Sliding one arm around his waist, she said, “Come on. Count of three and stand.”
His limbs didn’t cooperate.
“Let’s try again.”
He managed to get one foot under him, but when they were halfway up, his legs lost strength and he sagged back down to the footpath.
Ed might be skinny, but he carried weight.
Feeling more helpless by the second, Carly tried several more times, but each time he sagged. The term ‘legless’ definitely applied to him.
Then he started to cry, apologising profusely while barely propping himself up on his hand.
“Sshhh, Ed, it’s going to be all right.” She gave him a quick hug.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Carly.”
Brushing his hair back from his face, she straightened and bit her lip as she glanced around. The street was deserted. Her gaze jumped to the two houses across the street. No way was she going to ask Debbie for help, but…Sam? Unconsciously, she wrung her hands together. He was a big bloke, strong, he could manage Ed, but did she dare ask him?
She considered her alternatives. Ring Huggie? He’d be at home with Lisa, the boys tucked into bed, and he lived a good half hour away. It wouldn’t be fair to call him out. Ed’s other friends lived just as far away, if not further in some cases. Her old friends lived on the other side of the city.
Again, she looked at Sam’s house. Call him? Did she dare knock on his door at this time of the night? A light was on in what was probably his lounge room, so he had to still be awake.
Looking down at Ed sitting on the footpath, his crying now diminished to the odd hiccup, she watched as he tried once more to get up, his hand shooting out from under him so that only her quick actions prevented him from falling back onto the footpath.
No way could she do this alone. Taking a deep breath, she ensured that Ed was stable on the footpath, and with a stern ‘Stay there and do not move’, she headed across the deserted street, through Sam’s little front gate and up his garden path to the veranda. At the door, she took another deep, fortifying breath, and rang the bell.
It wasn’t long before the front light flipped on, the wooden door opening to reveal Sam’s tall form standing in his hallway.
“Um…hi Sam.” She managed a weak smile.
Opening the door, he stepped out, his gaze flicking around the veranda before settling on her once more. “Carly?” His gaze swept assessingly up and down her body, making her suddenly conscious of her night attire, which was old and definitely unsexy, though she had no idea why that last thought should matter. “Is everything all right?”
Wishing she was at least dressed, she cleared her throat. “I actually have a huge favour to ask.”
His brows rose. “Oh?”
“Yeah. Um…look, I’m afraid Ed is a little under the weather, and I can’t get him inside on my own.”
The veranda light cast interesting shadows across Sam’s bare chest, and standing before him, regardless of the urgency to get Ed inside their house, she couldn’t h
elp but be aware of the muscles that dipped and swelled, the long hair that was loose from its usual tie at his nape to drape across his broad shoulders.
Unbidden, her gaze fell to see that he wore a pair of shorts slung low on his lean hips, leaving his impressive six pack on display.
Well, to be fair, it wasn’t actually on display. She was the one ogling it.
Mentally giving herself a slap, she took a step back and looked up at him, only to find him gazing over her head to where Ed sat on the footpath opposite.
“That’s Ed?”
“Yeah.” Fidgeting, she cleared her throat again. “Sam, I am so sorry. It’s just that I can’t get him up on my own and-”
“No worries.” Reaching behind the door with one hand, he withdrew the keys and let it swing shut, locking it behind him. “Glad to help.”
She rather doubted that, but was relieved. “Thank you.”
Stepping back several paces to give him room to manoeuvre around her - his tall, muscular frame combined with her own smaller, but much rounder body, didn’t allow for too much room - she was surprised when Sam caught her upper arm.
“Careful,” he said. “I don’t want you tipping backwards over the edge of the veranda.”
Feeling a fool, but oh, so conscious of the warmth and strength of his grip, Carly sought to focus her thoughts. “Sorry. I’m fine.”
Looking down at her, Sam frowned a little. “Are you all right, honey? You look a little shaky.”
She wondered why. Was it his warm, male scent, that faint undertone of soap he always seemed to have, or the combined delicious realisation that he was not only built like a woman’s fantasy, but that his concern for her seemed genuine?
Or maybe the last bit was her imagination. He probably just didn’t want her fat arse squashing his flowers if she fell arse over tit off his veranda.
The last thought was enough to have her straightening her back. “I’m fine. Just sorry that I had to disturb you.”
“Like I said, no worries.” Walking past her, he placed his hand in the small of her back, turning her efficiently to lead her down the steps. “That’s what good neighbours do.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
She felt his touch right through to her bones. And to other bits which she refused to acknowledge.
Give the man credit, he didn’t ask anything as they crossed the street. He only removed his hand from her back when they drew up beside Ed.
Squatting down, Sam said, “Hi, Ed.”
“Sam,” Ed slurred. “What’re you doing here?”
“Come to help you inside.”
Ed looked at Carly. “We can manage.”
“I’m sure you can,” Sam said smoothly before she could reply. “But Carly is only a little thing, and I’m a bit stronger, so how about I help instead?”
Little thing? She blinked. Talk about feeding bullshit to a drunk man.
Ed studied Carly through bleery eyes. “She is short.”
She rolled her eyes.
“But I can do this alone.” To prove his point, Ed tried to push upright, managing this time to come at least halfway up before his legs gave out.
“Good try.” Sam’s smile was friendly, but there was an air of authority now, an efficiency in his movements as he leaned forward. “And you’ll make it this time with my help.” Before Ed could argue, he continued, “Count of three and we’re going up.”
Slipping her hands under Ed’s arm on the other side, Carly braced herself.
“Let go, Carly,” Sam said quietly. “I can do this.”
“But-”
“I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
About to object, she caught Sam’s gaze on her, and his eyes, while pleasant, were deadly serious.
“What about you?” she objected.
“I know what I’m doing.”
“I can help-”
“Carly.”
One word in a deep, quiet, even tone, was enough to make her snatch her hands away. Not to mention the little blush that rose in her cheeks, which, thank goodness, he wouldn’t be able to see with the shadows cast by the street light.
Within seconds Ed was up on his feet, one arm slung around Sam’s neck, and that was a stretch for Ed. Sam hung onto his wrist, his other arm around Ed’s back, bracing the smaller, much slighter man against his body while starting for the garden gate. “Open the door, Carly.”
Hurrying ahead of him, she did as bidden, watching as he walked Ed up the steps and past her into the hallway.
“Where’s his bedroom?”
“Third door on the left.”
Sam manoeuvred Ed into his bedroom and surprised her by not dropping Ed onto the bed, instead, he carefully eased him down until Ed sat. As soon as Sam released him, Ed fell backwards on the bed.
Grabbing his legs, Sam flipped them up onto the bed as well, somehow getting Ed in a proper position so that his head was on the pillow before pulling his boots off with quick movements. Grabbing the folded blanket at the end of the bed, he snapped it over him.
Standing in the doorway, Carly could only watch in amazement. Where was absent-minded Sam, the man she and Ed thought was more of a laugh, a muscle-bound, nice but bit of a moron? Fixing her hand was one thing, but now she was seeing a different side of him. A quiet, authoritive side.
It had her tingling in places that had no right to tingle.
“You’re a good man, Sam,” Ed slurred. “Kind of man Carly should have.”
She froze. Holy cow, had her befuddled young uncle actually said that? “Ed!”
Ed turned his head on the pillow to look at her. “Good man, this Sam. Better than that bastard who hurt you.”
“Ed, stop.” Moving forward, she attempted to keep him quiet, shifting the pillow under his head and settling the blanket around his skinny shoulders. “Rest now. Close your eyes.” Please. Please.
“Heard you cry,” he mumbled. “That night. Bastard.”
Conscious of Sam standing behind her, she resisted the impulse to hold the pillow over Ed’s face. “Go to sleep, Ed.”
“You’re a good girl.” He tried to pat her cheek, missed and flopped his hand back to the bed. “Saw Mira there, Carly.”
“Mira?”
“At the pub.” Ed closed his eyes. “Charlie left.”
Shit. Now she knew why he’d gotten sozzled, or part of the reason. Personally, she thought getting drunk because of his ex was poor, especially when he was trying to impress another woman. Tomorrow she’d have to drag the full story from him.
Ed mumbled a few more things before growing silent.
With a sigh of relief, Carly straightened and turned around to look up into Sam’s steady gaze, his eyes behind the glasses assessing.
“Rough night,” he stated quietly.
“Yes.” When he continued to watch her, she sighed. “Thanks for helping, Sam.”
“No worries.” His gaze didn’t shift. “Will you be all right?”
“Of course. Ed will sleep this off and suffer in the morning.”
“I mean you. You’re pale.”
“Oh.” She shrugged. “It’s nothing.”
“Okay.” He gave her one last look before turning away.
When he didn’t move further, she realised that he was waiting for her to precede him. His courteous ways were delightfully old fashioned, but as much as it delighted her, it also made her self-conscious when she walked ahead of him.
Moving past him, she led him out into the hallway. “Thanks again, Sam, I really appreciate it. I’m sorry I had to involve you.”
“Stop apologising.”
“Can’t help it. It’s not every day you have to deal with a crying drunk.”
“You’d be surprised.”
By now they had reached the front door and stepped out onto the veranda. Unable to help the curiosity she felt at his remark, she arched one brow at him. “Are you a barman?”
His teeth flashed white in the dimness of the veranda light. “N
ope.”
Folding her arms, she studied him. “What do you do, Sam?”
“I’m a nurse.” With a cheerful wave, he ambled down the steps. “G’night, honey.”
Open-mouthed, Carly watched him return home. A nurse?
Crusher whined at her feet and she looked down to see that he’d followed them out and was now sitting at her feet, his gaze going from Sam to her.
“Trust me,” she told him, “I’m just as gob-smacked.”
Chapter 3
Tonight he had a date with Dorothy, but first he had something else to do, one he actually anticipated. He was heading over to Carly’s house to remove the dressing on her palm.
Coming up the garden path, he noted the daisies now lining each side, their brightly coloured heads bobbing in the slight breeze. The weeds that had been taking over the path were gone. Nodding in approval, he went up what were fast becoming familiar steps.
He couldn’t help but notice the difference on the veranda. Gone were the cobwebs, two big cane chairs with high backs and colourful cushions sat each side of a small, frosted glass top table at one end, and a couple of big, potted plants flanked the door. A large statue of a dog and a cat, curled up together in sleep, was at the other end of the veranda. A big hanging basket hung each side of the veranda posts lining the steps, and what looked to be Black-eyed Susans were already starting to trail their vines over the tops. If trained correctly, once they were long enough they’d wrap around the posts in a beautiful display.
The door mat made him pause. Plain brown, it boldly proclaimed in black letters ‘wipe your feet or I’ll kick your arse’. Grinning, he lifted his hand to ring the big, old fashioned bell, noted that the wooden door was open, and instead called through the security screen, “Hello the house!”
A wild series of yapping sounded and Crusher appeared at the door, barking madly. Looking down at him, Sam raised one eyebrow. If SJ got hold of the over-grown rat, he’d eat him, no doubt about it.
“Crusher, settle down!” Carly’s voice neared.
Pushing up his glasses, Sam thrust his hands into his shorts and rocked backward and forward in his sneakers.
Seducing Sam Page 6