by Sue MacKay
Pride filled her. Anyone could do this, but she was doing it and that felt special.
‘Let’s try a turn. Move the control gently to the left. Again, nothing abrupt. Too sharp and too far and you’ll flip us over on our back.’
‘Yikes.’ Emma let the controls go, suddenly terrified at how easily this could turn to catastrophe.
Nixon’s hands were instantly in charge of his controls. ‘Steady.’
‘You frightened me.’
‘Good. You need to be wary all the time.’
‘Handing back to you,’ she told him. ‘I prefer to relax and enjoy my flight.’
‘Emma Hayes, I don’t believe you’re chickening out that easily. Not the strong, brave woman of these past few weeks.’
Heat blasted her cheeks at the compliment, but it was nothing compared to the heat between them. Her hands seemed to reach for the controls of their own volition. ‘Talk me through the turn.’
His low, measured voice instructed her as required, allowing time for her response while watching dials, wings, the nose, her. His calm approach gave her confidence.
Concentrating harder than she’d ever done for anything else, she turned the plane to the left, and kept turning because Nixon didn’t tell her to straighten up. She held her breath, took a quick glance out of the window to see the land below moving in a circle. ‘Ready to straighten any time you tell me.’ Thump, thud. Her heart was leaping in its cage; excited, happy.
‘A few more degrees and we’ll be back on line.’
‘I’m doing a complete circle?’ How cool was that? Dealing with a cardiac arrest was going to seem tame after this.
‘Watch that the speed doesn’t pick up when you straighten. Keep the wings level. That’s it. You’re a natural.’ Nixon slapped his hand on his thigh, his fingers tapping a soundless tune.
She wished it were her thigh those strong fingers were resting on. Her muscles tightened anyway, and her skin prickled with need as though he were touching her. If only she could let go of the controls to place a hand over his. Laughter bubbled up and out of her throat, filling the small cabin. ‘This is awesome. Thank you so much for bringing me up here. It’s the best time I’ve had in for ever.’ She’d left her problems on the ground and was having unfettered fun with a man she couldn’t get enough of. No wonder her heart was singing.
‘We’ll do it again.’
Truly? She couldn’t wait. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’
His laughter died away as a thoughtful expression expanded across his face.
Emma waited to hear whatever was going on in his mind, but he remained silent. ‘It’s okay, I understand if you don’t get the chance. I’m usually fairly busy at the weekends too.’
‘Stop it. I can’t wait to take you up again.’ His smile melted her. ‘I haven’t had a day like this, ever. You make me happy, Em.’ He swallowed hard, stared outside for a moment, then focused on flying, taking over the controls and checking everything essential to a safe landing. Pressing the talk button, he spoke to Queenstown Air Traffic Control. ‘Bravo Juliet Foxtrot on approach, three kilometres out, two thousand feet and descending.’
‘Bravo Juliet Foxtrot, cleared for landing, out.’
‘Cleared for landing,’ Nixon repeated back before glancing across to her. ‘You ready?’
She nodded, and watched the ground slowly come up to meet them at a steady rate. The touchdown was so soft it was as though they were still above the ground. Taxiing back to the aero club went too fast, and suddenly they were there, the prop slowing, stopping, and Nixon was pushing his door open, fresh air infiltrating the cabin and diluting the heat, the smells, the excitement.
‘Welcome back to earth.’ He smiled softly, again wakening her in places she hadn’t known were still alive.
‘I can’t thank you enough.’ But she was going to try. The time had come to move this forward to a whole new level, to express the kiss that had been building up since take-off. All or nothing. And nothing was no longer an option.
Unclicking her seat belt, Emma leaned over the gap between them, her hands on his upper arms, her lips seeking his. Pressing her mouth to his, she breathed deeply, gathered in his man scent, his heat, his vitality, and kissed him with everything she had.
Nixon stilled, sat tight under her onslaught.
Unable to help herself, Emma kept kissing him, her tongue beginning to explore his mouth. He tasted better than she’d imagined.
He moved closer, took over the kiss, his lips savouring hers, his tongue dancing with hers. His arms wound around her, drew her as close as possible in the awkward space they shared. The kiss moved to a depth she’d never experienced before. Nixon tasted of mint and heat and male. Under her hands his muscles were tight, strong, and knocking her heart out of shape. Her muscles were liquid as they pinged with heat.
Then she was set back, those wondrous lips gone, her mouth destitute.
‘Sorry, Emma. I shouldn’t have done that.’
‘You didn’t start it. I did.’
Not that she’d put any thought into it—it had just felt so natural, so right.
‘I shouldn’t have continued kissing you back.’ His hands gripped the now useless controls in front of him.
‘Fine.’ If he needed space he’d get it. Using her elbow, she shoved her door wide and dropped to the ground, slammed the door shut and strode across the grass to the four-wheel drive to wait until Nixon was ready to take her home.
She was glad she’d kissed him, and stopping had been out of the question. Damn but could he kiss. Her toes were still curled and her blood hadn’t returned to a normal pace. Might never. As for her heart—messy. Like putty, it had been moulded into a new shape far too easily. Now she had to find a way to straighten it out so she could face Nixon and not go into emotional overload, or do something more embarrassing than kiss him. What could be more embarrassing than that? Ah, well, there was always…
Nixon was taking his time topping up the fuel. That long body stretched across the front of the plane as he held the nozzle in place reminding her how he’d walked beside her yesterday as they’d headed up the hill in Sunshine Bay. Long, confident strides as if he were on the prowl, sexy as all be it, stirring her deep down whenever she’d glanced at him. No wonder she’d kissed him. She’d been buzzing all morning. It had had to come out somehow and what better way than in a kiss? She hadn’t known a kiss could lift the lid off so many banked-down emotions.
Behind her the locks on his vehicle pinged as he headed over. Climbing in, she waited to be driven home, probably in laden silence that said they were back to where they’d been after their last disagreement in the park.
The four-wheel drive rocked as he climbed in, then the engine roared to life and they were heading back to town.
Emma wanted to talk to him, about anything, except that kiss. She would not apologise when it had turned out to be the best kiss of her life. ‘What are you doing this afternoon?’ she asked, her voice a bit squeaky and high.
‘Em.’ He slowed at an intersection, turned onto the main road. ‘Don’t get mad at me, but we can’t do this. It’s not that I didn’t like kissing you, it’s that we cannot get involved.’
He liked kissing her. Not all was lost. ‘Because we work together?’ That would be a ridiculous reason. ‘Or because you won’t give us a chance?’ That would be tricky but with patience and need on both sides they could work it out.
‘You’re not ready.’
That could be true, and it could be totally wrong. ‘What makes you think that?’
‘Recently you had a baby for someone else and are still coming to grips with all the emotions involved. You can’t really know what you want yet.’
Her mouth dropped open as anger flared. She forced it away. Nixon deserved her truth. All of it. ‘You’re right. And you’re wrong. My emotions are extreme at the moment but they run true. I miss Grace in my arms even though she’s not mine. My body wants her while my head and heart are working to
let her go.’ Her hands were clenched on her thighs and didn’t relax when Nixon briefly covered them with his and gave her a squeeze. ‘As for us, I have no idea where or how far we’re headed. I only know…’ she loaded her voice with honesty ‘…I want to find out. To do that I’m prepared to take some chances.’ Then a little imp got hold of her tongue. ‘For the record, I kissed you, I didn’t propose.’ Careful. That’s enough.
Nixon braked sharply for a red light, his fingers tapping in an annoying way on the steering wheel. ‘I still think it’s too soon for you.’
‘I think you’re using me as an excuse not to let go and have some fun for a change,’ she dragged out over a mouthful of disappointment.
‘You might be right, to a point.’ Green light, and he pulled away. ‘I don’t want a relationship that I can’t walk away from at any moment. I told you what happened to my family and the result is I’m ultra-cautious about getting close to anyone. I could hurt you, Em, and that’s not happening.’
More than honest. The lack of hope was obvious. She turned to see him clearly. ‘When I kissed you I wasn’t asking for a lifelong commitment. It happened. I’d had a wonderful time with you and I was buzzing. It happened,’ she repeated, suddenly at a loss for words. Sensible ones anyway.
‘Tell me, do you want more children?’ he asked.
‘Yes, one day, with the right man.’
‘Is this a new thing, or have you felt like that for a long time?’
I see where you’re going with this. ‘For the past nine months I’ve been focused on having Abbie’s baby, and doing it without breaking my heart or hers. I did that, and there are no regrets.’
Nixon turned his head her way and started to say something.
‘Wait. I haven’t finished. What the pregnancy’s done is wake up my maternal needs and, yes, one day I do want more children, a family unit with a man, not only Rosie and me. She needs siblings and a dad too. The only new thing is I’m admitting it.’
I want to love a man, to be loved. To share a home, a life with him.
But now she’d well and truly scared Nixon off—if he’d even been at the starter’s block, and with his hang-ups that was unlikely. ‘Out-of-whack emotions and all, it’s time to start living in a way I haven’t for years. My life is no longer on hold.’ That was enough. She’d raved on too much.
‘Good for you.’ He was silent after that, and for once she accepted it was Nixon’s way of dealing with a load of information.
She’d put herself out there; better he think it through than make an impulsive decision that he later regretted. They were close to town now. Just ahead was the café she frequented when she had time for coffee and cake. ‘Drop me off here. There’s something I need to get for Rosie.’
He pulled into the kerb. ‘We’ve done it again, finished a fun time with disagreement.’
Our way of putting up the shutters?
Was she also a scaredy-cat? Afraid to grab what she wanted and run with it, take a risk with her heart? But she’d initiated that kiss. That was a risk. Or would’ve been if she’d actually considered what she was doing before she did it. Was she really ready for a relationship? Had the past finally gone? Just because she rarely had the nightmares any more, did that mean she was free to start over? Would she be able to relate to Nixon without looking over her shoulder?
Out of the four-wheel drive, she leaned in the door to eyeball Nixon. ‘Not a disagreement, more like we’re testing each other, digging for information and feelings. We’re new at this. If I’ve upset you then I’m sorry. Thank you again for an amazing experience. I’ll see you on Monday, and we won’t go round with long faces.’ Where did all this come from? She didn’t do strong and forceful. Except finally she was done with meek and mild. Look where that had got her in the past. ‘Please,’ she added softly, far more like her.
‘It’s a deal.’
The best she was going to get today. ‘See you.’ She closed the door softly, not wanting to put him on edge again. Ducking around a group of German tourists, she headed for the book shop and a present for Rosie to take to the street Christmas party tomorrow. Might even grab that coffee and cake for herself. Would not think about a certain man and how well he kissed. No, damn it. Every sweet, hot, delicious moment and sensation was right there at the front of her mind. Why did he have to be so good when he wasn’t going to follow up with another one?
CHAPTER NINE
‘SOMEONE TO SEE YOU.’ Abbie nudged her none too gently.
Emma looked around the throng of neighbours filling the front lawns of adjoining properties where they lived for the street Christmas party, not seeing anyone wanting her in particular.
‘Talking to Callum. Tall, dark hair, not a street resident.’
Nixon. Her heart began its now familiar thumping. ‘What’s he doing here?’
‘Umm.’ Abbie scratched her chin. ‘Could he be here to see my neighbour?’
‘I guess.’ Yesterday he’d said he’d see her Monday, not today. Had he missed her as much as she him?
‘Grab him.’ As Emma began to shake her head her nagging friend grinned wickedly. ‘You know you want to.’
She sure did. Could be he liked random kisses after all. ‘You don’t know what you’re suggesting.’ Because she didn’t believe she could keep her hands to herself around Nixon any more. Her gazed drifted to Rosie playing soccer with the other youngsters.
‘I’ve got her.’ Abbie nudged again. ‘She’ll be fine.’
She’d go to get away from that annoying elbow if nothing else. Moving fast, but not quick enough to look desperate, she headed towards Nixon, caught up with him as he turned in her direction. ‘This is a surprise.’
‘A good one, I hope.’
He wasn’t sure of his welcome? Emma slipped an arm through his. ‘I’m thrilled you came. Hope you’re not put off by the crowd.’
‘Not at all.’ Nixon tossed his keys up and down, up and down, his eyes mostly focused on her, big thinking going on behind that gaze. ‘I dropped by for a coffee, and to see if you needed a hand getting a tree to decorate.’
So he wasn’t avoiding the kiss. Or her spiel about where she was at now. ‘All done. Come and join in.’
He hesitated. ‘We get offside with each other too easily.’
‘Then we get on just fine again.’
‘Which suggests we both have defining lines we’re not prepared to step over.’ Yet. Maybe never. Or possibly sometime in the future. One thing abundantly clear was she wanted to find out, to explore whatever it was between them that had her blood thickening and hope expanding in her chest.
He shoved the keys into his back pocket, took her hand in his as they started walking back to where Abbie sat with Grace. ‘What’s with the party?’
‘Christmas. It’s an annual event. We have a barbecue and the kids get presents after their game of soccer. It brings the street together.’ The whole of December was about Christmas functions. ‘Rosie is excited beyond reason, especially now she’s got a tree. Every morning she asks if Santa’s coming today. I’ll almost be glad when it’s over. Almost.’
‘I can picture her on Christmas morning. There’ll be no holding her back.’ But it was her Nixon was gazing at, his eyes bright. His smile sent ripples of desire caressing her in places that hadn’t been touched in ages. So that kiss hadn’t been a failure. It had ramped things up, and she wanted to do it again. As she had time and again throughout the sleepless night.
‘Is Rosie playing soccer?’
‘You have to ask?’ Emma relaxed into his side, holding her breath until he stayed with her, didn’t step away.
‘Not really.’ His full-wattage smile further lit up her insides, and sent another twist of desire curling through her body and downward to that special place. ‘About yesterday…’
She held her breath.
‘I had a lot of fun. I’m hoping we can have some more.’
‘You’re on, starting now. There’s cold beer in the chilly bins
.’
‘Way to a man’s heart.’
‘Cheapskate.’
His arm tensed as he drew a sharp breath. ‘Just so you know, that kiss was out of this world. I pulled back because I was losing control and I hate that more than just about anything.’
Best answer yet to all the questions buzzing in her head. They might be all over the place but she’d take this as a step forward, another kink in his armoury ironed out. They would be having more fun together. ‘Let’s party.’
‘Nixon,’ shrieked Rosie as she looked up from dribbling the ball towards the goalposts made of cardboard boxes, immediately losing concentration and the ball to the boy running beside her. ‘You came.’
‘Yes, kiddo, I did.’
‘You can be my daddy partner.’
Emma froze. Awkward. The man would be gone any second. She glanced at him from under lowered eyebrows. Saw him jerk, then shrug.
‘Okay. What do you want me to do?’
Pardon? This was Nixon? The man who’d pulled away from that kiss as if he’d disturbed a nest of angry wasps? Her eyebrows rose as she studied him. Yep, definitely the man she’d fantasised about all night.
‘Get the ball and give it to me,’ Rosie instructed, jumping up and down with glee.
Don’t let my girl down, please.
Despite what he’d just said, he’d soon realise he’d had a brain fade and forgotten he didn’t do personal. Emma’s lungs started aching with the breath stalled in there. Forcing it out, she aimed for normal—if normal meant racing blood, thumping heart and disbelief as he said to her, ‘Put a hold on the beer.’ Then he jogged across to the kids and men—fathers—to join Rosie.
‘She’s too damned sassy for a kid her age,’ Emma muttered as she rejoined Abbie, who hadn’t missed a word of that exchange.
‘Nixon looks relaxed about it all.’ Abbie grinned her infuriating grin.
‘Since Grace was born you’ve become this annoying smug—yes, smug—person. Well, can it. Bring back my old friend who understood where I was at in my life and left me to get on with it quietly.’ Emma wheezed out the last sentence as lack of oxygen from not breathing throughout that tirade caught up with her.