‘How can I have done that?’
‘Easy,’ he said. ‘By being you.’ He tugged her closer. ‘Misty…’
‘No.’
‘You mean you don’t want me to kiss you?’
‘No!’
The laughter was back in his eyes. Laughter should never leave him for long, she thought. He was meant for smiling.
He was meant for smiling at her?
‘You mean no, you don’t not want me to kiss you?’ he asked, his smile widening. Becoming wicked.
‘No!’ She had to think of something more intelligent to say. She couldn’t think of anything but Nick’s smile.
‘It’s very convoluted,’ he complained. ‘I’m not sure I get it. So if I pulled you closer…’
‘Nick…’
‘Bailey, close your eyes,’ he said. ‘I need to give Miss Lawrence a thank you kiss.’
‘She doesn’t like ’em slurpy,’ Bailey said wisely. ‘She tells Ketchup that all the time.’
‘Not slurpy,’ Nick said. ‘Got it.’
‘And she hates tongues touching,’ he added. ‘That happened yesterday after Ketchup chewed the liver treat. She went and washed her mouth out with soap.’
‘So no tongue kissing-or no liver treats?’
‘Nick…’ She was trying to tug away. She was trying to be serious. But his eyes were laughing, full of devilry, daring her. Loving her?
‘Miss Lawrence has said I mustn’t kiss her in front of you,’ Nick told his son, and his eyes weren’t leaving hers. He was making love to her with his eyes, she thought. How did that happen?
‘I mean it,’ she whispered.
‘So can you take Took down and feed the rest of the chips to the seagulls?’
‘Why? It’s okay to watch.’
‘What would the kids at school say if they saw you kissing a girl?’ his father asked.
Bailey considered. ‘I guess they’d giggle. And Natalie would say, “Kissie kissie”. I think.’
‘Exactly,’ his father said. ‘Miss Lawrence is really scared of giggling and she’s even more scared of kissie kissie. So, unless you go away, I can’t kiss her.’
‘You can’t kiss me anyway,’ Misty managed and his eyes suddenly lost their laughter. ‘Really?’
And how was a girl to respond to that?
‘I don’t…’
‘Know?’ he said. ‘There’s only one answer to that. Bailey, down to the water right now or there’s no fish and chips on the beach until the next blue moon. Right?’ And then, as Bailey giggled, and he and his dog headed towards the seagulls on the shoreline, he pulled her closer still. ‘Ready or not…’
And he kissed her.
Second kiss.
Better.
He knew what he wanted.
His parents considered him insane for being a risk-taker. He’d sworn risk-taking would end.
Was it a risk to believe he was falling in love in little more than a week? Was it a risk to want this woman?
It had been a risk to think he was in love with Isabelle. More-it had been calamity. But this was no risk.
This was Misty. A safe harbour after the storm. A woman to come home to.
She wasn’t pulling back. Her lips would feel warm, he thought. Full and generous. Loving and reassuring.
But then his mouth met hers and instead of warmth there was…more. Sizzle. Heat. Want.
Instead of kissing her, he found he was being kissed.
There was nothing safe about this kiss. It asked much more than it told, but it told so much. It told that this woman wanted him, ached for him, came alive at his touch.
It told him that she wanted him as much as he wanted her-and more.
Just a kiss…
Not just a kiss. He was holding a woman in his arms and he was making her feel loved, desired. He knew it because the same thing was happening to him. The awfulness of the last twelve months was slipping away. More-the pain of a failing marriage, the knowledge that he was always walking a tightrope, slipped and faded to nothing, and all there was left was Misty.
He was deepening the kiss and she was as hungry as he was, as desperate to be close. Her hands tugged him closer. Closer still… She was moulding to him and her breathing was almost like part of him.
He wanted her so much…
He was on the beach with two dogs and his son.
Ketchup was nosing between them. Misty’s hands were…pushing? She wanted to stop?
They should stop.
Who moved first? He didn’t know; all he knew was that they were somehow apart and Misty was looking at him with eyes that were dazed, confused, lost.
‘Misty…’ Her look touched something deep within. Was she afraid?
She’d wanted him as much as he wanted her. Hadn’t she?
Her look changed, the smile returned, but he knew he’d seen it.
‘What is it?’ he asked, but her smile settled back to the confidence, the certainty he knew. The impudent teasing that he somehow suspected was a mask.
‘Entirely inappropriate, that’s what it is,’ she retorted. ‘For me to kiss the parent of one of my students.’
Her student was whooping back to them now, trying to beat Took, who was practically dawdling. ‘Can I come back now?’ Bailey demanded.
‘Yes,’ Nick told him. ‘And you’re not to tell anyone.’ His eyes didn’t leave Misty’s. ‘That I kissed Miss Lawrence.’
‘Why not?’
‘People will tease us,’ Nick said and Bailey considered and decided the explanation was reasonable.
‘Like saying “kissie kissie”.’
‘Exactly. And then I wouldn’t be able to kiss Miss Lawrence again.’
‘I think you need to call me Misty,’ she said, no longer looking at him. ‘Bailey, when we’re on our own, would you call me Misty? Could you remember to call me Miss Lawrence at school?’
‘Sure,’ Bailey said. ‘Do you think you’ll marry Dad?’
What sort of question was that?
It was a reminder that fantasy had gone far enough. It was time for reality to kick in.
‘Um…no,’ Misty managed and the schoolteacher part of her took charge. ‘Kissing someone doesn’t mean you have to marry them.’
‘But it means you like them.’
‘Yes,’ she admitted, carefully not looking at him. She could feel colour surge from her toes to the tips of her ears. ‘But I gave you a kiss goodnight last night. That doesn’t mean I’ll marry you.’
‘It wasn’t a kiss like the one you gave Dad.’ Bailey sounded satisfied, like things were going according to plan. She cast him a suspicious look-and then turned the same one on his father.
‘Have you guys been discussing kissing me?’
‘No,’ Nick said, but the way he looked…
‘Has your father said he wants to kiss me?’ she demanded of Bailey and Bailey looked cautiously at his father and then at Misty. Truth and loyalty were wavering.
‘I’m your teacher,’ Misty said, hauling her blush under control enough to sound stern. ‘You don’t tell fibs to your teacher.’
‘Dad just told you a fib,’ Bailey confessed, virtuous.
‘Hey,’ Nick said. ‘Bailey…’
‘So you have been talking about me?’
‘I saw you kissing in the laundry,’ Bailey said. ‘I was sort of…up. But I hardly looked.’ He grinned. ‘But I saw Dad kiss you and later I asked if it was nice to kiss a girl and he said it depends on the girl. And then he said it was very, very nice to kiss you. So I asked if he was going to kiss you again and he said as soon as he possibly can. And tonight he did. Dad, was it okay?’
‘Yes,’ said Nick.
Misty glared at him. ‘You planned…’
‘I merely took advantage of an opportunity,’ Nick said, trying to look innocent. ‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘How many times do you have to kiss each other before you get married?’ Bailey asked.
‘Hundreds,’ Misty said and th
en, at the gleam of laughter in Nick’s eyes, she added a fast rejoinder. ‘So that’s why I’m never kissing your father again.’
‘Really?’ Nick asked and suddenly the laughter was gone.
‘R…really.’
‘It wasn’t just a kiss,’ he said softly. ‘You know it was much more.’
‘It was just a kiss. I’m your landlady.’
‘I’m not asking for a reduction in the rent.’
‘I’m thinking of putting it up.’ She started clearing things, trying to be busy, doing anything but look at him.
‘Why the fear?’ Nick asked and she shook her head.
‘No fear. You’re the one who wants to be safe.’
‘Hey, we went sailing.’
‘I won’t be safe,’ she muttered.
He frowned. ‘What sort of statement is that?’
‘Safe as Houses Misty. That’s me. Didn’t you know? Isn’t that why you kissed me? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go say goodnight to Gran.’
He was questioning her with his eyes, gently probing parts of her she had no intention of exposing. ‘Misty, your Gran’s been in a coma for months.’
‘And I still need to say goodnight to her,’ she snapped.
‘Of course. I’m sorry. I’d never imply otherwise. You love her. It’s one of the things…’
‘Don’t,’ she said, panicking. ‘Nick, please, don’t. I need to go.’
‘It wasn’t just a kiss, Misty,’ he said gently, and he rose and took the picnic basket from her and set it down on the sand before she could object. ‘Was it?’
And there was only one answer to that. ‘No.’
‘Then let’s not get our knickers in a knot,’ he said and his sexy, seductive, heart-stopping smile was back. It was crooked, twisted and gorgeous, as if he was mocking, but there was no mocking about it. His smile was real and wonderful and it turned her knees to jelly.
‘Bailey’s going too fast for us,’ he said. ‘There’s no rush. There’s no need to panic. But still, it wasn’t just a kiss. We both know it.’ He took her hands and tugged her to him, only he didn’t kiss her this time, at least not properly. He kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose.
‘Let’s take this slowly,’ he said. ‘We won’t mess this up by rushing. But maybe we both know it could be something wonderful. If we play it right-it could be home for both of us.’
Misty took the dogs with her because she wanted to talk to someone. She left Nick and Bailey sitting on the beach, and they had the sense to let her be.
As they should.
‘Because they’re my tenants,’ she told Ketchup as she carried him. ‘I need to be separate.’
But Took was bouncing along beside her. Took was Bailey’s dog. Ketchup was her dog.
To separate the two would be cruel.
It felt a little like that now. She was aware of Nick and Bailey watching as she walked away. She was leaving Nick. She was leaving his laughing eyes, his sudden flashes of intuitive sympathy, his sheer arrant sexiness.
‘See, that’s what I can’t resist,’ she told Ketchup as she changed out of her sandy clothes to go to the hospital. ‘He makes my toes curl but he just thinks I’m safe. If I give into him…if I dissolve like he wants me to dissolve, then I get to stay here for ever. In this house. Mother to Bailey.’
Wife to Nick?
‘Maybe I want that,’ she said. Ketchup was lying on her bed watching her while Took roamed the bedroom looking for anything deserving of a good sniff. ‘Banksia Bay’s fabulous, and so’s this house. It’s the best place in the world.’
As if in response, Took leaped onto the bed and curled up beside Ketchup. Misty looked down at them. Her two dogs, curled on her bed, happy, hopefully for the rest of their lives.
But… There was a scar running the length of Took’s face from an unknown awfulness. Ketchup’s leg was fixed tight in its brace.
‘You guys have had adventures,’ she whispered. ‘Now you’ve come home, but I’ve never left.’
Don’t think about it, she told herself. Take your scrapbooks and burn them.
Nicholas had kissed her and he’d touched something deep within. To risk losing what he promised…
For scrapbooks?
The kiss had felt amazing. Her body had responded in ways she’d never felt before.
‘I’m a lucky girl,’ she told the dogs. ‘Yes, I should burn the scrapbooks.’
But she didn’t. She slung her bag over her shoulder and she went to see Gran instead.
‘Do you want to marry Misty?’
Nick had left enough time for Misty to change and go to the hospital. He was aware he was rushing things. Risking things. Now Bailey tucked his hand into his father’s as they set off towards the house and he asked his most important question.
Did he want to marry Misty?
‘I’ve already been married,’ he said cautiously. ‘It was dreadful when Mama was killed. It takes time for a man to be ready to marry again.’
‘Yeah, but we sailed again.’
‘So we did.’
‘And it was awesome.’
‘It was.’
‘You marrying Misty would be awesome.’
Would it?
It wasn’t his head telling him yes. It was every nerve in his body.
But he wouldn’t rush it. He couldn’t rush it. There were things he didn’t understand.
She didn’t want safe?
She must. To come home… He longed for it with all his heart.
And to come home to Misty…
Home and Misty. More and more, the images merged to become the same thing.
CHAPTER NINE
HOW had they become a couple in the eyes of the town? It had just…happened. There was little gossip, no snide rumours of the Frank variety. There was simply acceptance of the fact that Nick was sharing Misty’s house, he was an eligible widower and Bailey needed a mother.
‘And he’s rich!’ Louise, the Grade Five teacher, did an Internet search and discovered a great deal more information than Misty knew. ‘He can demand whatever he wants for his designs,’ she informed Misty, awed. ‘People are queueing for him to work for them. If I’d realised what we had here I’d have kicked Dan and the kids out of the house and invited him home myself. You’re so lucky.’
That was the consensus. Misty was popular in the town. A lonely childhood with two ailing, elderly grandparents made the locals regard her with sympathy. They knew of her dream to travel, and they knew she couldn’t. This seemed a wonderful solution.
Especially since Nick was just…there. Wherever Misty was.
‘So tell me what sort of steak you like for dinner,’ he’d ask as he collected Bailey from school, making no secret of the fact that they were eating together. Well, why wouldn’t they? The dogs and Bailey insisted the door dividing the house stayed open. Nick was enjoying cooking-‘Something I’ve never been able to try’-and it seemed churlish to eat TV dinners while the most tantalizing smells drifted from the other side.
They settled into a routine. After dinner they’d take the dogs to the beach. They carried Ketchup to the hard sand, set him down, and he sniffed the smells and limped a little way while Bailey and Took bounced and whooped around him.
Then Nick put Bailey to bed while Misty went back to say goodnight to Gran-whose sleep seemed to be growing deeper and deeper-and when she came home Nick was always on the veranda watching for her.
He worked solidly through the day-she knew he did for he showed her his plans-but he always put his work aside to wait for her. So she’d turn into the drive and Nick would be in his rocker, beer in hand. The dogs were on the steps. Bailey was sleeping just beyond.
It was seductive in its sweetness. Like the call of the siren…
Sometimes she’d resist. She did have work to do. When that happened Nick simply smiled and let her go. But, more and more, she’d weaken and sit on the veranda with him. No, she didn’t drink cocoa but it was a near thing. He’d talk abo
ut the boat he was working on. He’d ask about her day. And then…as the night stretched out, maybe he’d mention a place he’d been to and she couldn’t help but ask for details. So he’d tell her. Things he’d done. Places he’d been.
She was living her adventures vicariously, she thought. Nick had had adventures for her.
And then the moon would rise over the horizon and she’d realise the time and she’d rise…
And he’d rise with her and always, now, he’d kiss her. That was okay, for kissing Nick was starting to seem as natural as breathing. It seemed right and wonderful-and after a month she thought it seemed as if he’d always been a part of her life. And part of Banksia Bay.
He was painting for the repertory society. He was repairing the lifeboat at the yacht club. He was making friends all over town.
And her friends were starting to plan her future.
‘You know Doreen’s mother’s coming from England next term,’ Louise said thoughtfully one school lunchtime. ‘Doreen would love to get a bit of casual teaching while her mum’s here to mind the kids. If you and Nick were wondering when to take a honeymoon…’
Whoa. She tossed a chalkboard duster at Louise. Louise ducked and laughed but Misty suspected she’d go away and plant the same idea in Nick’s head.
So what? She should be pleased. Nick warmed parts of her she hadn’t known were cold. He held her and he made her feel every inch a woman.
She should embrace this new direction with everything she possessed. She knew she should.
But then Nick would tell her about watching the sunset over the Sahara, or Bailey would say, ‘You remember that humungous waterfall we walked under where there was a whole room behind?’
Or Nick would see a picture in the paper and say, ‘Bailey, do you remember this? Your mother and I took you there…’
And she’d wait until they’d gone to bed and she’d check the Internet and see what they’d been referring to. The dogs would lie on her feet, a wonderful warm comfort, like a hot-water bottle. Loving her. Holding her safe.
Holding her here.
‘So when do you think he’ll pop the question?’ Louise demanded as term end grew closer, and she blushed and said,
Misty and the Single Dad Page 12