by Mandy Magro
Matilda looked at her watch. ‘It’s only four-thirty; maybe we can share a sausage roll seeing as we skipped lunch and grab an apple turnover each for dessert? What do you reckon?’
‘Sounds like a plan to me, my friend.’ Ryan swung the fourwheel drive into a parking spot, making Matilda grab hold of her seatbelt.
‘How about warning me before you veer off the road next time. That way I won’t find myself on your lap.’
Ryan couldn’t help but smile as he imagined her sitting on his lap. It was a pleasurable thought, albeit a very wrong one. ‘When you’re around me, you gotta be ready for anything.’ He turned off the ignition and picked up his wallet from the dash.
Matilda matched his playful grin. ‘Oh trust me, I’m learning that real quick.’
‘Is that a complaint, or a compliment?’
‘I’ll let you figure that one out, cowboy.’
Watching her step into the sunshine on the footpath, Ryan felt the flame she’d lit inside of him burn that little bit brighter. She was such a heady combination of strength and vulnerability. So different from any woman he’d met before, and if he was being completely honest with himself he couldn’t wait to get to know more of her.
CHAPTER
11
Fluffing her hair, Matilda made her way to the kitchen, the mouthwatering aromas filling the cottage making her stomach rumble. Freshly showered, barefoot and dressed in her favourite knee-length boho dress, which her mum had given her on the last birthday they had shared together, she felt somewhat cleansed of the emotional turmoil from this morning. She was ready for what would hopefully be a relaxing night ahead.
Thinking back over the day, she was still no closer to understanding what Sergeant Fuller and Ryan were on about and why their conversation became so heated. Her curiosity was getting to her. She was terrified of Troy finding her and fulfilling his promise of killing her, but she was choosing not to focus her energy on those issues just now. Finding the right mindset played a huge part in helping her to heal after going through attacks of crippling anxiety. She would apply the same techniques to this situation too. It was all she could do not to drive herself insane with worry. But she knew it was up to her whether she allowed the unknown and the fear to eat her alive or not.
If she ever came face-to-face with Troy again, she would deal with it then. For now, allowing fear to consume her wouldn’t do her any favours. Easier said than done, but she was going to give it a damn good shot. Though she knew she had plenty of strength within, she had to admit that having a man like Ryan Hunter nearby played a huge part in keeping the nerves at bay. She was deeply thankful that he was with her. Although, she was worried about what Ryan would do if Troy did turn up—the seriousness of the threats he made in front of the sergeant was something she didn’t take lightly. But there was no sense in worrying herself sick about things before they happened. It took her out of living in the moment and with Ryan just down the hall, she wanted to enjoy every second of every moment with him.
Quietly singing the words to the slow country song playing on the stereo, she pulled out the barstool from the kitchen bench and sat down. Engrossed in what he was doing at the stove, Ryan hadn’t spotted her and she took the opportunity to secretly admire the hunk of desirable man he was, at the same time thinking what a fool Pippa Jones had been. He was the dream bloke; no wonder Pippa regretted what she had done and wanted him back. Tattooed, tanned, tall and muscular, Ryan Hunter had all the ingredients to be perfect eye candy. It wasn’t only his good looks that attracted Matilda like metal to a magnet. Unlike any man she’d crossed paths with before, just by looking at her in a certain way he could send her heart into a crazy canter. But most importantly of all, she felt safe to be herself and felt protected by him; as if nothing in the world could harm her while she was in his presence. It was a welcomed sensation, but scary too. She knew it was a fine line between friendship and a sexual relationship—one that could be easily crossed if she allowed herself. And, she felt Ryan might still harbour feelings for Pippa Jones considering they had been together for almost eleven years and it was only six weeks ago that she had cheated on him. So Matilda wasn’t about to endanger her own heart by allowing anything to happen between them.
Taking a sip from the glass of red wine Ryan had thoughtfully poured to breathe as she’d had her shower, she watched him work his magic. His movements were sure and precise as he tossed a bowlful of peeled prawns into the frypan with a sizzle, standing back a little to avoid getting hit by hot oil. Trailing over the strength of his neck and bare shoulders, her gaze then followed the strong curves of his back muscles down to the waistband of his jeans, which were slung low on his hips. Distractedly, she licked her lips then sucked in a sharp breath as she imagined what treasures lay beneath the thick denim, chastising herself almost immediately for doing so. But try as she might, she couldn’t help herself. Every inch of him was perfection, as if sculptured by the hands of an artist. If only things were different and she had the opportunity to run her lips and fingertips over such a magnificent piece of art, she knew the pleasures of the flesh would be mind-blowing. But life was never that cut and dry. A girl could dream, though, couldn’t she? There was no harm in that …
Trying to divert her thoughts to cleaner ones before she did something on the spur of the moment, she smiled as she watched him pick the pan up and, with a flick, he flipped the prawns like a pro. This was the third time Ryan had made her a meal, and although that was lovely she was having trouble sitting on her butt and doing nothing. A man cooking her dinner was something she had never experienced before and she didn’t know how to take it. As much as she liked him, as much as she fantasised about tearing his clothes off and romping between the sheets, she hoped Ryan wasn’t trying to woo her. She didn’t want to risk ruining the beautiful friendship they were forming. Like her, his heart had been badly hurt, the big difference was that the person who had broken his heart still owned a piece of it. That spelt disaster.
Ryan caught her gazing at him. Curiosity flared in his eyes but he quickly disguised it by flashing her his distinctive smile. ‘Hungry?’
She was hungry—not so much for what was in the pan but for the cook. She mentally slapped the thoughts away and smiled. Her face warmed and she knew she was blushing. Damn it! ‘Sure am, and it smells heavenly.’
‘That’s what I like to hear.’ He sprinkled some pink Himalayan salt into the pan, followed by a crushing of black pepper. ‘Was your shower good?’
‘It was better than good.’ She rested her elbows on the bench and wrapped her fingers around the stem of her wine glass. ‘Showers are like meditation to me.’
Ryan squeezed half a lemon over the prawns. ‘Me too. I always imagine the water washing away the bad bits of my day.’
She sat up a little straighter. ‘You do?’
‘Yep.’
Matilda took a delicate sip from her wine. ‘Wow, for a bloke you really do think quite deeply.’ She laughed. ‘Are you sure you’re not from another planet?’
‘A Gemini trait, apparently.’ He took the lid off the pot of rice and fluffed it with a fork.
‘Well, it’s a good trait to have.’
‘Sometimes it is. Other times it drives me around the bend because I dissect everything so much I find it hard to put it back together and make sense of it.’
‘You’re really sure you don’t want me to help you, Ryan? I feel awful sitting here while you do all the work.’
‘Nope, like I said before, you’ll just get in the way.’ He looked across from the stove, after stirring the frypan filled with plump prawns and creamy garlic sauce, and gave her a wink. ‘I’m almost finished anyway.’
‘How about you at least let me set the table then?’
‘I was thinking we could take a bowl each, grab the bottle of wine, and go and sit on the couch out in the backyard. It’s a perfect night for it.’
It was a perfect night for what?
Matilda’s imagination
began to run wild but she quickly pulled it back into line as though reprimanding a naughty child. Ryan’s attention was intense, and exciting, and flattering, and oh so not what she should be relishing. She felt herself squirm a little beneath his gaze.
Control yourself Tilly …
‘Oh, that sounds like a great idea.’ She raised her glass. ‘Good thinking, Eighty-Six.’
‘You’re welcome, Ninety-Nine.’ Ryan grinned. ‘I thought you’d rather that than sitting at a table.’ He held up a bunch of parsley and snipped some of it into the pan. ‘To be honest, I’d rather that too.’
‘Just another thing we have in common then, huh?’
‘Yep.’ Ryan flicked the gas off and carried the frypan over to one of the cork heat-mats he’d placed near the bowls. ‘Actually, you can do one thing, if you like.’ He wandered back to the stove and grabbed the pot of rice.
‘Sure, ask away.’
Spooning rice into the bowls he motioned towards the sink with a tip of his head. ‘There’s a lighter on the windowsill over there, can you light the two citronella burners so we’re not carried away by the mozzies. I forgot to do it when I was out there earlier.’
Keen to help, Matilda leapt off her stool, noticing that the glass of wine she’d basically just inhaled was not doing her legs any favours. They almost felt as if they weren’t there and she was floating on air. Or was Ryan’s charm the culprit? She didn’t want to think too much about it. ‘Consider it done.’
She made her way around the kitchen bench with a spring in her step she hadn’t felt for eons, if ever. Walking near Ryan, his freshly showered scent lingered, making her drag in a deep breath to capture it. For a second she had to fight the urge to press against his burly chest to breathe in more of him. Her gaze flickered to the trail of hair that went downwards from his belly button, over his tight lower stomach, and then disappeared beneath his jeans. He really was as sexy as hell. Damn the wine for making her so lustful. Fighting off her urges she brushed past him and sneakily dipped her finger in the luscious looking sauce, avoiding his playful shove. ‘Oh. My. God. That is the most amazing garlic sauce I’ve ever tasted.’ She went in for another finger dunk but Ryan tugged the pan away.
‘Like anything worth waiting for, you’ll just have to be patient.’
‘You’re a big meany.’
His eyes regarded her warmly. ‘Yeah right, whatever.’ He smiled proudly. ‘I’m honoured you reckon it’s so good—a lot of effort went into that sauce.’
‘Any secret ingredients in there I should know about?’
‘Just a whole lotta love.’ Ryan wiped his hands on a tea towel, then slung it over his bare shoulder.
‘Look at you go, Mister Led Zeppelin.’ With the flutter of butterfly wings in her belly Matilda picked up the lighter from the windowsill. It suddenly felt very hot in the kitchen, and not because of the heat from the stove. The sparks Ryan had lit inside her the moment she had laid eyes on him in the truck were now turning into flickering flames. She really needed to take steps to extinguish them before she found herself engulfed. Say something, anything …‘You really do love cooking, don’t you?’ She noticed her words sounded a little breathless.
‘Sure do. Especially when the fridge is full of fresh ingredients. I think we went a little crazy at the supermarket today. There’s enough food to last us a month. I can barely shut the crisper drawer.’
‘I always say not to go grocery shopping when you’re hungry and today was proof of that.’
‘Good advice, although we had just scoffed half a lamb sausage roll each so we shouldn’t have been that hungry.’
‘Yeah, but it was so good it only made me more ravenous. Speaking of good things, I’m cooking you my famous lamb roast tomorrow night.’ She made her way to the back door.
‘We might be at the pub tomorrow night, well I definitely will be, but if you’re happy to cook it on Sunday night it’s a date,’ Ryan called out as the screen door closed behind her.
A date? His words struck her like lightning. Was he being serious or just engaging in friendly banter as they did so often? It was hard to tell. One thing was for certain, though, as much as the thought tickled her fancy, she wasn’t going to encourage him to step over the friendship line.
Striding into the refreshing night air, her jaw dropped when she saw the scene Ryan had laid out for their dinner. He must have set it up when she was in the shower. He’d brought the couch out onto the back lawn and a little fire-pit sparked and crackled in front of it. A blanket was slung over the back of the couch and two big comfy cushions sat at either end of it. Huckleberry was curled up amongst the cosiness of it all, his head buried beneath one of the cushions. The trees that lined the back fence were glowing with fairy lights. Stretching out to the horizon, the velvet black sky put on a dazzling show worthy of a standing ovation.
Matilda’s hands fluttered to her chest, her eyes watering. She had never seen anything so beautiful in all her life—be it as a friend or something more, no man had done anything like this for her. No one had ever given her a bunch of flowers or a box of chocolates, not even on Valentine’s Day, which she always preferred to skip because all it did was remind her that she didn’t have a man who loved her enough to make her feel special.
It both confused and warmed her that Ryan was going to so much effort—not only to take care of her but to make her feel she was worthy of such attention. Was he trying to tell her something, or was he just being his thoughtful, caring self? Niggling self-doubt also made her wonder if something else was at play. Was there a reason—one he wasn’t letting on about—for being so nice to her? She really didn’t feel worthy of such effort.
With her emotions threatening to overcome her, she quickly lit the citronella candles. Then, sitting on the edge of the couch, she admired the scene again. Huckleberry stirred and she gently placed her hand on his side to still him. His breathing slowed as he went back to sleep in seconds. Matilda smiled tenderly, knowing how he felt as she, too, felt so at peace here. It was a strange feeling and one she couldn’t explain, but she liked it. Looking at the glimmering sea of stars, which appeared close enough for her to reach right out and touch, she quietly spoke to her mother.
‘What’s happening here, Mum?’ She sniffled and wiped her teary eyes. ‘I don’t want to like Ryan, but I do, and that terrifies me. Because it’s fruitless, feeling the way I do. I mean, why would a man as wonderful as him ever want to be with a woman as destitute as me?’ She sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes, gently shaking her head. ‘Part of me thinks I shouldn’t stay here, because I’m only going to get hurt again if I keep allowing myself to feel like this. But where will I go if I leave?’ She sighed as she opened her eyes. ‘Please give me a sign, something to let me know I’m doing the right thing by staying here.’
Staring into the sky, she waited, and waited. She dropped her head and closed her eyes, squeezing back the tears. ‘I’m such an idiot, waiting for you to answer me.’
A hand lightly touching her shoulder made her jump. Ryan’s familiar spicy scent followed. She froze. How much of that had he heard? She felt her face flush red and thanked God it was so dark he would not notice.
‘Look, Tilly, a shooting star.’ His voice was husky, gentle and full of awe.
She looked up immediately to where he was pointing. The bright flash streaked across the night sky at the speed of light, briefly leaving a fiery trail in its wake. As it vanished, a wispy smile replaced the sadness and sprinkled some hope in her aching heart. Maybe this was her mum’s way of telling her she was exactly where she needed to be, whatever the outcome.
Part of her felt it might be wise to find other accommodation, so she didn’t fall any further for Ryan and so he didn’t have to deal with her messy life. But she felt at peace here, at home. She wanted to believe that by staying here she was doing the right thing. She wasn’t sure if the shooting star was pure coincidence, but she liked to hold onto the belief that her mother could still hear
her and was reaching out to her. ‘Wow,’ was all she could choke out.
Now wearing a t-shirt, Ryan sat down beside her, his eyes as wide as his smile as he gazed out at the heavens. ‘It’s so beautiful, isn’t it? I could stare at it all night long.’
‘It sure is.’ She wanted to ask him if he had overheard her whispers to her mother, but thought it best not to. She didn’t want to hear him say yes. So instead, silence hung companionably between them for a few moments before she spoke again. ‘You want a hand to bring dinner out?’
He turned to her and shook his head as though dazed, making Matilda wonder whether it was because he’d overheard her, or purely from his love of the breathtaking sky.
‘Oh, yeah, sorry, Tilly, got a bit side-tracked with all this.’ He waved his arms wide over the landscape and up towards the stars, then leapt to his feet. ‘I thought you might like to dish yours up. I tend to pile the plate sky high and I don’t want to make you feel as though you have to eat it all.’
Matilda joined him in standing. ‘Oh, trust me when I say I can eat like a horse.’
‘I’m kind of starting to figure that one out. God knows where you put it all though, with your tiny figure.’
Another compliment? Dang. She wasn’t used to this.
Inside, they dished up their food, Ryan picked up the bottle of wine and they headed back out into the pleasant evening. Then, they dined under the stars, sipped on their glasses of red and talked with the ease of two people completely in tune with one another for the next couple of hours while nestled beneath the blanket, the topics light and fun filled. Ryan’s stories of what he used to get up to with Jake and Ben as teenagers sent Matilda into stitches of laughter.
‘Which one of you came up with the clever idea to tie rocks to the frogs’ legs before you threw them onto your grumpy principal’s roof?’