The Lawson Boys: Alex

by Angela Verdenius

  Buffy sedately followed, stopping now and again to investigate a smell. Sunny gambolled around, jumping in and out of bushes, chasing things that Harly was pretty certain existed only in the cat’s imagination.

  What definitely wasn’t imagination was what had happened between her and Alex during the night. Just the memory was enough to make Harly’s heart quicken, her hands tremble a little, and a little shiver of heat low in her belly.

  One minute she’d been comforting him, a man mourning the loss of a best mate who’d been a brother in all but name and blood, and the next thing he’d been holding her in his arms, taking over, playing her body with the mastery of an expert lover.

  Well, she certainly hadn’t much experience to go on, but God above, she was pretty bloody certain that Alex Lawson was an expert love maker. Heaven knew that when he was here as a teenager the rumours were about more than just his impeccable, charmingly old-fashioned manners, and those rumours were fact.

  The Lawson boy might have impressed the older women with his manners, but he’d topped that by making a couple of girls actually swoon naked in his arms, of that Paul had told her was true. Knowing what she did of Alex, she’d never been surprised.

  Looked like she was now one of those girls.

  That thought sobered her. Of course she was one of the girls now. In fact, she’d become one of those girls that night sixteen years ago when she’d been swept along by his mastery even at his tender age of seventeen. She could still remember that night, it was a magical one she’d tucked deep in her mental chest of pleasure.

  He’d been so concerned, so caring, and when he’d sat her down on the sofa with that hot cup of Milo, sitting beside her and patting her hand, his gaze so earnest, his intentions so sincere, his low, reassuring words tore down her defences and she’d told him her biggest secret - she’d never been kissed and didn’t expect that she ever would, and, of course, that had simply made Alex step forward manfully. One gentle kiss, another, still another, each one a little hotter, a little deeper. Before she’d known what had happened, she’d been swept away in a tide of passion and Alex had taken her virginity. They’d barely had time to catch their breaths and realise what had happened before her parent’s car had sounded in the driveway and Alex had made a getaway through her window.

  The rest was history.

  With a sigh, she opened the gate and waited for Sunny and Buffy to go through.

  Well, she’d ended up in bed with Alex last night and he’d rocked her world, but as corny as the saying sounded, it was absolutely true. An older Alex, more experienced, more masterful, taking charge and pushing her up to heights she’d never believed truly existed. Now she knew and she wondered if she’d ever be able to put him to the back of her mind again. Nothing was exactly the same anymore. And where did it leave them now?

  Nowhere, really. In a couple of weeks he’d be heading back to the city and from there to the Army and probably deployed overseas. And she’d be here, existing in her own little world, once again alone.

  It wasn’t being alone that seemed so depressing. She didn’t mind being by herself, doing her own thing, in fact she enjoyed it. It was not having Alex in her life in some way.

  Maybe she could write to him. Keep in touch.

  Be his bit of fluff on the side?

  She smiled ironically. Alex met many beautiful women on his travels, bright women, amusing, talented. What would he possibly need with a woman like her living in a backwater town and liking her solitude, happy to see him come, happy to wait for him?

  And what was producing these thoughts anyway? It was one night, one love making session. A comfort that had turned into something more. Sex. That was all. It had never happened before with any other man, but regardless, that was all it was.

  She wondered if he was awake, and if so, what was she going to say to him?

  Walking up the drive, she glanced up at the house to see him standing on the veranda, leaning against a post with his ankles crossed and his arms folded across his chest.

  Her breath hitched. By the look of it, his hair had been roughly finger combed, a blonde lock falling over his forehead. Combined with the open flannel shirt over the t-shirt that didn’t hide the outline of hard muscle beneath, it gave him a slightly roguish appearance.

  His gaze was trained on her the whole time she walked up the driveway to the house.

  Coming to a stop at the foot of the steps leading up onto the veranda, she looked up at him, deciding to try for polite and friendly, choosing to ignore the blush that burned her cheeks at the memory of those eyes burning down into hers as he’d positioned her beneath him and then brought them both to heights of ecstasy.

  She might have tried to maintain her coolness, but the image made her sound a little breathless as she greeted him. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning.” His gaze swept over her, lingering on her bountiful breasts and generous hips before gliding back up to meet her eyes. He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

  What that did to her insides was not mentionable. Placing one foot on the bottom step, she began to advance up the steps. “I’ll put some coffee on.” Because that’s what one did when face-to-face with the man who’d, well…rocked her world. Or shagged her senseless, as Maryanne would say.

  No way in hell was she saying anything to Maryanne.

  She’d just drawn level with Alex when he grabbed her around the waist, pulled her close, and smothered her startled squawk in a deep, hot kiss that had her gasping for air when he finally released her.

  “Yeah,” he drawled, watching her through half closed eyes which did nothing to hide the glint of satisfaction within them. “Coffee would be good. I’ll just clean Buffy’s paws and then we’ll be in.”

  In delicious shock, Harly mutely stepped up onto the veranda, toed off her muddy sneakers and walked into the house, her thick socks muffling any sound on the hall runner. Sunny pranced along behind her, detouring off into the lounge room and her usual position on the sofa.

  Holy smoke! Alex had kissed her!

  Not quite knowing what to think, she entered the kitchen and filled the jug, plugging it into the power socket. Hungry from the walk, she put the toaster on the bench and took the loaf of bread out of the bread bin. Popping two slices into the toaster, she pressed the lever down and then braced her hands on the bench and leaned back a little.

  She had no freakin’ idea what was happening. What did that kiss mean anyway? It was more than a good morning kiss. Maybe it was a ‘thank you’ kiss? No, too hot for that. Thank you kisses didn’t involve tongue. Maybe he thought they could pick up where they’d left off?

  “Not going there,” she muttered. “No condoms.” And no bravery. Having sex with Alex in the shadows and lamp light of the night was one thing, but baring herself to him in the cold light of day was a whole other story.

  The toast popped up, making her jump, and with a sigh she placed them on a plate and reached for more bread.

  Alex entered the kitchen as the second lot of toast popped up. “Are you all right?”

  Realising that she’d been just standing there staring at the toast, Harly replied quickly, “Of course. Just thinking.” Buttering the toast, she handed him the plate without looking up. “There’s jam and Vegemite and stuff in the cupboard. Help yourself.”

  He took both plates to the table while she poured two mugs of coffee, adding milk and sugar to hers and leaving his strong and black the way he preferred.

  Placing the mugs on the table, she sat down opposite him and proceeded to spread a thin layer of Vegemite on her toast, strongly aware of Alex spreading thick layers of jam on his toast.

  Okay, what should she say? They couldn’t sit in silence while they ate, she avoiding looking at him while he studied her, and boy was she more than aware of his gaze.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” he finally said quietly.

  Slowly screwing the cap on the Vegemite jar, she replied slowly and truthfully, “I’m not s
ure what to think.”

  “Because of last night.” He took a bite of toast.

  Looking up, she saw that he was watching her with mild curiosity on his face. Okay, if he could be calm about this, then so could she. After all, she was an adult.

  She cut her toast in halves. “What happened last night?” There was no way she could avoid the blush that heated her cheeks. “I mean, I know what happened-”

  Damn the man, he was grinning slightly and his vivid blue eyes were twinkling.

  Harly drew a deep, steadying breath. “I mean, why did it happen?”

  His gaze remained steady. “Attraction.”

  “Attraction?” Maybe on her side, yeah, hell yeah in fact, but on his side? She wasn’t so certain.

  “Is that so hard to accept?”

  “It’s a little…well, face it, Alex, I’m not your type of girl.”

  “And what is my type of girl?” He seemed genuinely curious again.

  “I don’t know. The type you dated when you came for holidays.”

  He looked at her blankly.

  “The notches on your bedpost?” she asked with a touch of irony. “You do remember them, don’t you?”

  That grin curved his lips again, only this time it was a big grin. “Notches on my bedpost? How much TV do you watch? And what kind of programs?”

  A little irritated, she took a bite of toast and chewed while regarding him with one eyebrow arched.

  “All right.” Alex swallowed the last bite of his first slice of toast and took a sip of coffee. “I dated a few girls when I came here, sure-”

  Harly gave an indelicate snort.

  That twinkle just continued to light up his eyes. “But I didn’t date them all.”

  “Enough to know you had a type.”

  “I did? Do tell.”

  “The best looking girls in the town. You got beaten up enough for it by their boyfriends.”

  “Oh, that’s an exaggeration.” He wagged a finger at her. “Has Paul been telling whoppers again?”

  “Are you seriously trying to tell me that he was lying?”

  “Paul exaggerated everything back then. He loved spreading rumours.”

  “So you’re telling me you didn’t date and bed the girls back then when you were a randy teenager?”

  “No, I’m not telling you any such thing. I’m telling you my conquests were greatly exaggerated. I didn’t bed all the girls I dated, either.”

  “Gosh, that makes all the difference then.”

  “Do I detect a note of disbelief, Miss Bentley?”

  “Just a little, Mr Lawson.” She spread her arms out to each side. “Just a teensy weensy bit.”

  “Sad.” He shook his head. “Very sad.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh.

  Smiling, she finished off her first slice of toast, feeling at ease.

  Right until he broke the comfortable silence. “I didn’t always date the best looking girls in town.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And the last girl I made love to here wasn’t regarded by the Whicha teenage boys as the best looking in town, either.”

  A cold wash drained the warmth and humour from her, her gaze falling to her plate. From the past she could almost feel that humiliation reach for her, and it took all she had to hold it back.

  “They were fools,” he stated quietly. “They didn’t see what a treasure was right before their noses.”

  Startled, she looked up at him.

  “No one really saw you, Harly. They didn’t see the gentle soul behind the shy demeanour, the sweetness.” All laughter was gone from his eyes and he leaned forward, reaching out to lay his hand on hers where it rested on the table.

  His palm was warm, hard calluses abrading her skin, but his grip as he curled his fingers around hers was almost protective.

  “I don’t think I was that sweet,” Harly stammered, unable to think of anything else to say. “Shy, yes, but-”

  “You picked up the stray kittens and puppies, you helped at the local animal shelter, you ran errands for your elderly neighbours, and you were always the first one there when a kid younger than you fell and skinned their knee. Their muddy hands and dirty faces never stopped you from picking them up, dusting them off and sending them laughing on their way.” His thumb caressed the top of her hand lightly. “I saw it, Harly, but it wasn’t until I was older that I realized what a treasure you were. I was a fool not to really see you back then. But teenagers can be fools, we’re ruled by our hormones and egos. Such is life.”

  “I wasn’t an angel.” Harly shook her head. “I just knew what it was like to be overlooked. But I had a good life, I can’t complain. And I won’t have you feeling sorry for me.” The last she added a little angrily, giving her hand a tug and sliding it from beneath his to tuck into her lap.

  “I’m not.”

  “It’s starting to sound as though you’re trying to make up for what happened back then.” Taking a steadying breath, Harly lifted her chin and met his gaze squarely. “I’m a big girl, Alex. I don’t need pity, and I don’t need pity sex.” There it was, the subject slapped out in the open like a fish flopping around on a deck. No ignoring it.

  He didn’t flinch, just continued to regard her. The Alex she remembered from long ago would have been in an argument with her by now. This older, mature Alex had a lot more control of his temper. Some things did change.

  “I was the last girl you made love to in this town, I’m guessing, from what you stated a few minutes back.” She met his gaze gamely. “You took pity on me, we had sex, you made your getaway, and here we are sixteen years later, and tell me, Alex, was last night pity sex?” She almost shouted the last two words, immediately placing her hand over her mouth in horror and shooting out of her chair. “Oh, I am so sorry! I didn’t mean - I shouldn’t have said that!” Good God, did I really say that? May the ground open up and swallow her whole. Beyond mortified, she grabbed her plate, avoiding looking at him. “Are you finished? I have to wash up and go do some shopping. You probably have to go and help Paul and-”

  The plate was plucked from her hands and put back down on the table. Biting her lip, she looked at his chest before her, unable to help but see the muscles outlined by the t-shirt beneath the open flannel shirt.

  Two big hands cupped her cheeks and tipped her head back so that she was looking up into Alex’s face. Expecting to see anger, she saw only quiet contemplation and something else, a spark deep in his eyes that she didn’t quite understand.

  “Last night definitely wasn’t pity sex,” Alex stated calmly. “As for the past, I didn’t have pity in my mind when I made love to you that first time. I was comforting you, then suddenly something happened. I wanted you. I can’t just have sex with any girl, Harly, I have to have some feeling towards her, even back in my hormone-ridden teenage years. I had feelings for you, only I didn’t recognise what they were back then. I do know you avoided me afterwards and I believed that you were embarrassed, and maybe didn’t even like me that much, perhaps even not forgiven me for taking your virginity, so I didn’t seek you out. But you were the last girl I ever made love to in this town. For some reason, just knowing you were here made any kind of intimate liaison with another girl seem…wrong.”

  Harly blinked in surprise.

  With quiet conviction he continued. “Yes, I’ve been with a few women since then over the years, but not many. The relationships I had were missing something, a closeness, a spark, a feeling of completion. Only once have I ever found that missing something, Harly.”

  Heart thumping, she could only watch as he lowered his head, her lips parting as he neared enough for his breath to brush warmly across her mouth.

  “I found that last night, Harly, with you.”

  His kiss was feather light across her lips, a brush of sensitive skin, a shared breath, and then he deepened the kiss slowly, gently.

  It was such a gentle kiss yet it shook her to her soul.

  He held her still with
just his palms cupping her cheeks, yet it felt as though there were fragile, yet strong, ties binding her to him. It was strange but undeniable.

  His kiss soothed her, the coldness that had filled her pushed away to be replaced with a wash of warmth, a tingling in her blood, a flood of emotion that left her weak, shaken, so that when he lifted his head she swayed towards him until finally she was leaning against him, her breasts pressed to his chest, his tall, muscular frame supporting her easily as he bent over her protectively. Even though his hands remained cupped around her cheeks, his very presence surrounded her.

  Opening her eyes, she found herself gazing up into his, the blueness warm with a tenderness she’d never thought to see in the eyes of any man who looked at her.

  “Last night wasn’t pity sex,” he repeated huskily. “Last night was a miracle. Last night I found you again.”

  She didn’t know what to think, what to say. Her emotions were skittering all over the place, shock making the edges raw while an awakening of some kind soothed the sharp edges.

  “And this time,” he said with conviction, “I’m not letting you go.”

  Swallowing, she looked up at him. He was so sincere, he truly believed what he said, but the question was - did she? And how did she really feel in return? Sure, her emotions were running riot, but it was so much, too much too soon, his words making her mind whirl while the closeness of him made her feel almost too warm, and his clean masculine fragrance invading her senses made her thoughts swim. She felt as though she were drowning under a delicious yet bewildering ambience.

  Alex smiled slightly. “I’ve made you speechless. I didn’t think that was possible.”

  “I just…I don’t know what to say.”

  “Your mind is going a million miles an hour, isn’t it?”

  “Um…” Seeking to clear her thoughts, she dropped her hands from his chest and took a step back.

  He didn’t make a move to stop her. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  Worriedly, Harly chewed her bottom lip. “I don’t know if that’s wise.”