Page 4 of Perfect

After a few minutes, the train slowed and the station platform appeared. Dormant butterflies started fluttering in my stomach, a whole zoo of them. I was now really looking forward to seeing my father and decided that I would embrace the time we had together.

My visit would also allow me to travel to Scarborough to check out the university campus. There was a foundation stage teaching course that I was interested in learning more about. Future plans and all that.

I stepped cautiously over the gap, noting that my painted toes were verging on talons and wondered fleetingly, if I had packed a nail file.

As I struggled across the platform towards the exit, I scanned for my father but he was nowhere to be seen. I exhaled sharply, disappointment thrumming in my chest as I shuffled further down another corridor toward the exit.

It was a bright afternoon; my eyes had to adjust after the darkness of the carriage. A fresh breeze blew against my face, but it held the trace of diesel fumes that wafted from the platform.

As I moved forward, dragging my case, there was a drop-off point with a line of taxis. Clusters of people stood there hugging. I blew out a breath; good for them.

My spirits dipped further. Had I been forgotten? I tutted. I hadn’t expected a welcome banner and balloons, but being on time would have been nice. I had purposefully texted my father my ETA earlier that morning. I felt disappointment chew through me as I searched for my phone, which I then dropped. It clattered against the pavement, and I bent swiftly to check for possible damage. My new iPhone was my life. As I straightened, it was then that I saw him.

A darkthrillchased through me as our eyes locked.

I cursed under my breath, my body stiffening, the dreaded realisation that my father had askedhimto pick me up was like taking a bullet. Why onearthwould he sendhim, I’d ratherwalk! Daddy knew how I felt about this particular person after the party.

I frantically searched the conscious part of my brain for anyotherreason he had appeared. Of course, hecouldhave been there to meet someone else, but I seriously doubted it. Did the guy evenhaveany friends?

The reason for my exasperation was there to collect me in all his male angst-like glory. I sure hoped I didn’t smell as sweaty as I felt. My spine went rigid.

Connor was leaning against a battered black Ford Ranger; I recognised the model as Lisa’s now ex-boyfriend drove one and holy shit, he was still gorgeous. Couldn’t he have put on weight or shaved his head into one of those styles that guys thoughtlookedgood but totally didn’t?

Clutching my phone protectively against my chest, I eyed him warily. I had probably gone pale with the shock. He hadn’t moved yet but his eyes were fastened to mine. The urge to punch his face was immense.

After at least a minute of glaring at each other, Connor pushed lazily off the truck and strode toward me with a dark expression like he’d been kept waiting, impatience radiating from him. He had that aura of control and held himself like he was so used to calling the shots. I still hated him on sight. At least my head did. My body was another story;everythingliterally stood to attention as female hormonesragedthrough me.

My mouth opened and closed in a fish-type motion, and I attempted to shoo my tongue from its hiding place.

He looked uber-league fit in scuffed work jeans and boots and a checked shirt with the sleeves rolled back. Connor’s tanned, muscular forearms were revealed and the sight caused warmth to skirt through my body. He had a sleeve of tattoos on his right arm, and another jet of excitement fizzed in me. I had to get a grip before I melted in a full-on swoon.

What the actual hell? I didn’t even like tats! A hot wave of lust rushed from my belly to my chest, making my nipples tingle. The top he’d worn to the engagement party had been long-sleeved, so I hadn’t noticed his tattoos the first time I saw him.

Connor held the stance of a confident guy who was so sure of himself, his body screaming ‘bring it’. He had a definite Cowper ‘monarch of all I survey’ air.

As I continued my summations, I realised how very different we were, Connor being a pillar of strength (graphite to my porcelain). I felt brutally reminded of the rules of setting one’s sights too high. A twinge of annoyance kicked in. Where the hell did that thought come from? As if I wouldeverwant a relationship with someone who was so severely socially impaired.

You couldn’t even read his thoughts, not really. His face was as complex as his backstory (whatever the hell that was). Why would any girl want to tangle herself up in that web of bullshit?

I swallowed back the reoccurring lump in my throat. The guy was hard work.

Those compelling dark eyes of his narrowed as he spoke. There wasn’t a hint of politeness on his insanely perfectly sculptured face. He hadn’t shaved either. Rough stubble covered his jaw, which made him even sexier.

“About fucking time. I’ve shit to do that doesn’t include babysitting you all day.”

Heat stung my cheeks as the words rolled across my bones. That voice was a low, rich rumble. I remember that deep sound perfectly, a tone that liked to touch. He didn’t have a defining accent, which only made him more mysterious. Goosebumps broke out on my skin, and I went all hot and cold at the same time.

He seemed taller and broader than the first time I saw him. Connor’s gaze skated over me, rudely looking me up and down. Of course, guys did that all the time, but their expressions usually beamed appreciation, not distaste. It made me feel conscious of my free from make-up face.

“I thought my dad was coming to meet me?” My voice was much breathier than I intended. Connor’s eyes were glued to my lips as he came closer, in touching distance and he looked pointedlydownat me; like he was humouring a small child or something. “Well?” I prompted determined that he wouldn’t ignore my question.

The space between us seemed to shrink further.

“Daddy is a busy man sunshine. He can’t afford to drop everything just because you finally got your head out of your arse and decided to visit us. Noteverythingis about you sweetheart.” His tone dripped with icy hostility, the type of sound that chilled you to the bone.

I grimaced at his harshness, hating that I found him so attractive. Why on earth didn’t I see him for the pig he was? My brain was sending out a warning my body appeared to be ignoring.

My eyes clashed mutinously with his. Connor’s jaw was strong and thrust out at a challenging angle. He was pissed off, but I saw a tell-tale sign that he wasn’t as immune to me as he would have liked. It should have given me more confidence. It didn’t.

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