Page 33 of Tempting as Sin
“For me?” he said. “Nobody. I’d met somebody I liked, you see. It seems to have colored my view.”
He got a searching look from wary brown eyes before she selected the lucky winner of “Best Melon” and set it on top of the dog bed. “Don’t tell me that.”
“I don’t have to,” he said. “I just did. Besides, it was for about eight weeks. I’m not auditioning for penguinhood here.”
“All right,” she said, “but that wasn’t what I was asking.”
He finally got it. “Are you asking about Antonio? Do you care?”
“I’d have said no, but if that was true, why did I ask?”
She looked apprehensive, but she also looked determined. “Isadora Grant, then,” he said. “The Iron Maiden, with the black armor and all. And, no, I don’t know if it lasted beyond the film. He’s a charming fella.”
“And did he always do it?”
He debated his answer, but she’d had enough lying. “I’d say yes. I’ve heard yes. And I think you know yes.”
The sweep of lashes as her eyes closed for a long second, and then she was turning away again.
He said, “You know—if we bought a few things, we could have a picnic.”
Why was he trying? He couldn’t have said. Or he could have. Because hehadkissed her against the wall in a parking garage, and he’d watched her sing and dance and laugh, and he wanted to do it again.
“Uh…why?” she asked.
“Because we’re practicing being almost related? Because I just got here, and the cabin’s dusty and, thanks to Chuck, probably full of fleas? Because it’s a beautiful day and I haven’t seen the lake yet, and I’m guessing you don’t spend a lot of time relaxing?”
“Or maybe,” she said, smiling at last, “because Chuck almost certainly loves to swim. He’ll drip all over you in the car, though.”
“Could be,” he said. “And yet I’m still willing to risk it.”
You’re her hero now?the cautious part of him said.I don’t think so, mate. She just told you that she doesn’t need a hero.
It’s a picnic,he told himself.That’s all.And knew it was a lie.
They changed the plan up a little, in the end. For one thing, Lily told him, “If your body’s a temple, I hate to think what a grocery store sandwich is going to do to it. We could order from Wildfire instead. I could go in and pick it up, since you keep forgetting your accent.”
That was why, an hour later, she’d said goodbye to Bailey outside the grotty little trailer after riding back with her on a street that was surely too busy to be safe, he’d fastened her bike to the back of the SUV, and he’d driven to the restaurant, with its tables on the patio overlooking the lake, its patio heaters, strings of tiny white lights, and wine. Its perfect ambience for convincing a woman with wary, wounded eyes that you were the man for her.
They weren’t sitting there, of course. Instead, they were sitting on a bench all the way up the lakeside path while the evening sunshine slanted across the ripples in the silver-blue water and the mountains glowed like dark emeralds in the distance, with a soaking-wet Chuck, blissfully exhausted from some ecstatic dog-paddling, snoring at their feet, and Styrofoam takeout containers in their laps.
Rafe said, his gaze on a bird hovering high over the shoreline to his right, “You know—I didn’t think you’d go for this. Is that an eagle?”
“Osprey,” Lily said, taking a bite of trout. “He’s fishing. Why wouldn’t I go for it? I told you, I’m not fragile. I’m not Bailey, and I never was. I may have been fragile once anyway, but I’m a whole lot tougher now. Also, it’s obvious that I’m not pursuing some unshakable attraction to you.”
“Why’s that?” he asked. “I’m thrilled, of course, to hear it, but…” She gave him a skeptical look, and he laughed. “Nah. Not thrilled. But what signal am I meant to be picking up here?”
“I’m wearing my overalls,” she said. “I’m dirty.”
“Both true,” he said. “And yet you’re still cute. Reckon I have no taste, or no sense. Fair warning.”
“Mm.” The osprey was still hovering, only occasionally flapping its wings. “Is any of Australia like this?” she asked. “All I’ve seen of it are the places we went. Brisbane and the Whitsundays.”
The air was cooling now that the sun had dipped lower, and the breeze had picked up. Soon, they’d need to leave. He knew it was a question she’d asked because it was a safe one. Impersonal. And yet he didn’t keep it there, somehow. “Yes and no. Aussie’s so much older than this. Ancient geologically, anthropologically, every way. Everything’s worn down by time, and most of the mountains are going to stop below the treeline. But there’s something the same about it, too. Byron Bay, where my house is—it’ll soothe your heart. Just like here. The sea on one side, and the hinterland on the other. Green as anything, paddocks and hills and the mountains behind. Waterfalls and pools, and more birds than you’ve ever seen. You hear them calling in the canopy all day, and the tree frogs and cicadas, too. It’s a noisy place, Aussie. When the sun goes down, the sky turns more colors than you knew there were. The birds will come in a mob, then, flocks of them, whirling and calling like you’ve never seen. Whole clouds of cockatoos, of parrots, coming home to roost in the gum trees. The roos and wallabies come out at the same time, too, like they’re claiming the place. You sit out there with a beer and watch that, and you’ll know you’re lucky to be there, because it’s the best show there is. The changing of the guard. So—yeah. Maybe a bit like this at that. Different place, same feeling.”
“You love it,” she said. He’d swear she wasn’t thinking a bit about herself. She saw him, she heard him, and she was paying attention. There was no monster under her surface. “I’m surprised you left.”
“Ah, well,” he said. “Heaps of desert and jungle as well. That part’s not so nice. Jace and I grew up on Army bases. Not generally situated in the highest-rent districts. And when you do films, it’s the UK or the States, not Byron Bay. But it’s a nice place to visit. In fact, it’s my favorite.”
