Page 55 of Just Say (Hell) No
“Oh, I think she’s going to go ahead. Your mum said some wise things, but Ella didn’t seem torn, not really. Not to me. Overwhelmed? She’s that. But every time her mum said she couldn’t do it, she shut her down. She’s steady, eh. A bit like you.”
“Except green.”
“Solid green. She went to sleep straight away tonight, and the last thing she said was, “’Your feet are warm. So much better.’ Not weeping, like you might think, when she was alone, or at least alone with me. Adjusting already. And your mum’s awesome, too, but you know that.”
“What color is she? My mum?” Nyree’s feet were warm? Why didn’t that surprise him?
“Violet and gold. She’s beautiful. She’s… a river.”
He took another swallow of beer and looked up at the moon. “But you’re not sure you should stay, even if Ella does. Even though your feet are warm, and you like my mum, and you like my cousin, and you like my cat, and maybe you even like me. But…”
“You must know why.” She was steady, too. Too sure. “That’s not any kind of surprise to you, and this could get more than awkward. What would happen with Ella if it didn’t work out? She may need somebody who can spend more time at home, too. Somebody without a full-time job who’s trying to paint on top of it. I jumped in too fast, didn’t think it through. You’re meant to be the rational one here. What’s up with that?”
“Dunno.” He’d finished the beer, and now, he put the bottle down on the deck. “Maybe it’s what my mum said. The Fool taking the leap. Sometimes, you don’t need to look. And here we are.”
“I want you to know,” she said, “that if Ella does go home, it’s all good. I’ll paint your walls white and go back to my garage, and we’ll both have our regular lives back.”
There were heaps of ways he could have unpacked that, but he needed to take care of something else first. “She seems to want to be here, so she can separate this from the rest of her life. Whether that’s better or worse, who knows. Whether I should have told her she could stay in the first place—that’s the Fool again, I reckon. And meanwhile, she can’t be alone. Stay while I’m gone to Aussie, at least.”
“Of course I will. But I’m not qualified.”
“You’ve judged all right so far. Helped her do what she needed to do, and rung me when she needed more help than that.”
“Well, thanks. It would be easier if she came with an instruction manual.”
He laughed out loud. “Now you’re going to tell me you’ve ever read an instruction manual. I don’t think so.”
“Ha. You’re right.” She swung her legs off the railing and stood up. “So. Could be she goes home, and I move out. Or she doesn’t, and I stay until you’re back from Aussie, and then we see. And tonight, you’ll sleep in a bed that’s too small for you. Sorry about that.”
“But in an orange room,” he said. “So there’s that.” She was still there, one hand on the arm of her chair, her body nearly swaying. So warm, and so close. He stood up himself, setting Cat down on the chair along the way, and Nyree watched him do it and didn’t move. He said, knowing it was a mistake to ask and asking anyway, “Something I’ve wondered. You always smell like a cookie. Why is that?”
“Uh… my lotion. Almond. It has… some orange in it, too. Rose.”
“Mm. It’s nice.” He shouldn’t touch her. He knew that, too. He’d just slip a hand under her hair, there at the side of her neck. Just feel her hair against his hand. The tips of his fingers grazed her skin, though, and she took a breath.
Maybe he was touching some. Skin even softer than her hair, fine as silk, pale in the moonlight. Snow White.
Her breasts rose and fell, there where the jumper plunged, and he’d swear she was naked under it. He stroked his fingers down her neck again, and she shivered.
“I want to kiss you,” he said.
She didn’t answer, but her hand had come up to grasp his upper arm like she couldn’t help it. Her scent was in his head, and all he could see was her eyes. Huge. Dark in the night.
He shouldn’t. He did anyway. He had an arm around her waist the way he’d imagined, was lifting her onto her toes, and her arm was around his neck. He brushed his lips over hers, then did it again.
Surely those were sparks. An electric pulse, starting where his lips touched hers and moving all the way down his body. He did it again, nothing but soft, and then she had both arms around him, and somehow, she was almost all the way off her feet, pressed against his body. His hand at the back of her neck, her mouth opening under his.
It was gentle, and then it wasn’t. He settled his mouth over hers and kissed her more. Kissed her deeper. He kissed her like there was no coming back, like she was already his. And she wrapped her hand around his head, soft and strong and warm, and let him do it.
Surrender.
That kiss was all about the warrior. All about the winner. She felt it. Sheknewit. And what he was winning—it was her.
His jaw was smooth under her palm, and the muscles of his back, where she clutched him, were heavy and thick. He was wrapping her up in him, holding her so close, kissing her so deep, and she wanted to go further. Straight down into the dark. Right down onto her back. It was like she was already there, her head swimming, her body melting into his.
No.
The word hovered, trying to batter its way through, but how could anything get through Marko?
