Page 59 of Just Say (Hell) No
“Because if you did, you’d have used it when you moved in. Which was—oh, yeh. A couple weeks ago.”
“I can’t make a mate in two weeks? Ever met Colin Murray?” At his blank look, she said, “Ha. I knew it. You should get to know your neighbors. Colin’s going to help me put a trailer hitch on the Beetle, too, so I don’t have to use your beautiful car in future. Isn’t that lucky?”
She gunned that turbocharged V-6 to shoot past the airport bus lumbering along in the left lane, then headed for International Departures in front of it, and Marko said, “Next time some journo asks me whether I worry about the dangers of rugby, I’ll explain comparative risk. Some people would slow down and let the bus go first. And who the hell is Colin Murray that he’s offering you his trailer?”
“I told you. Some people are dull.” She braked hard, swung in to the curb in front of Air New Zealand, and stopped with enough force to test his shoulder harness.
He should be getting out of the car. He wasn’t doing it. He’d told her a few nights earlier that he didn’t walk on a red light, but at this moment? Taking that walk was all he wanted to do. His body was forgetting again that she wasn’t his type, and his mind was following along. And she looked at his face and smiled. Sweetly. “Eighty-two last birthday. We bonded over the creation of Ella’s new desk. Very sound on the subject of varnishes, Colin. And you’re much too easy to tease. What are you going to do when those Reds boys start in with the sledging on Saturday night? Queenslanders aren’t known for holding back their unflattering opinions.”
“I’m going to hit them hard,” he said. “I love my job.”
She gave him that husky, sweet bedroom laugh. It sounded good. “I’ll be watching for that.”
“You’re going to watch me, then?”
“Somehow,” she said, “I just can’t help it.” She wasn’t doing as well with her teasing. He held her gaze a long moment, and he could swear she wasn’t breathing steadily. Of course, he couldn’t swear he was, either.
“Good to know,” he finally said. “I’ll try to make it worth your while.” He wanted to say more, but like it or not, he needed to get out of this car and go meet his team. Plus—red light. Instead, he said, “Let me know when you need more money in the account. And text me after Ella’s OB appointment. And one more thing. I know she said she’d wait to check out parents until after the next scan, but if she doesn’t, don’t let her go meet them without me. Somebody needs to ask the tough questions, the ones they don’t want to answer. That’s going to be me. I don’t want her having regrets later.”
“Marko. That’s…” Her expression had changed. Now, she reached out, put a hand on the side of his face, and said, “I know I tease you too much, but I’m not teasing now. You’re a good cousin. You do know that. A good man.”
It took him a moment. He put a hand over hers where it lay against his cheek and said, knowing the words were coming out hoarse and not able to help it, “Not so good. Not always. And Ella’s not going to be in my house forever.”
“No. She’s not. And you’re doing that…” He saw her swallow, and wanted his lips at her throat. If he kissed her just right, in that perfect spot on the side of her neck, she’d arch her back for him. She might even moan. He wanted to find out. “. . . that thing with your eyes again,” she finished.
He blinked. “Pardon?”
Her smile trembled around the edges. “The stare that could melt steel. I shouldn’t kiss Colin while you’re gone, is that what you’re telling me?”
“That would be it.” He answered automatically, because he wasn’t paying attention. Because he was being lured beneath the waves like the most hapless sailor there ever was.
A siren song,they called it. The pull of a woman whose voice called to yours, whose hands belonged on your body the same way yours belonged on hers. Like it or not. Resist it or not.
“Maybe,” she said, “you could be a wee bit careful yourself. In the pub, say, after the match, when the blondes and the beers come out. Maybe so.”
“Would that make you happy?”
She smiled, slow and sweet, and she wasn’t taking her hand away. “Oh, yeh,” she said. “It would. Could be a sacrifice, though.”
“Or,” he said, “it could be easy. You never know.” He took her hand from his cheek, pressed his lips to her warm palm, felt the current run between them, and knew she felt it, too. That song was playing in her head the same way it was playing in his. It had to be. Hecouldn’tbe the only one. “I may not know what color you are,” he told her, falling into those mermaid eyes and happy to go, “but I know it’s beautiful.”
A car behind them hooted, Nyree jumped and pulled her hand back, and Marko swore inside and said, “They can wait.”
“I’d better go. But I’ll text you your Ella reports.” She was moving on, and he wanted to throttle that bloke behind him. And then she smiled, a bit of wobble to it again, and said, “If you text me your card of the day.”
He knew his mum would be more than happy to send Nyree her very own card of the day, but he didn’t say it. He didn’t want his mum texting her. He was a DIY type of fella at the best of times, and with Nyree? He could definitely do it himself.
Do not,Nyree told herself on the ride home.Don’t you dare.
Small chance of that working. Her hand still tingled. She’d swear her heart was being pulled away from her and onto that plane, as if he’d stolen it when he’d looked into her eyes and kissed her palm.
Face it.Her heart always spoke louder than her head, and now? She couldn’t hear anything else over its beat, exactly as if Marko’s music had come to lodge inside her. Since her heart insisted on dominating the conversation, and this was her day off from Bevvy, and possibly because she’d had some trouble sleeping since that kiss on the deck, she changed into her workout clothes and did the same run she’d done that first day, through Dingle Dell and up to Achilles Point. She even ran down the stairs to the beach this time, after which she took a photo from the bottom and texted it to Marko.
Recognize these?she asked him.I can’t promise I’ll run them. But I’ll ambulate up them somehow. I may even try a few pressups at the top. Depends if anybody’s looking.
She wasn’t expecting an answer. Really. And she didn’t get one. Not for hours. She was checking her work on the trailer hitch, in fact, when her phone dinged, and she was pulling it out of her pocket even as she told herself that she was busy.
Three words.
