Page 41 of Just Come Over
The doorbell rang, and Zora jumped. Literally. Why was she so bloody nervous? Also, why did she want to get onto the floor, sit back on her knees, and have her card-shark son deal her in instead of going on this date?
Hayden said, “That’s either the pizza or the plastic surgeon. I wonder which.”
It was the plastic surgeon. Zora brought him into the lounge, and Rhys relaxed his hands, shuffled the cards, and wondered for the hundredth time why he’d accepted Hayden’s invitation. He had a game to coach tomorrow night, pizzastillwasn’t on his diet plan, despite the way it kept appearing in his life, and he wouldn’t have called himself a masochist. Before.
He kept his eyes off Zora’s soft mass of dark hair, and all the way off the deep-red lipstick that emphasized her full lips. Any man who looked at that mouth across a dinner table would be imagining kissing the lipstick slowly off of her. Unless he was thinking about the traces she could leave on him, and all the places he wanted to see that mouth go.
Unfortunately, if he didn’t look at her eyes or her mouth, or at her breasts, he had to look at her pretty legs, or at those shoes. They were chocolate-colored suede, the heel was narrow, and a wide strap ran diagonally across the instep, from the pointed toe nearly to the curve at the back. Whatever she said, anything “kitten” was sexy as hell, and those shoes were... He forgot to think what.
Her feet were small, like the rest of her. He wondered if she’d painted her toenails to match her lipstick. You could hold one of her slim ankles with one hand, while the other slipped that shoe right off her foot. After that, you could do the other one. Her legs were bare, her skirt was short, and...
He wanted to tell her that, yes, everything about her look was too sexy for a first date, or any date. He wanted to shove this fella out the door and tell Hayden to take over the kid-minding duties. After that, he wanted to take Zora out someplace where the lights were low and the tablecloths were white, watch her drink a couple glasses of deep-red wine, open her car door for her, drive her somewhere dark and out of the way, turn the radio to something low and slow, and find out how long it would take him to kiss off all that red lipstick, and how much he could make her sigh while he did it.
He wanted to make out with his sister-in-law in the back of a car. He wanted to do more than that. Also, he hated the plastic surgeon on sight. He was wearing a perfectly tailored deep-gray suit and white dress shirt, his black shoes were beautifully polished, and he clearly didn’t care that he was balding, because his hair was cut short and made no attempt to disguise his V-shaped hairline. Despite a skinny build that would go down in the first tackle and stay down, he looked like a man who’d done everything he could to make an impression on a woman, and who was confident he could do it. He was also eating Zora up, virtually speaking, in a way that told Rhys what kind of impression he’d like her to make onhim.Which had to do with that mouth, because that was what he was staring at.
Why were you so rarely allowed to throw a punch, or even to raise your voice, in social settings? That was a decided drawback to modern life.
Zora was introducing him and Hayden, and Rhys shook hands with the bloke and didn’t squeeze too hard, because that was a dick move. Nobody said he had to smile, though. The guy’s name was Alistair. He evensoundedlike a plastic surgeon.
“Where are you two off to?” Hayden asked brightly. “Better be someplace good enough for my sister. That’s me coming over all big-brotherly, even though I’m younger, and even though that’s Rhys as well, and he’d probably do it better. Wait. He’ddefinitelydo it better. Jump in here anytime, mate.”
Rhys didn’t.
Alistair blinked, but said, “I booked us into Sid at the French Café. That suit you?” he asked Zora. “And by the way—you look very beautiful.”
Which was what Rhys should have said, instead of staring at her and then looking away again and not saying anything at all. “Thank you,” she said. “That sounds lovely. I’ve heard the food’s gorgeous.” She was flustered, he thought. As if he’d summoned the idea, she glanced at him, then away, and her hand went up to smooth her hair. “Also,” she told Alistair, “Rhys isn’t my brother. He’s my brother-in-law. My late husband’s brother.”
“Oh,” Alistair said. “The reason for the surname being the same. I recognized the name, and you, of course,” he told Rhys. “But I didn’t realize...” He shifted tack like the smooth bastard he was. “That you were a widow, Zora.”
“Yes,” Zora said. She picked up her evening bag from the coffee table and bent and kissed Isaiah and then, after a second, Casey, who didn’t seem to mind a bit. “Don’t stay up too late,” she told them. “Also—four lollies max.Afterpizza.”
“Mum.” Isaiah sighed. “Iwonthem.”
“And yet four is still your maximum,” she said. “Because I’m the mum. See you later.”
A couple hours later, Hayden stood up, stretched, and said, “I’m not saying you’re boring, mate, but it’s barely nine o’clock, I’m falling asleep here, and it’s Friday night. Why does Zora’s life always make me feel like I’ve skipped a few decades and am suddenly fifty and wearing a sweater vest?”
“If you’re asking me if you can leave,” Rhys said, “the answer’s ‘yes.’ I’ll stay.”
“I told Zora I’d mind Isaiah, of course,” Hayden said in a musing sort of way. “On the other hand, they’re both asleep, and Caseyisyour daughter, isn’t she?”
His brown eyes were shrewd, but Rhys didn’t take the bait, just stared calmly back and said, “Yes.”
“Then,” Hayden said, “I think I’ll leave. See ya. Tell Zora I’ll expect a post-mortem tomorrow. What d’you reckon he makes a major move? The plaid shorts threw me off initially, but seen in his natural element, I’m getting a different vibe. Zora’s such a baby. The article probably said men liked red dresses best, not that you shouldweara red dress. It was short as well. Why won’t she ever ask for my advice? The mind boggles. And I’m off.”
Rhys thought,Good,and pulled out his notebook. He needed to organize his mind before the game. Perfect opportunity.
This time, Casey had agreed to spend the night. They’d played poker until the pizza was gone, by which point, Isaiah had won all Rhys’s lollies anyway, and was well on his way to winning Hayden’s. He only hadn’t won Casey’s because he’d helped her keep them. After that, Isaiah had said, while Rhys loaded dishes into the dishwasher, “If you stay over, Casey, we can watch a movie until bedtime. You can borrow my PJs that are too small. They’re Star Wars.”
She looked at Rhys, and he said, “It’s your choice. We can go home now if you’d rather.”
She said, “Will you come and get me tomorrow?”
“Yeh,” he said. “I will.”
“Do you promise?”
His heart did that squeezing thing again. “I promise. And I keep my promises. You’ll see.”
