Читать книгу A Christmas Miracle - Amy Andrews - Страница 13

CHAPTER THREE

‘DO YOU LIKE CRICKET, young man?’

Oscar’s eyes grew to the size of saucers at the massive wall-mounted television screen. It had obviously been on when Eddie had wandered away from the house.

Cartoons and cricket were Oscar’s two favourite things in the world. Maybe because one of his earliest memories was the captain of the Australian cricket team visiting during one of his many hospitalisations. Oscar had wanted to play cricket ever since.

‘I love cricket,’ he said, voice full of reverence.

‘Well, come on, then,’ Eddie said, pointing to a big, comfy recliner chair. ‘Climb up. There’s still a couple of hours before they break for lunch.’ He eased himself down very gently into a more formal, higher chair.

Back in the familiarity of his surroundings, Eddie seemed perfectly compos mentis. He was pointing to the screen and reciting some stats to Oscar, who was nodding in fascination as if Eddie were some kind of guru.

A big old marmalade cat wandered into the room, tail flicking from side to side. It jumped up on the chair beside Oscar before collapsing regally across his skinny legs.

‘That’s Ginger,’ Eddie said.

Oscar patted the cat as if she were the most precious creature on earth. Ginger, obviously approving, purred like a motor. God. How was she ever going to prise Oscar away from this paradise? Cricket on a big-screen television and a marmalade cat?

She looked around her. It was paradise. She’d grown up with thin fibro walls and then thin air during her two years living rough on the streets. Reid’s house was like a freaking palace by comparison.

She was glad he wasn’t here. That he’d left for work as soon as he’d opened the door for them. She hadn’t been able to breathe properly since she’d clapped eyes on him so it was nice to re-oxygenate her brain.

To be able to think clearly.

The fact that her car was about to be towed and fixed, which would cost money she didn’t have, was uppermost but the surroundings were distracting as well. What would it be like to have grown up in a nice house with grandparents who loved you as much as Eddie clearly loved Reid?

Reid didn’t look as if he came from a well-to-do suburban background. If anything his badass biker/lumberjack look reminded her of a few guys she’d met while she was living rough.

But he was a doctor?

What the hell kind of doctor? She’d dealt with a lot of doctors these last five years—physicians, specialists, surgeons, intensive-care consultants—and by and large they were a conservative lot.

How had the medical establishment taken to Reid?

As much as Trinity was determined to stay put and not give into the urge to explore the house, the need to go to the toilet got the better of her after an hour and she followed Eddie’s directions to the downstairs bathroom.

She passed a huge kitchen and a formal lounge room as well as a bedroom, which looked as if it might be Eddie’s if the handrails she spied were any indication. The bathroom was at the end of the hallway and was bigger and whiter and cleaner than the room that Terrible Todd had demanded sex for.

Hell, if his room had been this big and clean she might just have considered it...

There was a huge shower complete with a rose as big as a dinner plate. It sure beat the crappy showers at the service station she and Oscar had used last night.

A hot wave of longing swept over her and Trinity grabbed the vanity as it threatened to overwhelm. This was too much. Just all too much. She should be grateful to have this opportunity to use these beautiful amenities and take a break from her life for a few hours but the pressure growing in her chest wouldn’t allow it. Things like this didn’t happen to her. She never caught a break.

And that panicked her more than anything.

She used the facilities and fled from the bathroom as quickly as her legs would carry her.

* * *

An hour later the cricket broke for lunch and Eddie said, ‘Who fancies a sandwich?’

‘Oh, I’ll get them,’ Trinity said, jumping to her feet. It was the least she could do. ‘You and Oscar stay here and watch all the analysis.’

Eddie’s kitchen was the kind she’d always fantasised about having. Large and open and airy, full of light from the massive bay window that jutted out from the sink. Pots of herbs sat on the ledge throwing a splash of green into the mix.

A massive central bench with a stone top dominated the space. It was beautifully smooth and Trinity ran the flat of her palm back and forth over it, hypnotised by its cool sensuality. A bowl of red apples decorated one end.

Underfoot, there were large white tiles, which carried through to the splash-back areas, where an occasional coloured tile broke up the uniformity. She could practically see her face in the sleek white overhead cupboards. Stainless-steel trim helped to break up the clinical feel.

All the appliances were stainless steel too and reeked of money and European innovation.

The fridge was a gleaming four-door with an ice and cold water dispenser on the outside and packed on the inside with an array of beautiful food. Trinity’s mouth watered and her stomach growled.

For the third time today she wanted to cry.

This was what Oscar needed. What she couldn’t give. A full fridge. Proper nutrition. She did the best she could with what she had and he’d always had a notoriously bird-like appetite, but maybe he’d be bigger and stronger if she could constantly tempt him with this kind of variety?

Trinity shut her eyes, squeezing back the tears. She would not cry. ‘It’s going to get better,’ she whispered.

Once Oscar started school.

‘Just hold on.’

She opened her eyes, tears now at bay, and grabbed things out of the fridge.

* * *

It was closer to three when Reid made it home and Trinity was as antsy as a cat on a hot tin roof. Oscar had already become firm friends with Eddie and Ginger and she was dreading dragging him away from it to spend another couple of nights in the car.

If it was fixed.

She was going to have to talk to Reid’s friend about some kind of payment plan for the repair. She hoped like hell he was open to it because she needed Monday’s payment to source some accommodation.

Trinity’s pulse spiked as she heard the front door open. She’d dozed off in the recliner with her son but she’d obviously been subconsciously tuned into the sound of a key in a lock. Oscar barely looked up from the screen despite being jostled as she practically levitated out of the chair.

She was fuzzy-headed from her nap. She never napped! She didn’t have the time for such luxuries. Her body, though, was eerily alert as she met him in the hall. On high alert, actually, as his black-leather-clad frame strode towards her and butterflies bloomed in her belly.

The man walked as if he owned the Earth. For a woman who’d spent most of her life trying not to be noticed, it was breathtaking. He was big and raw and...primal and she couldn’t drag her eyes off him.

‘Is it fixed?’ she blurted as he stopped to dump his keys and backpack on the hallstand.

‘And good afternoon to you too,’ he said, a wry smile playing on his mouth.

God, even that was primal. Full with a sensual twist that hinted at long, hot, sweaty nights and tangled sheets.

He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on a wall hook. ‘Pops okay?’

Trinity’s mouth went dry as her gaze took in his chest. Not because of the way his plain black T-shirt stretched across his chest and shoulders or how snug it sat against a flat abdomen. No. Because of the intricate web of ink covering both arms.

Invisible fingers trailed across her belly and the pulse at her temple fibrillated wildly. It wasn’t from fear, although God knew it should be. Or even from the kind of revulsion she’d felt when Terrible Todd had caged her in against the storeroom wall with his tat-covered arms.

It was from...fascination. Between the thick waves of his golden hair pushed back carelessly from his forehead to his beard to the tattoos she just knew didn’t stop at his arms, she couldn’t look away from him.

It had been a long time since she’d felt attracted to a man and even then it hadn’t felt like this. Oscar’s father had been her first and an ill-conceived choice at that. She’d loved him stupidly, blindly—all the way to the streets. But she’d never felt this kind of pull.

This was biology. Chemistry. She knew it in her gut. She knew it a lot lower too...

‘He’s fine. Still watching cricket with Oscar,’ she said, forcing herself to focus on getting out of here, something even more vital now her attraction to Reid was a living, breathing beast. ‘Is it ready?’ she repeated.

‘Not yet.’ He brushed past her, heading for the kitchen. ‘I’m starving, what about you?’ He made a beeline for the fridge.

Trinity ignored the question as her brain grappled with his not yet. Where would they stay the night if they didn’t have the car and just how long would it take to fix? There was no choice now, she was going to have to ring Raylene and see if she could have the couch for the night. Reid had offered to drive them home; maybe he’d drop them at Raylene’s?

‘What do you mean, not yet?’

He dragged the bread and some sandwich fillers out of the fridge and placed them on the bench. He glanced at her, his hands resting flat on the bench top. ‘Gav has to source a starter motor for you from a wrecker’s yard. Believe it or not parts that old are hard to find.’

He said it with a twinkle in his eye and dry humour in his voice but it rankled. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket of her three-quarter-length capris. It was a basic model—no fancy apps or data downloads for frivolous things like Facebook and Instagram—just a standard, cheap, pre-paid package but, like her car, something she couldn’t do without.

Being contactable and able to make phone calls was essential for someone with a high-needs child. ‘If you could give me his number, I’d like to make arrangements about the bill.’

His gaze held hers for long moments before he said, ‘I’ve already covered it.’

Goose bumps pricked at Trinity’s neck as her hackles rose. ‘I said no.’ She kept her voice low but even she was impressed with the degree of menace she managed to inject.

He shrugged. ‘It’s done. Now...’ He turned back to the fridge. ‘Would you like some wine? There’s a nice bottle of Pinot Grigio in here.’

She blinked at his back. Was he freaking kidding?

‘No,’ she said, testily. ‘I don’t want a goddamn glass of wine.’

‘You’re right,’ he said, completely undeterred. ‘I much prefer beer.’ He grabbed two bottles and set them down on the counter with a light tink. He twisted both the tops before she could stop him and sent one sailing in her direction with a deft push.

She wasn’t much of a beer drinker—not at three in the afternoon, that was for sure—but she caught it automatically.

Keeping her temper in check, she tried again. ‘I don’t want you paying my bills.’ He opened his mouth to object but she waved him quiet. ‘I know you feel like you have to thank me somehow but you really don’t. My bills, my responsibility.’

He tipped his head back and took three long swallows of his beer. Her gaze was drawn to the demarcation line between where his beard ended and his throat began. The thick brown and blond bristles of his close-cropped beard hugged the underside of his jaw line before meeting the smooth, bare column of his throat.

Trinity watched it undulate as he swallowed and leaned heavily against the counter as things south of her belly button went a little weak. There was just something so damn masculine about a big, thirsty-looking man drinking beer.

‘Look, Trinity,’ he said as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. ‘Let’s cut to the chase.’ He reached for the loaf of bread and pulled out four slices. ‘I’m paying your bill because frankly I don’t think you have two brass razoos to rub together and, if I’m not very much mistaken, you need that rusty old car asap because you’re homeless.’

He said asap as one word, as she heard American soldiers say it on the television.

‘So,’ he continued, calmly applying butter, ‘how about you—?’

‘I am not homeless,’ Trinity snapped.

He sighed and shook his head as he added sliced ham to the bread. ‘I was in the military for fifteen years, Trinity, and I have a very sensitive bullshit detector which at the moment is flickering like crazy. How about you drop the act?’

It wasn’t said with any kind of threat or malice but it was said with an authority that was plainly not used to being challenged. Her pulse accelerated and, like some errant rookie soldier who’d been caught out saying the wrong thing, she scrambled to qualify her statement. ‘I’m just...between domiciles.’

‘And how often are you...between domiciles?’

‘Only very occasionally.’

She’d realised while he’d been gone that Reid being a doctor could mean trouble for her. That it was mandatory for him to report any suspicion of child abuse or neglect. If it hadn’t been for Eddie and the car, she’d have picked Oscar up and run like the wind.

‘A rare night,’ she clarified. ‘Here and there.’

He smothered the bread in pickles and mayonnaise and slapped the slices together. He ate half of it in two bites, regarding her the entire time. Trinity didn’t like being scrutinised. She’d spent the last five years flying under the radar so Reid’s astute gaze made her squirm. Because of the power he could wield over her if he wanted to but mostly because of what it did to her body.

She felt the heat of it everywhere. The echo of it in every beat of her heart. It made her nervous and breathless.

Good nervous. Good breathless.

Her muscles tensed as he held her to the spot with his eyes. The man had clearly missed his calling. He should have been a cop. If he kept it up she’d probably start admitting to a bunch of unsolved crimes.

Or possibly have an orgasm.

‘You should come and live here.’