Читать книгу The Complete Red-Hot And Historical Collection - Ким Лоренс, Kelly Hunter - Страница 25

‘LOOK WHO I roped in!’ Rob said as the three men reached the table.

And then everyone was standing, exclaiming, hugging, laughing. Even Jessica, who’d never met Brodie, was in there.

Everyone except Kate, who stayed in her seat with a fixed smile on her face, watching the reunion.

There was a general scrabbling for chairs while Brodie went off to the bar for beer and the next round of cocktails was delivered.

Rob sat and drew Willa onto his lap. ‘Scott called to see if I wanted to go for a beer with him and Brodie, but I persuaded them to join us here instead,’ he explained.

‘I’m so glad you did,’ Amy said. ‘Because we were just talking about them.’

Scott sent Kate a brooding look, which started her heart thudding.

But all he said was, ‘I’ll go and find some extra chairs,’ before stalking off.

Brodie was soon on his way back, carrying three beers as he cut across the small, still deserted dance floor rather than squeeze through the crush of drinkers spreading out from the bar.

He slid the beers onto the table and Rob snatched one up.

Jessica looked up at Brodie conspiratorially. ‘We’ve been talking about our favourite romantic moments, Brodie. What do you think is better? Impressing a CFO with your business acumen—and no prizes for guessing who that one belongs to—strewn rose petals on a bed, a knight on a charger or From Here to Eternity?’

Brodie laughed. ‘Are they the only options?’

Amy slapped her hand over Jessica’s mouth—no doubt staving off any mention of dancing cheek to cheek in the Whitsundays.

‘Can’t take her anywhere,’ Amy said, and quickly redirected the conversation.

Kate was relieved. Not only did she not want to hear the Chantal story again—not with Brodie at the table and Scott on approach—but she didn’t want to let any red-blooded male into her guilty From Here to Eternity secret. And especially not Scott, who would laugh himself into apoplexy over it.

Scott had one of his false smiles in place as he handed a chair to Brodie. ‘I had to promise to go back and have a drink with a group on a hen-night bender to get that chair, Brode!’

Brodie laughed as he took the chair. ‘Don’t pretend that’s a hardship,’ he said, and then grimaced an infinitesimal apology as his eyes flickered in Kate’s direction.

Great. Brodie had seen her with Scott for all of ten minutes and yet he knew. Or maybe Scott had shared all the salacious details—perhaps with an offhand And soon she’ll be all yours, Brodie.

Scott carefully didn’t look at her—just positioned himself between Amy and Willa.

Brodie slotted his chair in beside Kate. ‘Ready for tomorrow?’ he asked, raising his voice a little over the rising sound of music that was being cranked up to encourage dancers to take to the floor.

‘I’m still game if you are,’ she said, leaning in close so she could be more easily heard.

‘Oh, I’m game,’ he said with an easy smile.

Such an easy smile. A natural smile. A smile that reached his eyes. Green eyes, like Scott’s—but deep and warm, not cool and cautious.

Amy nudged her shoulder against Scott’s. ‘I told Kate she should have asked you for lessons.’

Scott cast Kate another brooding look and she felt her self blush almost by reflex. Everyone at the table would be working it out any minute if he kept that up.

‘I sold my boat,’ he said.

‘Well, you could hire one, couldn’t you?’ Amy asked. ‘What would it cost? To hire you and a boat and learn how to sail?’

‘Well…’ Scott said, and rubbed a jaw darkened by raspy shadow.

It was the first time Kate had ever seen him anything but clean-shaven. His eyes looked strained too. Tired. And she was an idiot, with no instinct for self-preservation, because she wanted to hug him, and kiss him, and tell him to take better care of himself—

‘I’d say…’ Scott began again, with another look at Kate ‘… five thousand dollars? Or the barter system is okay. Trade a service for a service.’

—and kill him. She wanted to kill him.

Amy looked shocked. ‘Man, that’s expensive.’

‘But worth it,’ Scott said. One more look at Kate, and then he turned to Willa to say something.

The conversation ebbed and flowed around Kate as, silent, she pondered the way her evening had started—four friends sharing their secret longings for romance. But Willa’s was real. Whereas Kate’s…? Pure Hollywood. Never going to happen.

And it was probably time she admitted that she wanted it to be real. Wanted what Willa had. Wanted someone to trust her with his life.

Because she could be trusted.

People trusted her with their lives every day. They trusted her to extricate them from bad marriages with a whole skin and the means to live. They trusted her to do the best thing for their children. They trusted her to find a way for them to achieve closure, and keep their dignity, and get a fair deal.

They trusted her…before moving on with their lives without her.

And that wasn’t enough any more.

She wanted someone who trusted her but didn’t want to move on with his life without her. She wanted someone complicated and creative, and strong and principled, and smart and funny, and sexy and…and…hers.

She wanted love. She wanted, specifically, Scott Knight to love her. Not just the scent, the taste, the feel of her…but the whole of her. Wanted to trust him with her life and wanted him to trust her with his.

She wanted him to tell her about growing up never feeling quite good enough, and she wanted to make sure he knew that he was. Good enough for anything—for everything.

She wanted Scott to tell her about Weeping Reef. About Chantal and Brodie. How he’d felt, what it had meant, what it had done to him to feel so betrayed, if it still ate at him.

She wanted to tell him she would never, ever hurt him like that. That she would never betray him. Couldn’t betray him. That she—

‘Kate?’

Brodie—pulling her back.

‘Refill?’ he asked, nodding at her glass, which was empty again.

‘No,’ she said, and tried to smile. ‘And that’s my last—so don’t worry. There’ll be no heave-hoing over the gunwales tomorrow.’

‘It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve held a girl’s hair out of the way, so don’t sweat it for my sake, Katie.’

Scott clunked his beer glass on the table. Loud enough to make Amy, sitting beside him, jump.

‘Kate—not Katie,’ he said. And then he turned back to Willa as though he hadn’t just bowled that out loud and livid enough for everyone to marvel at, and asked, ‘When’s Luke coming home?’

After a stunned moment, Willa gathered herself enough to speak. ‘No immediate plans, as far as I’m aware. He’s in the middle of a deal in Singapore he won’t tell me anything about. Confidential, apparently.’

‘Confidential,’ Amy repeated, but the tone of her voice—all dark, when Amy was basically the brightest, shiniest girl in the world—made Kate wonder if perhaps she wasn’t the only one hitting the cocktails a little too hard.

‘Yeah,’ Willa said, a little uneasily. ‘He’s like a clam about stuff like that.’

Amy looked straight at Scott. ‘But you know.’

‘About Singapore?’ Scott asked. ‘Nope.’

‘Not Singapore. I mean what happened at Weeping Reef.’

Kate wondered what she was missing and looked around at the others. Willa was looking startled—everyone else confused.

Scott half sighed, half laughed, winced. ‘I think we all know what happened at Weeping Reef.’

‘I knew he’d told you. You know—at Willa’s party—when you said that…that thing about a gentleman never telling a lady’s secrets.’

Nobody spoke.

‘Amy,’ Scott said into the awkward pause, ‘if you think I have a lady’s secret to tell—one that doesn’t involve me getting up to no good with a hooker called Lorelei…’ He waited while everyone at the table except a cringing Kate and a startled-looking Amy laughed. ‘Then please fill me in. Otherwise I’m going to go and fulfil my obligation to that clutch of hens—or flock, or brood, or whatever the hell a group of chickens is called. The ones who donated a chair to our cause when I first arrived.’

He waited, watching Amy, who was blinking, stunned.

‘Right, I’ll take that as a no, then,’ he said, and stood. ‘Give me fifteen minutes,’ he said to the group at large.

‘Yeah—as if!’ Jessica said as he was sucked into the crowd. ‘It will only take him five minutes, max, to sort out his next one-night stand. He has the gift.’

But Amy was looking at Willa, dazed and confused. ‘Luke really didn’t…?’

Willa slid off Rob’s lap and into Scott’s vacated chair, right next to Amy, and took Amy’s hand. ‘No, Amy. He really didn’t.’

‘Well…wow!’ Amy said.

Brodie turned to Kate. ‘We seem to be a little out of this loop, Kate. Shall we join the few brave souls venturing onto the dance floor?’

Kate had a feeling Scott wouldn’t like her dancing with Brodie.

But, then again, Scott was in the process of picking up a drunken bed partner on a hen night.

And he’d told Brodie she was all his.

And Scott didn’t love her.

And he never would.

And she wanted to die.

What was one dance stacked against all that?

‘Sure,’ she said.

Brodie led her onto the small dance floor. Without any hesitation—and completely ignoring the fact that every other couple on the floor was dancing without touching—he took Kate in his arms.

‘What’s going on?’ Brodie asked, without preamble.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You and Scott. Am I going to get my teeth smashed in for dancing with you?’

‘No. But I don’t think the threat of that scares you or you wouldn’t have asked me to dance, would you?’

No answer. He simply pulled her a little closer.

‘So, Brodie, why did you ask me to dance?’

‘Because I love Scott.’

‘I don’t—’

‘And don’t tell me you don’t know what I mean, because you do.’

There was a pause as she silently acknowledged the truth of that. ‘He won’t care that I’m dancing with you. He’s not the jealous type. Not with me anyway.’ She sighed and settled her head on Brodie’s comfortable shoulder. ‘We’re not…meant.’

‘Why not?’

Kate ran through the reasons in her head and chose the least painful one she could think of. ‘For a start, he’s too young for me.’

She heard the laugh rumble through Brodie’s chest. ‘Scott hasn’t been too young since he popped out of the womb—when he no doubt emerged not crying, just calmly looking around and wondering how to get fed without having to ask for help.’

Kate choked on a sudden giggle. ‘That does sound like him.’

‘Yep—everything calculated, everything his way, no drama, no demands, keep your distance. He has more self-control than anyone I’ve ever met. Too much.’ Pause. ‘I’ve only ever seen him lose it once.’

‘I know about Chantal,’ Kate said, looking up at him.

‘Yeah, I figured you did. And if he told you that—’

‘No,’ Kate interrupted. ‘He didn’t tell me. He doesn’t get personal. Not with me.’

‘Ah.’

‘Yes, “ah”.’

‘But you want him to?’

‘What would be the point, when he’s off picking someone up for the night?’

‘Except that he’s not.’

‘Well, who knows?’

‘I do. Because if he was doing that he wouldn’t be heading this way looking like he’s about to deck me, would he?’

‘What?’ Kate squeaked, and Brodie spun them so she could see Scott as he approached.

‘I wonder if he’s about to cause the second scene of his life?’ Brodie asked, not seeming at all concerned. ‘Let’s hope so.’