Читать книгу Abby and the Bachelor Cop / Misty and the Single Dad: Abby and the Bachelor Copy / Misty and the Single Dad - Marion Lennox, Marion Lennox - Страница 10

RAFF was waiting on the veranda and Abby felt her breath catch in her throat. She came close to heading straight back down the mountain.

What was it with this man? She was well over her childhood crush. She’d decided today that it was the uniform making him sexy, but he wasn’t wearing a uniform now.

He was in faded jeans and an old T-shirt, stretched a bit tight.

He looked good enough to …

To get away from fast.

He was leaning idly against the veranda post, big, loose-limbed, absurdly good-looking. He was standing with crossed arms, watching her walk towards him. Simply watching.

His eyes said caution.

She didn’t need the message. Caution? She had it in spades.

‘Where’s Kleppy?’ she asked, and she knew she sounded snappy but there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.

‘Phil’s still on his wild night out?’

‘Cut it out, Raff.’

‘Sorry,’ he said. Then he hesitated and his eyes narrowed. ‘Nope. Come to think of it, I’m not sorry. Why are you marrying that stuffed shirt?’

‘Don’t be insulting.’

‘He’s wealthy,’ Raff conceded. ‘Parents own half Banksia Bay. He’s making a nice little income himself. Or a big income. He’s already bought the dream home. He’s starting to look almost as wealthy as Baxter. You guys will be set for life.’

‘Stop it,’ she snapped. ‘Just because he’s a responsible citizen …’

‘I’m responsible now. Maybe even more responsible than you. What have you got on Baxter that I don’t know about?’

‘You think Philip and I would ever do anything illegal?’

‘Maybe not you. Philip, though …’

‘I don’t believe this. Of all the … I could sue. Give me my dog.’

‘Sarah has your dog,’ he said and stood aside, giving her no choice but to enter a house she’d vowed never to set foot in again.

He was standing on the top step of the veranda. He didn’t move.

She would not let him make her feel like this. Like she’d felt as a kid.

But her arm brushed his as she passed him, so slightly that with anyone else she wouldn’t have noticed.

She noticed. Her arm jerked as if she’d been burned. She glowered and stomped past and still he didn’t move.

She pushed the screen door wide and let it bang behind her. She always had. It banged like it always banged and she got the same effect … From the depths of the house came the sound of hysterical barking. She braced.

When she’d been a kid and she’d come here, the Finns’ dog pack would knock her over. She’d loved it. She’d be lying in the hall being licked all over, squirming and wriggling, a tadpole in a dog pond, giggling and giggling until Raff hauled the dogs off.

When she didn’t end up knocked over she’d felt almost disappointed.

She was bigger now, she conceded. Not so likely to be knocked over by a pack of dogs.

But there weren’t as many dogs, anyway. There was an ancient black Labrador, almost grey with age. There was a pug, and there was Kleppy bringing up the rear. Wagging his tail. Greeting her?

She knelt and hugged Kleppy. He licked her face. So did the old Labrador. The pug was young but this one … she even remembered the feel of his tongue. ‘Boris!’

‘Abby!’ Sarah burst out of the kitchen, her beam wide enough to split her face. She dived down onto the floor and hugged her friend with total lack of self-consciousness. ‘Abby, you’re here. I’ve made you honey jumbles.’

‘I … great.’ Maybe she should get up. Lawyer on floor hugging dog …

Boris was licking her chin.

‘Boris?’ she said tentatively and she included him in the hug she was giving Kleppy.

‘He is Boris,’ Raff said and she twisted and found Raff was watching them all from the doorway. ‘How old was he when you were last here, Abby?’

‘I … Three?’

‘He’s fourteen now. Old for a Labrador. You’ve missed out on his whole life.’

‘That’s not all I’ve missed out on,’ she whispered. ‘How could I ever come back?’ She shook her head and hauled herself to her feet. Raff made an instinctive move to help, but then pulled away. Shook his head. Closed down.

‘But you will stay for a bit,’ Sarah said, grabbing Abby’s hand to pull herself up. Movement was still awkward for Sarah; it always would be. ‘I’ve told the dogs they can have a honey jumble each,’ she told Abby. ‘But they need to wait until they’ve cooled down. You can’t take Kleppy home before he’s had his.’

‘I could take it with me.’

‘Abby,’ Sarah said in a term of such reproach that Abby knew she was stuck.

How long did honey jumbles take to cool?

Apparently a while because, ‘I’ve just put them in the oven,’ Sarah said happily. ‘I made a lot after tea but Raff forgot to tell me to take them out. They went black. Even the dogs didn’t want them. Raff never forgets,’ she said, heading back to the kitchen. ‘But he’s funny tonight. Do you think it’s because you’re here?’

‘I expect that’s it,’ Abby said, trying desperately to find something to say. Babbling because of it? ‘Maybe it’s because I’m a lawyer. Sometimes police don’t like lawyers ‘cos they ask too many questions.’

‘And sometimes they don’t ask enough,’ Raff growled.

‘Meaning …’

‘Baxter …’

Oh, for heaven’s sake … ‘Leave it, Raff,’ she said. ‘Just butt out of my life.’

‘I did that years ago.’

‘Well, don’t stop now.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Sarah, love, I’m in a rush.’

‘I know you are,’ Sarah said and pushed her into a kitchen chair. ‘You sit down. Raff will make you a nice cup of tea and we’ll talk until the honey jumbles are ready. But don’t yell at Raff,’ she said disapprovingly. ‘Raff’s nice.’

Raff was nice? Okay, maybe a part of him was nice. She might want to hate Raff Finn—and a part of her couldn’t help but hate him—but she had to concede he was caring for Sarah beautifully.

The twelve months after the crash had been appalling. Even her grief for Ben hadn’t stopped Abby seeing the tragedy that was Sarah.

She’d lain unconscious for three weeks and everyone had mourned her as dead. At one time rumour had it that Raff and Gran were asked to stop life support.

At three weeks she’d woken, but it was a different Sarah.

She’d had to relearn everything. Her memory of childhood was patchy. Her recent memory was lost completely.

She’d learned to walk again, to talk. She coped now but her speech was slow, as was her movement. Gran and Raff had brought her home and worked with her, loved her, massaged, exercised, pleaded, cajoled, bullied …

When Gran died Raff had taken it on himself to keep on going. For over a year he hadn’t been able to work. They’d lived on the smell of an oily rag, because, ‘She’s not going into care.’

With anyone else the community would have rallied, but not with the Finns. Not when Raff was seen as being the cause of so much tragedy.

How he’d managed …

If the accident happened now the community would help, she thought. Somehow, in the last years, Raff had redeemed himself. He was a fine cop. He’d cared for Sarah with such love and compassion that the worst of the nay-sayers had been silenced. She’d even thought … it was time she moved on. Time she learned to forgive.

But over and over … He’d killed Ben.

How could she ever be friends with him again?

She didn’t need to be. She simply chose to be distant. So she sat in Raff’s kitchen while Sarah chatted happily, showing her the guinea pigs, explaining they’d had too many babies and that Raff had told her they had to sell some but how could she choose?

Smelling honey jumbles in a kitchen she loved.

Knowing Raff was watching her.

She found her fingers were clenched on her knees. They were hidden by the table. She could clench them as much as she wanted.

It didn’t help. This place was almost claustrophobic, the memories it evoked.

But Raff was watching her and how Raff was making her feel wasn’t a memory. This was no childhood crush. It was like a wave of testosterone blasting across the table, assaulting her from every angle.

Sarah was laughing.

Raff wasn’t laughing. He was simply watchful.

Judgemental? Because she was marrying Philip?

Why shouldn’t she marry Philip? He was kind, thoughtful, clever.

Her fallback?

Um … no. He was her careful choice.

She’d gone out with Philip before Ben had died, just for a bit, when the boys had left home, Raff to the Police Training College, Ben to university.

Philip had left for university, too, but he’d caught glandular fever and come home for a term.

She’d needed a date for her debutante ball and was fed up with Raff being away, with the boys being obsessed with their junk-pile car when they did come home.

Philip had the most wonderful set of wheels. He had money even then. But he wasn’t Raff.

She’d made her debut and she’d found an excuse to break up. The decision wasn’t met with regret. Philip had immediately asked Sarah out.

Maybe if the accident hadn’t happened … Maybe Sarah and Philip …

Where was she going? Don’t even think it, she decided. They were different people now.

Philip especially was different. After the crash … he was so caring. Whenever she needed him, he was there. He’d encouraged her to take up law as well. ‘You can do it,’ he’d said. ‘You’re bright, organised, meticulous. Do law and we’ll set up the best law firm Banksia Bay’s ever seen. We can care for our parents that way, Abby. Your parents miss Ben so much. We can be there for them.’

And so they were. It was all working out. All she needed to do was avoid the judgement on Raff’s face. And avoid the way Raff made her … feel.

How could he bear her here?

One night, one car crash.

And it stood between him and this woman for ever.

How could she marry Philip?

But he knew. It was even reasonable, he conceded.

Philip was okay. Once he’d even been a friend. Yes, the man made money and Raff did wonder how, but that was just his nasty cop mind. Yes, he took on cases Raff wouldn’t touch with a bargepole. If he got Baxter off …

He would get him off, but Raff also knew a portion of Philip’s fee would end up as a cheque to the pensioners Baxter had ripped off. Not all of it—Philip was careful, not stupid with his charity—but the town might end up being grateful. Baxter would think he was great as well.

It was only Raff who’d feel ill, and maybe that was part of ancient history as well. If Philip hadn’t been there that night …

How unfair was that?

‘Tell us about your wedding dress,’ he said, and Abby shot him a look that was both suspicious and angry.

‘You want to know—why?’

‘Sarah would like to know.’

‘I’m going to the wedding,’ Sarah said and pointed to the invitation stuck to the fridge. ‘You should come, too. Did you get an invitation? Where did you put it? Raff’s coming, too, isn’t he, Abby?’

‘I’m on duty that day,’ Raff told her before Abby was forced to answer. ‘We talked about it, remember? Mrs Henderson’s taking you.’

‘It’d be more fun if you were there.’

No, it wouldn’t, Raff thought, but he didn’t say so. He glanced at his watch. ‘I reckon they’ll be cooked, Sares.’

‘Ooh,’ Sarah said, happily distracted. ‘My honey jumbles. I could make you some more for your wedding present, Abby. Does Philip like honey jumbles?’

‘Sure he does,’ Abby said. ‘Who wouldn’t?’

Honey jumbles. A big cosy kitchen like this. Dogs.

Would Philip like honey jumbles?

Maybe not.

Abby ate four honey jumbles and Sarah beamed the whole time, and how could a girl worry about how tight her wedding dress was going to be in the face of that beam?

Sarah wasn’t the only one happy. This morning Kleppy had been due for the needle. Tonight he was lying under her chair licking the last of Sarah’s honey jumbles from his chops.

And Sarah’s beam, and Kleppy’s satisfaction, and Raff’s thoughtful, watchful gaze made her feel … made her feel …

Like she needed to leave before things got out of hand.

She needed to go home to Philip. To tell him she had a dog.

‘What’s wrong?’ Raff asked and he sounded as if he cared. That scared her all by itself. She pushed her chair back so fast she scared Kleppy, which meant she had her dog in her arms and she was at the door before she meant to be.

She hadn’t meant to look like she was rushing.

She was rushing.

‘Will you take some jumbles in a bag?’ Sarah asked and she managed to calm down a little and smile and agree. So Sarah bagged her some jumbles, but she was holding Kleppy, she didn’t have a hand free, which meant Raff carried her jumbles down to the car while she carried her dog.

Kleppy was warm and fuzzy. His heart was beating against hers. He was a comfort, she thought, and even as she thought it he stretched up and licked her, throat to chin.

She giggled and Raff, who’d gone before and was stowing her jumbles onto the back seat, turned and smiled in the moonlight.

‘Dogs are great.’

‘They are,’ she said and felt happy.

‘Philip will be okay with him?’

Why must he always butt into what wasn’t his business? Why must he always spoil the moment?

‘He will.’

‘So you’ll tell him tonight.’

‘Of course.’

‘I wish you luck.’

‘I won’t need it.’

‘No?’

‘Butt out, Finn.’

‘You’re always saying that,’ he said. ‘But it’s not in my power to butt out. It’s my job to intervene in domestic crises. Stopping them before they start is a life skill.’

‘You seriously think Philip and I would fight over a dog?’

‘I’m thinking you might fight for a dog,’ he said softly. ‘The old Abby’s still there somewhere. She’ll fight for this dog to the death.’

‘And how melodramatic is that?’

‘Melodramatic,’ he agreed. ‘Call the police emergency number if you need me.’

‘Why would I possibly need you?’

‘Just offering.’ He was holding the passenger door wide so she could pop Kleppy in.

‘You know Philip wouldn’t …’

‘Yeah, I know Philip wouldn’t.’ He took Kleppy from her and laid him on the passenger seat. ‘You’re giving him honey jumbles and Kleppy. Why wouldn’t the man be delighted?’

‘I don’t know when I hate it most—when you’re being offensive or you’re being sarcastic.’

‘Maybe they’re the same thing.’

‘Maybe they are. I wish you wouldn’t.’

‘No, you don’t,’ he said softly. ‘It helps you keep as far away from me as you want. Isn’t that right, Abby?’

‘Raff …’

‘It’s okay, I understand,’ he said. ‘How could I fail to understand? What you’re doing is entirely reasonable. I only wish your second choice wasn’t Philip.’

‘He’s not my second choice. He’s my first.’

‘That’s right,’ he said, sounding suddenly thoughtful. ‘I forgot. You went out with Philip when you were seventeen. For two whole months and then you dumped him. Don’t those reasons hold true now?’

‘I can’t believe you’re asking me …’

‘I’m a cop. I ask the hard questions.’

‘I don’t have to answer.’

‘Meaning you can’t.’

‘Meaning I don’t need to. Why are you asking this now?’

‘I’ve hardly had a chance until now. You back off every time you see me.’

‘And you know why.’

‘I do,’ he said harshly and she winced and thought she shouldn’t have said it. It was too long ago. The whole thing … It was a nightmare to be put behind them.

‘Yes, Philip and I broke up when I was seventeen,’ she managed. ‘But people change.’

‘I guess we do.’ He paused and then said, almost conversationally, ‘You know, once upon a time we had fun. We even decided we loved each other.’

They had. Girlfriend and boyfriend. Inseparable. Raff had shared her first kiss. It had felt … It had felt …

No. ‘We were kids,’ she managed. ‘We were dumb in all sorts of ways.’

He was too close, she decided. It was too dark. She should be back in her nice safe house waiting for Philip to come home. She shouldn’t be remembering being kissed by her first boyfriend.

‘I loved kissing you,’ he said and it wasn’t just her remembering.

‘It didn’t mean …’

‘Maybe it did. There’s this thing,’ he said.

‘What thing?’ But she shouldn’t have asked because, the moment she had, she knew what he was talking about. Or maybe she’d known all along.

This thing? This frisson, an electric current, an indefinable thing that was tugging her closer …

No. She had to go home. ‘Raff …’

‘You really want to be Mrs Philip Dexter? What a waste.’

‘Leave it! ‘

‘Choose someone else, Abby. Marrying him? You’re burying yourself.’

‘I am not.’

‘Does he make you sizzle?’

‘I don’t.’

‘Does he? You know, I can’t imagine it. Good old Philip, knocking your socks off. Are you racing home now to have hot sex?’

‘I don’t believe I’m hearing this.’

‘You see, it’s such a waste,’ he said, and suddenly he was even closer, big and bad and dangerous.

Big, bad and dangerous? Certainly dangerous. His hand came up and cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at him, and her sense of danger deepened. But she couldn’t pull away.

‘I wouldn’t mind if it wasn’t Philip,’ he told her and she wondered if he knew the effect he was having on her. She wondered if he could sense how her body was reacting. ‘I’ve known since Ben died that nothing could bring back what was between you and me. But there are men out there who could bring you alive again. Men who’d like Kleppy.’

‘Philip will like Kleppy.’

‘Liar.’

He was gazing down into her eyes, holding her to truth.

She should break away. She could break away, she thought wildly. He was only holding her chin—nothing more. She could step back, get into the car and drive home.

To Philip.

She could. But he was gazing down into her eyes and he was still asking questions.

‘So tell me he makes you sizzle.’

‘I …’

‘He doesn’t, does he?’ Raff said in grim satisfaction. ‘But there are guys out there who could—who could find out what you’re capable of—what’s beneath your prissy lawyer uniform. Because you’re still there, somewhere. The Abby I … ‘

He paused. There was a moment’s loaded silence when the whole world stilled. The Abby I …

She should push away. She should …

She couldn’t.

She tilted her face, just a little.

The moment stretched on. The darkness stretched on.

And then he kissed her. As inevitably as time itself, he kissed her.

She couldn’t move. She didn’t move. She froze. And then.

Heat. Fire. The contact, lips against lips, was a tiny point but that point sizzled, caught, burned and her whole body started heating. Her face was tilted to his but he had no need to hold her. It was as if she was melting against him—into him.

Raff …

He broke away, just a little, and his eyes blazed in the moonlight. ‘Abby,’ he said and it was a rough, angry whisper. ‘Abby.’

‘I …’

‘Does he do this?’ he demanded. He snagged her arms and held them behind her but this was no forceful hold. It was as if her arms might get in the way, could interfere, and nothing must. Nothing could.

She was paralysed, she was burning, but she couldn’t escape. She didn’t want to escape. What was between them … It sizzled. Tugged as if searching for oxygen.

He was watching her in the moonlight, his eyes questioning. She wouldn’t answer. She couldn’t.

She was being held by Raff. A man she’d once loved.

She found herself lifting herself, tiptoe.

So her mouth could meet his again.

This morning she’d fantasised about Raff Finn. Sex on legs. But this …

If she’d expected anything it was a kiss of anger, a kiss of sexual tension, passion, nothing more. And maybe it had started like that. But it was changing.

His kiss was tender, aching, even loving. It was as unexpected as ice within a fire, heating, cooling, sizzling all at once. She’d never felt anything like this—she’d never known sensations like this could exist.

Raff.

He’d released her hands and they were free to do as she willed. Her will was that her hands were behind his back, drawing him closer, for how could she not want him close?

Sense had flown. Thoughts had flown. There was only this man. There was only this need.

There was only now.

Raff.

Did she say his name?

Maybe she did, or maybe it was just a sigh, deep in her throat, a sound of pure sensual pleasure. Of taking something she’d never dreamed she could have. Of sinking into the forbidden, of the longed for, of a memory she’d have to put away quite soon but not yet, please, not yet.

Oh, but his mouth … Clever and warm and beguiling, it was coaxing her to places she had no business going, but she wanted, oh, she wanted to be there. She was helpless, melting into him, degree by achingly wonderful degree.

He was irresistible.

She was … appalled.

Somehow, she had to break this. Her head was screaming at her, neon danger signs flashing through her sensual need. No!

‘No!’ It came out a muffled whisper. If he didn’t hear … if he ignored it, how could she say it again?

Did she want him to hear it?

But he did, he had, and the wrench as he put her away from him was indescribable. He let her go. He stepped back from her and his eyes in the moonlight were almost as dazed as hers.

But then his face hardened, tightened, and she knew he was moving on.

As she must.

Her mother’s voice…. Keep away from the Finn boy. He’s trouble.

He surely was. She was kissing him nine days before her wedding. She was risking all—for the Finn boy?

‘I …’

‘Just go, Abby,’ he said and she didn’t recognise his voice. It was harsh and raw and she could even imagine there was pain. ‘Get out of here. You know you don’t want this.’

‘Of course I don’t.’

‘Then take your dog and go. I’ll see you in court.’

Of course she would. She’d see him and he’d be back to being the local cop and she’d be a lawyer sitting beside her fiancé, trying to pretend tonight had never happened.

But it had happened. The feel of his mouth on hers was with her still.

She caught herself, gasped and thumped down into the driver’s seat before she could change her mind.

‘That was ridiculous,’ she managed. ‘How…. how dare you …?’

‘You wanted it as much as I did.’

‘Then we’re both stupid.’

‘We are,’ he said gravely. ‘We were. But heaven help us, Abby, if we’re stupid still.’