Fixed Up Page 8

  ‘My mother was a disaster.’ Words blurted out of her, faster than speeding bullets. ‘She couldn’t do a thing for herself. She tried to bring Annie and me up on her own, but she was bloody useless. I know I sound horrible, but she was. Useless. And that was when she remembered we were even there.’

  ‘What about your father?’

  Harper pushed her hands deeper under her thighs. Her eyes searched Luke’s face. ‘I don’t have one and Annie’s died when she was a baby. Piecing it altogether now, as an adult, I think Mum lost it after he died. She used to cry a lot.’

  ‘And you? How did you cope?’

  ‘I was only five. I think I was angry that he’d gone. And then I suppose I just forgot.’ She kicked her boots against the step as if dislodging a stone. A puff of sawdust fell from her socks.

  ‘I remember when I was little, there was a storm, like the one last night, and a section of our roof blew off. Mum cried. We couldn’t afford to fix it. But then a few days later it was fixed. Mum had a new boyfriend and it just so happened he owned a roofing business. Then it was pipes. Mum needed the ancient copper pipes replaced so the next boyfriend was a plumber. I still remember the shiny new taps … It took me ‘til I was twelve to see the pattern. All I’d noticed up until then was that every time Mum had a new boyfriend, I had to keep out of the way and look after Annie.’ Harper sniffed, hoping she didn’t sound bitter. Or worse, sorry for herself. It was what it was.

  ‘You’re clearly nothing like your mother.’ Luke said. ‘Your tree fell over and you started chopping it up all on your own. I don’t know another woman on the planet who’d do that. I don’t know another woman who owns a chainsaw, much less knows how to actually use it.’ Luke laughed. ‘Jeez, normally you wouldn’t get me within fifty metres of a chick with a chainsaw.’ He had that glint in his eye again and he reached over to pull her hand out from under her, toppling her off balance so she leaned against him. He spoke softly, his voice a whisper in her ear: ‘You, Harper Cassidy, are nothing like your mother, and as you insist I’m not your boyfriend you don’t owe me a thing.’

  Harper’s nose pressed against Luke’s shirt. He smelled hot, sweaty and very comforting. Her senses reeled, her eyes closing as she took a surreptitious breath.

  ‘Okay,’ she said. But it wasn’t. She’d spilled too much personal information. He knew too much about her now. And even though he’d been totally relaxed about her freak out, she couldn’t help feeling embarrassed. The memory of his lips on hers surged back to the surface. Lips like those were rule breakers and once the rules were broken she’d be following her mother straight to hell in a shiny new hand basin.

  Chapter 9

  Luke sat dead still. Maybe if he didn’t move, Harper wouldn’t either and he could savour this moment, which felt like a major breakthrough. He wasn’t sure why she was sniffing him, he imagined he smelled pretty rank, but hey, he was happy if she was happy. Whatever turned her on was fine by him.

  He was starting to feel pretty turned on himself now.

  ‘Will you come out for dinner with me tonight?’ he asked.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I think you heard me. Yes or no?’ Stop pissing about, Harper. I know you know I really like you.

  Harper looked at him. ‘Yes, but it’s not a date. It’s my treat—as a thank you because you helped me out today.’

  He was tempted to tell her she was annoying and difficult and that she didn’t deserve him. But he didn’t. You’re a prize idiot. She doesn’t give a shit about you as anything more than a friend.

  Luke pulled himself away. ‘I’ll head home to shower and pick you up at seven-ish?’

  Harper nodded. ‘Or I could pick you up.’

  ‘No. I’ll drive. See you at seven.’ He hoisted his gear up and headed out to the truck, too afraid to look back in case she changed her mind. She might think it was on her terms, that it wasn’t a date and that she was paying, but he knew differently.

  To Luke it was the chance he’d been waiting for. The night out with her he’d wanted since the day they met, and he wasn’t going to let Harper stand in the way of a great date with Harper.

  When he returned at seven-o-one to pick her up, she was waiting for him. Dressed in tight jeans and a silky top, she sat on the top step of her front porch, pretty much where he’d left her earlier. Beside her sat a glass of white wine, a discarded paperback and a pair of sandals. It seemed promising she was painting her toenails what could only be described as harlot red. Definitely a positive sign.

  ‘Ready to go?’ he said, unsure of correct greeting etiquette for date slash non-date situations. Friendly cheek kiss, handshake, fist bump?

  ‘Just need to give my toes a couple of minutes to dry. Would you like a wine?’

  ‘No thanks.’ Though the thought of a quick glass of Dutch courage held a certain appeal. Harper looked stunning. Dark shiny hair hung loose, framing her face and making her brown eyes appear larger than ever. Her lips were glossy and her skin glowed. His hands itched to touch her. But the window of opportunity for the casual ‘hello’ kiss had already slammed shut.

  Luke waited while she put her belongings inside and locked the front door. A strappy purse appeared from somewhere and she tossed it over her shoulder. Carefully she edged the freshly-painted toes into delicate sandals and they walked towards his car, a sleek black BMW.

  ‘No truck?’ Harper sounded surprised.

  ‘Nope. It’s a gas guzzler. Doing my bit for the environment with this baby.’ He reached to open the car door for her, but she beat him to it, pulling the door handle and sliding into the vehicle. By the time he walked round to the driver’s seat and climbed in, Harper had her seatbelt on and was all settled.

  ‘You can’t help it, can you,’ she said.

  ‘Help what?’

  ‘Doing things for people. Opening doors, running errands, chasing around to make sure everyone’s happy.’

  ‘Not everyone, no.’ But Luke remembered the dinner reservations he’d booked and suddenly wished he hadn’t. It’d seemed a good idea at the time to book them into his friend Jay’s restaurant. He was Jay’s biggest supporter. Literally. Luke had stumped up the cash for Jay to open the restaurant, always convinced his friend was an extremely talented chef who deserved his own place. He usually loved taking people to Jay’s.

  Did he have time to tell Jay and the staff to pretend they’d never seen him before? Luke experienced a strange thud in his stomach as he turned the key in the ignition. Harper had him second guessing himself as bad as a girl. He took a deep breath, checked his side mirrors and pulled out into the tree-lined street, which was still scattered with branches after the storm.

  Luke had always thought Jay’s restaurant was the perfect destination for a romantic dinner. Classy without being formal or too stuffy, it appealed to all the senses. Fantastic scents wafting from the kitchen made Luke’s mouth water as he and Harper followed the waiter to their seats, and music playing softly from hidden speakers filled the spaces between chitchat. He slid into the cosy booth opposite Harper, waited for her to put her purse aside and get comfortable. She fidgeted, rubbing her hands up and down her jeans a couple of times before pushing them under her thighs.

  The fact that she looked nervous helped quell the faint rolling in his own gut and he relaxed into the cushioned seat.

  ‘Lucky for you I don’t take up much leg room,’ said Harper as she, too, wiggled back into the cushions. Their feet bumped under the table anyway and she quickly adjusted her position. He smiled. For a non-date, this sure felt very first-datey. He drummed his fingers thoughtfully on the table, his usual sense of ease returning as she smiled back at him.

  ‘You should smile more,’ he said.

  ‘My sister tells me I’m a grumpy cow. A party-pooper. I think she called me a complete killjoy only last week.’ Her smile shrunk and her shoulders drooped a little.

  ‘I meant it as a compliment. You have a beautiful smile. I just haven’t seen it much.’


  ‘Oh.’ Harper’s cheeks were flushed. Her hair looked even glossier in the soft lighting as she fiddled with the menu.

  Luke had another revelation as he watched her.

  He was falling for her.

  Really falling for her. As in falling in love with her. And he’d only known her a few weeks. He couldn’t even blame it on any amazing physical connection because they’d only locked lips once and that kiss had turned to shit.

  Maybe it’d been love at first sight. The thrill of her tumbling into his arms and making him feel like a hero. The attraction had been there right from the word go. He’d never pursued anyone as much as he’d pursued her.

  Yet apart from the odd glimmer of interest, there’d been no real indication whatsoever she returned his feelings. To the contrary, she’d stated repeatedly, pre-kiss, that she was too busy to go out with him, and post-kiss, that it had all been a disaster and she wasn’t interested.

  Though she’d certainly seemed interested when she’d had her hands in his hair and her tongue in his mouth.

  Where did a guy go from there?

  ***

  Halfway through the meal Harper started to relax. She hadn’t intended to and the initial process of relaxation was gradual and sneaky, her body tuning into its surroundings without her mind’s permission. First her toes, then the muscles in her legs, then the aching lower back traitorously settled into the soft and welcoming booth, lulled by the music and the deep timbre of Luke’s voice. She told herself it was because she was tired after the rigours of the day, all the while knowing she lied.

  She enjoyed Luke’s company. It wasn’t a crime to admit it, surely? He had lots to say and an entertaining way of saying it, he looked good and knew the best things to order from the menu. The perfect dinner companion.

  Harper contemplated the colour of her wine—a rich, ruby red—swirling it around the glass before taking a sip. She held it in her mouth for a beat before swallowing. The wine tasted better than her usual cheap plonk, the velvety liquid lubricating her throat, warming her insides and giving her a little buzz.

  ‘A top up?’ said Luke.

  ‘I should probably say no,’ said Harper. But then the evening would end. They’d finished their meal and the dishes had been cleared away. Most of the diners had gone from the restaurant and the staff were discreetly cleaning up across the room. ‘It is Monday …’

  ‘So it is. It’s been a bit of a weird one today.’ Luke looked towards the darkened windows, as if he could see through them. ‘Sounds like the weather’s finally settled down out there. Life should resume as normal tomorrow.’

  Suddenly the thought of her life resuming as normal seemed sucky. It also occurred to Harper that she didn’t know what Luke’s normal was; what he did when he wasn’t lounging around in the back of her classroom. ‘What’s your normal Tuesday then?’

  ‘Depends what’s going on,’ Luke said. ‘My construction company is closed until the end of the week. We always close for three weeks after Christmas, and normally I’d be away at the beach.’

  ‘At your ritzy holiday house, somewhere in the Coromandel, I suppose?’

  ‘It’s not that ritzy. But it is in the Coromandel. You should come with me some time. Do you surf?’

  ‘Surf? No. Do you?’

  ‘Yeah. Any chance I get.’ Luke’s fingers toyed idly with the stem of his wineglass. Harper’s gaze fixed on them. Long, strong fingers on squarish hands. Her gaze moved up his forearms, tanned skin roughened with dark hair. She tried to stop her gaze roving to his broad shoulders and to stop her imagination as she pictured him running up the beach in board shorts. Athletic body, sun-kissed skin. She’d thought his eyes were the colour of a moody southern lake, but tonight with the candlelight reflecting in them she could see the wild blue-grey of the sea, sunlight sparkling across it.

  A deep-buried longing, a pang in her chest, surprised her with its intensity. Surprised her, but for once didn’t terrify her. Luke reached across the table to casually lift her hand and she didn’t jerk away as she once would have, but enjoyed the caress of his fingers as he angled her wrist to look at her watch. His hand lingered, sending tiny pulses of sensation into her, each pulse a furtive reminder that something electrifying was happening between them. Whether she wanted it or not.

  She shifted in her seat, her feet colliding with Luke’s under the table. This time neither of them moved and she imagined her legs tangling with his. She could feel the hard bone of his shin, the muscled calf, the solidness of him against her own leg.

  ‘It’s ten o’clock,’ said Luke. ‘We should head off or you’ll be knackered tomorrow.’

  He was right, but she still didn’t want the evening to end. She wasn’t ready for tomorrow to come.

  ‘And if you so much as whimper about paying the bill, you’re walking home,’ he said.

  They drove back to Harper’s house in an easy silence, enjoying the soft music playing from the car’s speakers. Harper closed her eyes and let the moment wash over her. She might even have dozed off for a second, as next thing she knew Luke had pulled into her driveway, switched off the engine and was sitting back in his driver’s seat looking at her. She stared back, not sure what to do next. Not sure what he was going to do next. She knew she wanted to kiss him but didn’t know how to go about it. Should she get out of the car, invite him in, or just go for the dive-bomb lip lock right now?

  She rubbed her slightly sweaty palms up and down her jeans. Swallowed. The light-headedness might have been from the wine, but her sneaking suspicion was it had more to do with the slow smile he gave her as he reached across to push her hair back behind her ear. The light lingering touch of his finger stirred a craving, a slow burn that had been building all day.

  Harper flushed under his close scrutiny, heat spreading through her body. Her heartbeat pounded loudly in her own ears and when she swallowed again it seemed too exaggerated. Too much heat, too much saliva, too many breaths. Her body gave her away and all the while he smiled that smile. The x-ray smile that said he could see right through her. Through her clothes, her thoughts and her bullshit.

  On any other day of the year she’d have got out of the car and run as fast as she could, slamming her shabby front door behind her. Locking him out. But today everything had been different. She’d been different, and she’d liked how it felt. Who she’d been. What it had achieved.

  And she wanted to feel his lips. His hands on her. Her fingers shook ever so slightly as she reached out to gently touch the light stubble on his jaw. Acquiescence in the form of a need to touch and explore. Luke pressed a kiss into her palm and linked his fingers through hers. Her insides vibrated and her lips numbed. ‘Do you want to come in?’ she said. She held her too-loud breath.

  ‘Hell yeah,’ said Luke, his smile widening. ‘Wasn’t expecting you to ask though.’ He was out of the car leading her up the garden path in seconds and she felt his hand on the small of her back, sliding across silky fabric, as she fumbled in her bag for her key.

  Then they were inside and she wasn’t sure if she’d thrown herself at him or not, because she was already in his arms kissing as if all life on earth depended on it. Rough, unstoppable kisses drenched in greedy insistence, the shock of his mouth on hers so much better than those dreams she’d had about him. Luke was solid beneath her as he lifted her, adjusted her to fit and she found her legs wrapped around his waist, her back pressed against the wall and sensation after sensation flooding through her.

  She bit back a moan. How did I get so desperate? When had the urge to kiss and touch a man ever seemed so shatteringly important? And shatter she would, if she didn’t have him here and now.

  Or maybe not exactly here, deep in the sawdust of her incomplete home renovation. ‘Bedroom.’ She gasped into his mouth in between the drive of tongues and pull of lips.

  ‘You sure?’ Luke’s reply was rough, questioning, even as his mouth trailed a heated pathway down her throat. A token question she answered by pointing
down the hallway to her bedroom door.

  He had her through the door and they were on the bed in a scorching millisecond. Harper’s body screamed with anticipation. Desperate for him to tug off her clothes and thrust himself into her, to crush the wanting that pooled deep within and made her entire body quiver with impatience.

  But he didn’t. His hands gentled and slowed to a light stroking movement that caused her silky top to slip and slide across her stomach. This time she couldn’t stop the moan from whimpering out of her as he ran his hands across her, now sliding under the fabric to touch skin, his little finger edging in a teasing movement under the waist band of her jeans. He tortured her till she squirmed with frustration and pulled him on top of her, the crush of his hard body a victory in what seemed to Harper like a battle. Luke’s attempts to savour the moment out of sync with Harper’s need to feel the slap of skin on skin. Too far gone to want teasing, she looked deep into Luke’s eyes. Don’t make me beg.

  Understanding reflected in his face. His eyes darkened to the colour of gunmetal and his teeth bared in a carnal smile. ‘Princess, you’re full of surprises,’ he said, before his mouth crushed down to claim her in a devouring kiss.

  She knew she was as far from princess-like as anyone could possibly be, but some secret part of her appreciated the sentiment, appreciated he might see her differently from the way she viewed herself. The way he embraced her as if she was the most amazing creature on earth. The way he made her feel she could do no wrong. Her confidence grew with every touch, every kiss.

  ‘You’re beautiful,’ he said. ‘I can’t get enough of you.’ He pulled her jeans down, over her bare feet and off. She helped him along by removing her top, tossing it aside onto the floor. She lay beside him on the bed, for one second feeling the awkwardness of wearing her skimpy underwear while he was still fully clothed. A cool breeze played across her bare skin, a contrast to the blazing heat of his body. She tugged at his shirt.