Lie to Me

by Verdenius, Angela

  Holding her shoes, Dee glanced towards the phone. “Look, I’ll just give Dad a ring, he can pick me up and take me home. He-”

  “What?” Ryder stood. “No. I’m taking you home.”

  “Look, it’s no problem-”

  “Dee.” He frowned down at her. “No arguments.”

  Her eyes narrowed, the paleness of her blue eyes startling when framed with those thick, black eyelashes. “You’re getting awfully bossy in your old age.”

  “Only way to deal with you, trust me.”

  She started limping from the room. “Don’t know why you bother with me then.”

  He grinned. “Because I need a sparring partner to keep me alert for when shit really happens.”

  “Huh.”

  Picking up the bowl of red-tinted water, he crossed to the sink. “Let me just clean this up.” Seeing her start towards the table with the obvious intention of helping, he added, “Just stay there.”

  “Don’t want me touching your precious stuff?”

  “Bugger me, you are prickly today.” He emptied the bowl, rinsed and set it on the draining board. “That time of the month?”

  Just as he’d planned, she rose to that particular bait like a shark. “You are such an arse!”

  “Apparently so.” God, he loved teasing her, seeing the fire in her eyes. “You tell me so frequently.”

  Before she could do more than open her mouth to give him a volley of venom, the phone rang. They both looked at it.

  “You going to answer that?” Dee asked finally.

  “Nope.”

  “It could be your job.”

  “They have my mobile number.”

  “Maybe it’s another bimbo chasing you.”

  Amused, he shrugged.

  The answering machine kicked in, a sultry voice purring out. “Hi, Ryder. It’s Rachel. I hear you’re free tonight. How about we get a bottle of wine and-”

  Rachel Winters? Hot, luscious, Rachel Winters? Delighted, Ryder grabbed the phone. “Hey, Rach. I’m here.”

  Dee sighed.

  He threw her a wink.

  “So how about it?” Rachel’s voice was low, seductive. “Drinks?”

  The woman was as seductive as her va-va-voom figure. “Sounds like a plan.”

  “What time will you pick me up?”

  He glanced at the clock. “I’m just finishing up some stuff here. How about six o’clock?”

  “I look forward to it.” She paused. “Bring condoms.” She hung up.

  Bet your sweet little arse. Grinning, he hung up the phone. “That was Rachel-” Realising that Dee was no longer in the room, he called, “Dee?” When there was no answer except the sound of the front door shutting, he strode out into the hallway, opening the door to see her limping down the steps. “Where are you going?”

  “You’ve a date.” Turning, she looked up at him, her tennis shoes dangling from one hand by their laces. “I’m some of the stuff keeping you from getting ready.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Crossing the veranda, he stopped at the top of the steps and folded his arms. “You’re not stuff.”

  “Then what am I?”

  “You’re just Dee.”

  She looked up at him in silence for so long that he actually glanced behind him and then down to check that nothing was wrong before looking back at her again.

  “Yeah,” she said, strangely quiet, as though all fire had gone from her. “Yeah, I am, aren’t I?”

  Uh-oh, he was missing something. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, Ryder. Absolutely nothing.” She smiled suddenly, turning carefully on her heel to limp across to the car. “Take me home, Romeo. You’ve got a sheila to get drunk and into bed.”

  Indignantly, he dropped his arms to his side. “Hey, I don’t need to get women drunk to sleep with me.”

  “Whatever.” She waved one hand in the air. “Let’s go. I don’t want to keep your pecker waiting.”

  Cripes, the woman blew hot and cold. One minute Ryder wanted to hug her, the next smack her. He’d never understand her.

  She was unusually silent on the drive back, weirdly subdued when she got out at the back of her shop. Ryder frowned as he watched her go inside, the door shutting behind her.

  Dee Miller was one complex sheila.

  ~*~

  “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” Dee looked around the pub.

  “You looked so miserable, I had to do something,” Del replied.

  “I didn’t.”

  “I walked into your place, got one look at your face, saw your chin dragging on the ground and I knew.”

  “It’s the scrapes. They hurt.”

  “I don’t think they’re the only thing that hurts.”

  Dee shot her cousin a narrow-eyed look.

  “You know, you could just tell h-”

  “Are you getting those drinks or not?”

  Del sighed. “Sure. Whatever.” Getting up, she crossed to the bar on the other side of the room.

  Leaning back in the booth, Dee fiddled with the drink coaster in front of her. Was it any wonder she’d been miserable? One minute Ryder was tending to her wounds, his warmth and nearness doing funny things to her insides, and the next thing he was on the phone chatting up the latest chick he intended to nail that very night.

  And she was ‘just Dee’. Didn’t that just make her feel great.

  An actual lump rose in her throat. Jesus, she had to get a grip. She’d known Ryder wasn’t interested in her, would never be. She wasn’t, as he put it, ‘like his women’. No, she was sharp-tongued, had blatant toilet humour, a sometimes foul mouth, a quick temper, and was as far from the pretty, sultry women he dated as a hippo was to a gazelle. She was worse when she was with him.

  Defence mode. It made her just sound even suckier.

  She couldn’t help it, in her mind’s eye she could see the beautiful, dark-haired Rachel in his arms, his hands that had tended to Dee’s wounds so expertly, equally as expertly removing Rachel’s bra. And panties. And roaming over her skin, the lucky tramp.

  Damn it. It was something that would never happen to her. Once she had hoped, had dreamed, had it shatter. It was time she realised it, time she took a stand.

  “Hey,” a voice greeted her.

  Looking up, she was surprised to see the tall, lean, brown-haired man standing by her table. His jeans were ripped, his t-shirt, while it seemed clean, had old oil stains on it, and his boots were well-worn.

  What the hell was Jason Dawson doing standing by her table? Not to mention looking a little uneasy?

  “Hey,” she replied, for want of anything else to say.

  He looked at her, glanced away, glanced back. “You okay?”

  “Um…sure.” She slipped her hand holding the coaster beneath the table, hiding the fact that she’d started shredding it in her morose state.

  “Okay.” He started to move away, hesitated, stopped and looked down at her again. “You here alone?”

  Wondering at his questions, she shook her head. “Del’s getting us some drinks.”

  “Oh.” He nodded. “Right.” His gaze dropped to where her hands were beneath the table. “Heard you took a spinner off your pushbike.”

  “Oh, yeah. Gravel, you know. It’s a bitch sometimes.”

  His understanding grin was fleeting, barely there on his usually grim face. “Yeah, it is. Kissed it a few times myself.”

  She smiled back. “Guess we both survived.”

  “So far.” About to say something further, he stopped. “Better get going.”

  “Okay. Nice to see you.” Stranger to talk to you, we usually exchange grunts.

  She couldn’t help but watch as he disappeared into the crowd.

  “Holy crap, Dee, are you hitting on a Dawson?” Del dropped onto the bench seat opposite, placing Dee’s Diet Coke on the table. “They’re trouble. How much do you want to court of it?”

  “Not courting anything else, am I? Besides, he just stoppe
d to say hello.”

  “Jason being friendly?” Del frowned. “That man and his equally no-good brother are up to something, no doubt about it.”

  “Because he was nice to me?” Dee took a sip of the Diet Coke. “Oh right, because that’d be the only reason a bloke would be nice to me.”

  “Cripes, you’re a bundle of laughs tonight.”

  “Hey, you knew my mood when you asked me out.”

  “Don’t say it like it’s a date.”

  Dee leered. “Kissing cousins.”

  “Not bloody likely.” Del glanced around. “Should have come last night. Sunday night is always quieter.”

  “That’s because all the attached crew are home, snug in bed, shagging away before they go to sleep and get up for work in the morning.”

  “True.” Del trailed her fingertips up and down her glass drink. “So, Ryder patched you up, huh?”

  “Yep.” Not wanting to talk about him, Dee studied her cousin. “So, met anyone?”

  “Between yesterday morning and tonight?”

  “It’s just a polite question.”

  “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

  “That could just be loyalty.”

  “Good God, can your mood get any lower.”

  Dee exhaled. “Sorry. You’re right.”

  “I’m always right.” Concern in her eyes, Del leaned forward. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Yeah, stop looking so worried. It’s making my stomach churn.”

  “Don’t be a bitch.”

  “Ryder says I’m bitchy all the time.”

  “He’s a dumb arse.”

  “Isn’t that my line?”

  “Yeah, but I can borrow it any time I want.”

  They both laughed. Somehow it didn’t make Dee feel any better.

  She felt even less so when she spotted a tall, muscular man entering the pub with his hand at the back of a stunning, black-haired woman. Ushering Rachel inside the pub was Ryder.

  Crap on a stick.

  Del followed her gaze, a small frown creasing her forehead. “Oh shit. I thought Rachel was going to buy a bottle of wine and seduce Ryder at home.”

  Dee’s gaze shot accusingly to her. “You knew?”

  “Oops.” Her cousin blushed guiltily.

  “Is that why you got me to come here instead of staying home? Because you thought they wouldn’t be?”

  Sheepishly, Del nodded.

  Taking a deep breath, Dee fixed a smile on her face. It probably looked as bad she felt, but she was damn well going to smile her way through. “It doesn’t matter, Del. They’re here, we’re here, so what?”

  “Um…”

  “Who Ryder dates is his own business, got it? I don’t care.” Dee drained the glass of Diet Coke.

  Del sighed. “I’m so sorry, Dee.”

  “For what?” She managed a laugh. “Come on, we’re single, the night is young, let’s see if we can get you hooked up.”

  “Me?” Del’s eyebrow rose. “What about you?”

  “Sure, why not?” Dee picked up her glass “I’m just going for a refill.”

  Music started to pound from the small dance floor at the end of the pub, several couples getting up to enjoy themselves.

  And wouldn’t you bloody know it, Ryder was being led up there by a laughing Rachel. She was laughing up at him over her shoulder, all sweet and seductive, like sex on two legs with a skirt so short her twat was almost on display.

  Shit, Ryder looked like sex on two legs. So tall, so muscular, so sinfully handsome, his dark blue eyes dancing with enjoyment, his deep laugh rolling out.

  It was just another gouge in her heart when he swung Rachel into his arms and danced with her onto the dance floor, holding her so close, his hand resting just above the slight swell of her trim bottom.

  No doubt at all that his hand would slowly trailer lower until he had a handful of trim arse.

  Very different from her arse, and very different to what he’d do with her.

  Jesus. Maybe she should just go home. This was pure bloody torture. But Del was watching her, she could practically feel her gaze boring into the back of her head.

  Her cousin was sweet, concerned, and bordering on saying what was on her mind. That wasn’t good. No one was to interfere, she didn’t want anyone giving her advice. She must be doing a poor job of hiding her feelings lately, a really poor job if Del was probing at the edges of the forbidden discussion.

  If Del knew what had happened, what nobody else knew, then…well, hell, it wouldn’t make any difference except to maybe make her cousin pity her more. Not happening.

  Placing the glass on the bar, she waited for the barmaid. Damn sure she didn’t feel like a drink.

  “Hello,” a deep voice said, and another tall, broad-shouldered man slid onto the barstool next to her.

  Red hair, laughing hazel eyes. The town’s other eligible bachelor, the light-hearted, easy-going fireman.

  “Simon.” Genuinely glad to see him, she smiled.

  “Here alone?” He studied her.

  “Del.” She jerked her thumb in the general direction she’d left her cousin.

  “Huh.” Simon raised both eyebrows. “I thought she had a date.”

  “Just us, why?”

  “No reason.” He smiled lazily.

  Dee’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. He wouldn’t have asked if… Looking back at the table, she sighed. That hadn’t taken long. Farris, one of the local farm hands, was sitting in the booth opposite Del, chatting away and looking incredibly hopeful. Del was laughing but she cast Dee a reassuring glance and smile. No doubt Farris had asked her about something, or to do something. Dee knew what when Farris gestured to the dance floor and Del shook her head.

  Ah crap, Del loved dancing. There was no need for her to miss out just because she felt loyalty to her cousin.

  Catching her eye, Dee pointed to Simon, gave Del the thumbs up. Del shook her head, Dee nodded hers, Del hesitated, Farris looked even more hopeful, sent Dee a friendly wave, Dee flapped her hands at him in a ‘go on’ motion, and he dragged Del from the bench chair. Del looked at Dee, Dee gave her the thumbs up again and a big smile, mouthing ‘it’s just a dance’.

  Farris needed no second bidding, happily dragging Del to the dance floor where he whirled her around. Within seconds she was laughing.

  At least one of them was enjoying herself.

  Dee looked to where Ryder held Rachel close. Well, three of them. Not to mention the other couples.

  Well, crap, maybe it was just her not enjoying herself and everyone else was having a bloody ball.

  Schooling her features, she turned back to see the barmaid approaching.

  Simon smiled at her. “G’day, Beth.”

  “G’day yourself, handsome.” She winked at him. “What’ll it be, Dee?”

  “I’m right here,” Dee replied dryly.

  “I know, sweetie, but you have to admit that Simon is a whole lot better to look at.”

  He grinned. “Why, thank you, sweetheart.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “My pleasure would be another Diet Coke,” Dee said. “But don’t do your job on my account. I’d hate to get in the way of true lust.”

  “Glad you see it my way.” With a wink, Beth took her glass and put it in the sink, turning away to get another Diet Coke.

  “Heard you came a cropper.” Simon looked at Dee’s arm.

  “Everyone seems to be hearing it. Must be the news of the week.”

  “Must be. Don’t worry, someone else will be the topic next week.”

  “Big news. ‘Dee Comes a Cropper. Everyone Cheers’.”

  Simon’s gaze lifted to her face. “Sounds a little bitter.”

  “I’m just in a bad mood.” Dee nodded her thanks when Beth slid her glass across the bar. “Or worse than normal, take your pick.”

  “My shout.” Before she could get money from her bag, Simon slid a twenty across the bar. “I’ll have a Coke, Beth, thanks.


  Dee frowned. “I can pay for it.”

  “Don’t sweat it. You can pay the next round.”

  “Promise? ‘Cause that’s what you said last time and we never did the rounds.”

  “Sure.”

  “Okay, then.” Dee hopped up onto the bar stool, settling in to hold up the bar while her cousin danced.

  Keeping company with Simon wasn’t a bad thing. She liked the easy-going Firie, had done so since Scott had introduced him when they’d both come back from the big fire stations in the city to join Gully’s Fall Fire Brigade.

  Simon was laid-back, happy, even-tempered, handsome, and with a bottomless stomach that had him snacking all the time, and not just what most people regarded as little snacks. To him, a sandwich chased down by an iced coffee and topped off with a Chiko Roll was a little snack. How the man kept such a mouth-watering physique was anyone’s guess, though Dee suspected good genes and a liking for gym equipment, especially since Firies were expected to keep in shape.

  “Nice to see you smiling.” Simon took a sip of his light beer.

  “I’m always smiling.”

  “Are you?”

  The question had Dee glancing sideways to find him gazing serenely at his icy glass.

  Simon was so laid-back that he was almost horizontal, and that made him a little dangerous because people tended to forget that behind that big appetite and lazy humour was a mind like a steel trap. He missed nothing. Sometimes it was hard to know what he was thinking behind that contented façade, but she’d seen the sharpness that could suddenly harden his hazel eyes, the way he assessed a situation or person, and he was rarely wrong.

  That same intuition had her fingers picking at the coaster. “Of course.”

  “You want to talk about anything?”

  “Sure. I’m PMSing. How about you?”

  “Not that kind of talk.”

  She grinned. “Oh, come on, you know you want to.”

  “Not even a little bit.” He paused.

  She looked into the mirror behind the bar to find him scrutinizing her, something that made her a little uneasy.

  “Heard you gave Yvonne a revving today.”

  “You hear a lot.” She took a mouthful of Diet Coke.

  “Heard she and Jaci are no longer friends.”