Lie to Me

by Verdenius, Angela

  Oh geez. Fingers on her lips, Dee stood and listened to his heavy boots go down the stairs, the sound of the back door shutting announcing his departure. Only then did she wobble over to the table and sink into one of the chairs.

  Oh cripes, Ryder had that look in his eyes, that tone in his voice, and God, when he’d kissed her, he’d almost blown her resolve on the spot. A few more seconds of that and she’d have been putty in his hands.

  Thank God he’d left before she could disgrace herself.

  Reaching out, she cupped her hands around the mug, squeezing hard. Her thoughts whirled. Did he really feel more for her than she thought? Was there really something blossoming between them, or was it just Ryder letting his donger rule his head? For sure he’d let it rule in the past when it came to women, he’d bedded some pretty questionable sheilas, but neither had he ever lost his common sense or control.

  The tea in the mug shivered as she lifted it and took several mouthfuls, the warm liquid helping steady her nerves.

  Whatever was going to happen, it was in motion and nothing she could do was going to stop it. Ryder was a force to be reckoned with when he set his mind to something, and truthfully, did she want to stop him?

  What if he was right? What if there was something between them? On her side there was definitely love, that wasn’t in question. It was just Ryder’s feelings she didn’t trust.

  But what was he going to do to prove his feelings for her? And what if it just proved to him that he didn’t feel anything for her?

  What if it proved her right?

  “Jesus.” She dropped her forehead into her palm. “Now my brain and my arm hurt.”

  Staring at the table top, she couldn’t stop a little skitter of excitement from going through her. Man, she had to be sick to admit that she rather looked forward to seeing exactly what Ryder was going to do to prove himself to her.

  Her heart might be taking a battering, her own emotions shot to pieces right now, but there was that little part of her heart that whispered ’what if?’

  ~*~

  He’d stayed the night. Fuming, the watcher gripped the steering wheel of the car. Stayed the bloody night! And now here came the cop, nosing around the stupid broken pots. Like that was a big deal. Going right into the flat, all concerned and shit.

  Starting the ute, the watcher put it into gear. Time to tell the one who thought the sun shone out of the stupid bitch. Time to let him know what a slut she was.

  ~*~

  He’d never felt as much pain as he’d felt when he’d seen all that hurt in those beautiful eyes, the tears that made the pale blue glitter.

  Getting through the work day was hard, his mind continuously sliding back to Dee. As much as he hadn’t wanted to leave her, he knew he wasn’t getting anywhere by pushing her. Jesus, he needed to speak to someone. For the first time in his life Ryder was unsure what the hell to do, afraid he’d do the wrong thing, drive her away. It’d kill him if he did that, the last thing he wanted was to cause her anymore pain.

  But he couldn’t let her go. Not now he’d found her.

  He was leaning against the veranda post when Simon pulled up in the driveway, his motorbike rumbling powerfully in the quiet evening air. He watched as Simon flicked off the headlight, stopped the bike and kicked the stand down. He swung off the bike, his red hair sticking up when he took the helmet off. Simon raked the unruly mop down, tucking the helmet under his arm as he strode across to the veranda.

  Looking up at Ryder, he said, “Shit day, huh?”

  “Thanks for coming, man.”

  “No worries.”

  “Coming in?”

  “Kind of nice out here, actually.” Simon walked to the big cane armchair, sinking onto the cushion and putting his booted feet up on the railing.

  “Want a Coke or something?”

  “What’re you drinking?”

  “Coffee.”

  “Yeah, that’ll do me.”

  Ryder went into the kitchen, poured the hot coffee and brought it out with Jezebel right behind him. He handed the mug to Simon and dropped into the other cane armchair, propping his bare feet on the veranda railing as well.

  He watched Jezebel go into the garden and dig a hole near his mother’s prize lilies. He might not be able to see her clearly in the evening gloom, but he knew her pattern.

  “Must be just about due to drop those kittens,” Simon commented.

  “About a week, we reckon.”

  “How’s the kittening box going?”

  “It’s not.” He took a sip of coffee. “I changed the blanket, put a sheet in, but no, Her Hussiness won’t have it. Any suggestions?”

  “Lock her in the laundry.”

  “She’ll get upset.”

  “Then let her have them on your bed.”

  “Not an option.”

  “Bathroom.”

  “Too cold. Besides, I need to shower.”

  “Spare bedroom?”

  “Nope. She wants my room.”

  “Swap rooms.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Hey, you’re wanting suggestions.”

  “Yeah.” Ryder watched Jezebel walk back and climb the stairs. Little hussy wasn’t her usual lithe self. He rubbed her back with his foot as she passed his chair, rewarded by her purr.

  She looked coyly up at him, blinked and nosed his foot, scraping the side of her teeth along his big toe.

  “Holy shit!” He jumped.

  Simon chuckled. “She loves you, man.”

  Placing the mug beside the chair, Ryder carefully scooped Jezebel up with both hands and settled her on his lap. She trundled around, found a comfortable spot and started kneading.

  Shit, that was painful, her claws pricking his thighs, and he carefully eased her down until she was on her ample belly. Now he could feel one of the kittens shift, rolling in her womb, and he couldn’t stop the small smile. He wondered what colour the kittens would be and how many.

  Jezebel’s purring filled the air but she didn’t stay for long, Ryder just as carefully lifting her down when she grew restless. Once on the floor, she ambled back inside the house.

  Picking up the mug of coffee, Ryder leaned back in the chair and again propped both feet on the rail.

  “So,” Simon drawled. “Dee.”

  “I want her,” Ryder replied. “She wants me.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “She doesn’t believe I want her.”

  “Mmm.”

  “She thinks it’s too soon, that I’ll change my mind.”

  “You don’t have a good track record with dating women.”

  “Dee’s different.”

  “You sure about that?”

  Ryder scowled. “Hell yes, I’m sure.”

  “So what’s different?”

  “Oh God, is this going to turn into a sheila’s heart-to-heart? ‘Cause I’m telling you, man, I’m not into that shit.”

  “You asked me to come.”

  “To help me decide what to do.”

  Simon stroked his jaw thoughtfully. “Okay, now that’s different.”

  “No, that’s desperate.”

  “That’s different, too.”

  “Maybe getting you here wasn’t such a good idea.”

  “Nah.” Simon grinned. “It was a great idea.”

  “I’m having doubts.”

  “No, you’re having doubts about your ability to win the heart of the pretty Dee Miller.”

  “I have her heart,” Ryder pointed out smugly.

  “You have her heart but you don’t have her.”

  No arguing that. Some of the smugness faded.

  “And you want me here to tell you what to do,” Simon stated.

  “No, numb nuts, I want you here to tell you what I’m planning on doing.”

  “Oh.”

  “Then you’re going to tell me if you think it’ll work.”

  “You are doubting yourself.”

  “Look, this is Dee. She’s different to the ot
her sheilas.”

  “That’s obvious.”

  Ryder glanced at him.

  “As in, you’ve never gone to this much effort with any other female.”

  “Like I said, Dee’s different.”

  Idly twirling the mug of coffee in his hand, Simon looked out over the garden. “Are you serious about this, Ryder?”

  Ryder looked at him in astonishment. “What the hell kind of question is that?”

  “A perfectly reasonable one. Are you?”

  “Hell yes! I repeat, what kind of crap question is that?”

  “A perfectly reasonable one.”

  “Keep saying that and I’ll kick your arse with a perfectly reasonable motive.”

  Lazily, Simon grinned and took a swallow of coffee.

  Ryder relaxed back against the chair. “So I’m thinking how I can make her trust me.”

  “Mate, she trusts you with her life.”

  “With her heart, then.” Ryder dropped his head back against the chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jesus, I can’t believe I just said that.” He swung his finger in Simon’s direction. “You ever tell Scott and Kirk I said that, I will make you cry for your mummy.”

  Simon just smiled.

  Ryder would have been worried except he knew his friend kept his mouth shut when it came to confidences.

  “It’s just trying to figure out how to convince her,” he continued. “I thought flowers, dates, chocolates. Old fashioned.”

  “That’ll be new for you. Normally you just snap your fingers and the women are ripping both yours and their clothes off.”

  “What can I say? I’m hot.” Ryder slapped his forehead. “Okay, I gotta stop saying those things in Dee’s hearing.”

  “What else are you thinking of stopping doing in front of Dee?”

  “Sexual innuendos.”

  “That’ll cramp your brain.”

  “References to how hot I am.”

  “That’ll cramp your self esteem.”

  “Look, I’m trying to make her see me as the kind of man she’d trust her heart to. I’m trying to prove to her that I won’t hurt her, that I care.”

  “Just care?”

  Ryder pursed his lips.

  “Just care?” Simon mused. “Just care. Interesting. You just care for Dee.”

  Shit. Put like that, it sounded wrong. Ryder gritted his teeth.

  “Just care.” Simon slid a look at him. “Did you tell Dee you ‘just care’?” He made air quotes.

  “No, I bloody didn’t.” Ryder cursed. “You arsehole.”

  “How can you expect a woman to give you her heart when you ‘just care’?” More air quotes.

  Annoyed, because when Simon said it like that it didn’t just sound wrong, it sounded bloody awful, Ryder growled. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “So what do you mean?”

  “It’s pretty damned obvious.”

  “You think?”

  “Goddamn it, what do you want me to say?”

  “The truth,” Simon replied quietly. “If you can’t even be honest with yourself, Ryder, how can you be honest to her about your feelings? How can she trust her heart to you if you can’t even tell yourself how you really feel?”

  Shit. “It’s just a word.”

  “A word that means so much.”

  “Oh, for-”

  “Are you scared?”

  “Hell no, I’m not scared.” Ryder took a fortifying gulp of coffee. “I’m scared of nothing.”

  “Except one word.”

  About to give a sharp retort, Ryder stopped then slowly closed his mouth again. Lips tight, he stared out into the night-darkened garden.

  Damn it, he wasn’t good with emotions and shit like that. He’d never had to tell a woman a lie just to get her into his bed. Never had to promise them everything, never had to put himself out much at all, not when he had so many pretty women of all shapes and sizes just waiting to fall into his arms and into his bed. He’d never had to do much than give them a bawdy wink and wicked grin, be his usual charming self with a whole lot of lusty honesty and openly sexual intentions, flirt and dance, laugh and seduce - and even that without much effort - and he had a woman in his bed more often than not. He had sex because he liked it, dated because he enjoyed a woman’s company, danced because he liked dancing, was friendly because that was his nature.

  “Shit.” He rubbed his eyes.

  Simon just kept sipping at his coffee.

  “Look, how can I be like that with Dee? She’ll think I’m treating her like the other women.”

  “Ryder, you idiot, if you don’t act like yourself around her, she’ll know it’s a pretence. How do you think that’ll go with her?”

  “I can’t treat her like the others. She’s not like the others.”

  “Dee knows you. Be yourself.”

  “Like that’s done the job so far.” Grumpily, Ryder slouched lower in the chair.

  “It’s done the job just fine. She loves you, you already have her heart. She just needs to know that you have the staying power.”

  ‘Staying power? Man, in the sack I can go for hours.”

  “Oh my God, I think my ear drums just burst.”

  “You mentioned the staying power.”

  “You have sex on the brain.”

  “She knows that, too. Can I point out that in the sack she can’t fault me?”

  “Your humbleness is admirable.”

  “I’m just saying.”

  “The staying power I’m talking about, dickhead, is you being there all the time.”

  “I don’t think she’ll let me move in yet.” Ryder laughed when Simon groaned.

  Man, he couldn’t help stirring up his laid-back friend now and again regardless of the circumstances. It sure helped Ryder relax a little. Growing serious once more, he added, “So you reckon I should be myself, do what I’d normally do?”

  “Yeah,” Simon agreed. “But there’s a difference.”

  Ryder might be a little clueless when it came to winning a woman’s heart forever, but he wasn’t that dumb that he didn’t get what his friend was saying. “Because I’m doing it with Dee.”

  “Exactly. What you do with others isn’t the same. You don’t do it with the same heart.”

  “Listen to the wise old owl.” Ryder grinned at Simon to find him staring out into the darkness.

  For the first time since he’d met him, there was a slight sadness in Simon’s face, a barely discernable melancholy. It was surprising and a little disturbing. “Mate, you all right?”

  The lazy smile was back on Simon’s face, the melancholy disappearing instantly as though it had never appeared. “Sure. I’m not the one tied up in knots.”

  Dropping his feet from the rail, Ryder leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “Is something wrong?”

  “Not at all.” Simon drained the last of the coffee. “That was good. So, your plan is to be yourself.”

  Taking the hint, Ryder stopped probing and nodded. “Plan done. Sorted.”

  “So not a plan, just you being yourself and proving to Dee that you more than ‘just care’ for her.” Air quotes.

  “Yeah.”

  “She’s more than ‘just Dee’.” Air quotes.

  “Stop that or I’ll break your fingers.

  Simon didn’t bat an eyelid. “And you love her.”

  “You just had to slip that word in, didn’t you?”

  “What? And?”

  “Love. You had to do it.”

  “Well, shit, man, you weren’t.”

  Ryder flipped him the bird.

  Laughing, Simon dropped his booted feet to the veranda floor and stood, stretching indolently.

  “Want another cuppa?” Ryder queried.

  “Nah, I better make tracks. Work tomorrow.” Simon picked up the motorbike helmet. “DVD night next Friday at my place, don’t forget. Scott and Ash are on the dinner run, Kirk and Molly the DVD run.”

  “I’ll be there.” Ry
der grinned as he stood. “Make sure no one sits between me and Dee.”

  “Jesus, I’m not your love helper.”

  They both paused.

  “You know how wrong that sounds on so many different levels, right?” Ryder asked.

  “I get it.”

  “If I swung that way, your red hair might turn me on, the freckles, even your reading glasses. However, I’m into the sheilas.”

  “Your inability to say the word ‘love’ would turn me off anyway.”

  Ryder flipped him two fingers.

  “Oh yeah, because that really hurts.” Grinning, Simon sauntered down the steps. “Righto, I’ll see you tomorrow sometime.”

  Gathering the mugs, Ryder went inside, rinsing them out in the sink before turning off the lights and heading for bed.

  He looked at Jezebel sprawled out near his pillow. The doona was scruffed up on his side. Jezebel fluttered her eyelashes at him.

  “Don’t you even think it.” He pointed a finger at her. “You’ve actually gone from the centre of the bed to my side. We’re setting boundaries, girl, right now. That,” he pointed to the empty kittening box next to the wall, “is for you. This,” he pointed to the bed, “is for me. Understand?”

  With a little sigh, she dropped her head onto the bed.

  “Don’t play the long-suffering sheila with me.” Crossing to the bed, he picked her up carefully and carried her to the box, gently placing her into it and stroking her head. “Your birthing box. This is where you go when those furry little parasites inside you decide to come out. You have them in here, not on my bed, never mind my side of it.” He gave her an encouraging pat. “See? It’s not too bad, right? I changed the blanket for a sheet, and now you have a throw rug Mum knitted for me years ago. She’d have a fit if she saw you lying on it in the birthing box, but hey, desperate times call for desperate measures.” A thought struck him. “Jesus, you and Dee. I’m trying to keep you both happy. This is enough to do any red-blooded man’s head in.”

  Jezebel sniffed the throw rug, kneaded it a little and looked sadly up at him.

  Hardening his heart, he straightened. “Don’t look at me like that. This is for your own good and my sanity. It’s only for a short time, Jez.”

  Feeling like a real shit, he stripped his clothes off and slung them over a chair. Folding the doona back, he slid between the sheets and turned off the bedside lamp.

  Rolling onto his side, he closed his eyes. Right, he had a plan to win Dee, he just had to have the patience. It would all work out. It had to. He couldn’t contemplate a future without her, he just wouldn’t, it wasn’t in his plan. True, he’d never really thought of a future without Dee in it somewhere, she was apart of his life, she was his friend, they’d always had a connection, but now he wanted more than just friendship. He wanted her in his life, in his bed, in his house. Cooking in his kitchen, snuggling up to him on the sofa.