by Blobel, Iris
He raked his hand through his hair before heading back into the lounge room. He collapsed onto the sofa and relished having his arms away from the crutches. Tamara helped him put his leg up on the cushions again.
He looked up at her. “Thanks,” he said. “Anyway, you haven’t answered me, yet.”
He watched her step back to the chair and sit down. She met his gaze with a small smile. With a deep sigh, she leaned back and turned to look out of the window.
“My husband died last year in hospital,” she finally said, barely audible. “We got robbed. Coming home earlier than planned, we ran right into them.”
Oliver studied her face closely. Erik had already told him about her husband’s death, but he was still unsure why she was so apprehensive when he was around. Not to mention her behaviour in the hospital. He stared at her, soaking up every word she fed him. His body was relaxed from the pain killers, yet his chest was tight from the thought of her loss.
“They beat up Jason, and he never regained consciousness after that.” She paused to look at him. “It was silly what I said today, and I apologise. I overreacted.”
Oliver was quiet for a moment, trying to absorb her words. He struggled to figure out how to respond. A plethora of feelings bombarded him, all fighting for his attention—disbelief, confusion, hurt, but above all, anger against the people that had not only invaded her life, but so cruelly changed it for good.
Her gaze turned away from him, and she stared into the distance. His heart was heavy at the thought of how much she must have suffered over the last twelve months.
He cursed his handicap and would have given anything to just take her into his arms to make her feel safe. Even if it was just for a moment. Her gaze darted back to him, her green eyes filled with tears.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said, feeling stupid for not being able to say something more substantial.
Tamara lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug. “It’s okay.” With another heavy sigh, she stood and added, “Well, I suppose it’s eating humble pie for you and call the nice lady from before.” She leaned forward to get her purse. “Because I won’t be looking after you for the next few weeks.”
Ignoring the pain in his leg, he made a dash forward to grab her wrist. Gently, he pulled her next to him. His mouth inches from her ear, he murmured, "Believe me, if I knew how, I’d make your pain go away.”
His gaze travelled over her face as he tried to read her expression. It wasn’t only her looks that attracted him. There was something else about her. Possibly the way she’d opened up to him a minute earlier. Or the way she’d cared for him in the hospital. Still holding her wrist, he couldn’t help but notice her pulse beating fast. Then, without losing eye contact, he moved his hand up her arm to cup her face and traced a line along her chin with his thumb.
A surge of electricity blasted through him as his lips touched hers. Something so intense, his gaze travelled back to her face, searching for a reaction.
She jerked, yet it was the reaction to the sound of the doorbell.
“Ignore it,” he said against her skin.
She moved back and placed her hand over her eyes. Oliver peeled her hands away, but she turned her head away from him.
“Don’t kiss me again,” she begged softly as she stood. “I’m not a challenge, but a person, and I won’t be one of your trophy girls you’ve bedded. I’m such an idiot to come here and check whether you’re okay, let alone explain my behaviour. It’s obvious you’re back to your old games.”
He cursed under his breath as he watched her walk out of the room. The choice of words had been wrong. And yes, inappropriate as well. She wasn’t a challenge, but intriguing. Now that he knew why she was holding back, he wanted to make her feel better. He knew exactly what it felt like to lose.
Still not believing that he’d kissed her, he rested his head back onto the pillow. Closing his eyes, he remembered her soft, sweet kiss. Her mouth that had tasted mildly minty, and the way her tongue had played with his. Christ, simply the thought of the short kiss got his heart racing. Not to mention what it did to the rest of his body.
He wanted her. She was sexy and beautiful, but she was smart as well. Yes, he wanted her.
But was it fair to her?
Erik was right. Nothing good could come out of a relationship between them. His mind went back to her words retelling the story about the burglary. The thought of burglars touching her made him feel like he’d taken a knife to his chest.
How could he have kissed her after she’d told him about her late husband? He was such an idiot. An inconsiderate idiot. He’d have to find a way to apologise and stick to his coach’s request: she was off limits.
Yet, now that he had kissed her, how could he ever forget the taste of her lips?
***
Tamara wasn’t startled by the sound of the doorbell, but her body’s reaction to Oliver’s kiss. So much so that she quickly grabbed her bag and stood.
That’s when the doorbell chimed again.
A surge of anger rippled through her. Anger towards herself for letting herself go like that, and anger towards Oliver, for taking advantage of the brief moment when she’d opened up to him.
The heels of her shoes echoed her aggravation as she paced the wooden floor to the front. She opened the door with such force that she was taken aback for a moment when she saw her uncle.
With a raised eyebrow, he said, “Tammy?”
She stood straight and met his gaze, trying hard not to let the tears escape. “Leaving. He’s all yours.”
Without any explanation, she rushed past him. As soon as she was in the car, she took in a couple of deep breaths. Her head hurt from being dizzy. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling. There was guilt towards Jason. Above all, though, she was annoyed with Oliver for telling everyone she’d look after him. And to top it off, he had the audacity to kiss her during a moment when she was vulnerable. In all fairness, she was less shocked that he’d had the cheek to kiss her than the fact she hadn’t put up any resistance. For that brief instant when their tongues had met, she’d surrendered to him completely.
Tamara turned the rear-view mirror to look at herself. Letting out a breath she’d been holding, she saw her red eyes and blotchy face. Absentmindedly, she touched her lips with her finger and remembered Oliver’s kiss. Heat pooled low in her body. Closing her eyes, she relived that moment in each little detail. The sensation and the taste of him still lingered on her lips.
She shook her head, knowing she should’ve pulled back. She should not have let him kiss her. Her plan had been to move to Melbourne and get back on track with her life.
Yet deep inside, she was still grieving for her husband. Silly as it might have seemed to others, she felt unfaithful to Jason. She’d loved him dearly, so how could kissing Oliver have so much effect on her? Her body was still tingling from his touch. The way his lips had captured hers.
In those few minutes, she’d felt alive again.
Shaking off all the emotions, she reminded herself it would be better for everyone involved not to like Oliver. All she’d wanted was to check on him and explain her behaviour at the hospital. That was all. No gazing into each other’s eyes. No touching. And most certainly no kissing.
But who was she kidding? She’d watched him on the field, his tight muscles contoured to his shirt as he pitched for hours, full of determination.
Yes, he could be trouble. She knew that. It was obvious to her the way the girls in the office talked about him, or even stared at him when he occasionally dropped in. He was a born charmer and knew how to use his charm…not to mention his sense of humour. No wonder women adored him.
But damned if she was his challenge. Tamara had no time for this nonsense and would ignore him from now on.
***
Oliver heard Coach Becker’s voice and looked towards the doorway. The last thing he wanted to do after Tamara’s quick exit was talk to her uncle.
“How are you?” Erik Becker
asked.
Oliver slowly raised his eyebrows and nodded towards his leg.
“I heard,” his coach said as he sat on the seat which Tamara had occupied only a few minutes earlier.
Oliver needed to look away from his coach. He’d told Oliver from the start that she’d been off limits, and he still hadn’t been able to resist.
“Tamara left a bit in a huff. What did you do?”
Oliver shrugged as casually as possible, although the obvious accusation pissed him off.
“I told ya—”
Oliver sat up and tried to get comfortable. “She’s off limits. Spare me. It’s a broken record by now I’ve had to listen to it so often.”
Erik leaned back into the seat. “She’s been through hell and back since she lost her husband last year. I need you to stay away from her.”
That really got his back up. Trying to sit up straight as possible, he glared at his coach. “No disrespect here, Coach, but fuck off. May I remind you it was you who sent her with me to the hospital? She was kind enough to come for a quick visit to check how I was. It shows a lot about her good manners and her upbringing, don’t you think?”
Erik held his glare, his jaw tight with obvious frustration. “Why did she leave in such a huff?” he asked through gritted teeth.
Oliver slouched back into the couch again.
“Oliver?”
“Ty’s grandma was here, about to move in for two weeks to care for me. I told her a fib saying Tamara had already agreed to do just that.” He let out a long sigh, before he continued. “How was I supposed to know she was going to turn up on the doorstep? Hazel thanked her, and she was a bit flustered. Kind of took it the wrong way.” Oliver shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not really sure why.”
His coach was quiet for a moment.
“She was very upset after taking you to the hospital. My fault, and I apologise,” Erik finally said.
With a nod, Oliver replied, “She told me about Jason.”
Erik looked at him.
With a shrug Oliver explained, “I told you, there was a moment or two at the hospital. I have a feeling she came to explain.”
“She’s a great girl—” He hesitated. “But not for you.”
Oliver moved on the couch to find a more comfortable position. “For Christ’s sake. I get it, okay?”
“Mate, you’re both fighting demons from the past, but you each do it in different ways. Since the car accident, when Erin died, you’ve consumed women. Once you’re getting too close, you leave, scared you could hurt them as well.”
Erin!
Everything inside Oliver stilled. His lungs constricted, and his heartbeat became erratic.
“Get out,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Oliver!”
“Leave,” he repeated as he reached for his crutches to stand up. He felt nauseous, needed some water.
There was no reason to remind him of his stupidity years earlier when he’d driven his car into a tree after an unnecessary overtaking manoeuvre. One miscalculation, an error in judgment as he’d sped down a hill that had left his mother without useful legs, spending her life in a wheelchair now.
And Erin, his girlfriend at the time, had died instantly.
Life for him had been hell since. The first few visits to his mother after the accident, he’d cried every time he’d seen her, not sure what to feel, or how to act. She’d accepted her predicament with so much dignity, determined to adjust to a life in a wheelchair.
Meeting Erin’s family had been his lowest point in life. He’d avoided talking to them at the funeral, uncomfortable with himself. Uncomfortable with the situation. He hated himself for having been such a coward.
His friends had been his steady rock. Without them, he wouldn’t have made it through. Tyson and Markus had temporarily moved in to keep him from reaching for the bottle.
The other rock had been his coach. He’d been the one he’d been able to rely on, the one who listened when he had to vent or make decisions. But most of all, he’d been there for him to guide him through those difficult times.
Closing his eyes, Oliver thought about Erik’s words. Had he been keeping women at arm’s length? He’d thought he could bury some of his hurt while with them, but instead his pain grew and he’d moved on.
He didn’t want to hurt as well, or start something he’d definitely regret later on.
Chapter Four
The next morning, Tamara woke with her body soaked in sweat and hair sticking to her face. The clock on her bedside table read it was nearly five in the morning. She groaned as she untangled herself from the sheets. Sitting up, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, but instantly stilled when the pain behind her eyes intensified so much she could barely move without being overcome by nausea. Her hand trembled as she reached for the glass of water next to her bed.
As she sipped, the thought of going back to Perth to be with her parents crossed her mind, but she knew better. She had to make an effort to move past her old life. At twenty-eight years of age, she shouldn’t be running back to her parents every time the going got tough. She’d been raised to fight for what she wanted. Fifteen years ago, it’d been Jason, when they’d met at school. Ten years ago, that had been a place at Uni to study Business.
Her body was still shaking from her fear she experienced in her dream.
It was her recurring dream of seeing Jason beaten to death, with her standing next to him unable to help. The memory of his lifeless body on the floor brought tears to her eyes. She had another sip.
Her throat was still scratchy and dry as she walked into her bathroom. Turning on the water, she stepped into the shower and let it run over her head. The water cascaded down her body in a soothing massage. The headache eased and she relaxed. Tamara let her mind wander off to a holiday she’d spent with Jason south of Perth. They had enjoyed watching the marine life, but mainly the pods of wild dolphins. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she recalled Jason at his first wine tasting, not knowing the procedures. It’d been a day full of laughter and love.
As she turned off the water and wrapped herself in a towel, she remembered when she’d strained her knee during a netball game. Jason had gone out of his way to look after her. And so had her friends. The same friends who had stood in front of her door, wanting to help after Jason had passed away. She’d been overwhelmed by their generosity and kindness. Their friendship had given her strength to make it through the weeks after the funeral.
With a sigh, she walked back into her bedroom and reached for her phone.
I’ll bring lunch let me know if u need anything from the shops but dont get used 2 this service!
Without the chance to think twice about it, she hit the send button, and it was on its way to Oliver. The bottom line was he needed help. She was most certain his friends were there for him and helped out, but after all, they did expect her to be the one to care for him. There had to be a way to assist without looking into his eyes or kissing him again.
Letting out a long breath, Tamara sat on the bed. Why on earth had she kissed him?
***
Oliver checked his messages, and a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Who would’ve thought?
He moved in his bed to look out the window. A familiar ache settled in his chest, and his smile faded. The ache of losing someone. He hadn’t thought that much about the accident in years. Had always pushed away his emotions, hidden behind an impenetrable wall.
Oliver closed his eyes again. He loved living in Melbourne. He loved playing baseball and being paid for it. But inside, he was scared of losing it all. He knew there was a big chance he’d never be able to play on a professional level. The very thought tore at him, and the not knowing drove him almost insane.
When he opened his eyes again, the image of the fields of farming country he’d woken up to as a kid disappeared, and the view of his backyard took its place. God, he missed his family. Missed his parents. It’d certai
nly been a while. With as much effort as he was able to manage, not to mention feeling weary after a sleepless night, he took his crutches and got out of bed. He hopped over to the cupboard and threw a couple of things into his bag, sure that someone would give him a lift to his parents’.
Oliver was about to give Tyson a call when the doorbell rang. He checked the time and ignored whoever was standing on the other side of the door. His early visitor was persistent, though. Letting out a litany of curses, he made his way to the front, but when he opened the door, he wasn’t able to hold back a big grin.
“You’re early. You can’t get enough of me it seems,” he said.
Tamara stood, eyes wide open, then turned and walked away.
“Hey,” he quickly shouted and then let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry.”
She stopped, hesitated, and then looked over her shoulder.
“Shitty morning,” he said in answer to her unspoken question.
“Are you in pain?” she asked quietly.
Adjusting the crutches under his arms, he leaned against the doorjamb. “Pain is a bitch. I can’t remember the last time getting out of bed’s been so much work.” Then he hobbled further back to give her room to come in. “C’mon in. Want a coffee?”
She hesitated, seemingly considering the offer, but finally stepped in.
“I wasn’t really sure whether you’re on a special diet. You know, being in training most of the time, so I thought—”
“You miss me, so you’d drop by,” he finished.
She shot him a glare.
“Give me a break and something to smile at.”
“You don’t answer your phone.”
Right, he had switched off the phone last night. The incessant bombardment of phone calls and well wishes had been too much after a while.
“Saw your message, though. Not really in the mood for talking,” he explained as he made his way past her into the kitchen. He reached for the kettle and filled it with water. “You’re here because of my diet?”
