I held my hands up to say, “I wasn’t” and started slicing chicken.
“It’s probably because of the wedding. It’s just got me thinking, I guess. I’m not desperate for a wife and kids or anything. I just…” He let out his breath, focusing his gaze outside again. “I want something to change. I want…more.”
Now, that was something I understood.
Adding the chicken to the pan, I stirred it around until the pink turned white. “If you could magically change one thing in your life like that”—I clicked my fingers to go with my words—“what would it be?”
When I turned around, he needed to lift his eyes to meet mine. It looked like he was checking out my arse. I was still in my bikini and rash shirt.
“I’d have the giant C and U disappear from the side of my Ute.” He held my gaze as he licked his lips before gulping down the last of his beer.
He wants me gone that badly?
I turned away from his gaze so he couldn’t see my eyes and the distress his comment caused me. Having his Ute magically fixed would mean I’d be back sleeping in my car during that same click of the fingers. I didn’t want that. Not yet.
“Interesting. That’s the first thing I’d fix too,” I lied, pouring the pasta into the now boiling water. “At least then I could be done with you.” Giving it a stir, I then dropped the last of the ingredients into the meat mixture and put on the lid before I turned the heat right down.
Kristian scoffed. “You’ll never be done with me.”
My eyes flicked to meet his. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I snapped.
He looked away. “It means you’re incapable of letting shit go.”
“Jesus, you think you know me so well, don’t you?”
His eyes connected with mine again. “Am I wrong?”
That was the shitty thing. He wasn’t wrong at all. I was angry for what my life had become, and I blamed him and his family for it. There was no way I could let that go. In a way, I felt like they owed this living situation to me. They’d taken everything else as a result of their actions, so the least they could do was get me off the street. Toby had suggested as much earlier in the week, and all I had to do was stay out of trouble. Arguing with Kristian was probably the opposite of that. I knew I should keep my mouth shut and just do what I was told, but I couldn’t help myself. All I knew was how to fight.
Moving about the kitchen, I cleaned up what I could then checked on the food. It needed at least ten minutes more to be ready.
“Am I allowed a shower?” I asked as I dried my hands on a tea towel.
“Go for it,” he said with a flippant wave of his hand.
“And do I need an escort, or did I win full bathroom privileges out there?”
His eyes went to my face first, dropped to my chest, then made their way down to my bare toes before returning to my face. His Adam’s apple bobbed then he shifted his focus to the empty beer bottle in front of him where his fingers were busy peeling off the label. God, this guy burns hot and cold. What was it they said about people picking at drink labels? That it was a sign of sexual frustration? Was that his problem? He needed to get laid? I didn’t know him well enough to be sure, but I knew men, and most were a hell of a lot nicer after a good fuck.
There’s a party outside with many willing participants, Kristian. Go play. Unless of course, his ‘frustration’ was directed at me… Could it be?
The entire label came off with a tear and he rolled the paper into a ball with his fingers. “It’s fine. I’ll keep an eye on the food.” He cleared his throat then looked back over at me. I stood a little straighter, pushing out my chest as I watched his eyes drop down and heat. Holy shit. “That means go,” he snapped, seeming to effortlessly slip back into the man who thought I was a nuisance.
What if I’m reading him wrong? No, I didn’t think I was. We’d been sharing a bed for days, sharing a bathroom too. He’d seen my body. I’d seen his. Of course he was interested, he was a man, after all and I wasn’t completely unattractive. I supposed what was impressive was his restraint. He had me in a position where he could do whatever he wanted to me, and he chose to hold back. Was there honour in my captor? A line he wouldn’t cross?
Still, when I thought about it, I’d noticed him enough times this week to be fairly certain there was a part of Kristian who wanted me. A drop-dead gorgeous man—who could have any woman with a click of his fingers—wanted to watch me shower but couldn’t trust himself in his determination to keep that façade of distaste he had going on. Was that it? If I was right, that Kristian was a man I could work with, a man I could convince to keep me around.
But was that who I was now? A whore? I’d sworn to myself that that would be the line I never crossed. But was tempting a man I disliked but found attractive in the hope he’d keep me around the same thing? Or was I just someone desperate to stay in the safety of a beach shack, even if it was with a man who’d probably kick me out the minute my debt was paid?
At the end of the day, I didn’t think my reasoning mattered, my motivation was still the same—I wanted to give him a reason to keep me around.
Reaching down, I took a hold of the hem of my rashie and pulled it over my head, revealing the string bikini underneath. It was royal blue and brought out the green flecks in my hazel eyes. I watched the heat flare in his gaze, felt it lick over my body before I turned and walked away, a smile playing on my lips as my body reacted to him. This time, my reaction didn’t piss me off. It opened the door to a world of possibilities. Kristian Cartwright wanted me, and maybe—just maybe—I could rock his world so hard he’d never want to let me go. Probability? Possibly zero. But I had to try. Because I have nothing else to offer.
Chapter Seven
I Should Have Gone To Bed
By the time I finished in the shower, the pasta was cooked and Kristian had already eaten. I found him outside sitting by the fire pit, the pull of the party obviously too much for him after all.
I had dressed myself in a pair of jeans shorts and a pink tie-dyed T-shirt—nothing too revealing because Kristian had made it clear that he wasn’t interested in screwing around any more. Meaning, if I wanted to try to gain his trust, and a bit more time out of my car as my home, anything too sexy might turn him off. I was going to give him the fantasy he was searching for. Even if it’s only temporary.
To the outsider, seeing what I was doing and knowing the thought process behind it probably seemed super conniving. But, put yourself in my shoes. I had no one to count on, nothing to help me but my wits and looks. Kristian Cartwright was my meal ticket, a place to rest my head. He was the kind of man I’d been searching for—he had his own business and home, so was therefore stable; he knew what he wanted and was therefore driven. Sure, there was that whole crooked side to him I hadn’t figured out yet, but I wasn’t one to complain about a little criminal activity. If I was honest, it was part of what excited me about him. When I weighed everything up, he seemed to tick all the boxes. It certainly didn’t hurt that he was gorgeous as fuck too.
Making myself a bowl of pasta, I sat inside and ate it, picking up a surf magazine and flipping through the pages while listening to the murmur of chatter outside. I wanted to go out there and be a part of the fun. But something told me the better option was to stay inside and wait until he came to me. Suddenly changing tack and being all about him would only give me away. So I waited.
I cleaned the kitchen. I curled up on the couch continuing to flick through more magazines. Surprisingly there was no porn, but that didn’t mean much; they could just be hiding it or prefer videos over pictures. Anyway, about an hour had passed, and I was reading an article about Australian surfer, Stephanie Gilmore, when he came inside to get more beer.
“You don’t need to spend all night alone in here,” he said over the top of the fridge door. “You can come out.”
I closed the magazine and set it to the side. “It’s OK. I didn’t want to overstep with your friends.“
“You surf these beaches. I’m sure you know some of them too.”
I looked outside then stretched my arms above my head, yawning. “Yeah, I probably do. But it’s been a really long day—week, actually. I wouldn’t mind going to bed early.”
He grinned, the alcohol obviously making him a little more personable. I had to admit that I liked it when he was like this, softer. “You reckon you can sleep through all that?” He nodded to the party outside. It was noisy, but after the conditions I’d been sleeping in over the last few months, I was fairly sure I could sleep through anything if it was in a bed.
“I’m pretty tired.”
Moving closer, he held out his hand. “It’ll take more than beating me to shore to earn the bed to yourself.”
“You’re really pulling the whole master and slave thing to get me to go to a party you didn’t even want to happen?”
He pulled me to standing. “If I suffer, you suffer. Besides, it’s Friday. We can sleep in tomorrow.”
It was then I noticed a slight sheen to his eyes. “You don’t look like you’re suffering. You look like you’re stoned.”
He bounced a shoulder. “A little weed makes a shitty situation better. Come on, you’re making the place look messy.”
He picked up the beers he’d taken from the fridge and handed me one, leading me outside and introducing me to the group. He was right, I had seen a few of them before, but I’d never interacted with them. I’m not the best people person on the planet and tended to keep my distance.
Kristian shooed a couple of guys away then took a seat on a white wicker couch with a worn green cushion featuring a bamboo pattern. He gestured for me to join him, then he tapped his beer bottle against mine. “That’s better. Wasn’t so hard, was it?”
I grinned and tried not to shake my head as I took a sip of beer. I loved that he thought he was doing me a favour by getting me to join in.
The conversation around the fire consisted of stories about big waves, shark sightings, party fables, and anything that could produce a laugh. Which wasn’t hard when joints were getting passed around. I took a hit and held it in as I handed it to Kristian. His smile came easy and his fingers brushed against mine, eyes connected as he sucked the smoke into his lungs. Everything was going so well. It was the longest stretch of time we’d spent without arguing or snapping at each other. As my buzz made its way around my body, I started to think successfully seducing Kristian was a real possibility. Then the girl with the big tits dropped into Kristian’s lap and asked for a hit, grabbing him on either side of the face and basically sucking the smoke directly from his lungs. My stomach bottomed out when he pulled back and licked his lips, a dimple-producing smirk on his face. Fuck. Next thing I knew, one of her friends slipped in the tiny gap between Kristian and me and wriggled her hips to make me move. It was a targeted attack, designed to get me out of the way so they could have Kristian to themselves. But I wasn’t so easy to get rid of. I wedged myself in place, squished at the edge of the chair with the arm of it digging in my hip. Every time she laughed, she jostled her hips and squished me more. In return, I dug my elbow in her side. She glared at me. I smiled. Then she flicked her hair back and it copped me in the face. I caught Abbot watching me from the other side of the fire pit, amusement in his smile. He thought this was funny, which meant those girls were making me look like a fool. And I was nobody’s fool.
The next time her hair flicked, I caught it in my hand and yanked her head back. “Get the fuck off me, bitch. Or I’ll get the clippers and give you a reverse Mohawk. I’m sure you’ll look real cute with a nice bald strip.”
She cried out in pain and made way more of a scene than she needed to. When I released her, she screeched that I was a psycho and stomped off, her friend went after her. The whole party went quiet, all eyes looking my way.
I cleared my throat and squared my shoulders as I glanced at Kristian then stood up. “Told you I should have gone to bed.”
He said nothing and sat with a completely impassive expression. I’d blown it already. I knew that. There was no way he’d view me as the ‘settle down’ girl after this. I was too wild. Although, who was I trying to kid? He already knew that about me anyway. I was being a dumb-arse. As if he’d ever really want what I have to offer.
Deciding the party wasn’t the best place for me, I headed for the house to go to bed. But not before I paused in front of Abbot and fixed him with a glare, not caring if I was out of line since I was sure they thought I was crazy anyway. “You know, Abbot, the next time your brother tells you he doesn’t want a party, fucking listen to him. And don’t go pretending you weren’t being a dick by bringing this here when you could have done it somewhere else. We both know you just didn’t give a fuck about what he wanted.”
Abbot just smiled and took a drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out of his nose. I huffed out my breath and took off for the house, the party starting up again the moment I walked inside. Laughter carried into the house like a switch had been flipped.
Who needs those people anyway? I was never going to fit in. Going with the flow was never really my style, so it was stupid of me to even consider turning myself into something I wasn’t. The doting girlfriend was never my thing. I wouldn’t have been able to pull it off.
Taking off my bra and jean shorts, I set them on top of my bag before I climbed into bed, my phone in my hand as I listened to the revelry outside. Lighting up my screen, I unlocked the phone then opened up the realestate.com app. Going through photos of pretty houses was one of my favourite things to do when I wanted to calm down. I knew it was a stupid pie-in-the-sky dream, but sometimes I needed to dream to hide from the shithole that was my life.
“Trying to call for help?” Kristian’s voice startled me. Fumbling my phone, I grunted when it fell and hit me in the face.
“Motherfucker,” I muttered, groping to pick it up while he chuckled at my misfortune.
“Sorry, doll. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“What are you doing in here anyway? You should be out there swapping smoke with titty Barbie and her big-bottomed friend.”
“Didn’t like them much, hey?”
I slid my phone underneath my pillow. “They sat on me.”
“Rude.”
“You’re telling me.” I rolled onto my side and got comfortable. “You seemed to like them though,” I added, knowing it made me sound jealous but being unable to keep my bloody mouth shut.
“It was just a bit of fun. Nothin’ to it. Told them all to go home so I could get some sleep.”
“That wouldn’t have made Abbot very happy.”
“He’s got both girls to himself. Trust me, he’s very happy.”
“Oh God, so I’m going to have to be nice to them in the morning?”
“Nah. He took them somewhere else. The brunette is a little afraid of you.”
“She shouldn’t have squashed me.”
With a chuckle, he headed into the bathroom and had a quick shower. I took the opportunity to slip my phone into my backpack before getting back into bed.
I was almost asleep when the bed depressed and his bare chest pressed against my back, his warm arm sliding around my waist. He let out a sigh. I almost did the same. I couldn’t lie. Having his arm around me felt good.
“Are you going to spoon me under the pretence of holding me prisoner every night?”
“You ask too many questions. Go to sleep.”
I was quiet for about two seconds.
“I shouldn’t have yelled at Abbot.” It wasn’t an apology, just an admission of wrongdoing. I didn’t do apologies.
“Abbot deserves to be yelled at. He’s a shit.”
“I probably shouldn’t have threatened to shave that girl’s head either.”
His body rocked slightly from a chuckle. “Is that what you said? I couldn’t hear over her freaking out.”
“She kept flicking it in my face.”
“Served her right then.”
We
fell quiet for a moment, my mind searching for something more to say. I was tired, but I wanted to keep talking, wanted to talk away the uneasy feeling twisting up my chest.
“I realised something tonight,” I whispered.
“What’s that?” he asked, his voice growing sleepy.
“I thought I hated you, but it turns out I don’t.”
A burst of air left his nose in silent amusement.
“I mean, I don’t exactly like you, but I don’t hate you either. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah. Now go to sleep. I stopped a party so you could.”
“I thought you did that for you.”
“Hmm. Turns out I don’t hate you either.”
Chapter Eight
Two People Who Don’t Hate Each Other
Voices coming from the other room woke me some time the next morning. I was alone in Kristian’s bed, and even though it was obviously mid-morning, I still didn’t want to get up. I was so comfy.
“Are you fucking her?”
My ears pricked at the question, the voice sounding like it came from Abbot. He’s obviously finished with his party girls.
“I haven’t touched her.” That was Kristian.
“Then what’s your deal? Why is she in your bed?”
I pressed up onto my elbows, listening. It was obvious they were talking about me.
Do they know how well sound carries in this house?
“Where else is she going to sleep?”
“The couch. Or, since I didn’t sleep here last night, she could have taken your bed and you could have had mine, or vice versa.”
“There is no way in hell I’d make anyone sleep in your bed. I know what you get up to in that thing, and God only knows when you last changed your sheets.”
“I see, so this is a hygiene thing?”
“Too right.”
“A hygiene and a vengeance thing—because this is all about teaching her a lesson for fucking with your wheels, right?”
“It’s about teaching her not to mess with what she doesn’t understand.”
Foolish Games: Cartwright Brothers, book 3 Page 6
