by Juanita Kees
Sensing his anger, the people in the queue around him moved away, except for big Pat Doolan.
‘Shut your mug, you fool,’ the truckie warned Zac.
Travis had never had much time for Pat Doolan. He was as shady as the Bannisters were. But right now, he agreed with the man. Apparently Zac was too dumb to take the hint.
‘Have you ever made a woman scream, Bailey?’
He leaned in and Travis caught a whiff of whiskey on his breath as Zac explained in detail a repulsive version of how to pleasure a woman. There was nothing nice or romantic about it at all. If what he’d described was what he’d done to Tracy that night, the man deserved the death penalty. Travis’ blood pressure rose along with his disgust.
‘That’s what I’d like to do to the little social worker because you wouldn’t have a clue how to give it to a woman like her.’
White hot fury gripped him and common sense fled in its wake. Travis’ fists curled around the disgusting little man’s shirt and hauled him up on his toes.
‘If you lay a hand on another woman in this town, I swear to God I’ll rip your dick off and shove it up your arse. Now get out of my face before I forget my manners,’ he snarled.
He shoved Zac away and watched him stagger back. Around him, silence filled the room as people watched, held their breath and waited for the first punch to be thrown. Travis turned to walk away instead.
With a roar, Zac launched forward and wrapped his arms around Travis’ waist. The momentum sent them crashing to the hard jarrah floor, the thud echoing around the hall.
Travis barely had time to notice Heather’s office door open before they rolled and Zac’s meaty fist connected with his jaw. His head snapped back against the floor with a thump. Pain exploded in his brain, leaving him light-headed.
He saw the next fist coming as it plunged towards his left eye. He tried to block it with his forearm but his reflexes were too slow with his head spinning like a top. Zac’s knuckles smashed into the side of his face and it became a fight for survival.
Travis heard Heather’s shout, ignored it as he raised his knee and shoved it into Zac’s chest with a roar of his own. Zac staggered back, winded but not deterred because he came back for more.
This time Travis was prepared. He held up his feet encased in steel-capped boots stopping the big ape short as they connected with his groin.
Travis felt the shudder of the impact all the way through his leg muscles. They’d be damn sore later but it was worth it to see the bastard crash to the floor cradling his nuts.
He staggered to his feet, tempted to go over and stomp on his balls for good measure, to make sure the dickhead didn’t use them for a very long time, but Heather barred his way.
‘That’s enough, Travis Bailey.’
His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, his eyes never leaving the man now rocking on the floor in agony.
‘Someone get Doc Benson in here,’ Heather called as Travis swayed on his feet.
He wiped the side of his face on his arm. It came away sticky with blood.
Heather’s tiny hand pressed firmly into his stomach. ‘Sit down, idiot.’
He sank to his haunches and then dropped on his backside, the room whirling around him. Elbows on his bent knees, he cradled his head against his fists, wincing as his knuckles grazed the tender spot on the side of his face.
‘What the hell was that about? Look at you! Jesus, Travis, what were you thinking?’
He wanted to answer her, but his jaw ached too much. He shook his head and regretted that too as pain speared his scalp. With a moan, he leaned back and lay down on the hard wooden floor.
‘I’d rather have you kiss me better than go through it all again.’
‘You’re dreaming. What were you doing picking a fight with that bully? This isn’t the schoolyard.’
Travis covered his eyes with his forearm, hoping to ease the headache pounding between his eyes. ‘He started it.’
‘Well you didn’t have to go and finish it, did you?’
‘You’re very sexy when you’re angry,’ he said, peeping out from under his arm.
Heather clamped her mouth shut, her eyes glittering angrily, suspiciously wet.
‘I did warn you not to waste your tears on me.’ He winced as she slapped the arm he held against his head. ‘Ouch.’
‘May the cat eat you, and may the devil eat the cat, you … shit!’
‘I’m pretty sure you’ve used that one on me before,’ he muttered as he heard the click of her heels retreating across the floor. ‘Except for the shit bit, that’s new.’
A couple of hours, three stitches at the corner of his eye and two painkillers later, he sat beside Heather in her four-wheel drive groaning as she found every pothole in the road to go through.
‘Jesus, Heather, go easy.’
He moaned as she swung into the turn of his driveway and rattled over the drain grate. His ribs ached from the thumping they’d taken when Zac had tackled him to the floor.
She mumbled something he wasn’t sure was English and most likely another of her Irish descendants’ curses. He hung onto the armrest on the door and prayed for the end of their journey.
‘Mrs Everett will drop Casey and Harry off. Just as well they had a play date over at Benji’s while you were brawling like a hooligan.’
‘Harry won’t be happy if he hears you calling it a play date.’ She glared at him and he wisely closed his mouth, saying nothing until they pulled up at his front door. ‘Wasn’t a play date. It was canasta with Benji’s grandad.’
But then again when two old men were well on their way to their second childhood, he guessed it could be called a play date.
He winced as Heather slammed the door. Okay, so she was mad at him. That was cool. But with Bannister’s taunts ringing in his ears, he wouldn’t let her make him feel guilty for fighting back.
If he hadn’t, Zac would have had no qualms about smashing his face in, and he had his girls to protect. Oh shit, no. Girl, only one girl could be considered his and that was Casey. And even that was touch and go.
‘Do you need help getting out?’
The girl he couldn’t think of as his looked up at him with those eyes like hot chocolate sauce, and even if they were still at boiling point, they were damn sexy pools he wanted to dive into.
‘I’ll be okay.’ He slid down off the seat onto the dusty drive, the contact jarring the stiffening muscles in his legs. ‘Thanks for bringing me home.’
‘Doc Benson didn’t want you driving. I didn’t have an alternative.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘You will be.’ Heather sighed. ‘Go on … go inside. Standing out in this heat won’t do that thick head of yours any good. Doc Benson says I’m to stay with you. The painkillers will make you sleepy soon. We have to check you every few hours for signs of concussion. I told the doc your head’s too hard for that.’
‘I’m feeling the love, thanks.’ He tried to grin but his jaw ached with the effort. ‘Jesus, did he break my jaw?’
‘No, but you’ve got some nice bruises there.’ Her tone softened, the brush of her hand on his jaw gentle against the tender flesh. ‘Somehow I think Zac’s suffering more than you are.’
‘I bloody well hope so,’ said Travis. ‘I hope he never gets to use his balls again. And just for the record, if he doesn’t, I will have succeeded in protecting every woman within a hundred kilometre radius of Wongan Creek from his idea of romance. He’s a mean bastard, Heather. Promise me you’ll stay far away and never be alone anywhere near him.’
Heather took his arm and placed it around her shoulders, sending delicious tingles travelling up all the way to his heart then hooked her arm around his waist.
‘That’s one promise I’ll give you. Come on, let’s get you inside. I need a cup of tea.’
No way in hell would he argue with a woman who fit so perfectly against him, even if she was only offering support for his injured body. A guy could get used to
this kind of pampering.
At the top of the stairs, he leaned his pounding head on the wall next to the front door.
‘Keys?’ Heather held out her hand.
‘Front pocket on the right.’
‘Last I knew there was nothing wrong with your hands.’ She eyed him squarely.
‘I’m using them to stop my head from falling off my shoulders.’ He demonstrated by cupping his face.
Heather chuckled, a wicked light in her eyes. ‘Fine then. I’m going in,’ she warned.
And oh God, did she take her own sweet, punishing time about it. The flat of her palm grazed his abdomen as long fingers for such small hands reached into his pocket at a painfully slow pace.
Her fingers played around in search of the key, coming close to a stiffening muscle that had nothing to do with his recent rumble in the Town Hall, but ached no less for it. He sucked in a breath that hurt his ribs and let it loose on a groan.
‘You’re killing me.’
Finally, she fished the keys from his pocket with a grin and dangled them in front of him. He closed his sore eye which was already swelling shut and watched her insert the key into the lock. He caught the exact moment she twigged she’d been conned.
‘You sneaky bastard!’
‘We don’t lock our doors here in Wongan Creek, but that was a helluva lot of fun.’ Although he thought the joke might be on him as he pushed away from the wall with yet another ache to contend with.
She glanced at the zipper on his jeans. ‘I can tell. Pity you’re all banged up already then, isn’t it?’ She swanned into the house, leaving him to follow her deliciously rounded arse and wishing he hadn’t gone back to sign up for the wood chopping.
Shit!
Chapter 11
Heather sipped her tea and watched Travis sleep. Long golden lashes caressed the skin above his cheekbones, marred only by the purple bruise forming around his eye socket and the angry red cut stitched closed by Doc Benson.
She sighed. Her heart had almost stopped when she’d opened the office door to see what the noise was. And then to see Zac Bannister deliver those blows … God, she’d thought he’d kill Travis.
Her fingers tightened around the mug. After that kiss in the office, she’d totally lost her heart to this complex, funny, kind and lovable man prepared to sacrifice his own life for the people he cared for.
No way could she let the Bannisters ever have custody of Casey, not when her uncle was the best father a girl could wish for. But to do that meant distancing herself emotionally from them both, and she wasn’t at all sure how she could manage that.
Travis stirred in his sleep, his hand moving over his ribs where yet another bruise blossomed. She let her eyes travel the length of his chest to his abdomen. Hard muscles and sinew, sculptured by physical work made for an impressive man-scape. Her hands itched to touch him again.
She was still mad at him though, for getting into the fight in the first place, for letting that nasty piece of work rile him up to a point where it involved fists. If the Bannisters laid charges, it would go on his file at the Department of Health and Welfare who didn’t look kindly upon violence of any sort in a guardian.
The ladies had assured her it wasn’t Travis who’d started the fight and she believed them, but he’d fought back and was clearly the victor. The only bit about that, which gave her a great deal of satisfaction, was that Zac Bannister’s pain would surely be more severe than Travis’. Perhaps it would teach him a lesson. Then again, he was the sort who never learned.
Heather smoothed the shock of white fringe away from his forehead and let her hand and fingers slide gently down his cheek to the roughness of his unshaven jaw. Her insides tightened with want as he turned his head and pressed into her touch.
Oh Saints, how awesome it would be to wake up to that face on the pillow next to hers. To see that sexy grin in the early light at dawn and trail her fingers across that firm, warm body.
When he’d held her earlier, she’d had a taste of what it would be like to make love with Travis Bailey, a dream she could visualise, but dared not make come true.
How sweet it would be to steal a kiss from those full lips as he slept. His mouth was hard and firm, his kiss full of passion and heart, his tongue skilled in the art of dance. And lordy, the feel of his body against hers, the length of him promising unbridled passion and fulfilment.
Oh good heavens, Heather Penney, listen to yourself! Lusting after a man you can’t have.
She drew her hand away from his face and wrapped her fingers around her mug instead. Her focus had to lie with the welfare of an almost six-year-old. Even though it was clear that Travis was the one who deserved to keep her, the department and parties involved didn’t always agree.
Heather checked the slim gold watch on her wrist, a little piece of her mum she carried with her. It was almost time for Mrs Everett to bring Casey and Harry home, and Travis would need to take more painkillers soon.
She abandoned the idea of kissing him awake. That would only lead to trouble. Unfolding her legs from under her, she stood and waited for the pins and needles to subside before walking to the kitchen and rinsing out her mug.
She grabbed a packet of frozen peas from the freezer, moved back to the sofa in the lounge room, and because she was still a little mad at him, placed the ice cold packet on his left eye.
‘Fu … far out!’ His body jerked against the cushions of the sofa and he glared at her from out of his good eye. ‘There’ll be payback for that one, baby.’
‘Toughen up, big guy. How’s your head?’
‘When it defrosts, I’ll tell you. Oh God, how can that feel so good yet so painful at the same time?’ He placed a hand on the packet of peas to hold it in place.
‘It’s almost time for Casey to come home. Should I ask Harry to stay the night with you?’
His cheeky grin was lopsided due to the swelling in his jaw. ‘I’d rather you stay the night.’
Heather ignored the shaft of lust that speared through her at the thought. ‘Can’t. I have plans to watch reruns of Heartbeat on telly.’
Travis chuckled then groaned. ‘That’ll be the first time I’ve been stood up for PC Mike Bradley.’ He pushed himself up, leaning on his elbow on the sofa cushion, one hand still holding tightly onto the impromptu cold press. ‘Seriously though, Harry wouldn’t remember he’s meant to be looking after me. What if he gets up, doesn’t recognise his surroundings and wanders off during the night?’
Heather sighed. He had a point. Harry wouldn’t remember to wake him up every couple of hours to check for signs of concussion either.
‘If you’re worried about being alone with me …’
‘I’m not!’ Heather answered, too quickly.
Travis raised the eyebrow that didn’t hurt at her. ‘You’re not, hey? Okay then. In case you are though, we’ll be well chaperoned by Casey. I bet my farm she won’t leave my side tonight.’ A hint of sadness crept into his voice. ‘If I get so much as a cut on my finger, she thinks I’ll die and leave her. She’s gonna hate this.’
‘Should’ve thought about that before you got into a scuffle then.’
He removed the packet of peas from his eye to reveal the swollen mess. ‘You know I had no chance of avoiding the confrontation. He came at me. There are witnesses who’ll confirm it. Even his mate, Pat Doolan saw that.’
Heather took the peas from his hand and pressed it back to his eye. ‘I know, but let me be mad at you for a bit longer. It makes me feel better. Lie down.’
‘Feel better about what?’ Travis covered her hand with his and lay back down, his head against the armrest on the sofa.
‘About what happened before the fight.’ She shivered at the warmth of his touch and pulled her hand from under his.
‘I’m not going to lie to you. I like you more than I should.’
‘For Casey’s sake we have to let it go.’
Travis lowered the packet of peas and looked at her, one green eye bright,
the other red and puffy. Her heart did a little dance because even injured, he was still a handsome devil who stirred things in her she’d never felt for anyone else before.
With her mum so ill, there’d never been much time to date, but on the odd occasion she had, she’d felt an attraction to her partners. Just never this deep, heart-wrenching, gut-twisting, aching need to be with someone. And this was the first time she’d felt comfortable with a man who enjoyed silence as much as he did conversation, who loved so deeply and cared so much for the people around him. Perhaps in another time, another world …
‘Come here.’
The sexiness of his request washed over her, reached in, and tied her stomach into knots of desire to do as he asked, but her mind screamed resistance.
‘No.’ The words came out on a whisper without much conviction, so she tried again, ‘No!’
He tugged gently until she toppled onto his chest and their legs tangled on the sofa. Travis adjusted her weight to perfectly align with the length of his body, wincing as her weight tested the bruising on his ribcage.
His hard, firm body pressed against hers, his warmth seeping through her skin and melting the resistance in the muscles she held tight. His big palm pressed her head against his chest and she could hear the soft thump of his heart, feel the rise and fall of his breathing as the tension eased out of her.
Giving in to his warmth, she let her fingers rest on the skin at the curve of his ribcage. Then his arms were around her hugging her to him and she knew there was no place she’d rather be. Ahead of them lay a battle, behind them a struggle. For now she wanted to pretend neither of those existed.
Underneath her, his body warmed and grew harder, starting a delicious tingle where she lay in the cradle of his hips. Heather inhaled his scent—a mix of man and the arnica cream Doc Benson had slathered on his ribs. She wrinkled her nose.
‘You’ve got to let me go, Travis. Casey could walk in any moment.’
‘I have an ear out for the bus. Mrs Everett won’t drive anything else. Let me hold you a while? I might not get another chance now.’
