Elissa rolled her eyes.
A cat started meowing in the depths of the house, catching all their attention.
“Poor little bugger.” Simon gestured with the sandwich, the smell of sardine and onion wafting in the air. “He’s missing you.”
Moz started in the direction of the meowing. “I really need to find a place of my own.”
“Got our ears out for you, mate. But don’t fret, Mozart’s no problem.”
Moz opened the bedroom door carefully and slowly. Sure enough, he felt the slight resistance. “It’s just me, boy.”
Mozart starting meowing louder than ever, his head peering around the door as Moz moved further in, his big eyes lighting up. Anxiously, he went up on his back legs, his claws digging into Moz’s pants as he started to yell up at Moz.
Scooping him up in his arms, Moz cradled the cat close, pressing him against his chest. Mozart kept bleating, bumping his head against Moz’s chin, purring loudly, paws going each side of Moz’s neck.
Smoothing his hand down the cat’s back, Moz rumbled soft words to him, knowing he liked the sensation and sound, rewarded by Mozart closing his eyes and rubbing the side of his head against his chin.
The slight coat he had was soft, like a glove, the skin warm. In winter he’d need the coats that Moz had packed away, but for now he liked the summer warmth. And he was safe from the sun inside the bedroom.
It was a nice bedroom, the same one his sister had offered to put him up in when he’d first shifted to Gully’s Fall, but no way was Moz going to stay with her and Simon. Newly-weds didn’t need another person in their house. Moz certainly didn’t want to stumble into any romantic scenario that would embarrass them and burn his own eyes out of their sockets. He loved his sister, he liked Simon, but some things he just didn’t need to see or hear.
Moz spent several minutes soothing the cat, feeling him relax.
The sound of voices came from the front of the house, the door shutting. Visitors. Recognising the voices, his eyes narrowed. Good.
“Bring Mozart out for awhile,” Elissa called. “Arthur’s outside and Mozart can stretch his legs.”
Placing Mozart on the floor, Moz moved back down the hallway, catching a glimpse of his sister in the kitchen mixing something in a bowl. Continuing to the lounge, he was careful not to step on the cat dogging his every footstep. In the doorway he looked in to see Ryder and Scott sitting on the sofa. Three out of four, that’d do.
Ryder looked up. “Hey, it’s Yeti.” Simon threw a cushion at his head, which the ambo caught. “What the hell…?”
“Why do you always have to prod the giant?”
“Hey, man, I’m just saying what you said.”
“He’s going to pound you into the ground one day.”
“Me? Hah.” Ryder looked at Moz, pursed his lips. “Okay, well…”
Moz smiled slightly. Yeah, Simon and his friends might be tall and muscular, but he was taller and carried a hell of a lot more muscle. They lifted weights and jogged for fitness, he did it for a hobby, and he was dead serious about his hobby. Ryder had almost stroked out just helping to shift some weights into Moz’s bedroom at the boarding house. Moz had hefted them in each hand. They’d been heavy, sure, but that was the whole point of it. Plus watching the ambo go red in the face had been fun.
But pleasant thoughts aside…“I want to talk to you three.”
They all raised their eyebrows at his tone.
Moz moved into the room, Mozart right behind him. Rather than take a seat, Moz slid his hands into his pockets while looking hard at the men.
Chapter 2
“If you’re going to start hitting, let me tell you right now that I’m only halfway through making my will,” Ryder said.
“You look pissed,” Scott observed.
Simon just watched him with deceiving laziness.
“I was out at Del’s today,” Moz stated.
Scott frowned. “I’d heard she was up on the bloody roof again. Hope you tore a strip off her.”
“Fool woman,” Ryder added. “She’ll fall off and break her damned leg one day.”
“That could very well be the least of her worries,” Moz growled. “I can’t believe you lot go ape shit about her going up on the roof, but when it comes to other things you’ve let it all slide.”
Ryder scowled. “What the hell are you on about?”
“She’s a woman alone in an isolated place.”
“It’s not like she’s the only one,” Scott pointed out. “And it’s not like anyone can physically stop her.”
“She does have freedom of choice,” Simon drawled. “But something tells me its more than just that that has you bent out of shape.”
“Bloody oath,” Moz retorted. “I went into her house to check the window locks.”
With a satisfied air, Ryder leaned back against the sofa. “Can’t complain about them, can you?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“She’s perfectly safe with those locks.”
“Those locks are flimsy.”
“Bullshit. I checked them out myself.”
Unbelievable. “You did a piss-poor job of it.”
That had Ryder snapping upright. “What? What are you bloody getting at?”
“Those locks are crap. Some of them are loose, it wouldn’t take much to force them open.”
“I’ll have you know I bloody checked them out at the hardware store myself! I have those locks on at my house, and I put them in Dee’s flat above the newsagent.”
“You seriously put those in Del’s house as well?”
“Put them in? No, she got her Dad to do it and…” Ryder paused, his frown lifting before darkening again. “What kind of locks did you see?”
“Like I said, flimsy and loose.”
Scott looked at Simon, back at Moz. “Let me guess, they were rusty as well?”
“Yep.”
“Bloody Del. The locks weren’t changed and she didn’t tell us.” Scott blew out an exasperated puff of air. “She’ll be the death of us.”
Moz angled his head, studied the men. “You didn’t know.”
“Shit, no, we didn’t know,” Ryder growled. “When she first moved out there, we went and checked the house with her. We told her to change the window locks, I went to the hardware store and picked them out. I wanted to put them in but she insisted her Dad would do it.” He scowled. “I should have checked myself.”
Scott looked at Moz. “I resent that you’d even think we’d allow her to be unprotected like that. Jesus, man, we’ve known her all our lives, looked out for her the whole time.”
“Then you should know her enough to realise that she isn’t always going to do what you recommend to her.”
“Recommend?” Ryder snorted. “We didn’t recommend. We told her.”
“That worked so well, didn’t it?”
Ryder glared at him. “I’ll sort out Del, you can go and get -”
“I’ve had a word to her. She wasn’t happy.”
“Really?” Scott grinned a little. “Did she flip you the bird?”
“No.”
“What did she do?”
“Got angry, then caved in.”
Simon’s eyes sparkled with amusement.
“Caved in,” Ryder echoed, his grin a hell of a lot wider. “Oh yes, of course Del would cave in. She’ll do exactly as you told her.”
Moz coolly raised an eyebrow. “I know she was lying through her teeth.”
“Of course she was,” Scott said. “She’ll tell you whatever you want to hear just to get you off her back.” His gaze cut to Ryder. “Like she did with the locks.”
“Technically, she didn’t lie about the locks,” Simon stated. “Well, maybe she did, but maybe she didn’t.”
“She didn’t get the locks,” Scott pointed out.
“Which I will get and put in myself.” Ryder scowled. “I just can’t decide if I’m going to do it before or after I rip her a new one.”
&n
bsp; Simon continued to watch Moz.
Moz looked right back at him.
“Got that sorted,” Simon murmured. “Got another question?”
“Actually, yeah. Why isn’t Del’s father checking she’s safe? Isn’t that his job, not your’s?”
“Ah, Mr Miller.” Scott gave a rueful shake of his head. “Mr Miller’s a nice bloke, don’t get me wrong, but he’s kind of-”
“Half-arsed,” Ryder said.
“I was going to say absentminded.”
“Drifts through life, easy-going,” Simon added. “A bit of a head-in-the-clouds kind of bloke.”
“Half-arsed,” Ryder said. “The man wouldn’t know he was run over until he noticed the tyre tracks across his body in the shower the next day.”
“He just doesn’t notice what’s going on around him that much,” Scott continued, trying to be a little nicer. “He means well, he just kind of never quite finishes things.”
“Or starts them,” Ryder said. “Be honest, Scott. He’s a nice bloke but not really reliable. It’s why he passed the shop on to Del to run. He nearly lost it a long time ago, so she took it on.” Ryder switched his gaze back to Moz. “In fact, she actually bought the shop from him eight months ago.”
Moz frowned. “What about her mother?”
“Hmmm.” Scott rubbed his chin. “Well, her Mum pretty much follows her Dad. They’re both dreamy people. She’s happy to live her life with Mr Miller, drifting along in a violet cloud of sweetness.”
“That’s a little nauseating,” Ryder said.
Scott shrugged.
Moz shook his head. “Yet Del is so stubborn.”
“She learned to be independent from an early age. Had to. She spent a lot of time with Dee’s family, so she grew up with Dee more as her sister than her cousin. She helped in the shop, took on the reins as soon as she left school, and now she owns it. Del is an old hand at independence.”
Moz thought about his and Elissa’s own childhood. His parents had been there but they’d pushed Elissa, pretty much leaving Moz on the side. He’d learned to be independent from an early age, learned to amuse himself, do his own thing. Learned to watch out for Elissa when he could.
Maybe he and Del had more in common than he’d first thought. But she was still a woman alone in a house that wasn’t very secure.
“Okay.” He looked at the men. “I apologise, I had no idea you’d all tried to help her with the locks. I just….”
Simon looked thoughtfully at him, Scott giving him the same expression. Ryder still looked annoyed.
“How come you’ve got your undies in a knot?” Simon asked. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re not worried about her for nothing.”
“Just friendly concern.”
Scott and Simon exchanged glances. Ryder snorted.
“Like I would be for any woman alone,” Moz added.
“Really?” Scott asked thoughtfully.
Refusing to be drawn into anything, Moz transferred his attention to Mozart, who was now investigating the coffee table. His nose ran along the edge as he inhaled the various smells. Mozart made his way slowly along the side before stopping to ogle Ryder.
“Holy crap.” Ryder grimaced. “That is one ugly cat.”
Moz frowned. “He’s all right.”
“He’s naked as the day he was born. Jesus, that isn’t normal.”
“He’s a Sphinx. He’s not supposed to have a lot of hair.”
“Not a lot? He’s bare-arsed naked.”
“If you bothered to look closer, you’d see he has a fine layer of hair.”
“Where?”
“On his body, where else?”
“Certainly not his arse. I can see the light reflecting off it.”
“You need glasses.”
“Yeah, to dim the brightness of the reflection.” Ryder rubbed his eyes. “Now that you mention, it, they do hurt. Must be the vision before me.”
“Must be a premonition of the stars you’ll see when I punch your lights out.”
“You’re a little sensitive about your pussy, aren’t you?” Ryder smirked.
Yes, in fact, Moz was a little sensitive about Mozart, mostly because he knew what the cat had been through.
Scott shook his head while Simon grinned.
“And here I thought it was going to be a quiet day,” Simon observed happily.
“I had no idea Ryder was cruising for a bruising.” Scott leaned back on the sofa. “This should be entertaining.”
“Hey,” said Ryder, “just telling it like it is. Not my fault he has this soft, mushy heart for freaky cats and independent blondes.” He shot Moz a grin. “Watch the blondes, especially the Millers. Got one myself. They’re not easy to handle.”
“I can handle Del.”
The ambo’s eyes narrowed speculatively. “And just why would you want to handle her?”
Not going there, no way. Especially not with this teasing, cocky bastard. Moz’s gaze flicked to Scott and Simon, both watching him with the same speculative gleam in their eyes. Nor with these two.
“If you’ve finished gossiping like old maids,” he drawled, “can you tell me if you’ve heard of any rentals?”
“Here.” Ryder pointed to an armchair. “Why don’t you sit and share your thoughts?”
“Share my thoughts? With you three? Are you shitting me?”
“What’s wrong with us three?”
“What’s right with you three? No thanks.” Moz dropped onto the armchair, Mozart immediately standing on his hind legs to place his paws against Moz’s knees and meow anxiously. He stroked the cat’s head. “It’s all right, boy, I’m not going anywhere.”
“That’s right,” Ryder crooned. “Daddy is staying here and letting us know why he’s so interested in a certain blonde.”
“Not in this lifetime.”
“What’s wrong with Del?” Scott queried.
“Nothing’s wrong with Del.” Far from it. Kind of. “But that’s not why I’m here.”
“You were the one who brought up her house.”
“Her security. I came to see Mozart and you three just happened to be here, so I brought up her security.” Moz watched Mozart start a slow circle of the lounge, sniffing everything in sight. “Finished.”
“Finished?” Ryder echoed. “So why are you sitting down?”
“To visit with Mozart.” Moz looked at Simon. “Your friend isn’t too bright, is he?”
“It’s okay,” Simon replied cheerfully. “Elissa still lets me play with him.”
Ryder turned incredulous eyes on him. “Jesus, that sounded just so wrong.”
Scott laughed.
“If you were into men, it would be so right,” Simon pointed out.
“Neither of us is into men,” Ryder retorted.
“Then it’s just your filthy mind, isn’t it?” Simon leered. “Or is it wishful thinking, sweetheart?”
“I need a vomit bag.”
Grinning, Moz settled back in the armchair, relaxing as the men exchanged insults. He’d become friendly with them all, mostly Simon as he was his brother-in-law, but he couldn’t truthfully say he was great friends with them just yet. It was kind of a work-in-progress. Moz didn’t make friends easily.
Grant, on the other hand, well the vet and he had come to know each other a lot more since he’d taken on the role of RSPCA inspector. It was a given, seeing as Grant was the only vet in town. The man was a good bloke.
But one thing he was grateful for, was the happiness Simon brought to Moz’s little sister. Elissa was the very picture of contentedness and happiness.
Moz’s gaze drifted to the fireplace mantel where photos stood. One was of Scott’s wedding, where Moz towered behind Simon and Elissa. Man, he looked a little grim even though he smiled. Probably because he’d been so wary of the man he had never met courting his sister.
In turn, almost everyone had been wary of him. He was under no illusions, he was tall
er than the average man, heavily muscled, and he hadn’t put himself out to make great friends, just tried to be pleasant and dig around to find out what kind of man his sister was dating.
Del had been pissed. He sure remembered that. He’d been holding her gingerly in his arms as they’d danced at the reception, her slim, buxom figure pressed up to him, and he’d asked her point blank if the firie had a bad reputation. When she’d denied it, he’d pressed a little harder, because everyone knew that good friends sometimes stretched the truth. She’d asked him what would happen if Simon did have a reputation, and in hindsight, telling her that he’d personally rip Simon’s head off and use it for a football wasn’t the nicest thing to say to a woman he’d just met that evening. Even a whole year later the stunned look on her pretty face, followed by the pure indignation and anger, was still vivid in his mind. She’d sure made an impression on him, especially when she’d told him if he said one more word she’d make sure he couldn’t walk without wincing.
His gaze drifted to the next photo taken of the original group of friends before they’d gotten married. Simon, Scott, Kirk, Ryder, Dee and Del. Del was the only single one left. In the photo they were younger by a couple of years, but they hadn’t changed. The two women, cousins, looked very alike, both blonde and buxom with pale blue eyes and a whole lot of attitude. Only Dee was generously curved, whereas Del was curvy but slim.
The woman had a pair of breasts on her, that much was obvious. So obvious he’d seen several men eyeing her sideways. Okay, he couldn’t help it, he’d snuck a couple of glances her way when she wasn’t looking. So sue him, Del had a figure to make a red-blooded man’s mouth water. She also had a tongue on her that could spout sarcasm enough to make someone wince. Not as bad as Dee’s, true, but Del certainly had her own way.
Eyes drifting half closed, he pondered, his thoughts drifting back to Del’s kitchen. Man, he’d backed her smart-mouthed body up to the wall, pinned her in and dared her to do something. That might have been a mistake. Her scent had drifted up to him, the warmth of her body so close, and man, those big, pale blue eyes had shown a flicker of alarm, then gone all… No, he must have imagined it. But he hadn’t imagined the way she’d gone all breathy, the way her fingers curled into his shirt. To be honest, he’d intended to scare her into admitting she needed some help, but then he’d gotten too close, carried away by his anger, and when he’d brushed her cheek with his, breathed into her ear, felt her so warm and soft and at his mercy, it had certainly had his thoughts going a little awry. That had been unexpected.
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