About as unexpected as…
“Hurry up, Del. I’m about to do something to you.”
“Oh sweet mother mercy, yes please.”
Yep, as unexpected as that.
Elbow propped on the arm rest, head turned partially as he tracked Mozart’s progress around the room with a lazy gaze, Moz stroked his chin with thumb and forefinger. Yeah, her response had been very bloody unexpected.
Even more unexpected? The hot zing through his loins at her breathy moan. He couldn’t believe she’d moaned that, couldn’t believe he’d felt that, and then everything had gone from disbelief from both of them - yes, both - to a semblance of normalcy.
All Moz could do was keep going with his first intention and leave what had happened to ponder later. Probably not a good idea to ponder it now. He could do it in bed tonight. Where no one would see him get a boner.
Wait. What? He blinked. Boner?
Before he could think further, Elissa strode into the room carrying a large plate of home made biscuits.
The freshly baked smell had Simon instantly alert. “Oh, sweetheart.” He stood, taking the plate from her, dropping a kiss on her smiling mouth. “You always know when I need food.”
“Not very hard,” Ryder said. “That’s pretty much always.”
“The way to a man’s heart and all that.” Elissa winked.
“Have you told Dee that?”
“Dee has you already. All she had to do was offer you sex.”
Moz choked on his mouthful of biccie. Coughing and spluttering, he grabbed Scott’s can of Coke and swallowed. It took a full minute before he could blink the tears from his eyes and clear his throat enough to croak, “I did not hear my little sister say that!”
“Yeah, you did.” Simon grinned. “Your sweet, innocent, little sister is full of surprises.”
“I don’t want to hear.” Hells bells, he so did not want to hear.
“Hot surprises.”
Elissa blushed but dimpled up at Simon. The sick bastard kissed her again, right after he threw Moz a sly wink.
“Do you mind?” Moz brushed the crumbs off his shirt.
“Not at all.” Simon took a mouthful of biccie. “Oh, Lis, sweetheart, you have magic fingers.”
For a second Moz didn’t know if Simon meant for baking or something more nefarious. “If you say anything further, I’m going to rip your head off.”
“That’d upset Elissa.” Simon smiled sweetly. “Your baby sister.”
“I’ll find a way to cheer her up after. Give her a ticket to the policeman’s ball or something to find a new man.”
Elissa rested her head against Simon’s arm. “He’s all the man I want, Moz.”
“You might want a loan of my vomit bag,” Ryder said to Moz.
“I’ll need a whole bucket if Simon keeps this up.”
Scott stood and stretched. “As amusing as this all is, I need to get a move on. I promised Ash I’d mow the lawns.”
“So whipped,” Ryder drawled. “Ring on the finger, ring through the nose.”
“You’ve got a ring through your tit, what does that say?”
“It’s actually through my manly nipple, you ignoramus, and I’ve had it since I was a teenager. That says I’m a rebel.”
“The rebel who actually ran out of his mother’s house when she found out and slept on the floor in my room because he was too scared to go back home.”
“Hey, I’m not arguing that. We all know my Mum. I’m just lucky she didn’t rip it right out.”
They all winced in sympathy.
“I’m surprised she didn’t,” Simon said. “What happened?”
“Dad talked her around.” Ryder gave a lewd wink. “If you know what I mean.”
“Only too well.” Scott gave them all a wave. “Bye.”
Ryder waited until he left before turning his attention back to Moz. “So, what’s up with you and Del?”
Trust that jerk. Moz scowled at him.
“The man’s got a death wish,” Simon informed Elissa.
She looked at her brother with interest. “You and Del? What’s with you and Del?”
“Nothing.”
“So why did Ryder mention Del and you?”
“Because he’s an idiot.”
Her gaze became calculating. “Have you got a thing going with Del?” Her eyes widened. “And she didn’t tell me? Wait, you didn’t tell me?”
“Before you get carried away, sis, there is nothing going on between us.”
“He had words with her,” Ryder told Elissa helpfully. “They clashed.”
Moz pointed at him. “You’re a dead man walking, ambo man. I’m warning you.” He turned back to Elissa. “I was just concerned about her safety, nothing more. I had a word to her about her locks.”
“Which reminds me.” Ryder smiled widely. “How did you see the locks in her house? You had to be inside for that.”
“I saw them, all right? There’s nothing-”
“You mean Del just invited you in to check all her locks? My my.”
Moz narrowed his eyes. “I could squash you like a bug.”
“Why were you in Del’s house?” Elissa queried.
“I was just concerned for her safety-”
“She’s in danger?” Horrified, Elissa looked up at Simon then back at Moz. “What happened?”
Good grief. “Nothing happened, all right?”
“He saw her on the roof,” Ryder said.
The bastard just didn’t know when to shut up.
“For crying out loud! Elissa, I saw her on the roof, went to have a word to her, happened to go inside and notice the locks on the windows.”
“All the windows?” Ryder put his finger tip to the corner of his mouth. “Including her bedroom window?”
Elissa’s eyes went wide. “You and Del?”
“No! Not me and Del! I just noticed she had her security doors unlocked, was concerned, checked all the locks - you stay out of this, you smirking bastard.” Moz jabbed a finger in Ryder’s direction, effectively silencing his next unhelpful comment, and looked back at his sister. “I noticed they were rusty and flimsy and Simon informed me that she should have changed them. Which, dickhead,” he pointed again at Ryder, “you didn’t follow up on.”
“Yeah, but I’m going to.”
“When? Next week?”
“Damn it.” Ryder shoved to his feet. “No. I’ll do it now.”
“But the shops are shut.” Moz folded his arms, unable to help but feel a little smugness when the ambo’s eyes narrowed.
“I’ll check the locks myself, ream her a new one, and organise a time for me to go over and fit new locks.” Ryder flipped him the bird. “Arse.”
“Yeah, but at least I’m an arse who thought to check.”
Ryder glared at him. “I’d take you down but Elissa wouldn’t like it.”
Moz gave a bark of laughter.
~*~
Pulling in behind the row of shops, Del got out, locked the door and headed to the newsagent back door belonging to her cousin. Walking in through the back door, she shut it securely before continuing through the small open area into the kitchenette. The door was open, which meant that Jezebel and her now-grown kittens were all at Ryder’s house.
Del shook her head. Ryder and Dee were married, yet the flat above the newsagent they still classed as hers, while the house Ryder rented from his parents they both classed as his. And their combined belongings were in both. Go figure. Even the cats were carted from house to flat, depending on where they were spending the night according to Ryder’s shift work.
Still, that was Ryder and Dee.
Speaking of Ryder…
Moving through the little kitchenette where she had lunch almost every day with Dee and their friends, Del walked down the aisle to see her cousin going through some paperwork as she leaned on the counter.
“Hey.” Dee didn’t even look up, her pen ticking something off on the paper.
“You need
to do something about your husband.” Del dropped her small shoulder bag on the counter right on top of the paper.
Dee pushed the bag aside. “What did dumb arse do now?”
“As if you don’t know.”
Leaning her forearms on the counter, Dee looked up at Del. “Ah, the great window locks saga.”
“Ryder came storming over to my house demanding to look at the window locks.” Still annoyed, Del drummed her fingers on the counter top. “I told him to jump in the lake.”
“That didn’t go too well, did it?”
“Can you believe that he just went right past me and proceeded to check my windows?”
“No,” Dee drawled. “Really?”
“Then he proceeded to tear strips off me. Me! I mean, what the hell, Dee? It’s my house!”
“Tsk tsk tsk.”
Del’s eyes narrowed. “He informed me that today he was going to fit new locks onto every window.”
“Well, that inconsiderate jerk.”
“You need to sort him out.”
“That Ryder, such a bad person. Fancy daring to replace your locks.”
“If I want it, I’ll ask for it.”
“Honestly, he has no compassion.”
“You keep that crap up, Dee Miller, and I will take you down.”
Dee looked her up and down. “You and what army?”
“Don’t push it this morning.” Del scowled. “It’s about time these men started to realise that I don’t have to take this over-bearing, protective shit from them.”
Dee angled her head, studying her intently.
“You know, it’s my life, my house. I can replace those locks when I’m damned good and ready.” Del glared out the window.
“So what are you going to do about it?” Dee asked. “You know Ryder won’t back down. Those locks are going in.”
Yeah, those damned locks would be sitting there on her windows, all shiny and new and secure. Shiny and new and an expense that right now, while she could afford it at a pinch, she hadn’t planned on just yet. If ever. Damn it. Damn it.
Del rubbed her brow.
Dee straightened, concern flickering across her pretty face. “Del? Is everything all right?”
“No. I’m pissed off.”
“Cripes, it’s just some locks. To be fair, the ones you have are buggered. You were supposed to have them changed when you first bought that decrepit old shack.”
“Yeah, well…” Del moodily kicked the toe of her shoe against the bottom of the counter.
It was true, she had told the boys she’d have the locks changed. But her Dad hadn’t gotten around to it, time had slipped past and she hadn’t worried about it. Now and again she’d thought about it when she’d flick the locks in place so that the windows were partially open to allow fresh air in at night, but then something else always came up and it just never got done.
Then Moz came along. Came along, walked in with that take-charge attitude, rattled her nerves, dampened her panties, and then dobbed her in to the blokes. Yesterday Scott had called past on his way home to give her a talking to, Ryder had torn a strip off her, Simon dared to phone her and then Kirk had called in, looking all officious in his uniform with the sergeant’s stripes. By then she’d been so pissed off that she’d asked him if he wanted to arrest her then and there. He’d just given her that quiet, calm look that had her feeling like a heel.
That’s right. She felt like a heel for being so mad, knew she was being bitchy, but damn it, she had reasons. She hated her carefully constructed budget to be altered, and she certainly didn’t want her friends to know that or they’d want to do things for her. That was sweet, sure, but not her way. She liked helping others, wasn’t so good at accepting it herself.
“You’re taking this a little personally, aren’t you?” Dee watched her closely. “You know the blokes, this is just their way of showing they care.”
“Yeah, I know.” Exhaling loudly, Del shoved her hand through her hair. “I know.”
“Normally you’d come stomping in here, but…” Dee studied her even closer. “This has really got you upset, hasn’t it?”
“Upset? No. Shitty? Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s my house.”
“Your friends, most of whom you grew up with, are just looking out for you.” Dee shook her head. “And everyone says I’m the bitch.”
Shame trickling in, Del looked sideways at her. What Ryder had done wasn’t any different to what he and Scott had done all their lives, looking out for her and Dee. They’d been friends since they were all crapping their nappies. When Simon and Kirk had come along, their very natures had them falling into the same pattern of not only friendship but caring as well. They were more like big brothers than friends. Their over-protectiveness had annoyed her at times, but not like this.
Not like this because now it was a little different. Not in the friendship way, that didn’t change, but her little secret budget made it harder at times. Such as now.
“Is everything okay, Del?”
She looked at Dee. Concerned, her cousin was dissecting her with her all-seeing eyes. She knew Del better than anyone, would be the one most likely to find out. Not happening. Del had her pride.
And damn it, she wasn’t bitch enough to take it out on her friends. Her problem, she had to deal with it.
Straightening her shoulders, she sighed. “I’m fine. You’re right, they’re only helping as usual. Just, you know, Ryder can be such an arse when he goes off.”
Dee didn’t look mollified, her gaze still searching.
Oh boy, had to stop that.
Leaning forward, Del gestured to her.
Dee, curious, leaned forward, although no one was in the newsagency to hear them.
“Moz Baylon is the cause of all this.”
“I heard about that,” Dee said. “What’s going on with you and Moz?”
“What?”
“You and Moz.” Dee poked her finger in Del’s shoulder. “How come you didn’t tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
“You and Moz getting together.”
“What?” Del blinked. “We’re not together.”
“He was in your bedroom.”
“He was in my whole house!”
“Yeah, that’s what I heard.”
“He came into my house uninvited!”
Dee smirked.
The truth hit Del, her eyes narrowed. “You really are a bitch.”
“Baby, I own that title.”
Shaking her head, Del picked up her shoulder bag. “I better open up before the horde knock down my door.”
Dee looked past her to the quiet street. “Yep, can’t see through the crowd.”
“See you at lunchtime.”
Entering the back of the clothes store, Del locked the security screen and looked around. To the left was the room where new stores came in to be sorted and priced before being put out for sale. On the right was her small office complete with desk, computer and filing cabinet. A spare chair sat next to the filing cabinet.
Slipping her shoulder bag into the bottom drawer of the desk, she sat in the big swivel chair she now owned along with the rest of the shop and took a deep breath. She loved the shop. Loved her shop. She’d worked in it alongside her parents since she was old enough to learn how to hook clothes onto coat hangers. Most nights after school she’d do her homework in the back of the shop at the same desk she now sat at then helped in the shop, and as she got older she’d work in the shop first then do her homework at home after dinner.
Picking up a pen, she twirled it between her fingers. Most school holidays she worked in here, earning pocket money, learning the trade from her parents. It was a natural step to work in the shop full time when she left school, then gradually her parents retreated, first her mother then her father, until she ran the shop alone. And she loved it, choosing the clothes, ordering for people, measuring people, ordering in special sizes and styles for those who
wanted or needed them. Keeping up with the fashions from the city while maintaining the everyday clothes working country people of various trades required. She had a specialized section for outdoor workers, including reflective vests and pants, and eight months ago she’d introduced more shoes. Boots, sandals, thongs, fancy shoes, every day footwear, she kept a selection of all sizes and styles along the side and back wall.
Thankfully her father had extended the shop years before, he just hadn’t made good use of the space. But now the store was hers, she made use of every bit of space.
Mine. Del ran her fingertips along the smooth, worn wood of the old desk. It was all hers. Every little bit. When her father had mentioned wanting to retire, she’d jumped at the chance to buy it. He’d wanted to give it to her, but Del wouldn’t have it, insisted on buying it. Her parents were no fools. They knew she’d made it worth more than they had so they, in turn, had insisted on setting the price. It had been way less than it was worth, but when her father had dragged out the books he’d kept for all those years and shown her the increase in sales since she’d taken over and yes, that they’d profited from, she hadn’t been able to argue the maths. She’d bought the shop and it was all hers.
Tipping her head back, she looked up at the ceiling. All hers. She’d used the last of her savings to pay for it, it was hers lock, stock and barrel. But she hadn’t counted on buying it right at that time, had been caught off-guard by her parent’s decision. But it was done.
She wanted it. She owned it. She didn’t owe a bank anything for the store. But she hadn’t been ready to buy it so soon after buying her house. The old house that had been an almost giveaway price because it was so dilapidated. It was more the land for which she was in hock.
The money pit.
Sighing, Del tapped the pen against the desk top. She’d planned on renovating the old house with her savings, not using her savings to buy the shop. She didn’t regret it, no, but now money was a little tight. She’d managed to stock-pile some money for emergencies, but now she was trying to rebuild her savings account to a decent level. She was almost there, but not quite yet. Things like a new roof were well out of reach for at least another six months, she’d been relying on silicone for the holes, and new locks just hadn’t been in the budget. It had taken months for her to save for the new lino, and that she’d gotten cheap from a sale in Ellor’s Loop. Now the locks.
You're the One Page 5
