She nodded.
He hoped she would. Independence was one thing, but being injured was another. “Everybody needs help sometimes.”
“Even you?”
He nodded. “Even me.”
“Are you talking about the past now? Because I can’t recall you ever asking for help.”
“Go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”
As he left Jasmine’s house, Aaron tried to stop the memories pouring in, but it was a battle he was always going to lose. There had been times when he’d needed help desperately. When his father had walked out, for instance. He could have done with help then to understand that it wasn’t his fault, that it wouldn’t have made a difference if he’d been a better footballer or a more diligent student. Nothing he could have changed about himself would have stopped his father yearning for a different life.
Yes, he understood this now, but he could have used help at the time to keep his younger self from taking on all the blame.
And when his mother was on a downward spiral of drink and depression, he’d needed help that never came to deal with the fact that she didn’t love him enough to stay alive and healthy. She drank herself to death rather than live without her husband; her son hadn’t mattered. Maybe if he’d known where to turn for help, she could have been saved.
He’d never know now, would he?
The one person who had helped him had been Joe. Too late to undo the damage his parents had caused, but in time to stop him becoming a statistic himself. In time to give him discipline and self-respect and, most importantly, hope.
That hope had been for a future of firefighting and freedom. It definitely hadn’t included a woman who could bring all that he’d worked for crashing down around him just by getting under his skin.
…
Jasmine hadn’t slept well, and as early as she dared the next morning, she phoned Sasha. After Jasmine had finished explaining what had happened the day before, Sasha gasped. “Are you telling me that Aaron undressed you?”
“Not exactly. Just helped with the bottom half. Honestly, it was no big deal.”
Sasha made a disbelieving noise. “Have you forgotten who you’re talking to?”
Jasmine felt her cheeks grow hot again. This was getting ridiculous. She was like a traffic light, always turning red when she least expected it. Luckily, Sasha couldn’t see her. “Okay, I admit it was a big deal to me, but it wasn’t to him. He took it in stride. I might as well have been fully clothed for all the effect it had on him.”
Sasha snorted. “I find that very hard to believe. Maybe he was trying not to embarrass you?”
“I doubt that. This is Aaron we’re talking about. Anyway, let’s stop discussing it. You have to go or you’ll keep Kane waiting.”
Sasha had told her that they were heading to the Barossa Valley for the day. Briefly, Jasmine had envied her the simplicity of her relationship with Kane and wished she could have the same type of relationship with Aaron, but almost as swiftly as the thought had popped up, she slammed it down again. Theirs was a completely different situation. It could never happen.
“Are you sure you don’t need help with anything? I can come over; Kane won’t mind.”
“No, honestly. I can even put weight on my foot today. And anyway, Aaron will be here soon.”
“He’s going to be there all day?” Sasha’s voice had risen to a squeak.
“Don’t read anything into that. We’ll be working.”
“Hmm. Well, call me if you want my help tonight, okay?”
“I don’t expect to. Thanks anyway.”
“Hey, it’s no problem. You’d do the same for me.”
”I have to go,” Jasmine said at the sound of the doorbell. “Aaron’s here.”
Jasmine opened the door to see Aaron aiming his phone at the veranda floor.
“What are you doing?”
He looked up and smiled that twisting, sexy smile that tied her stomach in knots. “Morning. How are you feeling today?”
“Grouchy.”
“Good. Back to normal, then.”
He laughed at the face she pulled. “I’m taking photos of the pattern to bring to the supplier.”
“Hmm.” He looked her up and down, leaving her tingling. “Sasha’s been here?”
“No, I didn’t need any help. Notice something else?” She held out her arms. “No crutch.”
He nodded. “I think you should bring it with you while we go to the tile shop. Your ankle might deteriorate while we’re out.”
“I will.” She swung her bag onto her shoulder, grabbed the crutch, and locked the front door before following Aaron to his car. Her first time in his car since the night of Leanne’s wedding. Memories wrapped around her as she settled in the passenger seat, and she blew out a breath while she waited for him to get in and start the engine. There was only just room to fit the crutch alongside her as she leaned forward to wedge her bag behind her feet. But there was something in the way.
She held up a shoe.
Not just any old shoe—a hot-pink stiletto.
She gave Aaron a raised-eyebrow stare.
“Not mine,” he said. “Not my size.”
“Do you know who it belongs to?”
He glanced at it again, then focused on the road as he maneuvered out of her street. “No, I can’t say I do. Must have been there for a while, though. I haven’t had anyone in the car since…well, for some time.”
She examined it from all sides. “Strange. I thought it would have TGIF printed on it somewhere.”
“Thank God It’s Friday?”
“No. Toes Go In First. That’s about the level of intelligence I expect from someone who’d leave her shoe behind. The pair, I could understand, but not one shoe.”
He shot her an amused glance. “Definitely feeling better today, aren’t you?”
She tossed the shoe into the space behind her. It belonged to a woman who’d sat in this very seat. He’d probably kissed her too. The thought of him kissing another woman didn’t bother Jasmine. Much. Except for the prickly sensation at the back of her throat.
And once he’d kissed her, things would have gotten heated pretty quickly. She knew all about that, and how easy it was to lose one’s mind around Aaron. It was the only way to explain the fact that an expensive-looking stiletto had been mislaid and apparently forgotten. Unless…
“Maybe she left it here deliberately, so that she’d have a reason to see you again.”
“Who?”
“Keep up. The owner of the shoe.”
Aaron parked outside the tile store, and Jasmine waited for him to come around to the passenger side and help her out of the car. She was getting the hang of letting him assist her, even if she was hypersensitive to the touch of his hands balancing her while she sorted out the crutch and her bag.
Inside the store he blew out a breath. “Bet you’re glad I took those photos now.”
She nodded, gazing at the stacks of boxes stretching the length of the large space. “You’re not as stupid as you look.”
“Thanks.” He grinned before heading off to find an employee.
Tiles bought, they drove back to her house, where Jasmine regretted admitting that her ankle was aching a little, as Aaron insisted on her sitting under the tree in the front garden with her leg resting on a stool. She reconsidered that regret when he unbuttoned and removed the cotton shirt he’d worn to the shops. He was sporting an old, well-loved T-shirt beneath it, which was probably a good thing, because his broad, bare back would have been enough to make her squirm.
As it was, her nerves started humming beneath her skin. Unlike her own old and well-loved T-shirts, his wasn’t stretched out of shape, and it didn’t hide the body underneath. It stretched across his muscles as he crouched to examine the task ahead of him more closely. The sleeves seemed to shrink as he reached out to tap the tiles, exposing his smooth biceps and causing a rhythmic thud low in her belly.
God, she was pathetic.
“All right.
I’ll get some tools and start lifting tiles. I’ll be careful and try to preserve as many of the originals as possible, but there could be breakages. Luckily we bought plenty to spare. I might not finish the job today.”
“It doesn’t matter how long it takes.”
“Even if it means having to put up with me for a couple of days?” He smiled at her over his shoulder.
“I can cope with that.” Especially if she was going to have a ringside seat and a good excuse to watch him.
As he worked, she relaxed. The heat of the day combined with the painkiller made her feel pleasantly serene, and the view gave her something to smile about.
…
Glancing across at Jasmine for at least the tenth time, Aaron sat back on his heels. “What are you thinking about?”
“Me? Why should I be thinking about anything?”
“Because something is making you smile.”
“Oh.” Busted. After a moment she said, “I was thinking about the movie last night.”
“Really? You slept through most of it. Which bit were you thinking about?”
“Um…the car chase.”
“Right.” He couldn’t imagine what about it had made her smile. “Have you noticed how whenever there’s a car chase in an exotic location, a fruit stall always gets overturned? Every time.” He shook his head. “Enough with the fruit stalls, Hollywood.”
“Oh, I know, it’s such a cliché. You know another cliché that drives me mad? When the character could walk down a perfectly well-lit street, but she chooses to walk down the dark alley instead. Who, in their right mind, would do that? Or when she’s alone in a house at night and she only thinks to lock the doors after she’s heard a suspicious noise.”
“And we’re supposed to be on the side of these dummies.” He went back to work on the tiles.
“Don’t get me started on the way women always try to run in high heels,” she said, clearly on a roll. “Kick them off, for God’s sake!”
“Yeah.” He looked up. “It annoys me that when anybody is carrying a bag of groceries—paper, plastic, doesn’t matter—you can guarantee there’s always a long baguette sticking out of the top. And if they drop it, there are always oranges.”
“When an aircraft runs out of fuel and crashes, it always explodes as if the tank were full of fuel. What is with that?” She held up her palms. “Do they think we’re stupid or what?”
He laughed. “Plus, when it runs out of fuel, the pilot always taps the fuel gauge as if it’s going to help.”
Her face was alight with humor, and it made his day to see her so happy. He’d put up a fight if anyone tried to wipe the smile off her face. He didn’t analyze his reaction, he just enjoyed the way they clicked on this level.
The task progressed, and he’d nearly finished lifting the broken tiles when he heard a vehicle turn into the driveway. He eyed the four-wheel drive parked behind his own car, then looked at Jasmine. She was biting her lip.
“Do you know who this is?”
“My father.”
He watched with interest as the passenger door and the rear door opened simultaneously.
“Oh, and two of my brothers,” she said as two tall, well-built men got out. Then another car pulled up in the street. “Correction, all four of my brothers, and the girlfriends of two of them,” she said, sounding resigned.
He brushed the cement dust from his hands and straightened. Jasmine was out of her chair and her father, the gray-haired man from the photo in her house, headed over.
“What’s with the crutch?” he asked.
“Sprained ankle, Dad. Nothing serious.”
“Uh-huh. And who’s this?” He jerked his head toward Aaron.
“Aaron. He’s helping me with the tiles.” She looked his way, frowning. “Aaron, this is my father, Bernard.”
All of her brothers had gathered around by this time, and Aaron knew how a gazelle must feel while being eyed by a pride of lions. So this was what it was like to meet a woman’s family. Not something he’d ever experienced—or wanted to experience. A shudder ran down his spine. He wasn’t a coward, he could take anything her father and brothers chose to dish up, but the whole thing was a bit too…intimate for his liking. Meeting the family went with commitment, and that was way out of his comfort zone. After he’d introduced himself, he was out of there.
“Good to meet you, Bernard.” He stepped forward, hand outstretched.
The other man shook his hand, but with an expression that told him he hadn’t been accepted on face value.
Jasmine’s father turned back to her. “You could have asked me if you needed help, Jazzy. Or any of your brothers. You didn’t have to ask a stranger.”
“He’s not a stranger, Dad. We work together. And I didn’t ask, he offered.”
“Why would he do that?” Her father’s eyes narrowed as he shot a suspicious look at Aaron. “What’s he after?”
“I’m returning a favor,” Aaron said with a shrug. “Repaying a debt.”
One by one, the brothers set coolers on the ground. It appeared that they intended to stay for some time.
Jasmine had seen them too. “What are you all doing here?”
Bernard said, “Did you forget your birthday?”
“No, but it’s days away yet.”
“We thought we’d get in early and bring over a barbecue. We wanted to surprise you.”
“You succeeded. But what if I hadn’t been here?”
“You’re always here when you’re not at work, and I knew you weren’t rostered on.”
“Not always.”
“Ah well, we’d have had a wasted trip, but we didn’t so it doesn’t matter, does it? Come on, let’s get the charcoal fired up.”
Aaron waited for the crowd to make its way down the driveway to the back gate, then retrieved the shirt he’d taken off earlier. “I’ll get out of the way. I’ll finish this tomorrow. When is your birthday, by the way?”
“Next Saturday.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t go. Stay and have some lunch. Knowing that lot, they’ll have brought loads of food.”
“I have a feeling your father might object.”
“He can’t. It’s my house, my birthday lunch, my choice who gets to stay. You should know, though, that he’ll probably interrogate you. Just ignore him if he does.”
Yeah, like that will work, Aaron thought, but he nodded. He rather liked the fact that Jasmine wanted him to stay in spite of what her family might think.
…
Jasmine wasn’t sure why she’d been so determined that Aaron should stay, especially since she’d known that her family would see him as a potential boyfriend and do their utmost to embarrass her. Luckily, Aaron didn’t seem to intimidate easily, and as he clearly had no intention of getting involved with her, he was able to deflect most of their questions.
She looked at him now, swapping football stories with her brothers Rob and Mitch, and as had happened almost every time, he seemed to sense her gaze on him and met her eyes. She gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. He crossed his eyes in response. Shaking her head as she turned away, but still grinning, she came face-to-face with her oldest brother, Leon.
“I haven’t made up my mind about him yet,” Leon said. “How serious is this?”
“Not serious at all, Leon. I’ve told you, I’ve told everybody. We. Are. Not. Dating.”
She heard the rasp as Leon ran a hand along his stubbled jaw. “Thing is, Jazzy, he does want to date you.”
Barely able to control her gasp of surprise, she said, “How do you know? Did he say something?”
Leon looked down at her with an amused half smile. “Look at you, as excited as a teenager.”
“I’m not.” A new and unexpected warmth surged from her fingertips to her toes. Could it be true? The thud of her pulse was her only answer, and she needed to know more. She whacked Leon’s arm. “Tell me what he said.”
Leon rubbed his arm, amusement flickering in the eyes
that met hers. “He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. Trust me, a man knows these things.”
“Oh, right, because you’re so sensitive.” She rolled her eyes.
Leon laughed. “I don’t need to be sensitive to see the way he looks at you, and I’m telling you, that man is—“
He broke off as their father joined them. What? Aaron was what? She felt a scream of frustration like a hot ache at the back of her throat, and she tried to listen to her father, she really did, but it was all she could do to keep her gaze from drifting in Aaron’s direction every few moments and wondering—no, in all honesty, hoping—that Leon was right.
Chapter Ten
The impromptu party was winding down and Aaron found himself assigned to table-clearing duties by Liz, Rob’s girlfriend. Arms piled high with plates and debris, he followed her into the kitchen, where she unburdened him, bit by bit.
“You really like her, don’t you?”
Aaron cleared his throat, but before he could trot out his line about Jasmine being a colleague and how he cared about her as much as he cared about any of the team, Liz broke into a grin.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to question you about your intentions,” she said. “I think it’s about time Jasmine found someone. I know she was hurt badly, and I know the guys are really protective of her because of that, but it’s been a long time now.”
He frowned. “What’s been a long time?”
Liz paused, a plate of sausages half-wrapped. “You know…since Craig cheated on her and broke her heart.” She peered more closely at him. “Oh, you didn’t know about that?”
“No. She doesn’t talk about her past.”
“I see.” Liz forced the sausages into the already full fridge. “Better forget I said anything, then.” After slamming the fridge door shut, she swung around to face him. “Word of advice, though. Don’t ever tell her she looks like her mother.”
“I wouldn’t say that. I’ve never even seen a picture of her mother.”
“Oh, right.”
“But if I had, why shouldn’t I comment on a resemblance, if there is one?”
“Because that would be her worst nightmare. Their mother did something bad, and none of them—” She jerked her head toward the back garden. “None of them have forgiven her or recovered from the pain.”
Flirting With Danger Page 9
