Tumble Creek

by Louise Forster

  ‘Hey, sue me, I got distracted. But my questions are important to me.’ Elbows on his chest, Sofie squished his cheeks together, his mouth puckered up like a fish and she couldn’t resist kissing him.

  ‘Babe, bony elbows digging into me,’ he muttered past mooshed lips.

  Sofie let go of his face, flattened out her arms, thrust her hips down and pressed her groin against his erection. ‘Next question,’ she said, matter-of-fact, as if writhing sexily on top of him meant nothing at all. But he could do this, he could rise above it, and quickly locked down his laughter to listen. ‘Any news about Britt, or where she might be?’

  ‘Sorry, Sofe, nothing much.’ Brock slid a hand down between them and adjusted himself. Sofie inclined her head as the corners of mouth tweaked up. Two could play this teasing game, and he bet anything that he’d win. He continued as if nothing was amiss. ‘Britt took all her money, we checked her bank account, it’s empty. She departed Sydney international airport four weeks ago and landed in Stockholm. We lost her after that. She didn’t hire a car, she may have taken public transport or someone picked her up, we don’t know. Sofe, Britt has not committed a crime. She’s an adult, so there’s nothing stopping her from going and doing whatever she pleases. If a close relative had reported her missing, the situation would, perhaps, be taken more seriously. It’s only that Tak is on the force and he has a strong argument so missing persons are keeping her file open … for now. The investigation can’t go on indefinitely with anyone, let alone Britt. In many ways it’s a small world, nevertheless, it’s easy to hide yourself, sometimes in plain sight.’

  Sofie’s eyes grew big, hopeful. ‘You think she’s back in Australia? Or somewhere close by?’

  ‘No, not unless she’s travelling on a false passport.’

  ‘I can’t see Britt doing that, but then desperate times, people take desperate measures.’ Sofie moved her shoulders back and forth, which meant her nipples rubbed against his chest, which made his dick pulse. And the little minx pretended she didn’t feel a thing.

  Brock lost his own bet when he couldn’t take the pressure any longer and lifted her off. Hands under her arms, he set her down on the bed next to his side, and then scooted them both up against the bedhead. He adjusted his erection and balls, curled forward, pulled the covers over them, shoved pillows behind his back and made Sofie comfortable on his chest once again.

  ‘You right now?’ Sofie asked, eyebrows arched.

  ‘Yep, the boys are good.’ She threw her head back and laughed. Another reason he loved Sofie, she laughed a lot. ‘C’mon, Sofe,’ he said through a wide grin, ‘I know there’s more, it’s been building for at least half an hour. No, probably a hell of a lot longer, like days, so c’mon, give.’

  With a sigh, she pulled herself together. ‘There’s just no hiding anything from you.’

  ‘That’s right, not only am I trained to see, but I have an innate radar. My advice, don’t waste your energy.’

  ‘Jeez, okay.’ Sofie’s hand came up his chest, idly stroking across his nipples, then she tweaked them between her fingers, and each time she did, his thick shaft twitched. Brock waited, his patience fraying at the edges. Sofie went on talking as if playing with his nipples didn’t arouse him further than he already was. ‘Jennifer and I are wondering about the photos that were dropped off at Veronica’s. It’s weird someone would do that without knowing there’s some sort of connection with us or Uncle Bob … you know?’ Then her mouth gaped, her face a picture of excitement. ‘What if Uncle Bob was so pressured to be straight that he had an affair and didn’t know he had a son?’

  ‘Anything is possible.’ Brock inclined his head and gave her a look. ‘Don’t get your hopes up, because it’s not likely this bloke will be found unless he comes forward. Sorry, Sofe, I can see you’re disappointed, but that’s just how it is. And I don’t get it either. You done?’

  ‘One more.’

  Chapter 12

  ‘Of course there is, fire away.’ Brock smiled and pressed his forehead against hers. He’d effectively cut off all her distractions, all she could see were his eyes. ‘This is the big one, yeah?’

  ‘You’re a patient man, Brock Stewart.’ Sofie’s warm, soft mouth captured his. He loved the taste of her, loved it when she slid her tongue past his lips. Unfortunately for him, she pulled back before it got too heated. Damn, it was way too late for that, his cock was hard and aching for release. He had said fire away. She’d come this far, leading up to the all-important question, he could see the hesitation, feel her tension.

  He urged her on, ‘Go for it, Sofe.’

  ‘Oh, okay,’ she swallowed. There was no way to make it any easier on her. He gave her a reassuring squeeze. ‘Um …’ Then she went on in a rush, getting it out before she choked. ‘How attached are you to your parents’ house? And if I stay here any longer I want to contribute, you know, pay rent or something.’

  Confused, he jerked his head back. ‘I’m not attached. Where’re you going with this?’

  ‘Just bear with me, otherwise I’ll lose track.’

  Eyebrows up near his hair, he mumbled, ‘I’m not surprised. You’ve thrown me for a loop.’ She had his full attention. He moved them a little higher in order to get a better look at her face. She used the momentum to slide her leg over his hips and straddle him, which was agonising. His shaft twitched and Sofie fixed her gaze on where her groin met his, and smiled.

  ‘There’s a lot of activity going on down there,’ she purred sexily.

  ‘Yeah, ignore it for now,’ he ordered, voice strained.

  ‘Hmm, I’ll try but it’s a bit hard.’ She snort-giggled.

  ‘Sofe,’ he warned, holding back a grin, ‘focus.’

  She sobered and put her serious face on. But he could barely keep his mind on target, with her beautiful naked body sitting astride him. Her lush full breasts, nipples waiting for his mouth. He allowed himself the luxury of sliding his hands over her small waist, lovely swell to her hips and round arse. ‘Babe, house?’

  ‘Okay, well you grew up here. Your parents, especially your mum, need to come here and feel comfortable.’

  ‘Sure, I came here, because obviously Dad didn’t want to sell and under the circumstances couldn’t rent it out. The place would’ve been empty most of the week and though I have a place of my own, I decided to rent it out and stay here until such time Mum can’t leave the nursing home. I’m not always here, once a month I’m on weekend duty. If someone’s off sick or on leave then more often.’ Her soft, blue eyes captured his, they were saying a lot, even if he didn’t know exactly what it was, he hoped it was good. ‘It’s not my life, Sofe.’ And deadly serious, he added, ‘I meant what I said all those weeks ago, we start something, there’s no going back. Which, means we stick together, this house is okay for now, but not for the long term.’

  ‘Okay,’ she swallowed, silently gazing at him, waiting.

  She was gathering her nerve, at least he hoped that’s was it and not some other bullshit going on in her head.

  Then brow furrowed, she popped. ‘What does that mean, exactly?’

  He sighed with relief. ‘It means …’ He cupped her face, and thumbs caressing her cheeks, he studied her before capturing her eyes with his.

  ‘Brock? You’re killing me here,’ she cried out, her cheeks and jaw rubbing against his palms.

  ‘Sorry, Babe, I’m trying to make it special, trying to cover everything I feel, and there’s a hell of a lot.’ He took her hand and pressed her palm onto his chest where she could feel his heart thumping hard against his ribcage. Sofie’s rounded eyes flicked down to her hand, then back to his. ‘But there’s only one way of saying it.’ This was the most important moment of his life, nothing else came close. He tried to relax, tried to ease a smile on his face as his intense eyes held hers.

  ‘Brock, you’re scaring me.’

  ‘Yeah, sorry, not intentional.’ He took in the length of her lovely body, sitting so beautifully across his hips. How
on earth did he become so fucking lucky? Perhaps it was just his turn. Yeah, my turn. That dissolved all his stress; smiling he lifted his gaze and found her eyes. The fingers of his free hand flexed on her cheek. ‘Sofe,’ then he added, slow and deliberate, ‘I love you! You make my soul sing.’

  Sofie stopped breathing, the pulse in her neck accelerated and then her eyes filled with tears. ‘Th-that’s pretty special.’ She moved her hands to either side of his face, took a moment to study him, and said, ‘I love you too. You free my soul. Wild.’ She smiled.

  He probably spent too long gazing into her eyes, but what she’d just said blew him away. ‘That’s deep. I’m lost for words. You love me. Thank Christ!’ Abdominals tightening, Brock curled forward to sit up. Arms tightly around her, and face in her neck, he mumbled, ‘I need a handbook, how to stop my woman from freaking out.’

  ‘It’s easy, just agree to everything she wants.’

  ‘Of course,’ Brock murmured, unable to control his lopsided smile, ‘why didn’t I think of that?’ Then he rotated his hips, his arousal twitched under her, hopefully sending heat into her groin … actually he was pretty damned sure it did.

  She wriggled down onto his thick shaft and whispered in his ear, ‘Really?’

  ‘You do that to me … constantly … only need to look at you.’

  ‘Oh no, how painful for you.’

  He pushed back to look into her eyes. ‘You’re kidding, right? Men live for that. I’d have to be the luckiest man alive.’ And he meant every single word.

  ‘Oh God,’ Sofie whispered.

  ‘And while I’m at it, there’ll be no more talk about paying for anything.’

  ‘But I need to, it’s only fair that I contribute something for staying here.’

  You do, Babe, all the time. I wake and see you, the most beautiful, amazing woman in my bed every morning. It’s almost beyond my comprehension, but there you are.’ He moved his hands out, palms up as if pleading. ‘Do you know what that’s like for me?’ Sofie shook her head. ‘It blows my mind. And not only are you here with me, but I get to make love to you, stick my tongue in your pretty mouth, nip your ear, go down and suck your—’

  ‘Okay—okay,’ Sofie’s voice breathy, she quickly cupped a hand over his mouth.

  Slowly, carefully, he pulled her hand away. ‘Babe, the house,’ Brock reminded. ‘What else is on your mind?’

  ‘I’m building us a home,’ she blurted out.

  Every muscle in Brock’s body stilled. Barely breathing, his eyes hardened as he fixed them on hers.

  ‘Oh fuck,’ she whispered, ‘I’ve rushed in and said the wrong thing. Um … Brock, you don’t have to say anything now, but …’

  Brock lifted her up and threw Sofie on her back. He covered her with his heavy weight, then he kissed her long and hard. Sofie trembled underneath him. Her breath coming fast. Her hands went around his shoulders and into his hair. Awestruck, his breath caught, when she melted under him.

  Then she smiled against his mouth, and said, ‘I guess that’s good then?’

  ‘Yeah, Babe, you said “us”. Hmm, just as long as we do it together … and I’m paying.’

  ‘Oh, really?’

  ‘Yeah really.’ And then to make sure she understood how important it was to him, he kissed all other thoughts, other than what he was doing to her mouth, and her body, out of her mind.

  ***

  Sofie leaned across to the passenger seat and gathered the account files. Hugging them to her chest, she hitched her shoulder bag up, pulled her beanie down over her ears and braced herself for an arctic wind. And sure enough, as she hauled herself out of her car, the icy wind blasted right through her. Sofie shoved the door closed with her hip and ambled down the brick path that wound through the courtyard leading to Veronica’s sunroom. There was always a hint of delicious aromas, but today there was something different, a spicy mouth-watering bouquet. Sofie smiled to herself, thinking if it hadn’t been blowing a gale, the locals and tourists wouldn’t stand a chance, there’d be a stampede into Veronica’s. Grinning, she shouldered open the hallway door, made her way to the kitchen and found Jennifer talking recipes with Elliot. They were both dipping spoons in a big pot bubbling on the burner. Tasting, then conferring.

  ‘Don’t know what you’re creating, but damn it smells great! And I’m starving.’

  ‘Sis!’ Jennifer exclaimed, opened her arms and Sofie walked in for a good old sisterly hug. Jennifer pushed Sofie back and studied her face. ‘How’s …’ she started then trailed off, not fighting the biggest, knowing, grin that lit her face. ‘You’ve had some,’ Jennifer declared. ‘That hunk of a man finally gave it to you and you’re … glowing!’

  ‘Okay, Jen, does the whole town need to know?’

  ‘It’s more than I need to know,’ Elliot put in. ‘I’m not a sensitive new aged man y’ know.’

  ‘Okay, interrogation later, and I want everything.’

  ‘Jesus,’ Elliot muttered. ‘You women are somethin’ else.’

  ‘What? You don’t talk sex with your mates?’ Jennifer asked, sounding all uppity.

  ‘Course not. We brag. Except me, I don’t need to.’ He continued to slice slivers of garlic, concentrating on his work, giving the chopping board a devilish grin. The rogue.

  ‘Shit, you’re scary,’ Sofie mumbled staring at his fingers.

  ‘Nah, I know exactly what I’m doing … Aaaggh!’ Elliot cried out; dropping the knife he grabbed his hand, bent over and held it between his knees. ‘Shit!’

  ‘Oh my God, Elliot!’ Jennifer yelled. ‘Let me see, let me see!’

  ‘Elliot, what a macho stupid thing to do!’ Sofie shouted. Grabbing hold of his wrists she started pulling them away from his legs. Elliot’s shoulders were shaking. Was he in shock? Or was he trying desperately not to laugh?

  ‘Elliot?’ Jennifer asked, sounding suspicious.

  He straightened and opened his hands, palms out. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t resist.’

  ‘You bastard!’ Jennifer picked up a wooden spoon and started belting him with it.

  ‘Hey—ouch!’ Elliot complained, fending her off.

  ‘Never ever do that again, my heart can’t handle it,’ Jennifer told him, giving him another smack.

  ‘That was mean and cruel,’ Sofie said, thumping him on the shoulder.

  ‘Okay, okay, I’ll behave,’ he said, rubbing his arm.

  ‘If you two have stopped mucking around, I’m starving,’ Sofie pointed out, again.

  ‘So that hunk of a man not feeding you?’ Jennifer giggled.

  ‘Oh you have no idea, he ties me up, whips me and if I’m naughty, takes me to bed without dinner.’

  Elliot rolled his eyes and went back to chopping.

  ‘Lucky you!’ Jennifer said, eyebrows arched. ‘I’ll get you a plate of carbonara and smoked mackerel, à la Jamie Oliver. Only we’ve added a special sauce.’

  ‘Of course you did, can’t help yourself, got to fiddle.’ Sofie giggled, and moved out of their way. She chose a table nearest the kitchen and opened her file to hand Jennifer the monthly accounts, when a bowl of steaming food was placed under her nose. She took a couple of mouthfuls and swooned. ‘Hmm-hmm, heavenly. Any left? Brock would go for a bowl of this. He’s meeting me here in about half an hour.’

  ‘Sure, we can do that for him.’ Jennifer smiled, turned to Elliot who’d poked his head out the kitchen door and gave him the thumbs up; he gave her a wide toothy grin and duck away again. Jennifer turned back to Sofie. ‘How’re the house plans coming along?’ she asked, pulling a chair out to sit opposite.

  ‘Fantastic!’ Sofie mumbled around a mouthful, then chewed and swallowed. ‘I’m beginning to narrow down my options.’ And she wasn’t going to mention that Brock was a big part of it, not yet anyway; first Claudia needed to know. And Brock would have to speak to his dad. Perhaps she’d have her sister and Calum over for dinner. ‘Come over for dinner and … oh bugger, that won’t work, will it?’

  ‘Not at
the moment. But I’m working on it, I’m so ready to cut back. I’ve already talked to an agent and she’s keeping an eye out for the right person to take on the busiest nights at Veronica’s. So hopefully it won’t be too long before I have some time for myself and Calum.’

  The restaurant door opened and a young man walked in.

  Nothing unusual about that, except tourists and locals alike walked in happy, expectant, but this guy nervously glanced around.

  Sofie nudged Jennifer under the table with her foot. Jennifer turned to look over her shoulder, then back to Sofie. ‘What?’

  ‘This could be the one. He looks like a chef,’ Sofie whispered enthusiastically.

  ‘Nope, he’s way too young.’ Jennifer sounded a little disappointed. ‘Anyway, whoever decides to apply will make an appointment through the agency.’

  Sofie glanced over her sister’s shoulder. ‘That’s true.’ Leaning forward over her bowl, she added, ‘He’s very cute though. I’m thinking he doesn’t know where to sit. Anyway, something’s up with him.’

  Jennifer shrugged, stood and walked over to greet the nervous young guy. ‘Hi there, would you like a late lunch or afternoon coffee?’

  He’d walked in wearing nothing more than a long-sleeved T-shirt, and fabulous soft leather boots, mostly hidden under his snug jeans. He was tall, at least six four, and powerfully built; he obviously worked out, stayed healthy. He had all that going for him, yet the poor bloke wasn’t sure what to do or say. Sofie studied his face—masculine jaw, dark grey eyes, straight nose, and strong cheekbones—he was handsome, not ruggedly so, but that would come with maturity. Claudia and Michelle would say he was hot. Probably smoking hot.

  Then he spoke and his voice matched his big frame, deep, but quietly booming with an English accent. ‘If it’s no trouble, a meal would be great.’ Impossible, but there was something familiar about his voice, his manner, his body language.

  ‘Well, it so happens we just finished experimenting on a new recipe. My sister, Sofie over there, tells me she’s enjoying ever mouthful, so I’m guessing it’s good.’