Heart Note

by Cassandra O'Leary

  “Right.”

  Christos paused mid-stride and nodded at Marco. “De Millo. I’ll be up to talk to you tomorrow at eleven. Don’t forget.”

  Marco mumbled something like, “Yes, officer.”

  Very interesting. I’d never noticed any tension between the two men before. Had I even heard them speak to each other? No. They stared at each other for an uncomfortable few seconds, before Christos tugged on my arm.

  I tipped my chin up to meet his gaze. “Don’t you like Marco?”

  “I like him enough to work with him.”

  I raised an eyebrow at Christos. “Hmmm. Not really then?”

  “Not in the way he likes you.” His eyes wrinkled up at the corners so I wasn’t sure if he was being serious.

  This was interesting. I’d never noticed the way Christos’s eyebrows cinched together until now. Or the way his jaw clicked when he clenched it.

  We marched across the huge car park, avoiding a Mini squealing around a traffic island. Finally we made it to the undercover, multi storey monstrosity where most staff parked their cars. This was another reason I was glad to walk to work. These places creeped me out. The distinctive aroma of urine permeated the concrete stairwell. The overflowing dumpster near the wall was best left well alone.

  “This is me.”

  So proclaimed Christos, as he clicked the electronic key to unlock a snazzy-looking sports car, not a modern deal with lots of gizmos and doohickeys, but a sleek, low to the ground 1970s number. It was deep electric blue and shiny, too. Nice. Clearly, I knew a lot about cars.

  I waved my arm in the general direction of the passenger door. “This is very sexy. Quite the chick magnet I suppose?”

  Christos cleared his throat. “It’s a Monaro GTS.” As if this was explanation enough.

  He opened the passenger door for me. I couldn’t miss the way his eyes followed the length of my stocking-clad legs all the way to my Mary Janes, but he averted his gaze as soon as I caught him staring. That look. I’d like to wrap it up with a bow and pop under the Christmas tree to enjoy later.

  He let me get seated then closed the door. New car fragrance enveloped me. The combination of leather and an astringent hint of citrus reminded me of Christos. His usual scent was magnified in some way in this enclosed space. I could have happily rolled around in it for hours.

  Then he was there beside me, the door snicked shut and we were sitting side by side. Together. In his car. All words deserted me, since all I could think about was the way his thighs looked splayed out in front of him.

  He turned the key in the ignition while I buckled my seatbelt. The roar of the engine shook me to the core...and I mean literally. Everything in the lower half of my body vibrated and hummed with the rumble of the engine under my seat. I smoothed my hands down my skirt and kicked my handbag out of the way so I could cross my legs. Which was uncomfortable.

  I shot Christos a sneaky glance under my lashes and noticed him noticing me. Again.

  This time, he grinned. Hokey cliché or not, it was like the sun popping out on a cloudy day, beaming at me, radiant and sparkly.

  “Ready?” he asked, but revved the engine and changed gears before I could answer.

  A minute later we were out of the car park, onto the highway on one side of the shopping centre. Christos zipped and merged into the stream of traffic, while I clung to the door handle. I didn’t like city traffic. Not since the accident...

  “I guess I should ask you where you live.” Christos broke the train of my thoughts, which were close to derailing and crashing through a level crossing.

  No, no, no.

  Don’t think about it.

  I shook my head, more vigorously than I meant to, then shook out my hands for good measure.

  Christos was glancing at me, in between looking back at the road. No way was I ready to explain my aversion to traffic. Especially considering the way I’d freaked out at the sight of a little blood today. I didn’t want him to label me a complete fruitcake and yet refuse to take a bite out of me.

  “...or I could take you to a doctor? Get your cut looked at again? But I think it’s okay. No need for stitches.”

  I pasted a smile on my face which strained the muscles in my cheeks. It may have actually looked more like a grimace, judging by the startled rise of Christos’s eyebrows.

  I pressed my lips together for a second. “I’m fine. You can drop me home. Laurinda Lane, down past the big high school. Turn left at the next intersection.”

  Wordlessly, Christos followed my directions. Until we got to my little street, which was a quiet, winding lane, tucked away near a park full of gorgeous old trees and walking tracks. Perfect for someone who didn’t want to drive. It was only a hop, skip and jump to a tram stop or a train station too.

  I nodded towards the end of the lane. “My place is down there on the left. Number 32.”

  He nodded, pulling up on the side of the street just near my teeny tiny front lawn and owl-shaped letterbox. I’m not sure who picked out the letterbox, a past owner I suppose, but I loved it.

  “Thanks for the lift home.”

  Christos nodded as he killed the engine. He glanced past me to my little house. It was half a house converted to an apartment, sort of late Art Deco style with clinker bricks and cute leadlight windows beside the red painted front door. A tiny patch of lawn and a few old rosebushes faced the street near the low brick fence.

  He didn’t make a move to get out of the car, so neither did I. Should I kiss him? The galumphing of my heart was enough to make me slow down and think twice. There was no need to attack the man.

  I occupied my time with stressing. What if Christos wanted to come inside? I was attracted to him, no question. But was I ready to get physical if the opportunity came up? A flash of pain tore through my stomach, a pain I thought was long gone. I crossed my arms across my mid-section and breathed deep. I’d thrown myself at my ex, right after Dad died. He’d rejected me, in the cruellest way. Just thinking about it made my belly ache again.

  My ex-boyfriend Scott hadn’t hung around once the going got tough. He’d got off the phone as soon as he could on the most horrible day of my life, feigning a work deadline as he’d done so many times before. I’d needed him. He’d skedaddled so fast I’d had no time to adjust.

  I tried to call him two days after Dad’s accident, but he dumped me by text message. His behaviour wouldn’t have hurt so much, except I had loved him, in my own deluded way. I was self-aware enough to understand I sometimes pushed aside the evidence of someone else’s dishonesty or bad behaviour.

  Scott had shown how he felt in so many ways, but if you don’t want to see it, it’s not going to be obvious. Until it’s all over, red rover.

  A click of a seatbelt buckle pulled me back to the present moment. Christos turned to run his eyes over me. Concern was etched across his forehead in even lines.

  “So, why did you leave the police force?” I didn’t mean to ask the question, but it popped out of my mouth.

  He chuckled under his breath, then ran his fingertips along his jaw line. A scratchy sound of friction against stubble had the tiny hairs on my arms standing on end. “Everyone knows about that, do they?”

  I shrugged, squirming in my seat. I shouldn’t have asked. Of course not. If I wasn’t so distracted with my own past and rubbish boyfriends, I wouldn’t have been so rude.

  He cleared his throat. “No harm filling in the blanks. I was on the force for five years, did my job, helped people, I guess. Tried to do some good. One day my partner and I were called out to a situation. An armed robbery in progress. We should have waited for more back-up, but we were right round the corner from the jewellery store. There were five of them. Only two of us. The same guys we’d been investigating for a couple of other low-level break and enters. This time they’d upped their target.”

  He paused, looking straight ahead through the windscreen. “I should have known they’d take more risks with a bigger score at stake. The
y had a hostage. I knew her. She was an old friend, Effie. She had a gag over her mouth. When I walked in the back room of the store I saw her straight away. They knew I was coming.”

  I gasped, not liking where this story was going. Not one little bit. The robbers had his friend as a hostage? It was the stuff of nightmares.

  Christos threaded his hands together and cracked his knuckles. “I had to get her out of there. I hit the first guy. One punch and he went down. I shot the second one. Got him in the stomach.”

  “Oh, no. That must have been terrible. Were you hurt?”

  He nodded, then let out a slow breath. “Yeah. A bullet lodged in my knee. I had surgery, so it’s okay now. Mostly. I wasn’t much good for a regular beat though. A desk job at police headquarters wasn’t my scene. But the security job isn’t good for my knee either.” He rubbed his knee absent-mindedly.

  “What about Effie?”

  Christos shook his head. “What happened next messed with my head. The bastard slashed her face with a knife right after I was wounded. My partner helped her, called an ambulance. But I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t save her.”

  Now it was my turn to gasp. “Did she die?”

  “No. But that bastard...he was her boyfriend. Now he’s her husband.”

  I swung around to look him square in the face. His whole face had sagged with resignation, gone slack around his mouth.

  I almost reached out and almost touched his shoulder. Almost. “You did your job. No one could ask any more.”

  “I asked more of myself. I failed.” He stared straight ahead and didn’t seem to see me at all.

  Before I knew what I was doing, or before I freaked out about a man not liking me as much as I liked him, as per usual, I reached out and placed my hand over his. The hand now resting on his thigh.

  He shifted, moving towards me, coming closer. So close I was inside his wrap-around layer of warmth, his addictive scent drawing me in.

  His body whispered to mine: closer, closer.

  Mine whispered in response: yes please, yes please.

  His lips met mine, first touching with a brush of his lips, then more fully owning my mouth. I opened my lips, just a touch. His tongue brushed mine, just a taste. His hands were on my hips, gripping me, squeezing me, not too tight, just right. He groaned into my mouth.

  A noise rose out of my chest like harrumph, and I knew. This man could kiss me all day long and never get tired of it, or complain I was boring. He wouldn’t call me too needy or greedy. Christos was greedy for my kisses and I loved it.

  My heart pounded away like a disco diva on the dance floor. The song playing low on the radio swirled through my mind, a great track. Heart of Glass by Blondie. All I could think was...finally. Finally I’d found him.

  Then, what the hell? Clunk. My knee connected with the gearstick in the centre console and I yelped. I leaped away from Christos as if I’d been stung by a bee. I bit my lower lip, which was suddenly swollen.

  The man could kiss. But should I invite him inside? In the middle of the afternoon? Before we’d even been out to dinner? I was apparently becoming a kiss first, ask questions later kind of woman.

  These dilemmas never usually happened to me. I’d normally be lucky to get a hint of interest somewhere down the road, after the third or fourth date. Too many blokes gave me the whole ‘you’re a great girl, but let’s be friends’ speech at that point.

  I flicked my gaze to Christos’s face. His eyes fixed on my face in intense concentration. On my lips, truth be told. A thrilling development.

  He shifted sideways so he could look me straight in the eyes. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the day in training when you fell into my arms.”

  Oh, boy. Had he really been scoping me out the way I’d been (ever so sneakily) checking him out? How should I respond? “Really? Um, thank you.”

  He chuckled. “No, thank you. You’re a beautiful woman. Brave and smart too.”

  Heat rose to my cheeks until I’m sure they were painted as red as my hair. “You’re a flatterer. But as my gran used to say, flattery will get you everywhere.”

  Everywhere?

  I shouldn’t have said that. I was a complete nong. He probably thought I was a rampant man-eating bonk-aholic. Which was so far from the truth I didn’t even know where to start digging myself out of the conversational hole.

  Christos simply smiled in his sparkly way. He reached for my hand. The injured hand. I’d completely forgotten about it. He held my fingers gently, stroking his thumb across the underside of my palm in such a way...random sparks of fabulousness shot straight to my much-neglected Female Zone. It was capitalised in my mind in much the same way as an unexplored region on a half-drawn map of the world long ago. It might have been marked: Uncharted Territory or There Be Dragons.

  Christos let go of my hand and sighed. “I’d better get you inside. I have to get going too. Family dinner.”

  It was funny how a good kiss could distract you from pain. Or completely rattle you, so you forget what you were doing sitting in a virtual stranger’s car. Except Christos didn’t feel like a stranger. Not anymore. Maybe he never did.

  I sucked in a breath and grabbed my handbag. “Come in for a coffee?”

  He hesitated, but only for a microsecond. “Sure, I’d love to.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Come in.” I opened the front door, giving it a swift kick because it was old. The wood panel tended to jam in the frame.

  Christos was right behind me, and I mean right up close. I thought he was going to touch me, maybe place his hand on the small of my back in the shiver-inducing way I liked. But no such luck.

  I heard a noise. A random note of a keyboard, over and over. My housemate was home.

  It was a pity I had to share the house, at least some of the time. Luckily he travelled a lot for work, being a musician, so I didn’t see him often. Our schedules were opposite, since I worked mostly days and he worked mostly nights. So we didn’t actually see much of each other and we each had a sense of privacy. Except neither of us brought anyone home. Not anyone who might stay overnight, at least.

  This could be awkward. I closed the door behind us, Christos craning his neck towards the bedroom down the hall. He’d obviously heard the noise too.

  “Sorry, I didn’t know he’d be here. Bill usually works nights so I don’t see him much.”

  He cleared his throat. “That must be difficult.”

  “Not really. It’s not like we hang out together all the time. Except when we go to bed. This place is our crash pad, I suppose.”

  Christos’s eyebrows shot up, his whole body tensed, like he’d gone into fight-or-flight mode. He was acting weird, for sure. “I better get going. Mum’s expecting me. Family dinner, you know.”

  I didn’t try to hide the disappointment from my voice. “Oh, okay. If you really have to go...”

  He nodded, already heading for the door. “I really have to go.”

  “Let me just get you a coffee. After all...” Should I mention the kiss? My instincts shouted a definite, NO! See what happens, don’t mention it, don’t try for a date or hook-up. Not yet. I didn’t want to jinx it. “You helped me. Fixing up my hand, and giving me a ride home.”

  Christos stopped and stared at me for a second. Stared through me, since his attention seemed to be caught by the same note of the keyboard, echoing down the hall. “Glad to help. See you at work, Lily.”

  He slammed the door behind him, the sound marking time like the end of something. An episode of my romantic life, cut short, before it even got to the good bits. Before he got to see my good bits.

  I sagged against the door and let out a noise of my own. Pure frustration, plus a healthy dose of confusion. What had got into Christos all of a sudden?

  Then Bill poked his head through the bedroom door, where he was clearly visible, standing near his keyboard. Wearing only a too-small blue towel slung around his hips. Otherwise naked.

  Not exactly the i
mpression I was going for. Christos must have seen him. Oh no!

  Christos thought I had an older, hairier, musician layabout housemate/boyfriend. This was only partly the truth.

  In actual fact, I had an older, hairier, musician layabout uncle, soon to move to the US and sublet his house to me for bargain-basement rent. Uncle Bill was the cool one in the family. He never stuck around much when I was a kid, but now he was coming through for me.

  I was grateful to Bill, truly. Just not at that exact moment.

  This wasn’t good. Not good at all. Christos would hate me now.

  Kissing him one minute, leading him into my love nest with half-naked older dude the next.

  Bill lifted one hand in a friendly wave. “Hi there, kiddo. How was work?”

  I sighed, and even to my own ears I sounded a hundred years old. “Oh, fine. Except for the part when it was a disaster.” I shuffled into the living room, kicked off my high heels and dumped my bag on the coffee table. My bottom landed in the centre of the green velvet sofa.

  I held up my bandaged hand for Bill’s benefit. “I had a little accident. Wrapping presents, would you believe?”

  Bill shook his head, his greying hair escaping from his hippie-style ponytail at the nape of his neck. “Ah, kiddo. That’s rough. Let me make you a coffee. White with one, right?”

  I sank down into the sofa cushions and closed my eyes. “Right. But make it a glass of wine. A large one, thanks.”

  THE NEXT FEW DAYS SAILED by as if I’d never even met, let alone kissed a man named Christos. When I say sailed by, the days sailed along smoothly, but the nights were full of choppy seas and undertows, with strange dreams pulling me under. Waking memories of Christos kissing me left me shaken up. By day I was going through the motions and sighing.

  Today was no different. I sat at the low table behind the perfume counter, adding up our weekly sales against targets. Doing busy work, in other words.

  Christos was avoiding me. I tried to catch his attention, glancing up from my mind-numbing book work and waving at him across the floor. I even succeeded in getting him to look at me. He looked back blankly, as if he didn’t know who I was. Or didn’t want to know. Then he marched off in the opposite direction.