Hold On to Me

by Victoria Purman

  She cocked her head at him. ‘Thank you.’

  When Luca returned from the bar and set their drinks on the table, Stella was taking in the view across Middle Point beach in the fading light. He didn’t give it any attention. His view across the table was so much better.

  She lifted her glass to clink with his. ‘Here’s cheers.’ She sipped it, licked her top lip, and looked him right in the eye. ‘So, Luca Morelli. Talk.’

  If all the blood hadn’t rushed to his dick, he would have. Instead, Luca tried not to think about tugging that shimmering dress up her thighs and what, if anything, she was wearing underneath. He took a good gulp of his beer.

  ‘We need to map out where you want the power points, if any of them need shifting. You might want to move the counter, let’s say, and we’ll need to accommodate that. Did you want different lighting in the change rooms? Where do you want the change rooms and do you want to add more? Drop lights or LED? Shelving—fixed or freestanding? Hanging racks—suspended from the ceiling or on wheels?’

  ‘Oh.’ He’d stunned her into near silence. She blinked. ‘You do want to talk about work.’

  ‘Of course I do.’ And then he waited. Held the moment while she stared at him. He lowered his voice and leant in. ‘Why else would I have asked you out for a drink?’

  Well well. Was the picky and the bossy and the holding-on-too-tight Stella Ryan actually blushing? From chin to hairline, in fact. The colour matched her bright red lipstick.

  ‘Right,’ she said. She sucked in a deep breath, which tightened her dress across her breasts. She began ticking things off on her fingers.

  ‘Power points? Yes, I want to move them. For years I’ve had to tape an extension cord across the floor because the socket was so far away from the counter. Speaking of the counter, I’d like to move it to the front of the shop so I can see who’s coming and going. I want two more change rooms—there’s always a queue in summer. I want more subtle lighting in the change rooms, so LEDs could work. I changed the bulbs to lower the wattage but it’s still too bright. Maybe floor lamps? I don’t want women to freak out when they’re buying swimsuits. Fixed shelving but racks on wheels so I can move stock around when I feel like things need a shake-up.’

  Stella lifted her glass to her lips. Luca rested an elbow on the table, propped his chin in his hand and stared at her. He liked the way her brain worked. Kind of like his did. Lists. Ticking things off. Getting things done, one by one, methodically and logically.

  And he also still really wanted to have sex with her. Just sayin’.

  ‘Did you get that all down?’ she asked. ‘I didn’t see you taking notes.’

  Luca tapped the side of his forehead. ‘I got it. I remember everything. Now do you want to hear my latest idea?’

  Stella leant forward. Her eyes were wide and bright. ‘Is it good?’

  ‘Damn right it’s good. I’m the Boy Wonder, remember.’

  A glimmer of regret crossed her face. He liked that too.

  ‘Tell me.’

  He leant closer still. He could smell her perfume, something sweet and beautiful. And it only added to how wild he was feeling about her.

  ‘I think we should …’ He left her hanging and was getting a kick out of the intensifying look of frustration on her sweet face.

  Not quite so sweet when she frowned and kicked him under the table.

  ‘Ow. What was that for?’

  ‘You know what for. Tell me or I’ll do it again.’

  ‘Okay. Close your eyes.’

  Stella narrowed them instead.

  ‘C’mon, play along.’

  She fluttered them closed. He wanted to reach across and run his fingers down her cheek, to feel the cool smoothness of her skin, touch her full lips, smear that lipstick with his mouth.

  ‘Imagine your shop.’ He started and then stopped to let her get in the groove. When Stella bit her bottom lip, he got hard. He cleared his throat and kept going. ‘The southern wall, the sandstone one on the café side? It copped most of the water damage. Imagine what your shop will look like if we chip off what’s left of the plaster and render and leave that stone exposed. The texture is so incredible. It looks rough and ready and natural, it hints at the heritage of Port Elliot and I reckon it would look amazing.’

  Stella hadn’t moved. Her eyes were still closed. He looked down at her hands on the table. She’d splayed her palms out and he saw that instead of a wedding ring on her left hand was what looked like a chunky piece of pink glass shaped like a nipple. His fingers were so close—millimetres away—and he was about to touch her when her eyes opened wide.

  ‘That’s a really great idea,’ she said with a delighted smile. ‘You’re good.’

  He shrugged, feeling ridiculously proud of himself. ‘It’s what I do.’

  ‘When can we start?’

  ‘What about tomorrow? Think you can use a chisel?’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll show me.’

  He lifted his hand and waited for Stella to put hers in his grasp to shake on it. When she did, his heart pounded in his chest.

  ‘Damn right I will.’

  CHAPTER

  13

  Friday passed in a blur. Stella and Luca spent the whole day chipping away at the wall and revealing the beautiful sandstone underneath. As promised, Luca’s cousin, Vince the electrician from Adelaide, had turned up and made a start on the rewiring. Stella had confirmed her choice of floor lamps for the fitting rooms, a move she knew would please her customers, so the power points there were fixed low. During the day, they made a trip to the local salvage yard and found a long low 1960s Formica-topped cupboard that they immediately decided could be converted into a stylish new counter.

  Things were falling into place and Stella was having a ball. Luca had laughed at her when she dropped the chisel, though she’d nearly given him a heart attack when it landed a few centimetres from her feet. Luckily she’d followed his advice and was wearing some fearsomely unattractive but sturdy steel-capped boots. He’d complained about the jazz music she was playing—how could anyone hate Coltrane?—and she teased him back about his preference for the Hilltop Hoods. It was easy to be with him, she decided, once she’d put the simmering attraction in its proper place. Of course there was a frisson there. He was handsome, funny, smart and full of great ideas, and he had a way of teasing her that rendered her speechless. Yes, something was growing between them. It was in the shimmer of awareness she felt at simply being in the same room. Her radar for Luca prickled and tingled when he was nearby, as if she’d developed some kind of sixth sense for him, and she’d become hyperaware of his every move, of his every breath. And he was always just right there, close, with a look in his eyes that telegraphed how much he wanted her.

  She tried not to think about it but it was in every unspoken word and in every gesture.

  He wanted her.

  But she couldn’t want him.

  At lunchtime, she’d walked to the bakery and picked up a couple of salad rolls and some cold water.

  ‘Lunch,’ she’d called when she returned, and Luca had looked her way, grinned and put his tools on the ground. He’d walked slowly over to her, his steel-capped boots echoing with each step, and, without breaking the look, stretched his arms up high and leaned from side to side, stretching out his torso. The move lifted his shirt and revealed a perfectly tanned stomach. He’d looked down at her, completely aware of what the move did to the physical relationship between them. It was so male, she realised, as if he was claiming his ownership of the space between them, surrounding her with his body in such a physical way.

  It was nice to feel it. But just because she did, just because it was there, didn’t mean they had to do anything about it.

  And now, it was closing time. They’d packed away their tools and Stella had the keys in her hand to lock up. With Luca by her side, she looked back at her shop and everything they’d accomplished.

  ‘I can’t believe it’s Friday. Look at how much
we’ve done in a week.’

  Luca held up a hand for a high five and Stella weakly slapped her fingers against his. When their palms touched, he clamped his fingers around hers, held on.

  ‘We’re a good team, Stella.’

  ‘We rock,’ she murmured, weakly.

  There was a long moment where not a word was spoken. They were standing there, holding hands. Stella held her breath. The invisible connection wound that little bit tighter and stronger.

  ‘You heading back to Adelaide tonight?’ she asked him, wriggling her tingling fingers free from his.

  ‘Yeah,’ Luca yawned. ‘I’ve got a shitload to do.’

  ‘How on earth can you possibly fit in other jobs when you’re full-time on this one?’ Once again Stella was reminded that Luca had put everything else on hold for her. While she appreciated it, it didn’t stop her feeling guilty about it.

  He yawned. ‘No, not work. I’m moving house over the weekend.’

  Stella stopped. ‘Where to?’

  Luca grinned. ‘I’ve just bought a house in the city.’

  The guilt turned into a heavy weight of remorse. He really had put his whole life on hold. And she wasn’t sure she’d deserved any of it.

  ‘Congratulations. That’s fantastic news. You didn’t say anything—’ Stella stopped. So he hadn’t shared this detail of his life with her. Why should he have? She was his boss and he was, as he’d put it, the hired help. He didn’t have to talk about his personal life if he didn’t want to. But a part of her felt sad at not knowing such a major thing about this man. She knew how important her house was to her and she had the sense that Luca would feel the same about his own place.

  ‘I’ve been a little busy down here and I only got the keys a week ago. The day I came down here to check out this place.’

  ‘Owning your own place is a huge step. Where is it? What kind of house did you buy?’

  Luca rubbed the growth on his chin. ‘Don’t remember. Haven’t seen it much.’

  ‘Luca, really, if you need to—’

  He rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder. ‘It’s okay. It was my choice to be here. My renovator’s delight will still be a renovator’s delight when I finally get to it, believe me. It’s got all I need at the moment. A bathroom.’ He grinned that damn grin again. ‘A bedroom.’

  She rolled her eyes and he laughed, hearty and hot.

  ‘You should come up to Adelaide some time and take a look. It could do with some Style by Stella.’

  ‘I don’t know if you can afford me,’ she replied.

  He reached for her and tugged at the end of her singlet top, which served to pull her a little closer to him. ‘I could pay you in kind.’

  She poked him in the stomach. The rock-hard stomach. ‘You still couldn’t afford me.’

  He let out a dramatic sigh. ‘And in the middle of all that? I have a wedding on Saturday night.’

  Stella couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to a wedding. ‘Is it one of those big Italian extravaganzas?’

  ‘Yep. Ten bridesmaids. Bomboniere. Eight courses. I won’t have to eat for a week.’

  Stella’s eyes drifted to that washboard stomach. ‘I don’t know what you’re worried about. You clearly burn it all off.’

  Goddamn, she wanted to push up the fabric of his T-shirt and lick that olive skin.

  Put the young man down.

  ‘Thanks for noticing,’ he said. ‘And what about you? What’s your secret?’ He eyed her up and down too. Granted, he didn’t get much further than her tits but not many men did. The only workout they needed was lavish ministrations with someone’s tongue. Preferably Luca’s.

  Put the young man down.

  ‘You’d better get going before you fall asleep.’

  Luca saluted her with a weary smile. ‘Yes, Boss.’

  They sauntered to the front door. Luca gestured for Stella to go out first and then he followed, closing it behind her. After a couple of fumbling attempts, she managed to insert the key in the lock and secure the door. When she turned to the street, Luca had moved into her space. There was only a breath between them. He smelt like plaster and coffee and she wanted to drink him in. Starting with his mouth. One soft lip at a time.

  ‘Well. Have fun at the wedding,’ she managed.

  ‘I’ll try. Won’t be the same on my own.’

  She watched his mouth. ‘You don’t have a date?’

  He shook his head, slowly, as his gaze bore down on her lips too. ‘Flying solo.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s not a problem for you. It increases your chances of getting lucky, right?’

  As soon as the words were in the air between them, she felt a bizarre pang of … was it jealousy? Stella averted her eyes from him. In the distance, up at the end of The Strand near the old council chambers, someone was walking a dog. Yes, that’s it. Think about the dog instead of imagining what Luca might look like in a suit. She couldn’t think about him not wearing a suit. She didn’t want to think about him looking at another woman the way he was looking at her. And him pleasuring another woman suddenly felt like he’d be betraying her, which was ridiculous.

  ‘I think my luck has changed already.’ His lips were so close. His fingers were in her hair, tucking messy strands behind her ear. Stella slipped her hands between her bum and the door so she wouldn’t be tempted to rip his clothes off.

  ‘Hah,’ she pushed out, hoping it sounded like a scoff.

  ‘Why don’t you come with me?’

  All the tension that had been building in her came out with a breath. She freed her hands and splayed them against his chest, pushed him back gently. A big cold dose of reality hit her like a wave. She could see through his last-minute desperation as clearly as she could see inside her shop through the gleaming new front window.

  ‘Oh, poor Luca. Just how many times did you get rejected?’ She ducked to the side and stepped onto the road.

  ‘Just the once,’ he called after her.

  Stella raised a tired arm to wave at him. ‘Have fun. See you Monday.’

  She didn’t look back again until she heard the rumble of his HiLux as it took off down the road. Then she walked briskly home and got into a cold shower.

  An hour later, Stella was on her sofa with Mouse in her lap, jazz music soft in the background. She’d showered the plaster dust from her skin, her hair and from almost every crease in her body, and was draped in her vintage silk kimono, her legs stretched out in front of her, her bare feet on the coffee table. A caressing sea breeze wafted inside through her open front windows and she tried to let the relaxation and peacefulness take her over.

  It didn’t work. Luca was all she could think about … until she heard the slam of car doors and the distinctive sound of female voices and heels on the footpath.

  ‘Stella?’

  ‘Yoo hoo.’

  ‘You’d better be home. We have wine.’

  ‘And chocolate.’

  She couldn’t have stood up if she wanted to. She simply waited where she was as Julia, Lizzie, Anna and Summer pushed open her front door and filled up her living room with smiles and laughter and friendship.

  ‘What are you all doing here?’ Stella asked in surprise.

  ‘I’m back for the weekend,’ Anna announced, holding aloft a bottle of prosecco. ‘No more patients for me this week. Francesca is with Joe and I need a glass of this.’

  ‘Mary’s asleep,’ Julia added as she went to the kitchen to grab some glasses. ‘Dan is babysitting Ry and I’ve desperately needed girl time for like a hundred years.’

  ‘I thought Ry was babysitting Dan?’ Lizzie said with a giggle.

  ‘Oh shit!’ said Julia, making a shocked face.

  Laughter filled the room and everyone looked at Summer.

  She shrugged as she kicked off her thongs and plonked herself down on the sofa next to Stella. ‘I remembered to feed my fish before I came! Oh and I rang Courtney to tell her to come but she’s working.’

  Stella f
elt a warm buzz. Her oldest friend, new friends, friends of friends, were all coming together to laugh and just be with her. It had taken her a long time to open herself up to having friends, but now, it was what made her life full and fun and so worth living. She was moved almost beyond words. ‘You guys … this is the best Friday night ever. I’ve had a hell of a week and I can barely move but I’m never too tired for girl time.’

  Julia poured their glasses full and raised hers. ‘To Style by Stella. May she rise from the ashes … well, the mud … bigger and better than before.’

  ‘Hear hear!’ Lizzie shouted.

  ‘So give us an update, Stella. How’s everything going with the renovation?’ Anna slipped off her leopard-print stilettos, sat down next to Stella and tucked a foot under her bum. ‘I haven’t had a chance to go by for a look but I know my brother’s been staying down here all week to get it done. That’s Luca for you. It’s the Morelli gene,’ she said proudly, lifting her chin. ‘When we commit to something, we go at it like a bull at a gate until it’s done.’

  ‘Oh?’ Julia looked at Stella, clearly trying not to smirk. Stella wanted to throw something at her. She wished she had something handy nearby. Like the TV remote control.

  ‘Totally. When he gets stuck into a project, he gives it everything he’s got.’

  Stella tried not to let anything show on her face. She was in a slight panic that even saying his name out loud would give her away. She needed these private thoughts about Luca to remain private, but they were smart women. Summer and Julia had already asked her pointed questions about Luca; a big sister was something else altogether. And a big Morelli sister? Her mind drifted back to his invitation just an hour before. Not just the words, but what she’d seen in his eyes, felt in his fingers. And then it hit her: if she’d made one move, she knew for damn sure they would have been in her bed right now—if they’d made it that far—and potentially coitus-interrupted by his own sister and three ogling women. That was too much to think about.

  ‘He’s very good at what he does, Anna. While saying no to you was never an option, I’m glad I’ve got him working on the shop. He’s got some fantastic ideas.’