He had on a pair of worn jeans with a tear in one knee and frayed hems. The soft, faded material clung to his muscular thighs like a dream and he’d thrown on an old AC/DC tour t-shirt that clung to the muscles in his arms.
The effect was mouthwatering.
“Hopefully it holds off long enough for me to make it into the city.” The coffee machine hummed noisily.
“Drive safely and make sure you pull over if gets crazy,” he said.
“First you kick me out and then you give me driving tips?” She’d meant it as a joke but his dark eyes remained stony.
“We discussed this, Neve. I said I was sorry for the mix up.”
She wasn’t actually sure if he’d uttered an apology, per se. But that was semantics at this point. “I’m just kidding. Geez, lighten up. I don’t want to stay now anyway.”
Not when every time she looked at him her body hummed with burgeoning need. She could see that danger sign a mile off. Her mother’s rejection stung and the wounds on her heart were still bleeding. She would not make herself vulnerable to another person right now.
Tilly padded into the kitchen and nudged Neve’s hand with her head. “What? I scratch your head one time and now you think it’s a done deal. I’m not that easy, dog.”
But she scratched her head anyway and the dog panted, clearly enjoying how she’d managed to wrap Neve around her paw in under twenty-four hours.
“Promise me you’ll drive safely.” Damian’s voice was tighter than a coil.
“I promise.” She sipped her drink. “I’m a very responsible driver. Never had a ticket. Though I might have talked myself out of a few.”
A cynical grunt was his only response.
“He’s a serious old thing, isn’t he?” she said to Tilly, who nudged her insistently when she stopped scratching for all of three point four seconds. “And you’re super needy. You make a beautiful couple.”
When silence settled over the kitchen, Neve took a moment to watch Damian as he stared out into the yard. Whatever he was dealing with, it didn’t look fun. Annabel had said he was an incessant workaholic and that they didn’t see each other often. That they’d been close once, she’d said, like a real family and she missed him terribly.
The sadness in her voice had hit Neve like a punch to her chest. Was that how Neve’s brother had felt when she left? He hadn’t told her not to go, but he had his own abandonment issues and she’d suspected her leaving had hurt him. It was like their mother’s actions had created opposite reactions in them—his was a desire to lay down permanent roots in Kite Harbor versus hers was a burning need to chase the truth.
At that moment thunder sounded like a gunshot through the air and the heavens opened up. Rain poured down, slamming against the roof with growing intensity. The air was heavy and thick, the weather primed for a light-show. As if on cue, lightning streaked across the sky, chased by the rumble of thunder low in the distance. Tilly whined, letting out a sharp bark before taking off further into the house.
“Might be a good idea to wait a bit before you head off,” Damian said, flipping the lights on since the heavy clouds had made it dark inside.
“I’ll be fine. I wanted to get out of your hair as soon as possible.”
“It’s not you,” he said. “The reason I need to be alone isn’t anything to do with you.”
“What is it then?”
“I don’t really want to get into it.”
“Come on, who am I going to tell?” She hopped up to sit on the counter and let her legs swing, her heels knocking against the cupboard doors. “It’s not like we have any mutual acquaintances…except your sister. But I won’t say anything. I promise.”
He let out a long breath and braced his hands against the countertop next to her. The muscles in his arms flexed, attracting her gaze instantly. “I lost a case. A big one.”
“Doesn’t that happen from time to time?”
“Not to me.” He made a low growling noise in the back of his throat. “These people were relying on me and I failed them.”
“What happened?” She couldn’t help herself. Damian was a fascinating guy—not like the “what you see is what you get” types she’d grown up with back home. And against her better judgment, she wanted to know more.
So many people had asked him about this case—the partners at his firm, the media, the devastated clients. And he’d clammed up tighter than a vice…until now. Maybe it was coming back to this place or maybe it was simply Neve and her nonthreatening curiosity, but he had the urge to share his burden with someone else. Which was, most definitely, a first.
“Well?” she prompted.
“We had bushfires last year. Bad ones.” He rolled his head from side to side, trying to push the tension out of the muscles in his neck. “There were overgrown trees running through one particular area and they fell on electrical conductors, which made the fires get totally out of control.”
“That’s awful.” She touched her fingertips to her mouth, her brows meeting in a deep frown.
“The whole area suffered extensive damage including many local, family-run businesses.” He curled and uncurled his hands. “So we targeted the electrical company.”
“Because they should have done something about the overgrown trees?”
“Exactly.”
Her hands curled over the edge of the countertop where she sat, but her whole body had stilled and she looked as though she was hanging on his every word. “But you lost?”
“Yeah.” In the most humiliating way possible.
“Why?”
It would be easy to shut her out now, to tell her it was none of her business or that it was confidential. He could lie and say he’d signed a non-disclosure agreement to avoid her questions. But it was like he’d poured his problems into a cup and now they were all spilling over the edge, uncontrolled and uncomfortable.
“We had plenty of evidence to show that complaints had been made about the trees and the electrical company had even flagged the issue internally. But nothing was done about it.” He shook his head, his eyes closing for a moment. “Then we get to court and they show up with evidence that someone deliberately lit the fires.”
“What?” Her jaw went slack. “Who would do something like that?”
“You’d be surprised how many fires during bushfire season are actually arson rather than Mother Nature.” He couldn’t keep the disgust out of his voice.
“That sounds really awful but I still don’t understand why that’s your fault.”
This was the bad part, admitting aloud that he’d screwed up. That he’d let his own problems get in the way of a case. That he’d let everyone down.
“I missed the clues. There was one guy who didn’t want to be part of the class action, despite the fact the whole front of his house was burned to the ground.” Pause. “Turns out he’d been protecting his son, who was the arsonist. The electrical company bullied him into admitting that his son did it.”
A line appeared between her eyes. “Shit.”
“I should have seen the signs, I knew there was something fishy about that guy but I didn’t follow it up.”
“It’s just a mistake,” she said.
“A mistake that might mean some of these people never get their businesses off the ground again. A mistake that might mean these people can’t afford to return to their hometown.” He sighed. “I allowed myself to get totally blindsided.”
She shook her head. “You’re being too hard on yourself.”
“No, I’m not. My head wasn’t in the game, our firm had won a case like this a few years back and I thought I had it in the bag.” It should have been a slam dunk, and instead it had unraveled him. “But my parents died ten years ago. It was their anniversary and…”
The pain was still strong. Too strong. He tamped it down, refusing to break in front of Neve. There would be time for that later.
“And?”
“I couldn’t get them out of my head.”
&nb
sp; Compassion flickered in her blue eyes. “You can’t be blamed for that.”
“You don’t understand, I don’t lose. Especially not cases like this.” Moreover, his dad wouldn’t have lost if it had been his case.
“Is that why you’re here?”
“Yeah. I always came to my dad when I had a big problem to solve, so I thought maybe being here…” He rubbed at the back of his neck, his fingers finding hard and unyielding muscle. “It’s stupid.”
“No, it’s not.” She cocked her head. “Have you thought about talking to someone? I mean, a professional might—”
“I’m not seeing a therapist.” He folded his arms over his chest. There was no way in hell he was going down that path, not again.
Time to end the conversation.
“I didn’t mean to tell you what to do.” She held up her hands as if to signal peace.
“I don’t normally talk to anyone about this kind of stuff.” So why now? He’d hoped for a lighter load on his shoulders, hoped that maybe sharing his problems might make them seem manageable.
The sympathy in her eyes was doing strange things to his insides and while he wasn’t absolved of his pain, he did feel supported. Which was stupid considering she’d be walking out of here soon.
And for some reason that fact didn’t appeal to him as much as it had yesterday.
Neve wanted to push him, to call him on his stubbornness. But it wasn’t her place. They didn’t know one another and after today they would never see each other again.
He’s got no reason to listen to you.
But his guilt called to her. He took responsibility for his actions—probably too much. It was noble, a sign that he was a good person at heart.
“You should talk about it more, not a therapist if you don’t want to do that,” she said carefully. “But…someone. Like Annabel.”
“Maybe.” He said it in a way that told her that she wasn’t going to get anything else from him.
That was probably her cue to get going. She’d poked around enough in his personal life and now she was foisting her advice on him like she had any right to tell him what to do. And it wasn’t as if she was a shining example of a person who had their shit together.
“I’d better hit the road.” She dropped down from the counter top and put her dirty mug in the sink. “I would say see you around, but I guess I won’t.”
“No,” he said, his eyes catching hers. Something swirled in their depths and it tugged on her heartstrings. “You won’t.”
She placed a hand on his arm and retracted it immediately when her palm tingled against his hard muscle. Her body seemed to be filled with electric energy whenever she stood close to him.
Jeez, could you be anymore awkward. Stop touching him and go. Now.
“I hope you figure out what to do,” she said, turning to leave. “Uh, thanks for dinner last night.”
“Neve.” His voice stopped her in her tracks and the deep, commanding timbre sent a shiver racing down the length of her spine. “I’m sorry the accommodation didn’t work out as you’d planned.”
“The last year didn’t work out as I’d planned,” she said with a shrug. “That means I’m due for good things next year, right?”
She didn’t wait for him to say anything else. It was time for her to go, time to get some distance between her and Damian so she could shake out the cobwebs and naughty images.
As she packed her bag, thunder cracked overhead. Tilly yelped in the next room and rain seemed to pelt down even harder. The howl of the wind ran through the house and it sounded like angry ghosts were flying around.
Driving in this storm would not be fun, but she was a confident driver and a sensible one. Then an ear-splitting crack shot through the air. Something pounded on the roof, like rocks being hurled at full strength. They didn’t stop.
“Is that hail?” She stuck her head out of the bedroom, eyes widening at the sight of white balls of ice pelting at the windows.
Damian came out of his room with Tilly, the enormous dog bundled up in his arms like a giant, hairy baby. “I haven’t seen a storm like this for a while. We’d be best to stay away from the windows just in case.”
Watching him carry Tilly to the couch and take care of her was doing strange things to her insides, making them feel all flippy and twisty. “But I’m supposed to leave.”
“You’re not driving in that.” He jerked his head toward the window. “There’s too many old trees around here. Not to mention that if one of those hail stones came through your windscreen you’d be in serious trouble.”
Fate was having a fun time messing with her emotions, it seemed. But Damian was right, it wasn’t worth the risk of an accident to leave now.
“And bad weather is the cause of over twenty percent of road accidents,” he continued. “Even heavy rain, without the hail, makes it so much more likely that a crash will occur. Rain actually causes more collisions than snow—”
“Damian.” She held up a hand. His concern touched her, although he probably would have acted this way if anyone was considering driving in a storm. “It’s fine. I’ll wait it out.”
“Good.”
She joined him on the couch and Tilly crawled over Damian’s lap to wedge herself between the two of them. It was hard not to notice how close he was despite their canine-shaped barrier. Did he have to look like a freaking sex god in every single situation?
The couch was small and the way he sat—with his legs sprawled open in that oh-so masculine way—meant he took up most of the room. It also meant that his jeans stretched across his lap in a way that made her mouth run dry. Last night’s dream flickered in her mind in a vivid reel of sweat-slicked skin and hot, dirty kisses. But Neve shoved the fantasy aside and concentrated on helping to calm Tilly down.
“I see you two have become best buds,” he said with a wry smile.
“Fear is a bonding experience.” She placed an arm over Tilly’s body. “So what now?”
“No one is going anywhere until the storm dies down.”
The lights flickered overhead and Damian groaned, a frustrated plea on his lips. But the gods were being cruel and the power flickered once more before dying completely. The hum of the refrigerator cut out and the room went dark.
“That’s the last thing we need,” he muttered. “No power means no internet and no fridge…not that there was anything much to eat anyway.”
“I guess we can’t call for a pizza, huh?” she quipped, trying not to let on how her mind raced at being alone and in the dark with him.
Another loud crack of thunder was followed by a huge boom. Not the kind of boom that came from the sky, either. They went to the window and peered out. A tree now lay on the road and branches were strewn over the driveway. Some of the smaller twigs were blowing down the street. Leaves billowed up, swirling as if in some manic dance.
“We’re going to be stuck here until the storm slows down enough for the council to clear the roads.” He shook his head. “But that’ll take a while from the looks of it.”
She balled her hands, digging her nails into the fleshy heels of her palms. So much for her soul-searching holiday. Around Damian, it was impossible to think about anything else but him.
CHAPTER FIVE
Damian checked his phone and tried to see if data would work but all he got was the spinning wheel of doom. No internet, minimal call reception. The phone towers would be working overtime anyway; no doubt the emergency services would be getting contacted left right and center…if anyone could even make calls.
Shit. There was no way anyone was getting in or out of Sorrento in this weather. Not to mention there was a chance that it would take days to clear the flooding and debris.
He was stuck with Neve and the thought didn’t bother him as much as it should have, especially after she’d started up on the “you need to talk to someone” act this morning. He’d had enough of that from Annabel the past ten years.
“I guess this isn’t a good time
to say I’m starving, is it?” Neve continued to watch the storm raging outside.
In the dim light, it would be easy to slip closer to her. To draw a deep breath in and inhale that sweet, soapy scents of hers. To whisper in her ear and fill his hands with her hair. To trace the curve of her hips. His gaze ran over the bare skin exposed by the strappy shoulders of her tank top.
“Our options are limited, but let’s see if we can be creative,” he said, clearing his throat. “Let’s have a look.”
The fridge had a stick of butter, a few jam jars, a bottle of maple syrup, a lump of parmesan and an unopened Coke. Not exactly the makings of a meal. They had better luck in the freezer with two loaves of bread, a few bottles of homemade frozen pasta sauce, a bag of peas, ice cubes and a small stack of frozen pizzas.
He’d noticed a few containers of long-life milk in the cupboard along with the usual suspects of honey, wine, spices, flour, dried pasta and bags of microwavable popcorn. Nothing fresh or green in sight.
“Annabel usually keeps this place well stocked because she comes up every few weeks,” he said, pulling out the loaf of bread and retrieving the butter and maple syrup. “But she hasn’t been here for a while, I’m guessing.”
“She’s been in the UK,” Neve said. “That’s how I met her. I was working at a bar there and she was having a drink.”
He hadn’t known that Annabel wasn’t in the country. A lump lodged in his throat. What kind of brother didn’t know where his sister was spending her time?
When was the last time they’d talked? He couldn’t recall. And since they’d had that horrible argument about the renovations to the beach house, she’d stopped trying to get him to talk. Stopped texting, stopped emailing.
She’d finally allowed him to push her away.
“She met someone there,” Neve continued. “Some English guy. He seems nice.”
“Is she coming home?” he asked, unsure what he wanted the answer to be.
“Maybe you should ask her yourself.” She said it in a way that implied a gentle nudge rather than a dig, which only served to make him feel worse.
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