Someone Like You(23)

He grabbed the handle but tamped down his instinct to barge right in. He had to handle this carefully. So he knocked and waited.

As soon as Lizzie saw the big dark shape silhouetted in the glass, she  knew exactly who it was. And she knew that she didn't want to face him.  They'd managed to avoid each other for two whole days and that had been  working well for her. Oh, like hell. She threw her pen down on her desk  and sulked. She hadn't wanted to talk to anybody. Including Julia. She  knew that Julia knew what had happened. There was no way on earth the  loved-up super-couple of Middle Point would keep secrets that big from  each other. Lizzie had been a jittery wreck every time she got a text  message and had the tell-tale signs of not getting enough sleep: two  smudgy black shadows had come to stay and moved in right under her eyes.  All the miracle camouflaging make-up in the world hadn't worked. And  now he was right there, behind that wood and glass door.         

     



 

She'd spent the past two days hammering out what to say the next time  she saw him, of course she had. She was a woman, after all. And so far,  she'd narrowed down her options to:

1. What was your name again?

2. The sex? It was okay.

3. I'm cool with casual sex.



Coming a very distant last was:

23. I'm sorry for the crazy woman thing.



There was another knock, a little more insistent this time and her  resolve began to feel shaky. In a panic, she picked up her mobile,  slammed it to her ear and called out, 'Come in.'

Dan stepped in to her office and closed the creaking door behind him.  Lizzie pointed to the phone, rolled her eyes, hoping that he would get  that she was very busy and important and couldn't possibly hang up on  someone equally busy and important just because a handsome man had  entered her office. He gave her a nod of understanding and shoved his  hands into the pockets of his jeans. She gulped; cast a glance up and  down his body, remembering their night together. Oh God, those jeans.  Her heart thudded in her chest. And then she remembered she was supposed  to be pissed off at him, so tried really hard not to think about what  he looked like naked.

Dan leaned back against the door, waiting, and Lizzie wondered if he was  trying put as much distance between them as he possibly could. Which  was almost impossible given that the two of them, two grey metal filing  cabinets, an ancient hat rack and a locked wooden door leading down to  the cellar were all jammed into an area no bigger than three by three  metres. In that confined space, Dan towered over every bit of furniture,  dominating the room. As well as every single thought in her head.

Lizzie tore her eyes away from his jeans and tight T-shirt and  remembered she was supposed to be on a call. She held two fingers in the  air to let him know she'd only be a couple of minutes and then realised  she hadn't invented in her head who she might be talking to.

'Sure. Will do. Uh huh. Certainly.' She nodded, wondering just how long  she should go on to make it seem real. 'How many cases did you say? I'm  thinking of freshening up the wine list, so that's good to know.' She  glanced at Dan, whose gaze hadn't moved from hers the whole time he'd  been standing there. It was making Lizzie very jumpy.

'That sounds great. Talk soon.' She jabbed at the screen of her phone to end the charade.

'Hi Dan,' she said, aiming for breezy. Or perhaps I-don't-give-a-damn-that-you're-here.

'Elizabeth,' he replied, his deep voice low and quiet in the room.

'What can I do for you?'

With a flash of awareness, Lizzie realised she'd been so distracted by  his body and thinking about it naked and faking her phone call that she  hadn't realised the important thing going on in that room. Which wasn't  the combustible sexual tension she was feeling. It was the very fact  that Dan was standing there. In her office. In the pub. He'd actually  left his house in daylight hours. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

'I've come to check up on progress,' he said, matter-of-factly,  absent-mindedly rubbing the growth on his chin. It looked like he hadn't  shaved since … in a couple of days, at least. Lizzie stood, walked around  the desk, tried not to stand too close to him. Impossible in her little  office. She could do this. She could talk business with Dan McSwaine.  Easy peasy. She could also pretend it wasn't a massive leap forward for  him to be standing there. She could do that, too. Which didn't mean she  wasn't still pissed off at him, but that could wait.

'You wanna see what's been going on today?' Lizzie smiled up at him and  damn it if those green eyes of his weren't weaving their special kind of  charm on her all over again. He never just looked at her, it was as if  he was staring right into her, reaching into her head and spinning her  brain around like a plate on a stick until she felt dizzy.

'Yeah, I do.' Dan had pushed himself back against the wall to make room  for her to pass, but she couldn't stop her hip and shoulder brushing  against his body, all hard muscle and tension, a rigid wall in the  doorway. She tried to remain calm, turned left and headed outside.

Lizzie relished the warm December sun on her skin and squinted at the  brightness and intensity of the southern Australian light. Dan surveyed  the area, taking in the partially completed paving, and looked over at  the two tradies sitting in the shade of their truck with their smoko  snack of a sausage roll and an iced coffee.

'I'll be back in a sec,' he told her, and loped over to the young guys.  Lizzie watched him, one arm resting on the truck's cab, looking down,  talking, pointing to various sections of the site. He took out his phone  and made a call, the two guys waiting for an answer he was clearly  getting from somebody.         

     



 

Standing out there in the hot sun, in his jeans and T-shirt, he looked  like one of them. Something physically changed in Dan too. His shoulders  lifted and the smile on his face had broadened.

Lizzie let their laughter float over her as she surveyed the work site.  Every square metre of extra paving completed meant they were one step  closer to bringing her idea to life. She fluttered her eyes closed,  luxuriated in the heat of the sun, and let her mind wander to imagine  what the space would look like when it was complete. She'd been  bombarded with interest from stallholders and she'd lined up a myriad of  different items to be sold. Homemade jam and marmalade. Wooden toys,  crafted lovingly by the old blokes who went to the local Men's Shed,  would be sold to raise money for prostate cancer research. Fresh  vegetables from the local school garden, all profits going towards new  library books. A pre-loved books stall, filled with the action and  romance novels people on holidays loved to read. In the cool under the  shade sails, tables and chairs would be groaning with people devouring  bacon and eggs while sipping on strong coffee. And Lizzie could smell it  as sure as if she were working the barbecue herself  –  that peculiarly  Australian smell of a good old-fashioned sausage sizzle, the tang of  vinegary tomato sauce mixing it up with the smell of frying onions.

When she blinked her eyes open, Dan was standing two feet from her, casting a tall shadow.

'They reckon they'll be finished by the weekend.' He moved closer.

'Wow. That's sooner than I thought,' Lizzie replied. 'I can't wait to  see it filled with life and energy and community spirit.' She laughed,  rolling her eyes. 'Holy crap, I sound like an American cheerleader.'

Dan ran his fingers up her arm, from wrist to elbow, then urged her  closer. There was a charge in the air between them, so strong she could  feel it in her ears.

'Elizabeth. You're not gossip to me.'

With his other hand, Dan reached up to gently touch her hair, tuck a few  strands behind her ear. There wasn't much to play with, being so short,  but when his fingers caressed the sensitive skin there, such a soft and  intimate gesture, Lizzie trembled. She tried to remember why she'd been  so angry with him.

Oh yeah, that's right.

'Ry's my boss and you telling him the way you did made me look  ridiculously unprofessional. That's why I was pissed off. I've only been  manager here a few months and I do not want to blow it.'

'You didn't blow it, Elizabeth.'

She let out a big sigh and all her pent-up anger disappeared. 'You may  not have noticed but there aren't too many other pubs in Middle Point.  And by that I mean, there aren't any other pubs in Middle Point.'

Dan snaked his arms around her waist and Lizzie put her hands on his chest, trying to stop him getting any closer.

She eyed him up and all the way down. 'I mean what next? Are you going  to totally humiliate me and tell him that you broke my man drought?'

His eyebrows raised in a sexy smirk. 'I may have mentioned something about you being a champion at the horizontal folk-dancing.'

Lizzie's mouth opened in shock but before she could admonish him, he  took his chance and kissed her. There was nothing gentle about it this  time. He slammed against her, claimed her with his lips and tongue the  way he always managed to do with her eyes. This kiss, this  out-in-the-open, this who-gives-a-damn-who's-watching kiss, flicked a  switch in her and she was on fire. She forced her arms up high and  around his neck, tangling in the hair touching his collar. Somewhere  vaguely in the back of her brain she heard two young guys wolf-whistling  and cheering and the toot of a car horn. When Dan tried to pull his  mouth away from her, she bit his lip hungrily, wanting more of him.