Someone Like You(60)

And now he couldn't think of anything else.

Everything, from this day on, was about her.

Dan turned, lay on his back again, his hands clasped under his head. He  went over and over about what had happened to her on that dark London  street. Those two arseholes. Those two … there weren't words strong enough  for what he felt about men who did that to women. Just thinking about  what they'd done set his jaw to stone.

And Lizzie - scared, young, small town Middle Point girl Lizzie - had  screamed and kicked and fought. Then, she'd packed up her heartbreak and  come home to more of the same. And all she'd gone through since? It  would be enough to rock anyone's foundations and their ideas for their  life.

But she'd survived.

Didn't she realise she'd always been strong, that it had been in her all along?

She was Elizabeth Blake. And she was magnificent.

Her perfect, sleeping face was at peace. Her cheeks soft, her blonde  eyelashes resting on her cheek, a smattering of freckles across her  nose. She looked released. Free.

And he then wondered if he could he really ask her. How could he ask  Lizzie to be with him here, in Middle Point, when it meant asking her to  remain in hiding? To stay here would mean she would always feel a  little bit like the small town crazy girl who tried to have a life but  ended up running from it instead.

Could he let her do that?

Lizzie woke to an empty bed and an empty house. Dan's note, slipped into  a clean and empty coffee cup he'd left on the kitchen counter, said  simply:

Be back soon.

She let it flutter to the kitchen bench, pulled Dan's dinner shirt  tighter around her middle. She stared out his front windows to the  roadway and the beach beyond. Cars were already parked and unloaded,  their drivers and their contents spilled onto the sand for another  summer's day in paradise.

Another day. She looked around Dan's house, listened to the sound of  nothing. It felt empty without him, without his voice and his body and  the look in his eyes that he tossed her way and that sent her knees  buckling. She didn't need to think too much about where he'd gone. She  knew he'd be back because that's the kind of man he was. But what would  he say when he returned?

Had her secret scared him off? And as she wondered about that, searched  deeper, she had to ask herself if she'd wanted it to. If she was being  honest, part of her was relieved he wasn't there. It would have meant  having the conversation. About what came next. About where they went  from here, if anywhere.

What did she want? Really, really want? Saying it out loud, really  wanting it, would mean the disappointment would be so more crushing when  it didn't happen. Since she'd come back from London, she hadn't dared  wish for anything.         

     



 

Until The Market. She'd let herself imagine something there and had  helped it come to life. Could she apply that same strategy to Dan? If  she imagined a life with him, could she help it come to life?

Perhaps it was time for Operation Lizzie, time to start plotting the  story of the rest of her life. Up until now, she'd let it happen to her,  let it run on the 'shit happens' principle. Maybe now it was time to  create that life for herself.

Lizzie rubbed her eyes, suddenly energised. She found her dress, slipped  it on. Looped the straps of her sandals around an index finger and  closed the door behind her as she left.





CHAPTER


34


Lizzie stood in her kitchen, arms crossed, wishing the kettle would  bloody well hurry up and boil. This was going to be the first day of the  rest of her life. If she'd ever needed caffeine, it was now. Right now.

What she didn't need was a smirking big brother, especially one who was  staring at her with suspicious eyes, noticeably taking in her crumpled  blue bridesmaid's dress.

'Morning, Lizzie.' He bumped her aside with his hip and grabbed some  juice from the fridge. He reached up to a high shelf for a glass and  filled it. Drank it in one swallow. Filled it again. Placed it carefully  on the counter.

'Joe.'

'Great night last night, huh?'

'Yeah, it was. Did you have a good time?'

He smiled, and she saw something in his eyes. Something self-satisfied  and macho. 'I did, as a matter of fact. And you know what? You were  right. I did need some no-strings-attached dancing. It's done me the  world of good.' Joe stretched his arms high, almost meeting the ceiling,  and then fisted his chest like King Kong. 'Man, I'm feeling fantastic  this morning.'

What had got into him? Lizzie wondered. She reached over, patted him on the shoulder. 'Excellent news.'

'And what about you, Mosquito? Enjoyable night?' His curious eyes ran up and down yesterday's dress.

'I'm not telling you anything.'

'Not even about the way you ran off with-'

'I said no questions. I'm not in the mood for a press conference today,  okay?' She didn't know where the edge in her voice had come from, but it  was there. And she suddenly felt on edge. She was feeling nervous about  Operation Lizzie all of a sudden. Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Maybe  it was thinking about Dan and The Talk.

Joe held up his hands in mock surrender. 'No questions from me. Can't think of a single one.'

'Good.'

Joe gave her one of those looks like he knew what she was thinking. 'You all right? You don't look all right.'

'I mean it, Stinkface. Absolutely, definitely no fucking comment. Damn  the stupid kettle.' She twisted off the flame with vicious intent. 'I  just need to get some sleep.'

Then Joe stepped in front of her with the urgency of a traffic cop and  grabbed her by the shoulders. 'I say this out of total love and respect  for you, but you look like hell. And you have panda eyes. Why don't you  jump in the shower first?'

That sounded like a plan. She managed a smile. 'Good idea. You do have  them occasionally, you know. And hey,' she turned to him. 'Thanks for  looking out for me. I do appreciate it.'

Lizzie took a step closer and reached up, planted a big kiss on his  cheek and threw her arms around his neck for a big brother-sister hug.  Which was when she smelt perfume. Not aftershave. Not cologne. But  perfume. Something exotic and feminine.

She dropped her arms and felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. No strings attached dancing. Excellent.



Dan thumped the steering wheel, and swore loud enough to be heard above  the music blaring in the cabin of his four-wheel drive. He was stuck an  hour away from Middle Point on the main highway heading south out of the  city. A highway? That was a lie. It was more like a fucking car park in  the traffic. He didn't want to be there. He wanted to be eighty  kilometres further south with the afternoon sun on his face, where the  only queue was at the local bakery.

He looked around impatiently, in front to check again if the traffic was  moving, and then in his rear-view mirror to judge how long the queue  behind him was. When he glanced down into the sedan in the next lane, he  softened. A small girl, a little blondie secured safely in her car  seat, had her tiny fingers pressed up against the glass and was looking  right up at him with a shy smile and big blue eyes.

A blondie.

Damn, that kid was cute. And she could have been Lizzie thirty years  ago. He let all his tension out in a big exhale and grinned just  thinking about her.

He checked his watch. It was five in the afternoon. It wouldn't be long  before he'd see her. He'd been caught up in the city all day, putting  the elements of his plan together. He'd left early that morning, before  Lizzie stirred, fired up and wanting to get this final piece of the plan  in place.         

     



 

He was ready to make a change in his life. He was done with the  nightclubs and partying and women. Had the accident forced the change?  Hell, he didn't know. Didn't care to analyse why. But to his enormous  surprise, the sleepy beachside town of Middle Point was home now. He  didn't want to go anywhere else. Maybe he'd ask Joe to teach him how to  surf. Could he do that at his age? Thirty-five wasn't too old. Would his  leg hold up? Maybe. He hadn't been feeling it lately and that was a  good sign. Every month away from the accident was a month of feeling  physically better. And what about the other part of him?

A glance over his shoulder into the back seat revealed his special cargo  was still safely packed away and he let himself smile about it.

He wondered what Lizzie would think about his plan. The angry sound of a  car horn, and the raised middle finger in his rear-view mirror, cut off  that thought and he realised he'd missed the green light.

As he took off, every car length taking him that much closer to home, he laughed and gave the guy behind him a wave.

'Chill, man. You need to do something about your stress.' Then he grinned like a maniac. 'Like move to Middle Point.'

Lizzie had scored Sunday off, since it was the day after the Big  Wedding, and she needed every bit of it to recover. Amazing what a  wedding and sex could do to you. It may have been a brilliant summer's  day outside, with a gentle breeze and a temperature in the low thirties,  but she needed to veg out.

After a long and luxurious shower in the morning, she'd thrown on a tank  top and some shorts, ferreted out some of her favourite movies, and  settled in for a day of no-guilt-involved slacking off. She couldn't  remember the last time she'd spent the whole day with nothing to do, no  one to help, or nothing to think about.