Someone Like You(8)

Dan lowered her legs first and she slid from his grasp, thigh to thigh,  her hip teasing along his stomach, her breasts rubbing against his arm,  her nipples achingly hard. She let her hands linger on his muscular  shoulders, down his strong arms to his wrists and fingers. There was  something so beautiful about his arms, she realised. Maybe it was the  first glass of wine that had her asking herself what it would be like to  run her fingers along all that hard muscle. It was definitely the  second that had her considering what it would be like to have sex with  Dan McSwaine.

Right here. Right now.

Lizzie exhaled, strong and loud. Dan was watching her every move with  dark eyes. And the realisation hit her. He's thinking the same thing.  Dan McSwaine is wondering about having sex with me, too. She could see  it right there, plain in his face, in the way his fists clenched at his  sides, in the heave of his chest, up and down, in and out with each  inhalation of breath.         

     



 

'You're safe now.' Dan took a step back, plunged his hands into the pockets of his faded jeans.

'Thanks.' Lizzie forced a smile. When she returned to the kitchen, broom and dustpan in her hands, he was there waiting.

'Here.' Dan reached out to her. 'Give me the broom.'

'You don't have to. I dropped the glass. It's my fault.'

But he wrapped his fingers around the broom handle and teased it from  her grasp. 'Elizabeth, let me help. If I hadn't barged in and scared you  shitless, you'd be enjoying that glass of wine now instead of mopping  it up. It's the least I can do.'

Ten minutes later, they'd swept up the shards of glass, mopped up the  wine and Lizzie had stored everything back in the laundry. When she  returned to the kitchen, Dan stood staring out through her glass doors,  looking out to her deck and beyond to the star-brightened sky. At the  sound of her footsteps, he turned his head and looked over his broad  shoulder to her.

'Nice view.'

I was thinking the same thing. 'It's even better when it's not  pitch-black out there. I can see all the way up to the Point and way  down the coast past Goolwa to the Coorong on a clear day. It's  stunning.'

Dan moved towards her. 'Hey, I'm sorry as hell I scared you.'

'Really, Dan. It's okay. I shouldn't be so jumpy.'

'What say I buy you some new wine glasses to make up for it. Plastic  ones.' There was the slightest hint of a smile beneath that beard and in  his eyes, but Lizzie wondered why he seemed to be fighting it. Why was  he so reluctant to share a smile with her, to relax in her presence? Was  he trying to give her the cold shoulder? The big kiss-off? The romantic  equivalent of the don't-come-Monday?

She searched his eyes for a clue. He looked away from her and back out  the window. Yeah, she'd nailed it. He clearly didn't want her getting  the wrong idea about him, about why he was there. Maybe he hadn't been  thinking about having sex with her, after all. He seemed to be plotting  ways to leave.

'Plastic. Funny. I just wasn't expecting to see you standing here in my  house, considering … ' And then Lizzie stopped, with words that might hurt  him on the tip of her tongue.

'Considering what?'

'You haven't exactly been active in Middle Point since you bought Julia's house, you know.'

And then he smiled, reluctantly, took a step towards her. 'I've been lying kinda low.'

'You're like a vampire.' Lizzie took a step back.

'A what?' He shook his head as if he hadn't heard her properly.

'A vampire. You only come out at night.'

And then he laughed. He actually laughed. The effect on Lizzie was like  an electric shock. After weeks of him throwing grunts at her, hearing  his deep voice erupt in such a spontaneous way was a revelation. She saw  in his eyes another hint, a flash of the Dan she'd met months before,  and that same feeling flooded back to the pit of her stomach. She  squeezed her eyes shut for a moment to will it away. Six kinds of  handsome, that's what Jools had said about him. But with her stomach  still flipping, and a flush of heat in her cheeks, she realised he might  be a few more kinds than that.

He took another step towards her, looked her up and down for what felt  like a half hour, before settling on her mouth. 'Don't worry, Elizabeth.  I don't bite.'

'Good to know,' she managed to say, wishing like hell the throbbing in  her head would stop. 'So, was this a social call or were you out  scouring the neighbourhood for a cup of sugar?'

'I came to talk to you. I don't normally slam the door in the face of a  woman. Especially a woman with food. I've been wanting to apologise for  it.'

'Dan-'

'Elizabeth, please. I should have said it before now.'

Lizzie batted his confession away. 'You don't need to apologise for anything.'

Dan rubbed a hand through his beard. 'Like hell I don't. It was rude and I'm sorry.'

Somewhere in the street a dog barked and a car drove noisily past Lizzie's house. They looked at each other.

'Okay,' Lizzie finally said, letting out a huge exhale. 'Apology accepted.'

Dan shifted, narrowed his eyes. 'You said before you were expecting someone else. Who was that?'

Lizzie heard something prickly in his question. She decided she liked it.

'Harri. I sometimes get a late night call.'

'Harry?' His brow furrowed beneath his dark hair and he seemed to grow taller.
         

     



 
'I've always called her that but she's officially Harriet. She lives  next door. Now and again she pops in for a cuppa this time of night if  she's feeling low. It's been a hard twelve months for her since her  hubby died and sometimes she wants some company.'

'Oh. Right.' A wry smile appeared on his face. 'I hope I didn't scare her off.'

'I don't think so. Harri doesn't scare that easily.'

'Good to know.' Dan took a step towards the door but stopped and turned  back. 'One question. Am I still getting the free meal deal from the  pub?'

Lizzie nodded, crossed her arms. 'Of course. I'm under direct orders from Ry, remember?'

'How about tomorrow night we mix it up. What if I come to the pub instead?'

Lizzie tried not to show any surprise at his suggestion. She made sure her voice was casual and calm. 'Sure. Eight o'clock?'

Dan nodded his agreement.

'I'll hold a table,' she said.

'Make it for two.'

And there it was again. Even though he was halfway out the door, Lizzie  saw that flash of something in his eyes. Images of him scrolled through  her head. The night in the bar when they'd flirted, him in his black  leather jacket. Dan standing at his front door, half-naked and buff.  Tonight, the look in his eyes as he'd held her in his arms, the look  that said, so clearly it may as well have been written in the summer  sky, I want you.

Oh, it was absolutely, definitely the worst idea ever, but at that very  second she didn't give a damn. She almost skipped to the front door and  caught up with him.

'Look. Dan. Since my verdelho ended up on the floor, I have to open  another bottle. I know, first world problems, right? Feel like sharing  it with me?'

Dan realised how close she was when her perfume invaded his senses  again. Fresh flowers. Wine. He felt a tightening in his chest.

'Thanks but no. I should go.' He could see the flicker of disappointment  in her face and he felt like an arsehole when she summoned a quick  smile.

'You sure I can't tempt you?'

If only you knew how much. Dan summoned all the strength he had. 'I've gotta go. See you later.'

Dan walked aimlessly home, letting the dark of the night hide him,  envelop him, until every thought in his head was as black as the sky.  He'd just been invited to stay for a drink. He knew what that meant,  could see it in her eyes. She wanted him. Or, at least, she wanted the  old him. The old Dan wouldn't be out here in the street. The old Dan  would be back in her bedroom, teasing her out of those little shorts and  ripping off that barely there singlet, and he would have had her naked  on top of him right now, showing her in great detail what happened in  his world between staying for a drink and bacon and eggs for breakfast.

He wasn't that bloke anymore. Dinner tomorrow would be a start. At the  pub. The place he hadn't been to since the night he'd driven away and  been broken. He could do it. He'd been feeling different, better, not in  his head so much.

And he owed Elizabeth.





CHAPTER


4


Lizzie kicked off her thongs and planted her feet on the sizzling sand  of Middle Point beach. It was a bright morning, already hot at eight and  she knew, without having even heard a weather forecast that morning,  that it was going to be one of those days, when the wind blew fiercely  from the north and the only relief from the heat was out there in the  blue. She had a couple of hours before duty called at the pub, so she  was determined to make the most of it.

She breathed deeply, flicking out her fingers and loosening her arms  with a fidgety shake. She really needed this. She needed to get out  there, to launch herself on her bodyboard and a wave, give herself over  to the power of the swell and the speed of it. She needed to get out of  her head, to stop thinking so much about what had kept her up all night.  Or rather, who.

Lizzie fastened the velcro strap of her board to her right wrist and  walked towards the water. The beach was empty, save for a few dog  walkers and a solitary runner in the distance whose form grew less  distinct as he pounded the sand in rhythmic steps towards Goolwa. And  that was a relief, Lizzie decided. She didn't particularly want to talk  to anyone at this time of the morning, wanting to savour this peaceful  quiet, this just-woken-up-and-haven't-had-a-coffee-yet solitude. She  talked all day every day at the pub anyway, and wanted the sound of the  waves and the wind to be the only things in her head.