The Lawson Boys: Alex Page 6
Climbing in, he shoved the key into the ignition and started the Jeep. It growled to life and he put it into gear. But he didn’t take his foot off the brake.
Staring at the house, the door shut where it had swung closed behind him, he couldn’t help but remember the tears spilling down Harly’s cheeks.
Damn it, she deserved to cry. She deserved to be alone. She could have chosen to tell him, to have him by her side, but she’d made her bed and now she was lying in it. Her choice. Not his choice. Her choice.
He told himself that as he gazed at the door. The light spilling from the small window in the top of the door was a gamely burning glow.
His baby had been a small glow of life inside Harly and he hadn’t known. Now he knew. She’d thought she was setting him free, but she hadn’t given him that choice, instead, she’d made it for him. The wrong choice.
And now she was alone, crying.
And he was sitting out here feeling vindicated, righteous, and so bloody angry he could punch his fist through a wall if there had of been one nearby.
Scrubbing his hand over his face, he took a deep breath, braced his hands on the steering wheel…then with a curse he turned the ignition off, jerked the key free, opened the door to the jeep and jumped down to the ground. Calling himself all kinds of a fool for caring even a little - that had to come from his mother’s side, surely - Alex stormed back across the yard, bounded up the veranda and thrust the door open.
Harly was exactly where he’d left her, standing facing the door with her arms wrapped around herself, tears streaming down her cheeks, those grey eyes looking so much like rain-drenched clouds.
At the sight of him scowling, she took a step back and held out a palm. “I’m s-sorry, Alex, I’m so sorry.”
Did she think he was going to strike her? The thought hit him hard, unwelcome, making him pull up. But then he took another look at her face, those tears, those lush lips that trembled, and when she raised her arm and wiped her cheeks on her sleeve, the gesture so defenceless, he crumbled.
Just a little.
Stepping forward, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his embrace as he gruffly said, “Come here.” He was a fool for feeling that little stab of compassion at the sight of her tears. Just showing her a little compassion, he assured himself. Just a little. Nothing more.
It was what he thought, but when she stood in shocked stiffness he found himself reassuring her quietly. “Sssshhh, Harly. I’m here now, it’s all right.”
“I don’t understand-“ she began brokenly.
Neither did he, but he followed his instinct, however mad he thought himself back in the saner recesses of his brain. “Just shush.” Placing his chin on top of her head, he held her gently but firmly against him.
For several seconds she held herself stiffly, but then he started to rub her back and suddenly she just melted into him, the tears she’d been trying to hold back pouring forth.
His heart gave a little jerk, a little squeeze of pain at the sudden unwelcome image of Harly as a teenager, crying for her - their - lost baby, and not receiving any compassion from her own parents. It had been the family’s shameful secret, and that meant that no one outside herself and her parents had known.
Harly had had no one to turn to. She’d born the sorrow and mourning by herself. Truly alone.
Closing his eyes, Alex sighed. Shit. Shit and double shit. It didn’t change anything, he was still angry, but his anger had shifted a little.
Minutes passed as he held her, her body so soft and warm against his, her tears wetting his shirt where she clutched it against her cheeks as she leaned into him. Rubbing her back soothingly, he waited.
And while he waited, his thoughts churned, taking a different direction.
Yeah, he’d come to Whicha for a showdown, to confront Harly, to make her admit the truth and yes, to make her feel as bad as he felt, but now that she was crying he felt…well, hell, he felt bloody confused.
He should be happy. Satisfied. But having a woman sobbing in his arms was something he hadn’t thought about. He should have driven off in the knowledge that she now knew how wrong she’d been to hide the truth from him, and yet it still didn’t sit right, it was still so wrong.
Now he knew but he still wasn’t satisfied.
Goddamn it. What’s wrong with me?
A sniffling sound and the feel of Harly pushing back from him took his mind off his troubling thoughts, and he looked down into her tear-stained face.
She glanced fleetingly at him before lowering her gaze and biting her lower lip.
The silence between them now was fraught with unsaid words, confused feelings, and a whole lot of wariness.
Yay me. He’d lost control of the situation and the frustration wasn’t doing his temper any good. Why the hell did he feel guilty? With a sigh, he shoved his hand through his hair.
“Ummm…” she managed.
Yeah, that about said it all. Alex glanced around the hallway looking for inspiration, only to meet Buffy’s quizzical gaze from where she sat in the doorway of the lounge room. Great, even the dog didn’t understand him.
Impatiently placing his hands on his hips, he switched his gaze to Harly.
She immediately looked away again.
“Harly…” Not quite knowing what to say, he stopped. This sure as hell hadn’t turned out the way he’d planned.
“It - it’s okay.” Linking her fingers, she bent them backwards a little, palms up. “I…umm…”
He needed space. Right now. His head was filled to bursting with half coherent thoughts. But one thing he knew for sure, he wasn’t finished with Harly Bentley.
“We need to talk,” he stated abruptly.
Her startled gaze flew to his. “I thought we already had.”
“I mean calmly.”
“I don’t see what I can tell you that would be any different.” She took a step back.
“Are you working tomorrow?”
It was with obvious relief that she nodded.
“At the café?”
“Yes.”
“What time do you finish?”
“Alex, I don’t think it’s a good idea to meet.”
“What time?”
“Alex-”
“Harly, this isn’t finished. I need to talk about this, okay? But we both need to calm down. What time do you finish at the café? I’ll pick you up and we can go somewhere for a drink and a quiet talk.”
“This is a mistake.”
“Or I can just get there early, read a book all day and wait until the café closes.”
A flash of annoyance flared briefly in her eyes. “It won’t change anything.”
She had no idea that things had changed for him, and most unexpectedly. Lowering his voice, he canted his head slightly toward her and said quietly, “Please, Harly. Let’s do it right this time.”
She gazed up at him searchingly. “How did you find out?”
“For that, you’ll need to meet me.”
“Who told you? No one knew but me, my parents and the doctor.”
“What time do you finish?”
Tiredly, she rubbed her forehead. “Five thirty.”
“I’ll pick you up.” Turning on his heel, he walked back out the door.
~*~
After a night of almost complete sleeplessness, Harly got out of bed early. Tired and feeling drained, she watered the pot plants and roses before munching listlessly on breakfast.
Buffy and the cats ate and went about their usual business, and she decided if she ever came back into the world she wanted to come back as one of her cats. At least their lives were uncomplicated. The other cats didn’t sneer about their weight, they only had to worry about their one coat, and they spent all day eating, drinking, and lolling in the house or in the garden.
Yes, life as one of her cats would be just grand.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t one of her cats and with a sigh she cleaned up the breakfast dishes, gathered
up her small shoulder bag, bid the pets goodbye, locked the house and walked down the drive to the gate. Shutting it behind her, she waited for Bill’s car to arrive to give her a lift to the café.
The early morning sun was soothing and she half closed her eyes as she leaned against the fence.
Last night her mind had been in turmoil, her emotions shot to pieces, but the passing hours had calmed her and allowed her to get back under control. Life, she decided, was like that. Turmoil one minute, quiet the next.
The worst had happened, Alex had found out, she’d cried, she’d spent a sleepless night, and now she was going to go to work like nothing had happened and then…well, there was the kicker. Then she was going to have a drink with Alex.
Not something she was looking forward to but she knew he had questions and yes, he had the right to answers. As did she, because for starters - major starters - who had told Alex? The doctor was bound by patient/doctor confidentiality, and no way had her parents told him, they’d never spill the family secret. So who knew? Who had told?
Hearing Bill’s ute approaching, she straightened. Tonight she’d know. Tonight she had to face Alex again. To be honest, after her crying all over him, facing him was one thing she didn’t want to do, but unfortunately being an adult meant she had to face problems.
Alex Lawson was a big problem but one that would soon be back right where he belonged - in her past.
Bill looked at her as she got into the ute. “Man, you look like hell.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Bad night?” He put the ute into gear and drove back onto the road.
“Not the best.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Seriously?” She stared at him.
“Not really.” He shrugged. “But if it helps…”
Shaking her head, she relaxed back onto the cracked seat. “I’m fine. I’ll catch up on sleep tonight.”
“Okay.” Bill retreated into his customary silence, obviously more than happy not to take it further.
Grinning, Harly gazed out at the scenery as they drove along the road and towards the town. A new house was going up on the outskirts of town, and she noticed Paul’s work ute there, along with a couple of his men’s assorted utes and cars and his company’s truck.
Whoever the house owner was, they were lucky to have one of the best carpenters in the state. Paul was well known for his perfectionist attitude when it came to work, and his company came highly recommended. They’d even done work in other towns.
She watched in appreciation as one man balanced several heavy planks on his shoulder. His t-shirt was stretched tight across an impressive torso, the muscles outlined by his movements. Turning, he kept one gloved hand on the planks and looked up briefly just as Bill’s ute passed the house.
Harly’s breath caught. It was Alex. Obviously he was helping Paul. Just as obviously he’d caught her looking - well, staring, to be truthful - and his gaze collided with hers.
God. He was almost mesmerizing. Built like a woman’s wet dream with piercing blue eyes and a handsome, masculine face. There was nothing pretty about him, he was all hard male.
Determined male, as she’d found out.
Then the ute was past the half built house and barrelling into town.
Drawing a deep breath, Harly briefly closed her eyes. Settle down, girl. Maybe you’re not as calm as you believed. The faster beating of her heart was stress, that was all. A cup of coffee to steady herself at work and she’d be fine. Just fine.
The café was a welcome sight and meant a reprieve of her troubled thoughts. Bill pulled into the staff park behind the café. Maryanne’s car was already there, Mark shouldering his school bag and walking up the road towards the school. As Harly watched, several of Mark’s friends appeared and fell into step beside him.
Inside the café, she put her bag in the staff room and took down a clean apron, tying it around her waist. Bill went into the kitchen while Harly walked into the dining area. Going to the espresso machine, which Maryanne had already going, she poured herself a cup, added two sugars, then stood and sipped it with a sigh.
“Espresso?” Maryanne appeared by her side. “Already? That means you’re upset about something.”
“Just a few things I need to sort out.” Harly smiled reassuringly at her friend. “Nothing major.”
Maryanne looked pointedly at the cup of hot coffee.
“I didn’t sleep well. This is to help clear my thoughts.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Bill wasn’t serious when he offered.”
“Bill isn’t a heart-to-heart man.”
“That he isn’t.” Harly took another sip, the warmth of the hot coffee slipping through her, and she could swear she felt every tense muscle in her body ease. “Ah man, that hits the spot.”
“So?” Maryanne waited, her eyebrows raised.
“So nothing. It’s just a few personal things I need to sort out. I’m fine, honestly.”
“I worry about you.”
Surprised, Harly glanced up. “What for?”
“Alone in that house outside town with nothing but your dog and cats. You need a man.”
Harly nearly choked on the mouthful of coffee she’d just taken. Spluttering, she managed to gasp out, “What?”
“A man. You need a man.”
“A man?”
Maryanne nodded. “A male of the species. A bloke. A human with a donger between his legs.”
Harly’s mouth fell open. “What brought this on?”
Picking up the to-go cups, Maryanne started to fill them from the espresso machine. “Bernice was talking about Alex Lawson being back in town.”
“Well, for a visit.”
“She said he’s one hot hunk. You ought to nab him before she tries to match him up with her niece.”
“Nab him?”
“Yeah. You know, a woman has needs, Harly. You have needs.”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this.”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Maryanne filled another to-go cup. “I have needs.”
“So you go after Alex.”
“You know my husband would have something to say about that and besides, he takes care of all my needs.” Maryanne winked. “Really well, if you get my meaning.”
“I really wanted to know that.” Harly shook her head, grinning.
“So, it’s about time you get a man.”
“Honey, the eligible men in town aren’t into me.”
“Have you given them a try?”
“Offered myself around as a motorbike, be the local ride? No, I can’t say that I have.”
“I don’t mean whore yourself. Geez.” Maryanne rolled her eyes. “What about Jack or Will?”
“What about them?”
“I know they’d be happy to take you out.”
“Together? I’m not really into ménages.”
“No, you idiot. Separately.”
“Not my style, not my type. And I’m not their type.”
“Says who?”
“Maryanne, Jack is dating a slim bird from the dress shop, and Will hangs out at the local bar where he’s lusting after the delicate barmaid, Tiffany.”
“Tiffany?” Maryanne laughed. “Seriously? A barmaid called Tiffany?”
“A slim barmaid,” Harly stated. “Dainty, pretty, and wears short shorts.”
“Fine. What about-”
“No.”
“Geez, Harly, what are you gonna do if you get an itch you can’t scratch?”
“I take it you’re meaning if I get all hot and bothered?”
“Yeah. What, you have a vibrator in your bedside drawer?”
“No. I tell you what…”
“Yes?” Maryanne asked eagerly, capping the last cup and pulling out a small cardboard box.
“If I need sex, I’ll phone a man.”
“Phone?”
“Yeah.
From the personal section of the papers. Someone called Steve promises hot delights and my fantasy dreams answered, all with one dial.”
Her friend got a funny look on her face. “Is he expensive?”
“I don’t know.” Harly winked. “Maybe I’ll give him a call and find out.”
“Okay.” Fascinated for some strange reason, Maryanne added, “Why a male prostitute?”
Harly flung up her hands. “Not like there’s a lot of choice in a town like this for me, is there? I’m not a delicate, slim slip of a girl who can catch men’s attention. I’ve never met a man who thinks big women are hot. When was the last time you saw any bloke stare at me?”
“Uh…” Maryanne pointed behind her.
Expecting to see Bill, Harly laughed as she turned around, only to almost drop her half empty cup of espresso when she found herself face-to-face with Alex.
Deftly catching the cup, he straightened to hand it back to her with one eyebrow raised.
“Umm…hi.” Harly looked helplessly up at him, feeling her cheeks burn.
His gaze slid past her to Maryanne. “Paul sent me for the coffee.”
“Sure.” Turning back to the to-go cups, Maryanne started placing them in the cardboard box.
“Um - I’ve got to go and check that Bill’s all right,” Harly mumbled, making her escape by sidling past Alex, who stood aside to allow her through the door.
Once in the safety of the kitchen, she covered her face with one hand and groaned. Oh God, how much had he heard? She was going to kill her friend!
Bill cast her a curious glance. “You all right?”
“No. I’m mortified.”
“Okay.” And he went back to checking out the contents of the freezer.
Rolling her eyes, she placed her cool hands to her hot cheeks, or maybe it was that her hands were warm and her cheeks on freakin’ fire.
She was still standing like that when Maryanne came into the kitchen.
“Is he gone?” Harly hissed.
“Yep.” Maryanne grinned. “I think you made an impression on him.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Harly demanded. “How much did he hear?”
“Well, not a lot-”
“How much?”
“He asked if Steve was a local.”
“Oh, God.”