Flirting With Danger (9 page)

“Good to meet you, Bernard.” He stepped forward, hand outstretched.

The other man shook his hand, but with an expression that told him he hadn’t been
accepted on face value.

Jasmine’s father turned back to her. “You could have asked me if you needed help,
Jazzy. Or any of your brothers. You didn’t have to ask a stranger.”

“He’s not a stranger, Dad. We work together. And I didn’t ask, he offered.”

“Why would he do that?” Her father’s eyes narrowed as he shot a suspicious look at
Aaron. “What’s he after?”

“I’m returning a favor,” Aaron said with a shrug. “Repaying a debt.”

One by one, the brothers set coolers on the ground. It appeared that they intended
to stay for some time.

Jasmine had seen them too. “What are you all doing here?”

Bernard said, “Did you forget your birthday?”

“No, but it’s days away yet.”

“We thought we’d get in early and bring over a barbecue. We wanted to surprise you.”

“You succeeded. But what if I hadn’t been here?”

“You’re always here when you’re not at work, and I knew you weren’t rostered on.”

“Not always.”

“Ah well, we’d have had a wasted trip, but we didn’t so it doesn’t matter, does it?
Come on, let’s get the charcoal fired up.”

Aaron waited for the crowd to make its way down the driveway to the back gate, then
retrieved the shirt he’d taken off earlier. “I’ll get out of the way. I’ll finish
this tomorrow. When is your birthday, by the way?”

“Next Saturday.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t go. Stay and have some lunch.
Knowing that lot, they’ll have brought loads of food.”

“I have a feeling your father might object.”

“He can’t. It’s my house, my birthday lunch, my choice who gets to stay. You should
know, though, that he’ll probably interrogate you. Just ignore him if he does.”

Yeah, like that will work
, Aaron thought, but he nodded. He rather liked the fact that Jasmine wanted him to
stay in spite of what her family might think.

…

Jasmine wasn’t sure why she’d been so determined that Aaron should stay, especially
since she’d known that her family would see him as a potential boyfriend and do their
utmost to embarrass her. Luckily, Aaron didn’t seem to intimidate easily, and as he
clearly had no intention of getting involved with her, he was able to deflect most
of their questions.

She looked at him now, swapping football stories with her brothers Rob and Mitch,
and as had happened almost every time, he seemed to sense her gaze on him and met
her eyes. She gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. He crossed his eyes
in response. Shaking her head as she turned away, but still grinning, she came face-to-face
with her oldest brother, Leon.

“I haven’t made up my mind about him yet,” Leon said. “How serious is this?”

“Not serious at all, Leon. I’ve told you, I’ve told everybody. We. Are. Not. Dating.”

She heard the rasp as Leon ran a hand along his stubbled jaw. “Thing is, Jazzy, he
does want to date you.”

Barely able to control her gasp of surprise, she said, “How do you know? Did he say
something?”

Leon looked down at her with an amused half smile. “Look at you, as excited as a teenager.”

“I’m not.” A new and unexpected warmth surged from her fingertips to her toes. Could
it be true? The thud of her pulse was her only answer, and she needed to know more.
She whacked Leon’s arm. “Tell me what he said.”

Leon rubbed his arm, amusement flickering in the eyes that met hers. “He didn’t say
anything. He didn’t need to. Trust me, a man knows these things.”

“Oh, right, because you’re
so
sensitive.” She rolled her eyes.

Leon laughed. “I don’t need to be sensitive to see the way he looks at you, and I’m
telling you, that man is—“

He broke off as their father joined them. What? Aaron was what? She felt a scream
of frustration like a hot ache at the back of her throat, and she tried to listen
to her father, she really did, but it was all she could do to keep her gaze from drifting
in Aaron’s direction every few moments and wondering—no, in all honesty,
hoping
—that Leon was right.

Chapter Ten

The impromptu party was winding down and Aaron found himself assigned to table-clearing
duties by Liz, Rob’s girlfriend. Arms piled high with plates and debris, he followed
her into the kitchen, where she unburdened him, bit by bit.

“You really like her, don’t you?”

Aaron cleared his throat, but before he could trot out his line about Jasmine being
a colleague and how he cared about her as much as he cared about any of the team,
Liz broke into a grin.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to question you about your intentions,” she said. “I think
it’s about time Jasmine found someone. I know she was hurt badly, and I know the guys
are really protective of her because of that, but it’s been a long time now.”

He frowned. “What’s been a long time?”

Liz paused, a plate of sausages half-wrapped. “You know…since Craig cheated on her
and broke her heart.” She peered more closely at him. “Oh, you didn’t know about that?”

“No. She doesn’t talk about her past.”

“I see.” Liz forced the sausages into the already full fridge. “Better forget I said
anything, then.” After slamming the fridge door shut, she swung around to face him.
“Word of advice, though. Don’t ever tell her she looks like her mother.”

“I wouldn’t say that. I’ve never even seen a picture of her mother.”

“Oh, right.”

“But if I had, why shouldn’t I comment on a resemblance, if there is one?”

“Because that would be her worst nightmare. Their mother did something bad, and none
of them—” She jerked her head toward the back garden. “None of them have forgiven
her or recovered from the pain.”

“I thought she was dead?”

“She died in a car crash. The driver was Bernard’s best friend, and the two of them
had just left an isolated hotel where they’d spent the weekend, unbeknown to either
of their spouses. The kids of both families had grown up together and they were all
devastated.”

His chest ached for Jasmine.

“Mind you,” Liz went on as she took the remaining plates from his arms, “it wasn’t
the first affair their mother had had, by all accounts. Rob doesn’t say much, but
from the little I’ve heard, she sounds like a very selfish woman. Poor Jasmine has
been trying to prove to the outside world that she’s not like her mother ever since.”

Aaron heard the door open behind him, but he was frozen to the spot. Liz had dumped
a pile of information on him in a very short time and he was still trying to assimilate
it.

“You’re in the way, lad.”

Startled, Aaron stepped aside to allow Bernard access to the kitchen. Bernard drew
level with him and said, “You’d better not be toying with my daughter’s affections,
lad. I don’t want to see her hurt.”

“We’re not—”

“Not dating. I’ve heard what you’ve both said. And now you’ve heard what I have to
say, right?”

Aaron stiffened. No one seemed to be giving Jasmine credit for overcoming whatever
traumas were in her past and becoming the strong woman she was today. “You know what,
Bernard? Your daughter is capable of looking after herself. She’s intelligent and
far too sensible to get mixed up with someone like me. Excuse me.”

Aaron made his way outside. One glance found Jasmine talking to the girlfriend of
her brother Brad. She looked his way and smiled, then excused herself from the conversation
and limped over to him.

“Do you wish you hadn’t stayed now?”

“No.” He could honestly say that wasn’t the case. If he hadn’t stayed, he wouldn’t
have learned this new information about her. Information that went some way toward
explaining her attitude toward him, and her behavior in general. He couldn’t blame
her for putting up barriers to protect herself. The trouble was, the more he knew
about her, the more he wanted to break those barriers down.

How perverse was that?

Bernard was right—he wasn’t the settling-down type, which meant he was the wrong person
to get close to Jasmine. But for all their differences, they had something in common
too. He knew how it felt to be hurt by a parent. If anyone could understand how the
past had affected her, it was him.

“I’m impressed,” she said.

“Don’t be. Your father doesn’t like me. I don’t have
irresponsible heartbreaker
tattooed on my forehead, do I?”

She leaned forward as if to check, and the sun-warmed scent of her skin wafted up
to him, tangling with his senses and making him stifle a physical reaction.

“No, but it could be arranged. Brad knows someone—”

“Thanks, I’ll pass. I already feel like I’ve had hot needles poked under my fingernails.”

She grimaced. “Were they that bad?”

Nodding, he said, “Don’t worry, I told them that you’re like a sister to me, and that
mollified them.” He recalled Bernard’s menacing glare. “They have a right to be this
way; they care about you.”

He hadn’t used the word
sister
, and if he had it would have been a lie, but right now it seemed like the best way
to reassure her that he hadn’t given her family reason to act even more protectively.

Then she got distracted by people gathering their belongings, and he took the opportunity
to stare at the curve of her cheek, the line of her neck, and wonder about the man
who’d broken her heart—and whether her family had let him escape unscathed. It was
a pity he hadn’t had more time alone with Liz; given the chance, he would have found
out every detail she knew.

…

The next day when Aaron arrived, her chair was still in the front garden, so she settled
down to read while he worked. Not that she could concentrate on her book, though.
Overnight she’d replayed her brief conversation with Leon again and again. Each time
her heart rate spiked, only to dip again when she recalled Aaron saying that she was
like a sister to him. Somehow she had to make up her mind whether she wanted him to
be attracted to her, or not. And if she did, she had to find a way to stop him seeing
her as a sister.

Aaron was spreading tile adhesive onto the concrete base, and appeared to be concentrating,
so she was surprised when he said, “I noticed that there were no photos of your mother
on display.” He paused while he replaced the lid on the tub. “Why is that?”

She shrugged. “Because I don’t have any.” She watched his hands as he began to arrange
the small mosaic tiles on the adhesive.

“That’s unusual, isn’t it? Don’t you have any from when she was young?”

Her eyes narrowed. “What’s this about?”

“I’m interested.”

“In my mother?”

“Not really. It’s just something that Liz said.”

“I suppose she said that I look like my mother, but I don’t. I’m nothing like her.
Nothing at all.” She huffed out a breath. “Liz has a big mouth.”

“She gave me some friendly advice.”

“How friendly? Rob’s got a black belt in karate, you know.”

“She had your best interests in mind when she told me about the accident.”

Jasmine stared, then lifted one shoulder. “I’m sure she did, but that doesn’t give
her the right to talk about this with someone outside the family.”

He pressed down on the tile he was fixing, then swiveled on his heels to face her.
“You tell me. I’d rather hear it from you.”

She shook her head, closed her eyes, then drew in a deep breath before opening her
eyes again. “My mother was exceptionally beautiful. I look a little bit like her when
I’m dressed up and wearing makeup. Most of the time, I don’t.”

“She couldn’t have looked perfect all the time.”

“Oh, but she did. She was obsessed by her looks, and using them to get her way. It
didn’t matter if we were late for school, or even whether we’d had breakfast before
leaving the house, as long as her hair and makeup were flawless, and her clothes were
sexy. She wouldn’t have been seen dead in frumpy clothes.”

That was more than she’d meant to say, and the last few words made her sound callous,
she realized, but they’d spilled out, because they were true.

“Anyway, if I did have any pictures, I wouldn’t put them on display out of respect
for my dad. He went through hell for most of his married life, and then she’d use
the same charm offensive on him that she used on all the other men. He could see what
she was doing, but he was helpless to resist.”

“So, you rebelled against her by doing the opposite?”

“I didn’t
rebel
. I’m just not like her.”

“Liz told me about the accident.” He stopped arranging tiles and turned to face her.
“I’m sorry. It must have been horrible for you.”

“It was.” The memory made her eyes sting, but she would not cry. She stared straight
ahead, seeing only the events of that day. “I was upset for my father, losing both
his wife and his best friend, and for the embarrassment he had to go through, that
we all had to go through, and about the sense of betrayal, and losing my friends,
because we never saw the other family again. And somewhere down the list, I was upset
about losing my mother, although even then, I knew she didn’t really care about me.”

A point that had been brought home to her when she’d been taken sick at school one
day. Nothing serious. A tummy bug, that was all. She’d thrown up in the classroom
and the humiliation had been horrendous. That, on top of the pain in her stomach and
the unfamiliar nausea, had made her feel very sorry for herself. The school had summoned
her mother, but when she’d arrived, there had been no hug, and no comforting words
either.

It was the first time that tomboy Jasmine had really
needed
a cuddle, and all her mother had done was complain about having to endure the smell
of sickness in her car and warn her not to get too close in her smelly clothes.

It had hurt. A lot.

She blinked rapidly. “She used to flirt and exploit her looks to get whatever she
wanted. Can you blame me for wanting to show them all, my dad and my brothers, even
myself, I suppose, that I really wasn’t like her in any way?”

“No.” He shook his head.

“I was already a tomboy from hanging out with the four boys. I just accentuated that
part of my personality, and played down the feminine side.”

“I understand, but I reckon they’ve got the message by now. They know you. You don’t
have to keep up the facade.”

“It’s not a facade. This is how I am.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with how you are. Far from
it. But if you did want to, say, wear a pretty dress or have your hair done, I bet
none of your family would have anything negative to say about it. And if you asked
them for help, I’m sure they’d find that perfectly natural. They wouldn’t think less
of you for it.”

In the early years her mother had forced her to wear dresses that were totally impractical
for playing outside with her brothers, then, as she began to grow up, things had changed.
Jasmine had begun to resemble her mother, and despite her refusal to wear makeup or
style her hair or do anything designed to enhance her looks, her mother had treated
her like a threat, as if she were vying for the male attention that her mother seemed
to crave.

That wasn’t normal, was it?

Surely a mother shouldn’t see her own daughter as a rival?

Aaron’s phone rang, and he stood while he dug it out of his pocket. His face lit up
when he saw who was calling, and Jasmine fought down a spike of jealousy. Ridiculous.
As if she had any right to be jealous. She didn’t even
want
the right, but it was impossible to have a conversation like they’d just had without
feeling closer. She’d shared some very personal stuff, unloaded some heavy baggage
on him, and it was only natural to feel an emotional connection, she was sure.

He listened to the speaker then said, “Tonight?” He gave her an apologetic glance
and moved away from the veranda to continue the conversation.

When he came back she had her nose buried in her book, determined not to look as if
she cared who he’d been talking to.

“That was Joe’s brother.”

She looked up, taking a moment to work out who he meant. “Joe…as in, your friend,
the firefighter?”

And brother, as in, not female?

He nodded. “He owns a venue that’s being used for the Fringe Festival. He’s putting
on a private party for opening night in Joe’s memory because it’s the anniversary
of his death. He asked me to go. I couldn’t really say no, considering the circumstances.”

“Oh, no, of course you couldn’t. That sounds good.”

“It is. I haven’t seen Tony for ages. It will be great to catch up with him again.
We used to play football together on the team that Joe coached.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He wants me to take a partner. Someone to dance with. I think he’s concerned about
having an empty dance floor.”

“Right.” His frankness was unwelcome. She didn’t want to picture Aaron dancing with
some beautiful woman.

“So, what about it? How’s your ankle? Is it up to dancing?”

Frowning, she said, “It’s okay, but—”

“Come to Tony’s party with me.”

She took a sharp breath. As quickly as excitement had bubbled up, she stomped it back
down. “I don’t know.”

“Give me one good reason why not.”

“I’ve got things to do.”

“Not good enough.” His eyes narrowed. “When was the last time you went out for fun?
And no, Leanne’s wedding doesn’t count because you had no choice about that.”

“I go out. I meet Sasha for a drink sometimes.” Or at least, she used to. That hadn’t
happened since Kane had appeared on the scene.

“Is that it?”

She glared at him. “I don’t need to go out to be happy. I like being on my own.”

“You know, Jasmine, there are two types of people: those who write themselves a bucket
list, and those who’ve already done it all.”

“That’s deep for you. I thought the only depth you liked was in your girlfriends’
necklines.”

“You give me a hard time, but I’m really a nice guy.”

“Oh, please.”