Tatted Cowboy (8 page)

LAURA

Friends.  Just friends.  I can do friends.
  Over and over, I try to convince myself, but I know deep down it’s to no avail.

Being the sneaky old bat she is, Gran decided to call Luke up and take him up on his offer of helping me move.  I had fully planned on ‘forgetting’ all about his offer, but clearly Gran had other ideas.  She didn’t bother to tell me before she called, no, because she knew I’d do everything in my power to stop her calling.  Instead, she just walked out of the house, calling it out to me as she passed by, like she was telling me the day would be mildly overcast.

“Oh, by the way, Luke will be here shortly to help out.”

Damn woman!

So now, she is dutifully avoiding me by busying herself packing up some of her knick-knacks she is handing down to me.  I walk past, catching her eye as she watches me.  She quickly pretends to wipe some invisible dust off the ornament, a small smile playing on her lips.

I shake my head and cart more boxes from my bedroom to near the front door, where I’ve been stacking them before I load them into my car.

I hear a knock on the front door and walk out, expecting to see Luke.  I’m not going to lie, my heart starts beating funny and my hands are suddenly sweaty.  They soon dry up and my heart returns to its normal rhythm when I see my mum and dad standing in the kitchen.

The smile on my face threatens to split my cheeks.  “Hey, Dad.  Hey, Mum.”  I quickly walk up to them, going into my dad’s arms first.  He holds me tight, giving me an extra squeeze before he releases me.

“You look…”  He pauses to shake his head slightly.  “Laura,” he says, his voice cracking with emotion. “You look so good, darlin’.  So alive,” he chokes out, whispering the last word.  His eyes fill with unshed tears, causing my own to burn.  It’s in this moment I begin to realize the depth of pain my parents have been feeling.  Not only did they lose their grandson, but for a while, they lost me, too.

I go up on my toes to kiss his cheek.  “I’m really happy here, Dad,” I tell him honestly.  I smooth back a stray strand of his salt and pepper hair and smile at him. 

I feel a hand on my arm as Mum pulls me around to her.  “I’ve missed you,” she whispers in my ear, meaning every word.  “But, this was the right thing for you to do.  I’m so proud of you, honey.”

“Thanks, Mum.”  My tears spill over and slide down my cheeks, unchecked.

“Enough of those tears,” she laughs, wiping her own away.  “Let’s get you moved. I can’t wait to see the house. Gran said it’s beautiful.”

“It is,” I confirm.  “You’ll love it.”

“Oh! Look who’s here,” Gran says with a clap.

I feel him before I see him.  My skin starts buzzing, the vibrations getting stronger with every step he takes toward me.

“Mornin’ all,” he greets, his husky tone washing over me.

I turn and give him a friendly smile.  “Morning, Luke.  You really didn’t have to help. I’m sure you’ve got a lot more exciting things to be doing with your day than helping me move.”  I’m not trying to come across as ungrateful, because it is really nice that he offered.  But, I’m sure he was only trying to be nice when he said he’d help. Gran didn’t have to take him up on it.

“It’s fine. I’m happy to help.”  He gives me a look to say he’s not bullshitting me, then he turns to my parents.  “G’day, I’m Luke.”  He holds out his hand to my father, who takes it immediately.  I watch as Dad smiles wide.  “Mitch Carlisle.  This is my wife, Leesa.”

I watch as Luke leans in to give my mum a quick peck on the cheek.  “Nice to meet you, Leesa.”

“You too, Luke.”  I see her eyes go to his muscular arms.  “You certainly look like you’ll be able to handle moving a few boxes.” A pink tinge settles across her cheeks.

I groan, slapping my hand over my face. “Jesus, Mum.”  You would think she was a bloody teenager, the way she’s acting.

Dad cocks his eyebrow at Mum, a smirk playing on his lips.  “Really, Leesa?” he asks, humorous disbelief in his tone.

“Oh, be quiet.”  She slaps his arm gently and walks out of the room.  “These boxes won’t move themselves,” she calls.

Dad and Gran follow her out, leaving Luke and me alone.  I glance around awkwardly before meeting his eyes.

“Thank you for doing this.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t done anything.” He smiles and throws me a wink.

Why does he have to be so good looking?
  A pair of faded blue jeans cover the bottom half of his body and he’s got a navy blue button-up shirt on top.  Its short sleeves cover the tattoos on his upper arms, but the rest are visible. 
So hot.

“Ready?” he asks, raising his eyebrows, as he catches me checking out his ink.

“Uh, yeah. Let’s go.” I rush out of the room, my cheeks burning. 
I need to act my fucking age, I must get that little trait from my mother!

***

Lifting the box of kitchen stuff from the back of the truck, I groan, taking the full weight of it. Damn, this one is heavy. It’s marked fragile, so I’m careful not to drop it as I walk up the stairs and through house, depositing it on the floor in the kitchen.  I wipe the sweat from my forehead with my arm and take a deep breath.

Gee, it heated up quickly today.

My short denim shorts feel damp with sweat and there’re wet patches under my boobs on my tank top. I’m not game enough to look under my arms… My hair is matted to my head and all I want to do is go jump in a swimming pool to cool off.

“Laura, you in here?” Dad calls.

“In the kitchen,” I yell back.  I grab my water bottle off the sink and take a big mouthful.  So good.

“We’re going to move the bed in now. Come and tell us where you want it positioned.”

“‘Kay.”

I follow him down the hall and wait at the front door while he walks over to the truck.  Luke comes from the side of the house to give Dad a hand and my mouth goes dry.

After we’d been here for about an hour, he lost the shirt he had on, leaving him in a white wife beater.  But now, now the wife beater is half tucked in to the back pocket of his jeans, leaving him with nothing covering the bronzed wall of muscle that is his torso.  Beads of sweat glisten in the sun, making his skin shimmer. His muscles flex, each one clearly defined as he lifts one end of the heavy frame of my wooden bed.

Walking backwards to me, my eyes are glued to his arse, hidden behind the snug fitting jeans hanging in
that way
from his hips.  So fucking sexy!

“You might want to move, love.  The boys need to get through the doorway.  And, wipe the drool from your chin, dear,” Grans whispers in my ear as she shuffles past me, a burst of laughter escaping her lips.

I quickly move to hold the door open as far as it will go and then follow behind them into the master room.

They arrange my bed in the space where I want it and then leave the room so I can put the bedding on.

First, I think I’ll put up the new curtains I bought.  Bending down, I grab the package from the corner where I placed it, and I hear a sharp intake of breath from behind.  Spinning around, I see Luke leaning up against the doorframe.  He looks me over, desire burning in his eyes.

“You want some help?”

“Sure,” I find myself saying.

He saunters –
yes, saunters
– over to me and takes the package from my hand, tearing the plastic open. 

“You take one end, I’ll take the other,” he informs me.  He starts walking over to my bed and I stifle back a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“They’re the curtains,” I say through a smile.

He looks down at the fabric, as if just noticing it for the first time.  The white lace looks even brighter against the tanned skin of his hands.

“You know what I think is funny?” he asks, stalking towards me.  I back up, matching him step for step until my back slams up against the wall.

“What?” I ask, my eyes darting to the door, judging whether I can make it across the room and out the door.  My skin feels like it’s on fire.  He is standing so close to me,
so close,
but he’s not touching me.  There is a breath of air between us.  I want him to crash into me, pin me to the wall and have his way with me.

No, I don’t. I want him to step back. Away from me.  I can’t handle the heat.  My body throbs as his eyes pierce into me.

“Tickling,” he whispers, his breath skating over my skin.

“Huh?”  I frown.  My brain feels foggy.  I don’t know what he’s talking about.

“Tickling someone is funny.”  His eyes sparkle with mischief and then he steps back, but not for long.  Leaning down, his shoulder meets my stomach and he boosts me up over him. 

“Argh!  Luke! 
Luke. 
Put me down,” I screech, my fingers digging into the back of his solid thighs.  His arse is right in front of my face and
God
, I want to take a bite of it!

He shifts my body and then I’m flying through the air.  I land on the mattress and then he’s straddling me.  He waggles his fingers over me.  “Ready?”

“No.  Luke.  Don’t tickle me.”  I try to speak sternly but I can’t help my laughter.

His fingers make contact with my ribs and he tickles the living shit out of me.  I squirm, trying to get away from him, but I can’t move.  I thrash about, all the while laughing uncontrollable.

“Stop.  Mercy, please, stop.  I’m gonna pee,” I finally cry out.

He stops immediately.

“Best sound in the world,” he whispers in my ear.  “Now, go pee. Wouldn’t want you to ruin your mattress.” He goes to shift off me, but stops, hovering above me.  His arms hold his weight beside my head.  His knees are bent, pressing against my side.  A look I can’t decipher flashes across his face as he stares deep into my eyes.  And, then he’s gone and my entire body shivers, cold from the loss of his heat.

I stand, straightening my top and trying to gather my thoughts.

“There’re a few more boxes.  I’ll go get them in and then I’ll hang those curtains while you make the bed.”

“Yep.”  I turn and walk into the bathroom attached to my bedroom.  Splashing my face with cold water, I again, tell myself to act my age.  It’s almost laughable, the effect he’s having on me.  How ridiculous is it that someone I’ve just met can control my emotions the way he can.  Maybe that’s what lust is. Maybe it has that effect on everyone.  I’ve never felt lust this strong before, but there’s always that possibility.

No matter what the cause, I need to set some clear boundaries.  I need to explain to Luke that friendship is all I can offer.  We won’t be acting on the lust-filled thoughts I keep having.

Oh god.  A thought occurs to me. What if
I’m
the only one having these thoughts?  What if, in my lust-induced haze, I’ve completely imagined every blaze of heat I’ve seen in his eyes?

I never have been that good at reading people. 

I look at myself in the mirror as I contemplate.  My teeth sink into my bottom lip and his words pop into my head.

‘Because I want to do it.’

I’m so confused.  Maybe I just need to take a step back and just relax.  Stop worrying about everything.

Just take one minute at a time.
  Words from my counsellor after I lost Gus ring in my ears and I realize that’s exactly what I need to do.  I just need to take one minute at a time and stop thinking about the future.

***

“This house is beautiful.  You did good. I can’t wait to see the salon, darlin’.”

“Thanks, Mum.”  I take a bite of my pizza, chew and swallow before continuing.  “I’ll take you and Dad down in the morning, if you like.  I took before and after pictures, but they’re in a box somewhere.”  I grimace.

“Tomorrow’s great. We’re here until Sunday or Monday.  Give you a chance to put your father to use.” 

“Sounds good. I have some picture hanging he can do and I’m sure I can find some other jobs to keep him occupied.” 

Cracking the top off my beer, I stretch back in my chair and look around my new backyard.  It’s gorgeous.  I love it.  So green and shady.  Peaceful and secluded.  It’s like my own little patch of heaven.

After unloading the last box and unpacking the necessities, it was getting dark so we decided to sit out in the backyard with pizzas and beers.  Luke and Dad have been chatting away on the opposite side of my outdoor table and I’ve been trying to listen in while still holding conversations with Gran and Mum. 

“Gran said you caught up with Ava a couple of weeks ago?” Mum asks.

“Yeah, I did.  I had drinks with her and her two friends, Edie and Jules.  It was a good night.”  I smile.  It was a good night, for the most part.

“That’s good.  Ava always was a good kid.”

“She’s hardly changed a bit, even though she’s married now.  Did Gran tell you she married Jeremy Henley?”

Mum nods.  “Yes, she mentioned it on the phone when we were chatting the other day.  “She also mentioned Luke,” she leans in whispering.