The Goodbye Girl (17 page)

“You’re thinking too hard,” N
ick drawled.

“Am I?” she
replied tightly.

“Ah.”

That knowing ‘ah’ had her almost swerving back to the side of the road to demand an explanation, but she kept the van steady on the road.  Just like her gaze.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop it.”

“How would you know what I’m thinking?”

“Honey, your face is like an open book.  I can read every expression that’s flashing across it.”

“You wish.”  She glanced at him to find the annoying, handsome sod watching the road, all calm and assured.  Bugger him.  “You’re just guessing.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, it bloody is.”

“My, my, honey, you are in a snit.”

“Don’t call me honey. And I’m not in a snit.”

His laugh was low and so amused that she wanted to kick him in the shins.  “Bree, you enjoyed that kiss.”

It wasn’t worth arguing that statement.  “So what?  Did tickling my tonsils make you a mind reader?”

“You enjoyed it and now you’re confused.  You’re trying to make sense of it and coming to all the wrong conclusions.  Doing that has made you defensive.  Now you want to kick my arse out of the van and leave me on the side of the road.”

“My God, you
are
a mind reader.  Any particular part of the road you fancy?”

“Your driveway, actually.”

“Huh.”

Watching the scenery pass, h
e continued to sit in pleasant silence.  He stayed like that right up until she pulled the van to a stop beside his Landcruiser.

Turning off the engine, Bree sat staring out of the
windscreen, waiting for him to get out of the van.

It was no real surprise when he simply unclipped his seatbelt and didn’t get out.  It
was
a surprise when he was suddenly in her vision as he unclipped her seatbelt and leaned over to slide it securely into place on the wall.  He was so damned warm near her, his male scent so damned yummy in her nose, and his profile so damned handsome to her eyes.

Talk about a virtual
sensory feast.  She could gorge herself quite happily on it.

His movements were calm and definite, just like the man himself
.  Turning his head to look down at her, he braced his hand on the headrest at the side of her head, his other hand against the windowsill of the door.

Too close. He could see too much.  She swallowed.

“Talk to me,” he demanded softly.

“
Nothing to say,” she croaked.

“
Try again.”

“Really.  Nothing.”

“Try again.”

“Are you just going to keep
repeating that phrase until I cave?  Because I’m telling you right now, it’s not a good form of interrogation.”

Nick just kept looking at her.

“This is ridiculous,” she finally said.

“If something is troubling you, it’s not ridiculous.”

That warmed her a little, but still…

“Why is one kiss such a
traumatic event for you?”

“It was two, actually.  And it wasn’t
traumatic.”  Her cheeks flamed in memory.  God, it had been awesome.

“Right now you’re
acting like you resent me.  What have I done to upset you so much? If it’s the kiss, I refuse to be sorry for it.  I enjoyed it, I know you enjoyed it, I just don’t understand this whole resentment thing.”

Man, he really liked to get down to the nitty-gritty, didn’t he?  Bree met his gaze,
finding it as she expected, honest and forthright.  “There’s no hiding anything from you, is there?”

His head angled just a little, the afternoon sun catching a couple
of gold highlights in his fair hair.  It was thick hair and she bet it was soft.  If he hadn’t worn it military short, it would flop all over his eyebrows.

“Bree,” he said quietly.  “Please talk to me.”

Sighing, she slumped back in the seat.  “I’m not really that good at talking about my feelings.”

“You write great letters.”  Unexpectedly, he took his hand from the headrest and stuck it out in front of her.  “Hi, I’m Nick Mason.  You’ve been keeping me smiling while I’ve been in
Afghanistan, you’ve been keeping me company.  I’ve really wanted to meet you, Bree.”

Holy crap
.  Bree stared at him, the sincerity in his eyes, the amusement, the patience, and the whole absurdity of the situation tickled her funny bone.  A small smile quirked her lips and she took his hand, immediately felt his fingers close gently but firmly around hers.  “Hi, Nick.  I’m Bree Ford.  I’ve enjoyed writing to you, enjoyed reading your replies. I have a feeling I’m not quite what you expected.”

 
His smile was sudden, strong, almost devastating in its brilliance.  “You’re exactly like your letters, Bree.”

Pleasure slid through her.  “Really?”

“Yeah.  But there’s hidden depths to you that doesn’t come through them, things you’ve never discussed.”

“One has to be careful what one puts in letters that go through military channels.”

Nick laughed.  “Why am I not surprised?”

“Because you’re too good at reading people.”

“Hmm.”  He studied her.

“See, that there is a good interrogation technique.’

He raised one eyebrow.

“All that silence and watching and shit.  Makes one spill their guts from nerves.”

His smile this time was slow and deliberate.

Bree felt that smile all the way to her core and she cleared her throat.  “So, Nick Mason.  How about we just go inside and have a cuppa and a chat?”

“Bree Ford, that is one of the top wants on my wish list.”  Nick slid back into his seat.

This time when he had the
side door open for her, she didn’t feel so resentful.  Man, she had to get a grip on herself, especially when she saw his jeans tight across his backside when he leaned in to retrieve the backpack.  The man had a great arse.

God, her
emotions were all over the place.  The man was turning her into a basket case.  Or maybe her mother had done that a long time ago, she did have a choice of who to blame.  It was just that she thought she had herself sorted, then along came soldier boy with his warm smile, warm eyes, and hot, hot mouth. 
Oh boy
.

Shaking that thought away,
she reached for the backpack, but Nick swung it up over one broad shoulder, slung his arm around her shoulders, and deftly guided her over to the veranda.

“You’re doing it again,” she pointed out, half annoyed and
half enjoying the sensation of his hard body against her. 

So someone shoot her, the man
had a great body.

“I have control issues,” he replied.

“You don’t say.”

“It seems to
get worse around you.”

“Oh, that’s comforting.  And you think I should let you into the house with me after that confession?”

“Honey.” Affection and amusement were mixed together in the one word.

Fitting the key into the security screen lock, Bree looked up at him.  “Just remember, I have my own air raid siren for protection.”

“Duly noted, General.”

Nick held the security screen open while she unlocked the wooden door and followed her in, the security screen clicking shut behind him.

There came a scrabble of claws, something fell, and Bast skidded into the hallway, doing her claws-in-the-runner momentum.  Spotting Bree, she ran full pelt along the hallway and launched herself onto the hallway table, where she padded her blue paws on the surface and meowed.

“Is this the weapon of
mass destruction?” Nick asked, scratching her behind the ears while lowering the backpack to the floor.

“How did you guess?”

“Intuition.”

The man had a lot of that, Bree thought as she went into the kitchen.  “What do you fancy to drink?”

“Coffee, please.”

Plugging
in the kettle, she set out the mugs and cut several chunks of cake.  Placing them on a small plate, she waited for Nick to appear.  When he didn’t, she went back out into the hallway to see what he was doing.

Hands in his pockets, Nick was looking with interest at the photos on the wall.

Walking up beside him, Bree looked at the photos.  “Parts of my childhood.”

“You lived in a camper van?”

“Yeah.  We travelled from place to place a lot.”

“You and your Mum.”

“Yeah.”

His gaze slid to the
other photos.  “I don’t see your Dad here.”

“That’s because the only photo I had of him disappeared during our travels.”  Bree
paused.  “Thanks to one of Mum’s boyfriends.”

That
had Nick looking down at her.  “I’m sorry.”

That was unexpected.  “Thank you.”  When he said nothing further, she raised
her eyebrows.

He simply gazed back down at her.

“No further questions?” she queried.

“I
figure you’ll tell me what you want me to know.”

“
Aren’t you even a little curious?”

“Yep.”

“You’re a strange man, Nick.”

There went that engaging crinkle at the corners of his eyes, that sign of amusement that made her want to smile right back at him.

He looked back up at the photos.  “You lived in a lot of places.”

“Yep.”

“Any one in particular was your favourite place?”

“Right here.” 
Tilting her head back, she took a deep breath.  “Whicha.  Here is where I’ve chosen to set my roots down, to buy a house, settle down.”

“Different to travelling.”

“Very different.  But it feels right.”

“Think you’ll ever change your mind?”

“Nope.”  She said it with complete conviction.  “I know it. Deep in my bones, I know this is the place for me.  This is home.”

“Whicha has
that effect on people,” he murmured.  “What are these photos?  Are they what I think they are?”

She followed his gaze.  “Ah.  Now these are UFO photos.”  She pointed to one.  “This one we sighted when we were travelling on one of our hunts across
the Nullarbor.   Lots of strange things out on the Nullarbor.  The photo below it was one we took in the Blue Mountains.  People have gone missing there, you know.”

Nick glanced down at her.

“Cross my heart.”  Bree made the motion across her chest, startled when his eyes darkened a fraction, the pupils dilating.  Before she could think if she’d imagined it, he transferred his gaze back to the photos.

Whoo boy
.  That was no imagination.  But seeing as how he wasn’t doing anything else, she took refuge in continuing describing the photos.  “This one we spotted when we were on a fishing boat off the Abrolhos Reef.”

“The
Nullarbor one shows a triangular-looking thing, The Blue Mountains a distant disc, and this one,” Nick tapped the Abrolhos Reef photo, “a light.”

“See that stream behind it?  It was going so fast it blurred.  This was the best we could get after Jackie worked on it.”

“Worked on it?”

“Enlarged it, tried to bring out the spaceship.  Didn’t work, the b
lurring just got worse.  But she did the best she could, and here we are.”  Pausing, she folded her arms, waited.

Nick silently re
garded the photos.

“How much
more do you want to know?” Bree asked.

“However much you’ll tell me.”

“Will you reciprocate?”

“Honey, my life is an open book.  You ask, I’ll answer.”

“So you’ll tell me everything?”

His
eyes glinted with amusement.  “Apart from confessions of our alien conspiracy.  That’s top secret.”

“I’d expect no less.”  Smiling, she
turned around.  “I’ll make the cuppas and meet you on the veranda.  It’s nice sitting out there listening to the birds.  Unless you prefer the lounge?”

“
Veranda is fine.  I have a liking for swing chairs.”

“Something we have in common.”

However, instead of going out, Nick followed her into the kitchen.  “I’ll help.”

It wasn’t long and they were sitting side by side on the
swing chair, sipping on the coffee, the plate of cake on the veranda railing.  Bast was stalking a butterfly along the other railing and managed to fall off.

“Weapon of mass destruction,” Nick commented.

Sheba let loose with an air-splitting wail from the open doorway.