The Goodbye Girl (21 page)

“It might not have been me.”

“We have a date, right?”

“Yes.”  He walked down the hallway, stepping
over Bast, who was lying right in the middle of the hallway runner clutching a feather duster she was kicking to death.

“So why wouldn’t it have been you?”  Her head disappeared from view.

Turning into the lounge, Nick replied, “What if I’d been late?”

“Let’s not play the ‘what if’ game, okay?”  She gestured to him from where she sat at a little table against the window.  “Check this out.”

“We’re not playing ‘what if’.  Keep your doors locked when you’re here by yourself.”  Coming to a stop behind her, he tugged her ponytail gently.  “Understood?”

“Yes, Sir!” 
She snapped off a salute without looking at him, her attention on the open laptop.

“How about a nicer greeting?” 
Using her ponytail to gently pull her head back so that she was looking up at him, Nick dropped a kiss on her surprised mouth.

Man, he could have kissed her all night, licked her right out, but he was determined to go softly.  Subtly.  Ravaging her mouth wasn’t on the agenda right now.

Damn shame, that.

Lifting his head, he smiled down at her face.  Yep, definitely a little dreamy looking now.  “Hi, Bree.”

“Hi, Nick.”  A smile wreathed her lips - those rosy, kissable lips -
stop it!
- and a definite blush was in her cheeks.

God, she was cute
when flustered.  Cute enough to -
Jesus, get a grip!

Controlling his libido which was threatening to go off in all lusty directions, Nick let her ponytail go, braced both hands on the back of the chair and looked over her head at the laptop.  “
Check what out?”

“What?”  She blinked, her head tipping forward as she cleared her throat.  “Oh - ah.  This.  See this?”

“Forest?  Trees?  Bushes?  Am I looking for Sheba?”

“Why would Sheba be in this photo?”

“Then what am I looking for?”

“What do you see?”

He scrutinized the photo.  Trees, bushes.  “Nature?”

“What else?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay.  What about this?”  A click of the mouse and another photo came up.  Similar scenery.  “See anything unusual;?”

It dawned on him.  “These are the scenes from Ted’s place?”

“Yep.  See anything unusual?”

“To be honest, no.”

“Exactly.”  Half turning in the chair, she looked up at him triumphantly.  “Nothing.”

“And this is a good thing?” he asked slowly.

“Depending on your point of view.  Of course it’s disappointing that there’s no sign of UFOs, extraterrestrial activity, not even a tiny boot print.  Just as it was disappointing not to pick up any fluctuations in the electromagnetic fields.”

“Uh huh.”

“However, we now know that it
was most likely teenagers playing silly buggers out in the fields.”

“Forest, actually.  The field was empty.”

“Whatever.”  She beamed up at him.

He studied her face.  “You’re a strange woman, Bree Ford.”

“Why?”

“You seem happy, yet you found nothing.”

“Hey, I’ve solved a mystery.  That’s progress.”

He couldn’t help but grin.

Standing up, she moved past him.  “So, we ready to go?”

“I’m here waiting.”

“And I’m ready.  Man, I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.”  She paused.  “Not that I ever have.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to have.”

“Just so you know, some countries eat horse meat.”

“You don’t say.”

“Yeah.  This Friesian bloke I once knew ate horse meat in his country.  Poor gee-gees.”

Amused, Nick followed her to the lounge door.  “Have you eaten ‘roo meat?”

“A couple of times.  Not really to my taste.”  Pulling on her jacket, she wrinkled her nose.  “Meat’s very strong.”

“Low cholesterol.”

“Poor Skippy.”

“Do you eat steak?”

“Yes.”

“Poor moo-moo.”

“Let’s not get childish about this, Nick.”  Grinning, she darted into the kitchen.  “I’ll just check where Sheba is and put some more biccies out for them.  Just be a tick.”

Leaning
against the door frame, Nick gazed around the lounge.  The furniture looked new, yet it had an old world air about it.  Bree had obviously furnished the house to reflect the age of it, and done it nicely, everything comfortable and homey-looking.  Soft colours, crocheted doilies on the back of the sofa and chairs, a lace tablecloth on the small table where the laptop sat, a vase of flowers on the sideboard.  That was a bit dicey, considering Bast lurked around the house.  Pictures on the wall, little ornaments in a glass case and on the mantelpiece and- 

Nick’s eyebrows shot up. 
Hello
.  There was a big poster on the far wall with a photo of a spaceship emitting a beam of light, underneath it a grey alien face with black eyes.  Printed at the bottom were the words: ‘I
Do
Believe’. 

Amongst the
ornaments, well, there was a  little glass Buddha, a couple of porcelain Victorian ladies, a plaster horse and cart, a crystal church, a small, plastic, grey alien with big black eyes, a figurine of Chewbacca from Star Wars, a little spaceship on a stand, and pride of place, a complete boxed DVD set of The X-Files.

He glanced towards the TV.  Unable to clearly see the titles of the DVDs beneath, Nick crossed
over and knelt down before the shelf.  ‘Ghostbusters’, numerous episodes of ‘Battlestar Galactica’ and ‘Supernatural’, along with a smattering of horror DVDs.  There were also some DVDs in plain covers, and when he drew one out, the title was written on the front in marking pen.  ‘UFO Hunting Team: True UFO Sightings.’

Placing the DVD back in its slot, he straightened and scratched his head.  Huh.

Hearing a noise behind him, he turned to see Bree standing with her hands in her jacket pockets, one eyebrow raised.  “We still going out?”

“
Yeah, why?”

“Thought maybe the DVD collection might put you off.”

“I’m made of sterner stuff than that.”  Grinning, he crossed to her, slipping one arm around her shoulders to steer her down the hallway.  “I’m into weirdo UFO hunters myself.”

“Not UFOs?”

“Honey, let’s not go there.”

“Honey, let’s do.”

Picking up the scarf that was lying on the hall table, Nick wrapped it around her neck, keeping both ends in his hands to tug her gently forward while leaning down until they were nose to nose.  “Let’s not.”  He kissed her, soft and gentle, felt her sway in to him with a little moan.  But he didn’t let it last, lifting his head to smile down at her.  “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

“For dinner, I mean.”

“Mmmm.  I mean, yes.”  She blinked, cleared her throat.  “That’s exactly what I meant.”

“Sure you did.”  Giving the tip of her nose a light flick with his finger, Nick straightened and opened the door for her to precede him.  “Where’s the door key?”

“Here.”  She held it up as she passed.

He snagged it neatly, pushing her ahead of him when she stopped with a protest on her lips.

“I can lock the door, you know,” she said.

“I know.  Humour me.”  He locked the doors securely, handed the key back to her and hustled her over to the Landcruiser.  “Man, its cold out tonight.”

Setting her in the passenger seat, he hurried around the bonnet, his breath coming from him in white puffs.  Once he had the engine on, he flicked on the heater, both of them sighing in pleasure as the warmth hit them.

Several cars were parked outside the pub, and they hurried into the warmth.  There weren’t many people around, though Nick recognised Bill, the cook from the café, sitting at the bar.  Bill nodded to him, he nodded back, and unsaid greetings over, Nick placed a hand at Bree’s back and manoeuvred her over to the dining section.

“Maybe I should just put a steering wheel on my back,” she commented.

“Where’s the fun in that?  This way I get to manhandle you a little.”  He pulled the chair out for her, waited until she sat before taking the chair opposite.

Bree glanced around.  “Quiet night.”

There was only one other couple in the dining section and five patrons at the bar.

“Probably tucked up at home in front of the fire,” Nick suggested.

“Good place to be.”

His gaze shot from the bar to her.  “You didn’t want to come out?”

“What?  No.  I mean, yes, I did want to come.  I’m just saying that cold winter nights tucked up on the sofa with a good book or scary movie is a good place to be.”  Folding her arms, she leaned on the table and smiled at him.  “So is being out, wined and dined, and sharing top secrets.”

“Speaking of top secrets…”  Nick eyed her.  “How do you handle being out in the cold and rain on a UFO hunt when you prefer being tucked up on the sofa?”

“Hey, I never said I prefer it.  I said it’s a good place to be.  But I also like being out on a UFO hunt.”

“In the cold and wet.”

“There are such things as raincoats and gumboots.  Did you know that?”

“I know you’re full of sass.”

“Gonna do the count down again?”

He just knew his eyes had a wolfish gleam.  “Want me to?
”

She blushed.  “Change of subject.”  She paused.  “No, wait
, let’s talk about something.”

“That sounds intriguing.”  Boy, did it ever, especially in connection with what they’d just said.  “How about I get a couple of drinks and we settle down for a cosy chat?”

“Better make mine a strong one.  Orange juice straight up, no ice.”

“Tough sheila.”  Laughing, Nick went to the bar, returning with the orange juice for Bree and a Coke for himself.

“Rum and Coke?” she guessed.  “For a cosy chat?”

“No alcohol
, honey, I’m driving.  If I wasn’t, I’d have a light beer.”

“I can drive you home if you want a beer.”

The woman never ceased to surprise him.  “That’s really nice, but I’m fine with Coke.  I don’t need a skinful to have a good time.”

Her smile practically beamed.

Taking a mouthful of Coke, he eyed her over the rim.  “So, what did you want to talk about?”

The smile faded
, a hint of colour staining her cheeks.  Glancing down, she ran her fingers up and down the glass of orange juice.  “Uh…well….”

Interesting.  Nick watched
in curious anticipation.  With Bree, he never knew what she’d say next.

“Uh…yes…hmmm.”  She sipped at the orange juice, raised her eyes to the ceiling and frowned.

“That bad?” he queried.

“Just wondering how to put it.”

“Want my advice?”

Her gaze dropped to his.

“Just lay it on the line.”

“I usually do.”

“So what’s stopping you this time?”

Resting one elbow on the table, she lifted her hand to twirl a lock of dark brown hair around her forefinger.  “Nothing.”

Silently he watched her.

Her cheeks went a little darker.  “Are you into domestic discipline?”

He blinked.  “Am I what?”

“This countdown thing…”

Ah
.  Angling his head to one side, he studied her.

“I know some couples are into domestic discipline.  That’s fine, that’s their thing, but me…”  She shrugged, look
ed him gamely in the eyes.  “I don’t do that.”

Nick raised his eyebrows.  “You think I do?”

“That countdown thing yesterday… Nick, I can’t be in a relationship where I have to watch everything I say in case I anger you and you…you know.”

Shit
.  He’d buggered that one up.  Reaching over, he laid his hand atop hers where it rested on the tabletop.  “Honey, I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.  No, I’m not into domestic discipline.  You’re an independent woman, and sometimes I might overstep my mark in wanting to protect you.  We’ll disagree.  You’re free to disagree, as am I.  I’m not going to go all discipline on you, okay?”

“Okay.”  She looked relieved.  “Yesterday…?”

He eyed her.  How far to go?

“Come on, Nick, lay it on the line.  If we’re clearing any doubts between us, then it’s your turn.”  When he still remained silent, she narrowed her eyes at him.  “Truth.”

“Fine.”  Abruptly, he nodded.  “I haven’t been in many relationships, certainly not serious ones.  It’s a part of my nature to be protective of those I care about.”

She nodded encouragingly.

“I can tolerate a lot of things.”

Another nod.

“But I won’t tolerate you running yourself down.”