You're the One (8 page)

Ryder didn’t
even straighten up, just watched her with amusement.

Del held her
hand out to him. “Last warning. Give it to me.”

“Or what?”

She slid her
hand into his top pocket. No receipt. His back pocket. No receipt.
She dug in his side pocket and came up with the rumpled paper.

“I hope Dee
didn’t see you groping me,” Ryder said. “She’s kind of possessive
about her hot man.”

Ignoring him,
Del walked back around the counter, using the motion to check the
cost while her back was to him
. Ouch
. Opening the cash
register, she took out the money and handed it to him.

Ryder looked
at the money. “There’s no hurry for this, you know.”

“I know, but
I’ve got the money, so here.”

Pulling his
wallet from his shirt pocket, he put the notes inside. “When are
you getting that new roof you’ve been talking about?”

“When I’m good
and ready. When are you and Dee going to buy a house?”

Ryder
shrugged. “We talk about it, but we’re happy as is for now.”

“Most normal
people have an ‘our’ house. You have your house, Dee has her flat.
You both go to either one. How is that normal?”

“How normal is
it to sit on your roof?”

“Normal for
me.”

“Normal for
us.”

“There you
go.”

“For us, yes.
But you.” He pointed at her. “If I ever have to come out there in
the ambulance to pick up your sorry, broken hide off the ground
because you fell off the bloody roof, your hide won’t just be
broken, it’ll be sore.”

“It’ll be sore
anyway from landing on it.”

“It won’t be
just from you landing on it.”

Well used to
his threats, Del picked up her pen. “Unlike you, I have work to do.
Go bother Dee.”

Ryder gave a
grunt.

“And thanks
for putting the locks on.” She glanced up. “Seriously.”

“It’s no
problem, you know that.” He pushed back from the counter. “Did Dee
mention to you about going to the river next weekend for a
BBQ?”

“Not yet.”

“We’re seeing
if everyone can come. You in?”

“Definitely.”

“We’ll get
back to you.” Ryder gave her a wave and started for the door which
was propped open.

She looked
back down at the fashion catalogue.

“Del?”

“Yeah?”

Ryder’s
expression was serious. “You need help with the roof?”

She grinned.
“I won’t be putting it up myself.”

“We can put it
up for you.”

“Aw, that’s
sweet. But I’m not ready yet.”

“You know
we’re here, right?”

“Kind of hard
not to. You’re standing in my doorway.”

“Smart arse.”
Ryder sent her a second wave and disappeared.

As soon as she
was sure he was out of sight, she picked up the receipt again and
looked at it. Cripes, Ryder knew how to pick expensive locks.
Granted, he only chose high quality and in the end it would save
her in security and costs, but hells bells, the
price
.

With a groan,
she dropped her forehead onto the counter. Toasted sandwiches
looked to be part of her main menu for the next week. Okay, a
little exaggerated but still, parting with money not budgeted for
hurt her…pocket. She liked budgets, liked sticking to them, liked
knowing everything was cleared. Call her a stickler but it worked
for her. Unlike now.

“You all
right?” The gravely voice came right before the sound of big boots
thumping across the wooden floor.

Lifting her
head, Del looked up into the face of the muscular giant gazing down
at her in concern.

“This,” she
informed him, “is all your fault.”

“What is?” Moz
asked.

“Doesn’t
matter.” With a sigh, she slid the receipt aside. “What can I do
for you?”

“What’s my
fault?” he repeated.

Not about to
flap the receipt in his face, she replied, “Me getting in the shit
with the boys.”

He grunted,
rubbed his chin, looked down at her thoughtfully. “Got told off,
huh?”

“Four times.
Wait, no. You made five.”

“Did the
lesson sink in?”

The bloody
nerve of the bloke. Del glared at him. “Did you come in to buy
something or just annoy me?”

“Do I annoy
you?”

Bracing her
palms on the counter, she pursed her lips.

Moz’s gaze
dropped to her lips, dropped lower, flicked back up. Was it her
imagination or were his pupils a little more dilated?

Nah, had to be
her imagination. Just like her heart beat kicking up a notch at the
thought of him maybe being…nah. Just nah.

Moz turned
away abruptly. “I’m looking for some socks, actually.”

“Okay.” Glad
to be on familiar ground, Del hopped off the stool and rounded the
counter, heading for the far wall. “They’re over here by the shoes.
What colour?”

“Black.”

“Got black.
Size?”

“You probably
won’t have them in.”

“Let’s see.”
She walked down the cleared section to the sock rack, stopping to
start flicking through them. “I have ten, eleven, even twelve, and
possibly Yeti.”

Moz had
stopped right behind her. His silence had her smiling as she
glanced up at him over her shoulder.

He had one
raised eyebrow. “Yeti, huh?”

Her smile
widened.

“Has Simon
been telling tales?”

“Maybe.”

Moz just
raised the other eyebrow.

Amused, she
turned back to the sock display.

And then she
felt him, that shift in the air, a sudden growing warmth at her
back as he moved closer, one long arm coming over her shoulder as
he plucked a pair of socks from the display.

Holy heck, the
man was warm. And he smelled good. A whiff of clean male, soap and
faint aftershave. Yum.

Moz didn’t
move back and she could only stand there, feeling him, smelling
him, absorbing his warmth.

“You have my
size.” His deep voice was close.

Really
close.

Like right
behind her close.

A little
tingle danced up her spine. “I um…I bought some in.”

“You did?” The
surprise in his voice was tinged with pleasure.

Maybe she
shouldn’t have thought about pleasure.

Maybe she
should get some sense. Cripes, he was just standing behind her, for
crying out loud, and here she was acting like she had no
commonsense.
More like an idiot
.

She cleared
her throat. “It seemed like a good idea.”

That long arm
reached over her shoulder again, brushing her ear as he slowly took
another pair of socks off the rack. There was a definite brush of
something against her, the briefest of pressure that pressed
deliciously along her back and bottom, the brush of material
against her bare legs.

Oh boy, he was
really
close behind her.

She sucked in
a deep breath, which was probably a mistake because then she got a
good lungful of his male scent, making her senses whirl a little.
Oh, for crying out loud!

A steadying
hand settled on her back. “Del? Are you all right?”

That brought
her to her senses. It wasn’t like she could say ‘Well, no, you make
me giddy like a schoolgirl’.

“Sure,” she
managed to say cheerfully, turning to face him. “So, how many pairs
do you…” She found herself looking at a blue shirt stretched over a
broad chest. Oh boy. He was close all right. So close, in fact,
that barely seven inches separated them. “…want?” she managed to
finish.

When he didn’t
reply, she slowly dragged her gaze up that powerful chest, up that
strong neck, that set jaw, those firm lips, that straight nose,
higher to meet those brown eyes that were - oh geez. She blinked.
There was no question this time, his pupils had dilated, his gaze
intense as he gazed down at her. Her mouth went dry. There was an
undeniable flicker of heat in his eyes.

Moz’s lips
firmed as he just continued to look down at her, his nostrils
flaring slightly as he inhaled deeply.

Couldn’t the
man speak? Sure as hell she couldn’t, not with her mouth so dry. So
she swallowed, licked her lips, and man, that just made his pupils
dilate even more.

Talk about
feeling like prey before a huge predator.

Talk about an
alien wash of heat flooding her nether regions.

This so wasn’t
like her. She wasn’t some crazy sheila who wobbled at the knees
before a man who could likely break her in half if he bothered to
try. Certainly she didn’t act like this with a man who…like…well,
like Moz. She really had to get a grip.

Trying to
regain her equilibrium, she asked firmly, “Anything else you want?”
Unfortunately, it came out a whole lot huskier.

“Yeah,” Moz
said, “there is.” Unexpectedly catching her nape in a big hand, he
bent down and kissed her.

Chapter 3

His lips were
warm but firm. She registered that almost immediately. Warm and
firm, gentling as he kissed her a little more thoroughly, his lips
shaping hers, exploring almost delicately before settling fully to
deepen the kiss.

Instinctively
she reached out, her palm flattening against his chest, not to push
him away but to steady herself as she leaned into the kiss.

God, the man
could kiss. He didn’t force her, didn’t push her, but he led her
along a warm path that tantalised her, his kiss decisive yet still
retaining the care that shivered through her, playing along a taut
string that snapped tight at the same time it strummed low and deep
inside her.

Her eyelashes
fluttered open when she felt the coolness invade the warmth where
his lips had been. Looking up into his eyes, she saw the heat, that
awareness of her, the same awareness she had of him.

The kiss was
unexpected, came out of nowhere, but she couldn’t wish it away.
Almost dreamily, she blinked.

Apparently the
kiss was as unexpected for Moz as it for Del, for he blinked in
turn before the heat in his eyes fled to be replaced with clarity.
His hand left her nape as he straightened abruptly.

“Moz-”

“I’m sorry.”
He stepped back, not even seeming to notice her hand falling from
his chest to her side. “Del, I didn’t mean - I didn’t - I’m
sorry.”

“It’s um…”
Reality came crashing back in a very unwelcome swell. She could
feel the redness of embarrassment bloom in her cheeks. “It’s…”
It’s what?
Every glib comment she’d normally give, her
sometimes biting wit, vanished. She stood there staring up at him
like the giddiest of women.

“I should go.”
Turning, he strode back through the racks of clothes.

Before she
could do more than take one step forward - didn’t know why, it
wasn’t as though she knew what to do or say - Cheryl from the café
walked into the shop.

“Yoo hoo,
Del!” she called. Noticing Moz approaching, she smiled. “Hi. Have
you seen Del?”

“I think she’s
sorting through some - uh - clothes.”

The man had to
have good control of his features, because Cheryl didn’t seem to
notice anything unusual. Looking around, she spotted Del. “Honey, I
came to see if those aprons arrived.”

“Aprons?”

“The full bib
ones. Those little frilly half aprons are cute, but they’re not
good for the working in the kitchen.”

Del blinked,
drew in a deep breath. Okay, she could do this. This was her job.
No matter what had just happened, she didn’t have time to sit and
analyse. Plus if she didn’t act normal Cheryl would smell a
rat.

Briskly she
walked between the racks. At least her knees didn’t give out. “Oh,
right.”

She couldn’t
help but sneak a glance at Moz as he passed the window. The man was
control personified. Face calm, eyes forward, he strode out of
sight.

Cheryl glanced
out the door. “Everything all right?”

“Fine.”

Her gaze cut
back to Del. “Everything all right with Moz?”

“I presume so.
He didn’t say anything.”
Kissed me, but didn’t say much. Except
sorry.
Mentally berating herself, Del said, “The aprons did
arrive this morning, I put them in the store room. Sorry, Cheryl, I
was going to call you but got side tracked.”

“No
worries.”

The privacy of
the storeroom could have been a chance for Del to regroup, but no
way was she going to stop and think now. That’d be dangerous. No
losing the game face, keep going.

Steadfastly
refusing to think about
the kiss
, she took the folded aprons
from the shelf on which she’d put them that morning while unpacking
and returned to the front of the shop. Moving behind the counter,
she took out a bag and placed the aprons inside.

She winked.
“Two really pretty aprons for you, and two manly ones for
Eric.”

“You do spoil
us.” Cheryl flourished her bank card. “How much, honey?”

“Hmmm, let’s
see.” Pursing her lips, Del stared at the ceiling thoughtfully. “I
need a new roof, the veranda has to be fixed…hmmm.”

“I need a new
man; it wouldn’t take me that long to decide the cost.”

“You wouldn’t
trade in Eric.”

“Trade, no.
Sell? Don’t tempt me. Sometimes that man has me pulling out my
hair.”

“Male peri
menopause?”

“You got
it.”

Laughing,
Cheryl paid the bill and walked out.

Del didn’t
have much time after that, for several customers came in to collect
their orders, some tourists bobbed in to browse, and the mayor’s
wife came in to put in an order for several new outfits.

Penelope was
tall and extremely thin, and finding clothes that suited her tastes
wasn’t always easy.

“I’d be fine
if I didn’t mind wearing boob tubes and hipsters,” Penelope
grumbled, “but a woman of fifty shouldn’t be sporting that
look.”

“Oh, I don’t
know.” Del took out the pad containing Penelope’s measurements.
“You could set the new fashion trend.”