The Goodbye Girl (20 page)

M
outh slightly agape as she listened in awe, she shook her head.

“Because you’re Bree Ford,
my
Goodbye Girl. I want you.  I don’t care if you’re skinny or fat, short or tall.  I don’t care about the colour of your skin - you could be pink with purple polka dots and I’d still want to bury myself inside you, so far inside that you wouldn’t know where I started and you stopped.  You hearing me?”

Was the sky blue?  Did birds fly?
Did fish swim?

B
ree nodded dumbly.

“I respect you enough that I’m willing to wait for you to realise that I’m the
right man for you.  Still listening?”  At her silent, wide-eyed nod, he continued, “Good.  Right now I am so tempted to drag you inside, strip you down and lick you all over like an ice cream.”

Holy crap,
her knees were weak.  She had to lock them just to keep herself from sliding down the wall in a limp, hot heap of quivering sexual desire.

His eyes were now burning with carnal lust. 
“I want to shove you onto the bed, drape those luscious thighs across my shoulders and just
drive
into you.  Drive hard and fast and so deep.  But I’m not going to.  Know why?”

She couldn’t even
manage to get one word out.

Nick lowered his head so that their faces were just mere
centimetres apart.  “Because I respect your decision.”

Then he kissed her, hard and fast, tongue driving deep, just devouring her, taking her essence and engulfing her in
fiery heat, licking deep, ruthless in his rapacity.

When he lifted his head, she was gasping for air, eyes wide, hands fisted in his shirt.  Wanting more.

He evaded her, pushing upright.  Every breath he took was hard, deep and harsh.  Jaw clenched tight, lust burning in his eyes.

“I’m
going now,” he said from between clenched teeth.  “Before I forget what you want and decide to change your mind and make you do what
I
want. I respect you that much.”  Swinging on his heel, he strode across the veranda, one big step to the ground and across to the Landcruiser in long strides.  Unlocking the door, he looked across the roof at her.  “This changes nothing.  I’m picking you up tomorrow night at 1800hrs for dinner at the pub.  You got a problem with the timing, day or place, ring me, but not right now.”  Getting in, he started the engine and drove off, sending her one searing look as he did so.

Holy cow.  Freakin’ heck.  Hells bells
!
  Bree’s knees gave out and she slid down the wall to sit on the veranda.  The throbbing between her thighs was a true indication of just how Nick’s actions and words had affected her, not to mention that her nipples were poking at her bra.

Sheba let out a
nerve-shattering screech and came up onto the veranda, sitting and staring at her, opening her mouth to screech once more.

“Respect,” Bree informed her with a dry mouth, “is really over-rated.”

~*~

Cutting wood was a g
reat stress reliever.  Straightening, Nick wiped his brow.  A pile of cut wood was neatly stacked against the shed and there was still more to cut.  Good.  It felt good to have an axe handle in his palms, a soothingness in the steady rhythm of swing, hit, split and repeat.

Alex approached holding a mug of coffee.  “Need a break?”

“Thoughtful of you.”

“Nah.  Thoughtful of Harly.  She saw you swinging away out here and felt sorry for you.  I told
her it was character-building and you don’t need coddling, but you know my wife, always feeling sorry for the strays.”

“Thanks, man.”  Nick grinned.

Alex handed him the mug.  “So, you’re going out tonight, huh?”

“Yep.”

“With The Goodbye Girl.”

“Yep.”  The coffee was strong
, hot, and he took an appreciative mouthful.

“Pub dinner.”

“You wangling for an invite?”

“Nope.  Any idea how long you’ll be out?”

Nick eyed him over the rim of the mug.  “When am I allowed back?”

“I’m just pointing out that we’ll probably be in bed.”

“Early night?”

Alex leered.  “If I have my way.”

“I get it.  What’s my curfew?”

“I’m thinking you’re not going to be back until late anyway, so here.”  Alex handed him a key.

Surprised, Nick took it.  “What’s this?”

“It’s a key.  It opens doors.  See, you just stick this bit in the silver thingy on the door and-”

“Arsehole.”

Alex laughed.  “It’s a spare house key.  Harly and I might go out or stay in, so just in case we thought you better have a key to let yourself in.  This way you won’t have t
o wait for the grown-ups to come home.”

Nick slid it into his pocket.  “Thanks, ma
te.”

“No worries.”  Alex looked at the wood.  “I’m impressed.  You made quite a dent in that pile.”

The pile had greatly diminished, he couldn’t deny it.  “Feels good, you know?  Just to work around home.  Your home.”

“Yeah, I hear you.”  Hands in his pockets, Alex rocked back and forth in his
sneakers.  “I promised Harly I’d paint the shed soon.”

“
What colour?”

“Pink.”

Nick paused.  “That’s her choice, right?”

“No.  Mine.  I thought a pretty pastel pink with blue trim.”

“It’ll look great.”

“
Harly wanted dark blue, but I said, ‘Honey, you need something pretty.’”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what you said.  I can just see it.”  Nick hefted another slab of wood onto the chopping block.  “I think some hanging baskets with petunias in it would look lovely.”

“Petunias?  You think?  Not violets?”

“
Definitely petunias.  All those pretty colours.”

“You might be onto something there.”

Nick cast him a wry look.  “Country air is doing things to you, man.”

“Good things.”  Alex’s grin widened.  “Not good enough to make me paint the shed pastels, and sure as hell no hanging baskets
on it.”

“So you’re going with dark blue, huh?”

“That’s the plan.  Harly tells me what to do, and I do it.”

“The little Captain.”

“Yeah, but don’t let her hear you calling her that.”  Alex picked up the empty mug.  “I’m heading back.  You okay out here?”

“Yep.”  Nick
positioned the block of wood.

“You know, your staying here doesn’t depend on you doing chores.”

“I know.  I just like to help out.”

“I understand.  Okay.”  Alex started to walk away.

Nick looked up.  “Alex.”

“Yeah?”

“If you and Harly ever want to have a quiet evening or something, you know, just tell me and I’ll make myself scarce.”

Alex smiled.  “No worries.”

“I mean it.  I’m not here to interfere in the time you two have together.”

Turning back, Alex looked him in the eyes.  “You’re our
friend, Nick, and a damned good one. You’ve always ensured Harly and I have time together alone, don’t think we haven’t noticed.  If I need time with Harley, I’ll let you know.  But we’re not kicking you out, and you’re definitely not in the way.  Okay?”

A little tension eased from Nick.  “Okay.”

“Okay.”  Alex strode away.  “Keep swinging, princess, if you want to toast your toes by the fire tonight.”

Nick grinned.  “I’ve got a date, remember?”

“Oh yeah.”  Alex winked over his shoulder.  “You’ll be making your own fire.”

Nick wasn’t so sure about that. 
Well, he was sure he’d get toasted, he couldn’t help but stand next to Bree and start to feel the smoulder of rut.  Yep, rut, because that’s what he felt like whenever she got all up-in-his face.  He wanted to throw her down and have his wicked way with her, tame her only enough so that she knew who was boss, and then have all out hot sex.

If she didn’t
first knee him in the nuts for daring to try and show her who was boss.

Laughing to himself, Nick swung the axe, the crack of it slicing completely through the block of wood satisfying.

No one could tame Bree Ford.  The woman was definitely an independent soul and he liked that, liked it a lot.  It didn’t take a genius to see that she’d developed that independent streak because she’d had to, with a mother who was more interested in chasing UFOs, smoking marijuana, and letting her child roam around at night in the desert or mountains while she shagged another man in the camper van.  No way should a child have to be brought up like that, but Bree had, and she’d survived to be a far better woman than her mother.

The
amusement faded as Nick struck another block of wood, splitting it neatly in half.  Bree had virtually almost been alone most of her young life, and he understood that that was where she’d developed her backbone.  No wonder she’d wanted to ream him a new one when he’d dared to stick up for her against Ted, but hell, he wasn’t the kind of man to let any woman face an annoyed man alone.  Not while he was around, and definitely not Bree.  Ted had started hinting at her being crazy and if Nick had of been a dog, he’d have had the ridge up on his back from neck to tail.  Pulling Bree behind him while he faced Ted was instinct, one of protection, and whether she liked it or not, Nick protected his own.

She just
had to realise that she was his.  Nick split another block, split it again, and tossed the quarters on the growing pile.

Yep, The Goodbye Girl had been his in writing for the last nine months, but he wasn’t letting her go.  She was
his
Goodbye Girl.  She’d be his in body, mind and soul.

The body part was
tantalising. 
Heh heh
.  He stared into the distance, a small smile on his lips.  Man, he’d seen the heat of desire in her eyes and those beguiling nipples pressing against her shirt yesterday when he’d told her exactly what he wanted to do to her.  He’d gone home with a raging stiffy that only went down in a frigid shower.  It didn’t go down easily, either, it was a bit of a fight.  To be honest, he’d had to wrestle it into submission by, well, jerking off.  Hadn’t had to do that in awhile.

He couldn’t wait for the day he found his release deep inside that mouth-wateringly curvy body.  Handful
s of lush hips, plump thighs soft against his hard ones, generous breasts to feast on…yep, he couldn’t wait.

He also had the beginnings of another stiffy.

With a sigh, Nick resumed swinging the axe.

He just had to wait until Bree was ready.  No way would he coerce her.  Well, he wouldn’t dissuade her, either
.  Okay, he’d not be above encouraging her, but he wouldn’t force it or try to talk her into it before she was ready.  She had to choose the time.

He just hoped she’d do it before he wore his palms out.

By the time he’d finished splitting and stacking all the wood, it was lunchtime.  Harly had a stew simmering on the stove and home baked bread, and he could nothing but have a little R & R in the lounge, flopped on the sofa watching the footy with old Buffy at his feet and old Pepper curled up on his lap.  Harly placed a mug of steaming chocolate on the little table by his the side of the sofa, ruffled his hair and crossed to Alex, who was flopped in an armchair with Chuckie along the back of it, the one-eyed cat’s tail flicking across his neck now and again.  Alex got a mug of chocolate and a kiss on the forehead, and then Harly disappeared into the sewing room with Sunny and left them to it.

It
was a nice, cosy way to spend a chilly afternoon.  It would have been nicer if Bree was snuggled up to him, but he’d take what he could get and this was as close to home as he’d been since his parents passed away.

He wanted this kind of home, this warmth, a place to hang his hat and know was his.  Going back to Army life…it was still under consideration.  Working with Paul had reawakened his love of building things, something he’d forgotten since he rarely had
the time or place to do it.  But now…could he give up military life for civilian life?

He still had time to think about it.

Pushing it from his mind, he focussed on the football game and settled down for a lazy afternoon.

~*~

Right on 1800hrs, Nick pulled the Landcruiser to a halt in front of Bree’s home and braked.  Hopping out, he strode across the ground, noting the veranda light that shed a warm glow.  Kind of like a welcome.

Talk about being
fanciful.  Next thing he’d be doing embroidery and making daisy chains.

Grinning, he knocked on the door.

“It’s open!” a voice shouted from inside.

Open?  Yeah, it was.  Closing the doors behind him, Nick frowned.  “Why isn’t it locked?”

Bree looked out from a side room.  “Because I knew you were coming.”