Fly with Me (19 page)

Throwing her
usual caution to the wind, she walked beside him, drinking in the
warmth, determined to just enjoy the uncomplicated time he was
giving her. Normally she’d be more reserved with a man she didn’t
know that well, but with Simon she felt safe, was safe, and not
just because her best friend vouched for him.

It was because
Simon
was
safe. Safe and uncomplicated, just what she needed
right now.

He led her
around the back of the old house where they stopped to regard
Arthur curled up in a thick rug on the old chair.

“I don’t
remember that rug being there before,” Elissa commented.

“I brought it
around last night after work.” Simon studied Arthur, who regarded
him back with one narrowed eye, his tattered ears pulling back
before flicking forward. “At least he laid down on it instead of
crapping on it. I’ll count that as a bonus.”

Moving
forward, Simon waited as Elissa went up the sagging steps onto the
equally sagging veranda, following behind to move into the room at
the side.

She peeked in
to see that it was an old wash-house, complete with rusting washing
machine, an old trough, several peeling benches and a dilapidated,
folded ironing board against the wall. “Wow.”

“Yeah. Mrs
Tanner lived simply.” Simon rinsed out several bowls that had been
soaking in the trough.

“Simple? This
is the pits.”

“Pits to you.”
He slanted her a sideways glance. “To her it was home.”

“Yeah, but
still…”

“This was
supposed to be her new marital home but she lived here alone after
her fiancée died in the war. She refused to change a thing he’d
done except to replace anything that broke down beyond repair.”
Picking up a tea towel that had been draped over the edge of the
sink, he dried the bowls. “It was her home. Her dream home.”

“Oh.” A little
disconcerted, Elissa looked around at it again. “I’m sorry to hear
that.”

“Don’t be, she
wasn’t. She was home.”

Hearing
something in his voice, Elissa looked at him. He had his glasses
on, studying the label on the can of cat food he held. Man, he kind
of looked sexy like that. Not to mention unexpected. Big bad boy
bikie wearing reading glasses and looking sexy while doing it. Make
that big bad boy bikie with a studious, serious air as he pursed
his lips to the side. Like a big bad boy bikie librarian.

Striving to
sound normal before he caught her practically drooling, she
gestured towards the tin. “Something wrong?”

“Not sure.” He
frowned. “Arthur doesn’t like this food.”

Her eyebrows
rose. “Pardon?”

“Arthur. I
gave it to him yesterday morning and he left most of it.”

“Well, maybe
he doesn’t like what’s in it.”

Simon waggled
the tin. “That’s what I’m thinking.”

“What are you
going to do?”

“Give this to
Ryder for Jezebel.”

“Jezebel?
Who’s Jezebel?”

“His cat.”

“Oh. Okay.
What are you going to give Arthur instead?”

Retrieving a
bag she hadn’t noticed from the other side of the washing machine,
Simon set it on the lid and opened it up. “I have an assortment
here that Ash told me to try. What would His Crankiness like, do
you think?”

Moving up
beside him, Elissa peered into the bag. Whoa, talk about an
assortment. There were big cans, little cans, different brands,
different flavours, some with meat and some with fish. Definitely
from Tilly’s stock.

“Maybe I
should try the fish.” Simon plucked out a dainty tin that
proclaimed ‘pure fish for the finicky cat’.

“Because he’s
finicky?”

“No, because
he’s being an old fart about everything.” Simon’s face softened as
he looked over Elissa’s head towards the doorway. “Poor old bugger.
Guess he’s got a right to be a cranky old fart, he’s missing his
Mum.”

Cripes, the
way he said that just about melted her right there in her sneakers.
Unconsciously she leaned towards him, not even realising she was
doing it until she felt the sleeve of his jacket brush her cheek,
then she jerked back, feeling an idiot.

Catching her
sudden movement, Simon looked down at her, his hand coming to rest
in the small of her back, the warmth of his palm penetrating
deliciously right through her jumper. “All right, Lis?”

“Of course.”
She used the excuse of picking up one of the clean bowls to shift
away from him, unable to think why his nearness was disturbing her
so much. “Shall we try Arthur on the fish?”

“Absolutely.”
Simon peeled back the lid and tipped the fish into the bowl.

It looked good
to Elissa. All fish and some kind of clear juice. “Okay?”

“Okay. You
take it to him.”

“What?”

“Basically,
Arthur thinks I’m shit.” Simon flashed her a wide grin. “Let’s see
if he’ll accept food from the fair hand of the pretty maiden.”

Cripes, that
had her flustered. She’d had compliments before, mostly false, said
in a more seductive way than the open way Simon spoke, but never
had those compliments flustered her.

“Come on,
sweetheart.” Placing his hands on her shoulders, he turned her and
walked her out the door.

Or rather, he
walked and she either had to walk or have him pressed up against
her. Not that she’d have minded - Jesus, the motorbike ride must
have rattled her brains - but she feared she might just throw the
food bowl on the floor, turn, grab him by his jacket lapel and kiss
the living crap out of him.

Holy heck,
where had that thought come from? Crap on a stick, she was losing
it.

Trying to
force her thoughts from the man at her back, Elissa focussed on
Arthur. The big, black cat was eyeballing her cautiously from his
perch on the chair. Obviously he was reluctant to shift from the
chair, but he was as equally reluctant to let her too close.

Leaning over
her, Simon placed his mouth at her ear. “Just talk quietly to him,
see if you can coax him to come.”

Never mind
Arthur, if Simon kept breathing in her ear
she
was in danger
of coming.

Taking a deep
breath and dragging her mind from the gutter, Elissa moved forward
another step. “Come on Arthur, there’s a good kitty. Look, yummy
food.”

Arthur
obviously thought she could stick the yummy food where the sun
didn’t shine. He stood up, ears going back.

“Come on,
baby,” she cooed, kneeling down and placing the bowl on the
veranda. “Come and have some yummy food the big firie bought for
you.”

“Maybe you
shouldn’t mention me.” Humour danced in Simon’s voice. “I’m on his
shit list, remember?”

“You have to
get him to like you, remember?”

“I’m trying,
remember?”

“You’re
trying, all right.” Trying her libido. Was she ovulating or
something?

His laugh was
low, sliding across her skin warmly.

Focus focus
focus
. “Come on, Arthur. You’re hungry, I know you are. Look,”
she wheedled, tipping the bowl towards him so he could see.
“Fish.”

Arthur jumped
down off the chair but rather than approach them, he walked to the
end of the veranda where he sat and eyed them.

Simon sighed.
“We need to go, otherwise he’s going to walk off and I don’t know
when he’ll come back. I don’t want other cats to get his food.”

Reluctantly
straightening, she looked up at Simon. He was watching Arthur, his
gaze a little sad.

“He’ll be all
right,” she said softly, touching his arm.

“Will he?”
Simon continued to watch the old tom. “Cats have been known to
wander off when their owners die or leave them.”

“But he’s at
his old home, right? And you’re feeding him.” She rubbed his arm
comfortingly. “He’s got no reason to leave.”

Simon’s arm
slid around her waist, drawing her against his side. “I’d like to
get him to my home, settle him in so he’s comfortable for the rest
of his life.”

Seeking to
reassure him, Elissa leaned against him lightly as they both
watched Arthur. “He’ll come around eventually.”

“Yeah,” Simon
finally said. “Yeah, he will. He’s got no choice.”

Relieved to
hear the sudden determination creep back in his voice, she
nodded.

It was
companionable standing together, his warmth seeping into her, his
strength supporting her however lightly. The morning sun filtered
down, chasing the chill away. But however lovely it was, Arthur
made a move to walk away, causing Simon to tighten his hold on
Elissa.

“Come on, Lis,
let’s leave the old boy to have a peaceful meal. I’ll come back
later.”

Rather than
release her, Simon walked down the steps with her, the sagging wood
groaning beneath their combined weight. He kept her tucked into his
side as they left the backyard.

Before they
turned the corner of the house, Elissa glanced back to see Arthur
sniffing at the food bowl. The old cat lifted his head to look at
them before he settled down and started eating.

“It’s all
right.” She switched her gaze to Simon’s face a full head above
her. “He’s eating.”

“Good.” He
gave her a light squeeze.

He only
released her at the motorbike, reaching out to pick up her helmet
and slide it over her head, fastening the strap beneath her
chin.

“Maybe you
need to teach me how to fasten it,” she commented.

“Maybe.” He
winked suddenly, the flash of humour back in his eyes. “But I like
doing it. Have you at my mercy.”

The heat those
innocent words sent through her was surprising, a sudden flush at
the thought of being at his mercy. As in
being at his
mercy
.

She could only
stand there, all that heat sluicing through her as she watched him
slide his helmet on and fasten it, his gaze studying their
surroundings, one arm lifting in a wave as a car passed and
hooted.

That had her
sucking in a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. What
was
wrong
with her?

Simon moved
leisurely, swinging his leg over the bike, kicking off the stand
and starting it with skilful ease before looking at her. “Hope on,
bikie chick.”

Regardless of
her perplexity at her emotions, she couldn’t help but respond to
his light tone. “Am I going to have to get a tattoo one day?” She
swung up behind him.

“Depends where
it goes.”

“Huh?” In the
act of settling behind him, she frowned at his back.

“And depends
if I can see it or not.”

Oh boy.

“And if it’s
not in a place easily seen, can I still check it out?”

Oh cripes.

“And if
it’s-”

“Go no
further.”

His warm, deep
chuckle practically vibrated through her, she was sitting that
close.

Smiling a
little, she slid her arms around his waist. Okay, maybe she really
didn’t have to do that until he opened the throttle, but she
refused to consider that in-depth.

“Lis?”

“Mmm?”
Realising he wouldn’t hear her, she added, “Yeah?”

“Join me for
breakfast at the café?”

Right then, it
sounded like a great idea. “Sure, I - wait, Ash and Scott will be
expecting me.” Disappointment sluiced through her. “What if Ash has
cooked breakfast already? It’d be terrible to tell her now.”

“Tell you
what, how about I phone them now. If they’ve cooked your breakfast
we can have a rain check on the café.” He pulled his helmet off
before she could reply, resting it on the fuel tank as he slid his
hand inside his jacket and pulled out something.

She guessed it
was his mobile because she couldn’t see past his broad shoulders.
In fact, the only view she had was his leather-clad back and upper
arms. Unless she leaned over to peer around his arm, and she was
afraid that her weight would throw the bike off balance, so she
simply waited.

Sure enough, a
mobile phone was placed up to Simon’s ear. Within seconds he said
cheerfully, “Hey, Scott. Simon. Listen, I’ve got Elissa with me,
thought we’d have breakfast at the café unless you’ve already
cooked breakfast? Ash has only just got out of bed?” His laugh was
sudden. “You’re dragging her back to bed? Roger that. See you
later.” He flipped the phone shut and threw Elissa a glance over
his shoulder. “Café it is, sweetheart.”

Probably a
good plan. By the sound of it Scott was making good use of her
absence from the house to have a little slap and tickle with Ash.
“Um…I have no money on me.”

“My
shout.”

“I’ll pay you
back later, I promise.”

“No need.” He
slid his helmet on.

Her lips
tightened just a little. “I pay my way.”

He paused for
several seconds before nodding. “I understand. You can buy me
breakfast sometime, but only if you want to.”

Surprised, she
blinked.

“Now hold on,
we’re off.”

Automatically
she tightened her arms around his waist, pressing close.

~*~

Sitting in the
café at a booth near the window, Simon studied the woman opposite
him. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkled, and her normally
neat hair was bundled into a messy bunch at the back of her head,
the clip just managing to hold it in place. Several long strands
spilled free to dance around her cheeks and shoulders.

Man, she
looked cute, dishevelled, kind of like the way he wanted to see her
every morning. Right after he rolled off her.

Completely
truthful with himself, he acknowledged the fact that he was majorly
attracted to Elissa. He’d been attracted to her from the first
moment he’d seen her up on stage, from the time he’d sat beside her
on the balcony, from her first, sweet, light ‘thank-you’ kiss, and
definitely from the moment he’d caught her lips in a deeper kiss
that even now had the power to make his blood thicken.

What had it
thicken even more was the memory of her soft body pressed to his
back, those generous breasts hard against him, those rounded thighs
tucked behind his, the knowledge that her womanly secrets had been
partially pressed against him.