His Halloween Kisses (3 page)

Ali tried to concentrate on the magazine in her lap and to not to be aware of every movement Byron made. He wouldn't sit still. One minute, he stood in the kitchen finding something else to eat, the next he flipped through channels on the TV. He avoided her, which was a good thing. Watching him made her stomach form a tight ball. His mannerisms were smooth yet at the same time, slightly humorous. He was inching into her heart, squeezing through the tightly-sealed wall she'd erected around it years ago. And ouch, it hurt.

The doorbell rang, and Byron for the first time since she'd arrived in his home, gave her eye contact.

“Who's that? It can't be Simon as he hates anything that chimes.” His eyes went large.

She suppressed a laugh at his face and his very true comment about her brother. “It's your home.”

He pointed at the door. “I don't often get visitors. Excuse me.”

She smiled and nodded, and her heart did a little twist. He charmed her with his innocent, good-boy smile on a mature face above broad, manly shoulders. He moved with a playful ease, as though life were an adventure waiting to be enjoyed.

For a moment, she imagined running her hands through the curls sprung around his head and nuzzling her cheek against his slightly rough one. How could she forget the teasing tickle of his stubble as he brushed against her in the dark? She dropped her gaze as he rushed to the door, hoping he didn't see her feelings in her expression.

A cacophony of voices echoed from the front door, and Ali stood frozen, unsure whether to stand up and be polite or sit and wait. She hardly knew Byron. What if these people were his friends and she felt awkward? Not like she didn't enjoy meeting new people, but well, what would they think of her in his home? Would they think they were a couple?

“Mom, I didn't expect you at this hour. Why didn't you tell me you were coming?”

His
mom
?

Her face felt suddenly hot, and she touched her cheek. She stood up in a moment.

“We wanted to surprise you. Trick or treat?” A happy woman's voice echoed through the hallway like a deep bell.

“I'm surprised.” His voice softened, and she heard a kiss.

“Mom and Wendy, this is Ali.” He pointed at her once they entered the room. She tried to put on a smile of confidence and ease. “Ali, this is my mom and sister Wendy.”

“I can see…I can see she's your sister. Pleased to meet you.” She walked up to them, unsure whether to hug them or shake their hands. Were they casual or formal?

The pretty young woman with curls just like Byron's smiled back at her but didn't hug or reach to shake her hand. His mother gave her a soft squeeze on the upper arm.

“Hi Ali,” Wendy said. “Ew, Byron, what's with the jack-o'-lantern in the house? It stinks of pumpkin.”

“It kind of is…pumpkin.” His face lit up with amusement, and Ali tried not to show the effect his expression had on her. Somehow, his genuine, carefree smile seemed to wriggle itself right under her skin and was starting to burrow a home inside her heart.

“Are we messing up a date?” his mom asked, a frown furrowing her brow. She was an older and darker version of Wendy.

This time they were sure to pick up her embarrassment as she looked away, and her lip quivered. Visions of their steamy kisses in the dark sent washes of heat all over her body. Not appropriate thoughts in front of his relatives.

“Ali is my neighbour's sister. I rescued her from a haunted house tonight.”

His mom sat down and looked up at him expectantly, so Wendy and she followed suit. “Sounds interesting.” She rubbed her hands together. “I love a juicy scary story.”

“I don't think it was very funny for Ali.” He sat down next to her and patted her leg. Heat and longing sizzled through her in one explosive second, knocking her totally off her equilibrium. She stiffened, afraid the women would pick up her reaction to him. No man had ever done things like this to her. Yet, he'd only kissed her. Three times. That's all.

Why had he sat next to her? She supposed there weren't any other available seats.

“She had quite a night, and I thought I'd better look after her and calm her down a bit.”

Ali pulled away and stood up. “Maybe I should head on home.”

“Home?” His voice held a stern note.

“My real home. Where I normally live.”

“Stay longer,” his mom said with a sweet smile. “I'm sure you're tired, and so are we. We can all settle down here for the night. Hope you don't mind, son.”

“Sure, I expected that. Didn't think you'd drive up to Pretoria at this late hour.”

“First time to stay with you in years,” said Wendy. “Your place is similar to mine.” She smiled and glanced at Ali, open friendliness evident on her face.

“You still have that old sleeper couch and sleeping bags, Byron?” Mom asked.

“I can get them for you.”

“Knew you would be the perfect gentleman. He always is.” The mother winked at her, and she couldn't help gaping. Was she trying to get her to like him? Buttering up her son in her eyes?

“Nah, Mom, he's an absolute louse. He didn't stay in Pretoria and help me with my studies like he promised.”

“You've been independent for the last five years, and I'm not about to change that.” Byron pulled a mock angry face at her. “I'm not big brothering you anymore.”

Ali sat down, glad the focus moved off her, but couldn't help wondering if she'd inherited Byron's big brothering care. Was that how he saw her now in the light? Merely as a little sister to take care of?

“Hurry up, Byron. I'm tired, and I need a good cup of cocoa before I go to sleep,” Wendy shouted to him as he left the room.

She stared at the sister, surprised with the way she treated Byron, but their family dynamics were none of her business.

Byron's mother and sister began to talk about family things, and she didn't want to eavesdrop on their personal conversation. She went down the passage to go the toilet but on the way heard Byron grunting from one of the bedrooms.

Shame, he had helped her so much. He deserved a hand too.

Slipping into his room without thinking, she found him buried in a cupboard, scrounging through linen. His tight backside pressed against his denim jeans, giving the true definition of his shape, and she couldn't move, couldn't say or do a thing. He provided a feast to stare at, something so delightful that she was totally unable to function normally. How she longed to touch him, to enjoy not only the sight but the feel of his hard, unyielding male flesh.

He grunted and swore under his breath, knocking her out of her fantasy world.

“Need help?”

He spun round and snarled at her. “Dumb sleeping bags. They're right behind all the towels.” His curls flopped onto his forehead. He was a delightful combination of boyishness and confident manhood.

She walked up to him and peered into a cupboard cluttered with a mangle of linen. “If you folded things up, you'd probably be able to find things easier.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Fine, you find them.”

“What colour are they? Are they even rolled up and in their bags?”

“I don't know.” He shrugged, suddenly looking sheepish and very adorable. His body up close sent charges through her, and she just stared, aware that her mouth gaped open. How she wished she could have a fourth kiss, but now wasn't a good time, not with his family here.

His face moved closer to hers, his nutty krust biscuit breath upon her, his warmth sinking into her. Crackles of attraction like static electricity sparked between them. How come they seemed to be drawn to kiss more when it really wasn't the right time to do it—like in the dark or when his mom and sister were just down the passage? They'd spent hours together earlier and barely looked at one another.

He gripped her face roughly between his hands and engulfed her mouth with a ferocious kiss. She pressed into him with such pressure and fervour that she was sure she'd hurt him, but he didn't pull back. Instead, he plunged his tongue into her mouth deeply and desperately. Joy surged through her. This man wanted her even in the light. He didn't see her as a little sister to take care of.

The friction of his hand rubbing the back of her head and then down her back, sent ripples of delight through her which pooled in her abdomen. She loved his roughness, the loss of control he gave her. She'd been so controlled, so tense actually for the last few months, and for the first time, she was flying, soaring above everything. She could stay in his arms forever until she was totally robbed of breath.

“Do you want cocoa?” His mom's voice came from the doorway of the room, piercing through the haze of pleasure he'd engulfed her in.

“Huh?” Byron turned to look at his mother, his lips plump and red from kissing, lust dripping from his eyes.

Back to reality and ready to crawl into the cupboard beneath all the linen, Ali merely looked on, unable to speak.

The older lady smiled. “Two cocoas then?” She looked ready to turn away, seemingly gloating at this new development in her son's life.

“Thanks.” Byron mumbled into the air, gritting his teeth as his mom left. He dropped his head in his hand. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. I'm starting to enjoy this.”

“I know. Look, I'm not ready for a relationship. Not at this time of my life. I'm too busy. Not even sure if I'll be staying here in Newcastle with the way this job is going.” He reached for the towels and began to fling them onto the floor. “I don't want you to think…”

“Think what?” Her face felt like rubber. Deep disappointment sank into her. She'd been wishing to have a relationship with him? Since when? Why hadn't her consciousness told her that already?

“I'm sure you think I'm a player. I'm not. I've had only serious relationships,” he said while emptying the cupboard onto the floor.

“Sounds like fun. Not.”

“I don't mean it that way. I just mean, when I'm interested in someone, I don't like to play with their feelings. I want to take them seriously. That's why I feel like this whole night has been pure disaster.”

She buried her head in the cupboard to find sleeping bags, however they looked. The smell of moth balls and musty, old linen filled her nostrils but was unable to take away the huge embarrassment of having kissed a guy who really didn't want anything to do with her.

She took her head out again.

“I'm also not ready for a relationship at the moment. My job is a mess. Yes, I enjoy it, but I don't know if I'll get past my three months' probation period yet. I've made a few bad mistakes.”

Oh, why did she say that? He didn't care a stitch for her, so why was she tumbling out her anxieties upon him?

“Like what?”

She waved her hand as though it was nothing. “Argh, maybe I'm overreacting, but I've sent a few wrong documents out to the Department of Education, things they weren't supposed to see. Changes were being made, but I sent the old documents before they changed things. It's complicated. I had a hearing, and they gave me a warning that if I didn't follow their instructions carefully, I would lose my job. I've been very careful since, but you never know if you're going to make some silly mistake which is not petty in their eyes. A mistake in ignorance, if you know what I mean.”

“Hey, that's rough. I'm sure it will be all right though.”

All the tension of the last few weeks came tumbling back upon her. She'd told her roommates her story, and they'd listened and advised her. She had no need to get sympathy from Byron, especially seeing he didn't want a “relationship” with her.

His gaze held kindness though. “It's always scary with a new job. I'm feeling the same way. As a manager, I have to deliver, and if I don't, I'm out of there. I didn't realise being a secretary could be so hectic.”

“Well, even secretaries can have stress.”

He touched her arm. “I didn't mean it like that. What I meant is I didn't think they could fire you for an honest mistake like sending the wrong document in ignorance. My secretary in Pretoria was run off her feet. They're the heart and soul of many companies, and we wouldn't survive without them”

She gave a shaky smile at the concern in his eyes. “I wish my bosses saw me that way. They make me feel like I'm this small.” She pressed her fingers together. “Every little thing is an issue. I can't even go to the toilet when I want, and if I'm five seconds late, I get a mouthful. I can't send a friend a message on my phone. If I even answer a call from the bank, I get the evil eye. Nothing personal is allowed, yet I often have to work overtime and give up my personal time for them, but get nothing from it.” She sighed. “I'm sorry. I'm such a grump.” She went back to feeling behind the towels for anything of a different texture to their roughness. He obviously didn't use fabric softener in his laundry loads.

“Sounds like they're micro managers. Instead of trusting their staff and giving them incentives and making their work time enjoyable, they're stifling them. Not the right way to go about things.”

“You're right.” Her hand touched something slippery and smooth in the cupboard. She pulled on it and out came a purple and white sleeping bag. “Aha!”

“You're a star.”

She made a fancy pose and smiled at him. “Think you need to find someone to do your laundry for you.”

He shrugged. “I should, I suppose. One day. When I'm sure I'm staying here.”

She found the next bag and pulled it out. “Don't give up so quickly. You sound like you're a good manager. I'm sure things will settle.”

“I hope so.”

She hoped so too all of a sudden. If he could settle here, maybe she could get to know him better. Better than just kissing and fondling. But that was fun. For now, she would be happy with that alone, but it seemed that he wanted something long-term, and she wasn't the woman for that. Not yet. The thought brought a sick feeling to her stomach.