Suddenly Sexy (11 page)

Sam felt like he'd done ten rounds with Ali. He was dazed and his gut ached. Women! He'd dated his fair share but he still didn't have a clue how they ticked. Especially Maddie Clarke. Never in his life had he met a woman who confused him and turned him on at the same time.

He drove back to his mother's house on autopilot. He couldn't remember if he stopped at the traffic lights—he couldn't even remember if there'd been any. All he knew was that Maddie was a woman he wanted to see more of, but she wasn't interested.

Usually he was the one doing the brush-off, not the other way round. Now he knew why his ex-girlfriends used to throw things at him. He wondered if it was too late to ring any of them and apologize for his behavior. He hadn't meant to be callous, it's just that the relationships never felt right. And when something didn't feel right, he walked away, found something else, found something that
did
feel right. Like moving back to Melbourne and starting his own renovation business.

Like being with Maddie.

He thumped the steering wheel as he pulled into the driveway of his mother's Sixties cream brick house. He'd offered to buy her something more modern in a better part of town but she'd refused. She said she liked her place. She knew which creaking floorboards to avoid, she knew precisely where to thump the hot water system so that it didn't groan, and she'd spent years getting the garden just the way she liked it. Besides, his father's ashes were scattered amongst the roses and she didn't want to leave some of him behind.

Sam hadn't pushed the issue. Instead, he'd bought her a red Honda sports car. She liked to zip out to the shops and the tennis club in it, always ensuring she passed her friends' houses on the way. These friends just happened to be the ones who said Sam was a trouble-maker when he was a teen and wouldn't amount to anything.

He and his mother thought alike on some things. But not many.

"Sammy, honey, did you enjoy your jog with Pete?" she asked when he entered. She wore a powder blue suit with matching shoes, her snow white hair tied back with a bow of the same fabric. Not a hair was out of place. None dared.

"Yeah, the jog was fine. Lunch afterwards sucked."

She placed her arm around his waist. "Sit down and tell your old mother all about it."

He pulled away. "I don't want to talk about it. It's private."

"I'm your mother. Nothing is private from me."

Ain't that the truth
. Back in school, she always seemed to know what he'd done the second he'd done it. Her network put the CIA to shame.

"If that boy, Pete Murphy, is giving you a hard time, you let me know. I'll straighten him out."

He sighed. "It's not Pete."

"I never did like him. He's a bad influence on you. I don't know how that Linda Clarke put up with him for so long. Not that she was much better," she said with a sniff. "Always getting into trouble. She used to give her poor mother a nasty rash every time she was caught escaping out the window. Definitely a bad influence. Not like that lovely sister of hers."

"Maddie. Yeah, she's just lovely." The break-your-heart-and-jump-on-it kind of lovely. "Mum, we're not sixteen anymore and Pete's an okay guy. Linda's a little loopy still, but I like her. And their kids are great."

She clicked her tongue. "Imagine two irresponsible people like Pete and Linda bringing up children. I shudder to think."

"Mum! They're great parents."

She didn't look like she believed him but he wasn't going to labor the point. She'd never change her mind about some things, nor would she believe that a wayward teenager could grow up to be a responsible adult and parent. Unless that wayward teenager was her son.

"Besides, I think I was a worse influence on Pete than he was on me."

"Nonsense. You were just going through a phase."

A phase that lasted nearly twenty years.

She patted his hand. "Anyway, you were going to tell me what's bothering you."

"No, I wasn't."

"Don't be silly. If it's not Pete, then what happened over lunch?"

He shook his head and started to stand but she said "Sit down" so forcefully and he wasn't in the mood to argue with her. He'd done enough of that as a teenager and it hadn't gotten him anywhere except away from Melbourne. He was ready to give her another chance. If he didn't pull out his hair and grind his teeth down to the gums first.

She tapped a manicured nail on the table. "I know what the problem is."

"You do?"

"It's the children. They were being obnoxious. All that shouting and running around—it's enough to give one a headache. Children should be—"

"No, Mum. The kids are fun. I told you that. I love kids, despite the shouting and running around."

She grimaced and he made a mental note that his mother wasn't ready for grandchildren yet. Just as well because if Maddie didn't back down, it was going to take a hell of a long time to find someone else he wanted to have kids with.

Whoa
. The thought side-swiped him with all the force of a truck. Where the hell had that come from? He’d only begun to date her, now he was thinking about having children with her? Jeez, he did have it bad.

"So what was the problem?" she went on. "The food? Did that Linda Clarke feed you—"

"Enough." He held up his hands. The only way to get her to stop badgering him was to tell her. He sighed. "It's Maddie. She was there."

"Linda's sister? I thought you liked her. You went on a date with her yesterday."

"Yeah, I like her. She doesn't like me."

His mother shot up and stood ram-rod straight. She leaned forward slightly and placed her knuckles on the table. "How can she not like you! You're handsome, healthy, rich and you have all your own hair. What more would a woman want?" She shook her head and sat with a thud. She stared down at the table as if looking for answers on the spotless surface. "That's just ridiculous. Not like my Sammy? No," she muttered. "No, no, no. Not possible. All the girls like you. They always have. When you were a boy, I used to hang up on them all the time."

"You hung up on girls who called me? Mum!"

She waved her hand. "Only the ones I didn't like. Anyway I haven't done it in years."

"That's because I haven't lived here in years." He rubbed his jaw and closed his eyes. His life was disintegrating. His mother was more out of control than he remembered. Maybe he should go back to Sydney. At least that city didn't have his mother in it. Or Maddie.

Then again, maybe not.

"I think it's time I moved out," he said. "Get my own place."

"But you just got back. Can't you stay here a little longer?" She came around the table and touched his face with both hands. "It's been lovely having you home again. The house has missed you. I've missed you."

He sighed again. The woman was the world champion of emotional blackmail. "We're cramping each other's style, Mum. Just yesterday you said you were having a friend over, but when I came home early you changed your mind."

She straightened, a forced smile frozen on her lips. "Don't worry about me, Sammy, you just go about your business like this is your home again."

Just like his mother, avoiding the real issue. Which confirmed his suspicions that her friend was a man.

"Mum, I'm thirty-two. I need to have my own place and so do you. Besides, I've lived on my own for fifteen years and living here makes me feel like a kid again."

She looked at him blankly and gave a small shrug as if to say "So?".

"I need my space," he said.

"So you can have women over?"

"So you can have men over."

She spluttered something he couldn't make out and disappeared into the kitchen. He felt like saying "Gotcha", but didn't think she'd find it funny, so he let it slide.

He drummed his fingers on the table. At least his mother was dating again. That was definitely a good sign. Maybe. But what if it was serious? What did he do for a living? Was he an axe murderer? What were his intentions towards—

Ugh, he was turning into
her
—always prying and thinking the worst. Now he knew why she screened his dates first. But
he'd
never hang up on her boyfriends, and he would approve more of her dates than she ever had. He couldn't remember bringing a single girl home that she'd liked. Which made her approval of Maddie so much more amazing. Not that he needed her approval, but it was nice to finally have it.

Except Maddie wanted nothing to do with him. How the hell could he change that? Short of begging, he was all out of options, and he didn't think begging would work on her. Not that she was heartless, just stubborn.

He smiled, remembering the way she'd refused to jump into the lake with him. Stubborn all right, but damn hot too.

His mother returned, a plate of scones in one hand and a glass of milk in the other. He groaned. "Mum, I'm not a kid."

"Everyone needs their calcium," she said with a sniff, "including thirty-two year old men." She placed the plate and glass in front of him. "Now, tell me why Maddie Clarke doesn't like my boy. What did you do?"

"Nothing!" He frowned. "And since when is it my fault? Before, you said—"

"I know what I said, but now that I've had time to think about it, I realized you must have said something to upset her. Perhaps she's jealous. Women always liked you, and if she saw you with—"

"She's not jealous." Was she? No, not possible. He hadn't shown interest in anyone else while he'd been with her. He
wasn't
interested in anyone else.

"You must have done something. Sensible girls like Maddie Clarke don't break up with boys like you for no reason."

"Boys like me?"

"Yes. You know the sort." She eyed him beneath blue-shadowed lids. "Always getting into trouble, talking back to the teachers and parents. Girls always like those kind of boys. Even the sensible girls. And you were such a rebellious boy, and she was such a sweet girl."

He shook his head. This was surreal. Grown men should
not
have conversations about women with their mothers. "Well, she doesn't like me, but I like her. A lot."

His mother reached over and patted his hand again. "Then go talk to her. Trust me. She likes you. She's just playing hard to get."

He smiled. He couldn't help it—she was trying. "I doubt it, Mum, but thanks. I think I will go and see her. She's worth another try."

She gave him that benevolent smile she used whenever he took her advice. "Good. And when you get back we can go through the weekend papers and look for a house for you."

He cocked an eyebrow. "You've changed your tune quick."

"I thought about it in the kitchen and you're right. You are cramping my style."

He chuckled. "What's his name?"

She fingered the hem of her jacket, then sighed and looked up. "Kevin. Kevin Bowcher."

"That name sounds familiar." He frowned as he crossed the living room to the front door. "Didn't I go to school with his daughters?"

A flash of alarm crossed her face. "Uh, yes. You dated them both. More or less at the same time."

"Oh, yeah."

She shooed him out the front door, then closed it behind him. He studied the crisscross of the porch tiles, recalling the twins he'd dated in high school. They were cute, but hard work. One always had to outdo the other. He'd dated Kate for two weeks then had a brief fling with Miranda after she threatened to tell her father he'd taken her sister's virginity if he didn't. And Kevin Bowcher wasn't a man to take lightly. The ex-con had a reputation for—

Ex-con!

Jeez, his mother was dating a criminal. And she thought
he
was the rebellious one.

Ever since she discovered the comfort of chocolate, Maddie had liked to eat her way through a crisis. This one called for the big guns. She sat on her couch, an old Clint Eastwood movie in the video player, and surveyed the spread on her coffee table. Impressive, even by her standards. Two Snickers, a jumbo pack of M&Ms and three Dove bars. With an array like that, she could indulge herself out of any depression. Even this one.

But it proved to be a tough job requiring more than a few chocolate bars. She needed ice cream. The sinful kind, with real chocolate chips and full cream, the kind that cost more than a meal at some restaurants. But her freezer was empty. Damn, damn, damn.

She paused the video, got up and padded shoeless to the hall table where she always dropped her car keys when she arrived home. Catching a glimpse of Linda Blair's evil twin in the hall mirror, she screamed. She was used to bad hair days—unruly curls like hers guaranteed them—but this was taking the messy look too far. She shouldn't have worn it loose today. Normally she wouldn't but for some reason that had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Sam said he liked it that way, she hadn't pulled it back into a ponytail.

She headed for the bedroom. If she was going out for ice cream, she needed to look half way decent. And if she had to fix herself up, why not go all the way? If she looked good, she'd feel better, right?

She shrugged at her image in the cheval mirror.
A girl can only try.

She shed her track pants, over-sized T-shirt and beige underwear and rummaged in her drawer for the second set of sexy, matching lingerie she owned. This set was riskier. Linda had given it to her for her birthday a few months earlier in the hope of reviving Maddie's love life. It hadn't worked.

She located the red thong and matching lace bra at the back of her bottom drawer. She studied the thong dangling from the end of her finger. The miniscule strip of material looked like it couldn't cover a freckle let alone a woman's privates. God only knows why women wear them—what was the point? And that piece of string up there
must
be uncomfortable.

But hey, it was meant to make her feel good, so she might as well give it a try. And the bra was the push-up kind, like the one she wore yesterday, and that had been sexy. Right now she needed to feel sexy, just to help her out of her crappy mood. And as long as she stayed dry, no one need know what underwear she wore.

She wiggled into the thong and poured her breasts into the bra, hooking it at the front. She checked herself out in the mirror and sniggered. She looked like a hooker. Her ass and cleavage never looked so full. Her breasts were so far out there she could rest her coffee mug on them.

Next came the plunging summer dress that complemented the bra since it revealed way too much flesh. Her fingers skimmed the short hem. Heaven help her if a breeze whipped up. Now
that
would get heads turning, for all the wrong reasons. Or maybe it was the right reasons? She had no idea what she was doing but she was going to do it. Maddie Clarke had never taken a walk on the wild side in her life. It was about time she started.

She rummaged through her closet for stilettos but she only owned flat, sensible work ones. No heels. She sighed and caught a glimpse in the mirror again.

Yikes! What was she thinking! She wanted to look good, not get arrested for street walking.

She unzipped the dress and was about to step out of it when the doorbell rang. Damn. She zipped it back up and headed for the front door. If this was Linda coming to tell her she was stupid for dumping Sam AGAIN, she was going to send her out for ice cream.

But it wasn't Linda. Sam Hennessy stood in her doorway, the way he had yesterday and the day before—leaning lazily against the doorframe, ankles crossed, a mischievous twinkle lighting up his blue eyes. When he saw what she wore, the twinkle became a hot blue flame and his jaw dropped to his chest.

"Holy..." His heavy-lidded gaze skimmed up and down her body, twice, coming to rest on the exposed cleavage. He murmured something that sounded like "help" but she couldn’t be certain.

Maddie's skin prickled and heated in all the places his gaze had touched. She swallowed.
Chin up, girl, don't let him sense your fear.

"Is that what you always wear on a Sunday afternoon at home?" His gaze wandered slowly up to her eyes. A shadow passed across his face and his jaw set. "Or are you expecting someone?"

"Just Linda." She tried to sound calm but it came out as a pathetic squeak.

He blew out a long breath through his nose and his jaw slackened again. "Do you always dress like this for your sister?"

Act cool. Something must have brought him to your door. Just be calm until he tells you what it is.
"Like what?" She did a mental head smack. This wasn’t going well.

He focused on her breasts again. "Um, never mind."

Maddie crossed her arms beneath her boobs, but that just plumped them up more so she let her hands fall to her sides. "Sam, is something wrong?"

"Hell no," he mumbled, a smile tugging his lips.

"Then why are you here?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I need to talk to you."

"About?"

"Can I come in first?"

"No."

His foot shifted so it was just inside the door jamb. She couldn’t close the door even if she tried. "Go on. Let me in. This won’t take long."

That’s not how the rumors went. Sam tended to take a looong time over a woman—

He raised his brows at her as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. He was even smirking. Damn him.

The only way to wipe that smirk away was to invite him in. She did, going against every instinct that was screaming at her to shut the door in his face before it was too late. Before she succumbed to his abundant charms once more.

Inside, he plucked the front of his T-shirt. "Is it hot in here?"

"Feels kind of warm. I'll turn the air conditioning up." She stood on tiptoes and reached up to the panel above the door. When she turned around, Sam's eyes had gone glassy.

"Sorry," he muttered, blinking and tearing his gaze away from her thighs. "But I'm just a man and that dress on you is," he sucked in air, "torture."

Now he knew how she felt when he wore, well, anything. "Maybe I should get changed," she said.

"No!" He rubbed his jaw and sighed deeply as he studied her. "Yeah, okay, I think you better. I need to concentrate."

She headed for the bedroom, feeling his hot stare burning a hole into her behind.

"But it goes against every male hormone I possess to let you."

Maddie shut the door on him, unable to hide her smile. Wow the dress was good. She'd have to remember to wear it when she really did want to impress a guy. She just wished that guy was Sam—for real.

Every male hormone I possess.

The familiar sinking feeling settled into her stomach. She'd almost forgotten, but his hormones reminded her—it wasn't the dress or her body that was making him foam at the mouth, it was Pheramour. She hadn't bathed in it since the day before but the chemicals and essential oils must be lodged deep in her epidermis, and it would probably take more than one shower before it wore off.

She sat heavily on the edge of the bed. Her life was pathetic. She'd fantasized about one man for more years than she cared to remember, and here he was in her house, drooling on her carpet, and she wasn't going to take advantage of him. She couldn't. Her conscious wouldn't allow it. Her heart couldn't handle it.

Hell. Why couldn't she just have a fun roll in the hay with him and leave it at that? That's what Linda would tell her to do.

Yeah, well Linda wasn't thirty, unwed and childless. Linda's plan was on schedule—probably ahead of schedule—and she was used to flirting and having men find her attractive. This was all new territory for Maddie. And knowing that Pheramour was the reason behind the attraction wasn't making it any easier to accept. In fact, it only made it harder.

"Maddie?" Sam called through the door. "I've changed my mind. You can keep the dress on."

She rolled her eyes and almost smiled. "Too late. It's off."

He muttered something that sounded like a swear word.

She shrugged out of her dress but kept the lingerie on. He wouldn't see anything and she liked the way the bra gave her an extra boost. She stepped into an old pair of jeans and oversized white shirt. She hesitated at the door and undid the top two buttons to reveal just enough cleavage to catch his attention but not enough that he'd walk into walls.

She sucked in a few deep breaths but it didn't make her feel any less nervous. Best to get it over with. Let Sam say what he wanted to say then she could tell him she had to wash her hair. The sooner he left the better. For both of them.

He was studying the back of the empty DVD cover when she returned to the living room. "You're a fan of Eastwood? I didn't think chicks liked his films."

"I'm not your average chick."

His blue stare grazed over her body, from her pulled back hair to her bare feet. It was no less intense than when she wore the dress. "No kidding." His voice rumbled from deep in his chest and Maddie felt it vibrate deep within hers.

She swallowed. Oh boy. How was she supposed to have a sensible conversation with a man who made her inner thighs tremble? She needed to get rid of him, now, before her heart got broken.

And by the hunger in his eyes, that moment wasn't far away.

Sam couldn't take his eyes off Maddie. She looked hot. It didn't matter whether she wore the barely-there dress or the over-sized shirt, especially when she stood in front of the window and the streaming sunlight outlined her luscious curves through the thin white cotton. She looked incredible, and it never ceased to surprise him that this was Maddie Clarke, intellectual, the little sister of one of his friends. She'd grown into the most amazing woman and he was suddenly glad he'd been away all this time so he could witness this transformation afresh. Somehow, it was easy to miss the important things when they happened right in front of your face.

He wouldn't have missed this for all the sport on TV. Thank God for his wandering spirit and his spur of the moment idea to return to Melbourne.

Now, if only he could touch her again.

He blew out a breath as she moved around the living room, avoiding looking directly at him. She picked up the chocolate bar wrappers, plumped up cushions and fussed until things were back in their proper place. He didn't mind. He could stare at her all day doing everything or nothing. She was graceful, her movements fluid, like a lithe cat as she bent, walked or simply stood.

Sam tore his gaze away. He needed to concentrate on not making a fool of himself in front of her. Now
that
would be a challenge, especially if she kept standing in front of windows.

The silence intensified and he tried to think of something to say. Anything to break the awkwardness which she didn't seem to notice. But before he got a chance to mention the great weather they were having, she disappeared into the kitchen. A few moments later he followed her. She stood at the bench and put the kettle on. He watched her move, from the tipping of her head as she poured the water to the swell of her hips as she leaned against the bench. He wanted to touch them, to place his hands on the soft flesh and caress her, from the top of her spine to the cleft of her—

So much for concentrating on something other than Maddie's body.

"Why are you staring?" she asked without turning round.

"Um, I was just wondering how to ask you something."

She did turn this time. A small dint settled between her brows as she frowned at him. "Don't, Sam."

So much for asking her why they couldn't date anymore. "Actually, I was going to ask you to help me find a place to live."

She leaned against the kitchen bench and crossed her arms, covering those big, beautiful mounds he wanted to lick.

He tore his attention away from her body and up to her face. He tried to read her thoughts but her blank expression gave him nothing.

"I need to move out of Mum's," he said. "I'm cramping her style."

"Not the other way round?"

He cringed at the accusatory tone. She still thought he was the kind of guy to date several women at once? Unfair. He hadn’t done that in years. "Not this time. Believe me, Mum's changed since Dad died. She's discovered life. And men."

"So why can't
she
help you find a place?"

"She will. That's what I'm worried about." He swept his hand in an arc. "I like your style. You've got great taste, Maddie. I just thought," he shrugged, "that I could borrow some of that style. Maybe once I get a place you can help me furnish it."

"Don't you already have furniture?"

"Yeah, but it won’t be right. Not...comfortable enough." And what better way to keep her near him than to go shopping with her. Women loved shopping.

She didn't give him an answer but turned her back and opened a cupboard door. He couldn't help smiling. Her mugs were sorted into colors, darkest to lightest then sub-sorted by size. Not only cute but organized. He needed someone like that to sweep into his life, remove the clutter and put everything where it was supposed to be. Someone to keep him in the same place and on the right track.

A chill crept across his skin but a rush of heat chased it away. His heart pumped wildly in his rib cage and he sat up straight. This was one of those moments people talked about. The sort of moment that changes a person's life.

He'd found his soul mate.