Aussie Rules

Chapter 20

After Mel’s charter left Dimi found herself craving chocolate. It was all Bo’s fault, she decided, as she inhaled a Hershey’s bar from Mel’s hidden stash. Bo’s and…damn it, Mel’s.

Yeah, that’s right. She really wanted to blame Mel for not fixing this the way she’d fixed everything else over the years, even as Dimi hated herself for the thought. It drove her to go for yet another chocolate bar, after which she felt like crap and was filled with self-loathing, a sense of worthlessness, and a fear for the future she couldn’t eat away.

“Damn it.” She reached for the phone and called Brian, the tall, dark, and hunky guy she’d drooled over at the gym the other night while watching him go through his weight-lifting routine.

He’d worked out shirtless, wearing only shorts, looking amazing at every single station. When he was done, his body taut and quivering and damp with sweat, he’d swiped his face with a towel and locked gazes with her.

She’d felt that familiar thrill, that age-old “gotta have him” lurch deep inside, and she’d smiled.

His eyes had bloomed with heat and a good amount of trouble as he’d smiled back, and her engine had revved.

When she’d gotten to her car after her own workout, he’d left his card on her windshield. Brian Desota, attorney at law.

Yum.

Even better, he answered his phone, he was available, and thirty minutes later, he picked her up at North Beach, looking hot in all black as he drove her to a new restaurant in town.

It started out good, with lots of potential, so it shocked Dimi when he insulted the waiter. He’d also, she remembered, been rude to the valet. And no matter how many drinks Dimi ordered, he still got uglier and uglier.

She sure could pick ’em.

Finally the meal was over and they stood outside his car. She didn’t want to get into the passenger seat and let him take her home, despite the fact that it was fifteen miles from North Beach, it was raining cats and dogs, and she was more than a little tipsy. But in truth, she’d rather risk life and limb, and walk every single one of those miles barefoot than spend another moment with him.

“Get in,” he said, adding a little nudge to the small of her back.

Another problem: having met her drink for drink, he wasn’t feeling any pain, either. Always, that had seemed like a turn-on for Dimi, a man who could drink right alongside her.

But suddenly, it felt old. She wanted to get to know someone and remember what they had to say. She wanted to wake up without a headache, wanted to get through the afternoon without yearning for a glass of wine.

She wanted to look in the mirror and not see a woman who looked harder and colder every single day.

“Get in,” he said again, raising his voice over a boom of thunder.

No. The word was no, but as everyone in the entire universe knew, she had a little problem saying it. “Actually,” she began, and sent him a smile she hoped looked halfway genuine, “I-”

“You’re not changing your mind about coming to my house,” he said. “Not after that expensive dinner.”

Her brows knitted. “I never said I’d go to your house.”

“Sweetheart, it was implied.” His hand, low on her spine, became firm as he tried to get her inside his car.

“No.” She lifted her chin, and with rain coming down into her face, looked into his now cooling eyes. “No.” She backed out of his grip and stood beneath the restaurant awning next to the valet. “Thank you for dinner, but good night.”

His jaw went tight, and suddenly not a single bit of that earlier hunkiness she’d seen in him showed.

What was it with her? Did she have a “looking for an asshole” sign on her forehead?

“I won’t call you again,” he warned.

She nearly laughed, but it would have come out half-hysterical so she bit it back. “I know. I don’t want you to.”

Now temper filled his eyes along with the annoyance, and she just sighed as he sped off, screeching out of the parking lot. Yeah, she sure could pick them. She opened her cell again and dialed Mel. It took her two tries, which told her she was either a bit more tipsy than she’d thought, or thoroughly shaken. Maybe some combination of both.

“Anderson Air,” came Mel’s voice, sounding extremely out of breath, and extremely distracted.

Dimi frowned. “You’re on your way back from the Bay?”

“No.”

“Okay, good.” Dimi reached out and gripped the back of the bench beneath the awning for balance, a little unnerved to find herself weaving. “I need a ride from-”

“I’m still in San Francisco. Grounded by the storm.”

“Oh.” Dimi looked out into the dark night and felt…alone. Extremely, frighteningly alone. “Are you stuck in the airport?”

“Uh, no.” Mel hesitated. “I’m getting a room, we’re nearly at the hotel now.”

“We?” Dimi staggered back a step. “You, and…Bo?” She realized she’d only been mildly upset by her date, at least compared to this. “Mel. You can’t-”

“Look, tell it to Mother Nature, okay? I’m sorry I can’t pick you up. I thought you were on a date.”

“Were being the operative word.”

“Oh, God.” Mel’s voice softened. “What happened? Are you okay? Was he a jerk? Goddamn this weather-”

“I have a feeling I’m better off than you are.” Dimi’s throat went thick at all the worry and love in Mel’s voice. “Hey, listen, I’m okay. But you…You be careful.”

“Right back atcha,” Mel said.

Dimi nodded even though she knew Mel couldn’t see her, and closed her phone. The chilly rain brought goose bumps out on her arms, and she hugged herself.

“Ma’am?” The valet stood in front of her with an umbrella. “Do you need me to call you a cab?”

Cabs were few and far between in the city, where most everyone drove themselves. The thought of waiting around seemed to bring her down even further. “No, thanks.” She opened her cell again, accessed her saved numbers and tried Kellan. No answer. She hit the next number, which would be Ritchie, and waited.

“’Lo,” came the sleepy voice.

Dimi blinked. “Ritchie?”

“Danny.”

She stared at her phone. She’d hit the wrong number. Oh, God. Anyone but him, the one guy she’d rather not have see her this way. Not again. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Dimi.” He sounded wide awake now. “What’s the matter?”

Just the sound of his voice tightened her throat. Pathetic. She was pathetic being on the verge of a breakdown tonight. So she’d had a bad date. Again. She should be used to it. She wasn’t the type of woman who men treated nicely. “Nothing’s the matter. Sorry I woke you.” She shut the phone and shoved it in her purse. “Idiot,” she told herself, huddled beneath the awning as the storm kicked it up a notch. “You’re an idiot-”

Her cell began vibrating. She reached into her purse and looked at it. Danny. Slowly she flipped the cell open.

“Just tell me if you need help,” he said without a greeting. “Because I sure as hell can’t go back to sleep until I know.”

She winced, touched the phone to her forehead and scrunched her eyes tight as regret, pride, and stupidity all played tag with each other in her brain.

“Dimi.”

She sighed. Oh, what the hell, he’d asked. “I could use a ride,” she admitted.

“Your date went bad.”

“Just a little bit, yeah.”

To give him credit, he didn’t say a word about that. “Where are you?”

She told him. “I could just catch a cab-”

“Don’t move.” Disconnect.

With a sigh, she sat on the fancy bench in front of the fancy restaurant to wait, and tried not to think. In twelve minutes flat, Danny pulled up with a screech, getting out of his big, beat-up truck and into the rain.

Tonight he wore a pair of jeans loose on his lean hips, flip-flops, and a T-shirt worn thin at all the seams that said BITE ME across the chest and was getting wetter by the second.

She stared at the words on his shirt, feeling something tighten deep inside her.

He was a fellow rebel.

How had she missed that about him? He looked rumpled, sleepy, and unsmiling as he strode right to her, pulled her up from the bench and peered into her face. “Are you all right?”

“I’m sorry-”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

He looked her over as if needing to make sure for himself, then let out a breath. “Okay, then.”

How was it that she’d never noticed how cute he was? His blond hair, wet now, fell nearly to his shoulders, with a stubborn strand stabbing him in the eyes. His mouth was grim at the moment but when he smiled, which she knew he did with ease, it was never cruel. Nothing mean ever crossed those lips.

Those lips. She couldn’t tear her gaze off them, which she had to attribute to the sheer volume of alcohol she’d consumed, because she didn’t care about lips. Why should she when she never kissed? Never wanted to?

But from deep within her she craved his lips, his kiss. It made no sense, but clearly, tonight, she wasn’t about making sense. Compounding error on error, she leaned in and touched his mouth with hers.

His shock vibrated through her, but she did it again, staring into his eyes as she balanced herself on tiptoe by holding onto his arms and kissed him.

He held himself rigid, unmoving, but beneath her fingers she felt the strength of him, and then she felt him tremble.

Tremble.

More. She had to have more, so she touched her tongue to the corner of his mouth, tasting him. “Mmm,” she murmured, and finally, finally, shattered his rigid control. With a rough sound, he hauled her up against him and kissed her, ohmigod kissed her, head bent, mouth fused to hers, tongue sweeping inside her mouth to claim hers…

This was what she’d needed so badly tonight, and all those other nights. If she’d only known what she was missing…But no, that wasn’t right. It was because it was Danny that she felt such a delicious oblivion. Clearly he knew what he was doing. She could lose herself, she could feel it, and he’d keep her safe. She wouldn’t have to think.

Just feel.

Thank God, she thought, and wrapped herself around him, nearly crying in relief, but then she was blinking in surprise because he’d pulled away, supporting her until she nodded, and then dropping his hands from her as if burned, stepping back, averting his face so that she couldn’t see into his eyes.

“Danny?”

He was breathing hard, looking extremely unlike his usual laid-back, easygoing self. “I’m not doing this,” he grounded out. “Not like this. Not in front of a damn restaurant, with you so drunk you can’t stand up straight.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“Plenty wasted, though.”

She staggered back a step and tried to figure out how she’d gone from feeling as if she might explode into orgasm from just a kiss, to wanting to crawl into a hole and die.

Without another word he led her to his truck, waited for her to get in and buckle up, and then came around and got in behind the wheel. The both of them dripping everywhere, he shoved the truck into gear and pulled out into the street.

The night was dark, the highway had no lights. The cab of his truck had a slight glow from the instruments on the dash, but she didn’t need to see him to feel the tension. Hers, certainly. And also his. He was mad, furious even, and yet for that one glorious moment when he’d held her close, she knew he’d been aroused. Even the thought sent a shiver of thrill through her. She’d made him hard. “Why did you come for me?” she whispered.

An oncoming car slashed light over his tense features as he turned to her. “Because you called.”

“But you’re mad at me.”

“One thing has nothing to do with the other.”

Her head was beginning to spin, and with a sound of distress, she put her hand to it.

He swore, then jerked the truck to the side of the road and braked hard.

“I’m not going to get sick in your truck,” she said. “I’m not that drunk. A pity, really, because believe me, the night sucked.”

“I’m not worried about you getting sick. You know how to hold your alcohol. Which isn’t a compliment, by the way.” A raindrop slid down his jaw, plopped onto his chest. His shirt was plastered to his torso. “I can be pissed as hell at you, Deem, and still be there when you need me. I wish you’d get that through your thick skull.”

She couldn’t breathe. She could only draw air into her lungs. “That’s a foolish thing to tell me. It gives me the upper hand.”

His eyes were dark, and extremely solemn as he shook his head. “Actually, what I was hoping it would give you is a sense of…I don’t know. Security.”

Security. Her greatest fantasy, and because it had continually eluded her, also her greatest fear. That he’d so cavalierly throw it around confused her.

And hurt. “You know what? I gotta go.” She fumbled for the door handle, but Danny beat her to it, locking it, waiting until she turned to glare at him.

“Go ahead and be pissed,” he said. “That’ll make us a fine pair.”

“Danny-”

“I’m taking you home,” he grated out. “All the way home.”

“No.” She grappled with the lock, but became both horrified and humiliated to find her hands shaking. Shaking. “Oh, God.” She set her forehead to the glass. “I’m sorry. So sorry. I shouldn’t have let you come for me. Not you.”

Gripping her shoulders, he pulled her around to look at him, his usually soft, melting eyes furious. “Why, because I hate knowing you’re out there every night, all night? Because I hate knowing that one day a phone call in the middle of the night won’t be necessary because you won’t be able to make a phone call?”

Backing away as far as she could, until the door handle dug into her back, she crossed her arms over her chest and hugged herself. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you had to come out here tonight. I’m sorry I’ve made you mad.” She swallowed, blinked back tears. “I’m sorry I kissed you. I don’t know why I did that, I never do that.”

He frowned. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t like to kiss.”

He looked floored. “What?”

“Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.” She turned away. “And anyway, this is all your own fault.”

“How the hell do you figure that?”

She looked out the window, staring blindly into the night and uttered the truth for once. “Because you’ve never made a move on me,” she whispered.

He pulled back as if she’d slapped him. She felt his gaze boring into her but she had exhausted herself with that last outburst and didn’t look at him, instead pressed her hot forehead to the cool glass.

The beat of silence stretched out, and in it she wanted to die. Thankfully, without another word, Danny shoved the truck into gear and steered back onto the highway and drove her home.

Which was good, really, because she didn’t want to hear him apologize for not wanting her. She’d had enough humiliation for one night.

When he finally pulled into her driveway, she fumbled with the door, unable to get out quickly enough.

“Dimi-”

“Thank you,” she muttered, and ran out of his truck and into her place before he could do anything stupid. Before she could do anything stupid.

Like beg him to come in.

The San Francisco Regatta Hotel was big and far fancier than Mel would have picked on her own, but the Huttons had insisted that she and Bo join them-so they all climbed into the Huttons’ limo waiting at the airport, and drove to the hotel.

Mel was quite certain the Huttons’s credit card hadn’t groaned and nearly keeled over on the spot at the front desk from the night’s rate. Still muttering about it, she entered her posh, elegant hotel room and stood there feeling a bit like a bull in a china shop. Tossing her duffel bag onto the fancy, silky, perfectly made bed, she took a deep, calming breath.

Which backed up into her throat when she realized two things at once. One, her hotel door hadn’t shut behind her. And two, that was because Bo stood in the opened doorway, watching her.

Damn it, she was still a little shaky from the adrenaline rush of the rough flight. She couldn’t deal with him now, standing there looking disheveled and sexy.

“That was some flying,” he said.

She turned away and told herself that her stomach jangled because she was still shaken. “Yeah, well, that’s what you get for getting on a flight you hadn’t planned on.”

“Can’t plan out your whole life, you know.”

Maybe not, but she’d tried. Planning meant a lot to her. It gave her a sense of routine, and routine was what had gotten her through some incredibly tough times.

He stepped closer. “Sometimes you’ve just got to wing it.”

Such as having sex with him, she supposed. Wild, erotic, earthy, glorious sex during which she knew she’d come with such ease it still blew her mind.

Not fair that he made her yearn and burn, and not just for another orgasm. He made her yearn and burn to be what she’d always secretly wished that she could be: spontaneous, easygoing, and…dare she even think it?…sexy.

With a soft laugh, he tugged lightly at her hair. “Earth to Mel.”

“I’m here.”

He looked at her for a moment. “That was a tough flight, and I meant what I said. You pulled it off with grace.”

“Imagine that. Me with grace.”

He didn’t laugh with her. In fact, his face remained utterly solemn as he lifted his other hand and cupped her face.

Oh, God. “Don’t,” she said shakily.

“Don’t what? Touch you?”

“Right. And don’t look at me like that, either. Like you’re proud of me, like you care about me.”

“Too bad, since both apply.”

“No, they don’t. Not really.” She took a step back. “Look, I’m a difficult woman-”

“Wow, there’s a news flash.”

“I’m serious.”

“Me, too. Now, about that servicing.”

Her entire body leapt to attention at that, and she took another step back. Her thighs hit the mattress.

He came forward some more, and her hands came up to his chest. Beneath her fingers she could feel the steady beat of his heart. Hers wasn’t nearly as steady, but she told herself that that was lingering adrenaline from the flight. She opened her mouth to say something, she had no idea what, but her cell vibrated in her pocket. The ID was foreign, possibly Mexican, and now her poor overworked heart skipped a beat entirely.

Bo cut his eyes to the cell. “Sally.”

She hurriedly flipped it open. “Hello?” Nothing. “Hello? Sally?”

More nothing.

She and Bo stared at each other. “Bad connection,” she said slowly, closing the phone with great reluctance. They looked at it for a long moment, both more strained than they’d been on the crazy flight here, but it didn’t ring again.

“Call back,” Bo said tightly.

She punched in all the numbers, then locked gazes with him while it rang somewhere far away, her heart pounding, pounding…

No one answered.

“It could have been a wrong number,” she murmured. “Not Sally-”

Bo put a finger over her lips, his eyes hot, dark, and fascinating. “I can take a lot, Mel, and have, but no more lies, not from you.”

She’d hurt him. She hadn’t meant to, but she had. When he’d first shown up here, she’d been prepared to hate him on principle, had wanted to hate him. But then he’d brought in customers when she couldn’t. He’d kept the employees when maybe he shouldn’t. He’d given her a lease that set her up for a good long time.

He hadn’t sold…

At least not yet.

All of which was more than she could say for Sally, who’d vanished on them, no warning, no help, nothing.

In sharp contrast, Bo had been here for her, for all of them, and no anger could hold up to that. “I’m not lying to you,” she said, and waited until he met her gaze. “I really don’t know where she is, I swear it. I never have.”

“What about the money you sent her?”

“Always electronically to her account.”

“So who’s trying to warn you off digging for more info, Mel?”

She closed her eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. It’s her.” He put his hand against her throat, then slid his fingers into her hair, lightly tugging on her ponytail so he could stare deep into her eyes. She did her best to convey her honesty, but knew he had no reason to trust her.

“What else aren’t you telling me?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

She licked her lips, and his gaze dropped to them, his eyes glittering. “Seriously,” she said. “You know it all now.”

He waited, every muscle tense.

“No more lies, Bo,” she whispered. “I promise.”

“That’s quite a promise.”

“I mean it.”

He laughed a little harshly, but then he lowered his head so that he was a mere breath away. Their gazes locked, held…

And then he kissed her, and all wondering and worrying went out the window along with her good intentions and common sense. He changed the angle of the kiss to suit him, opening his mouth, sliding his tongue to hers in a dance as old as time. “Mel,” he breathed, just that, and clamped her head between his big hands, nibbling, licking, sucking, and all around driving her right off the edge of sanity and straight into lust-ville. She was clinging to him, whimpering, panting, desperate, when he pulled back.

“Say it again,” he demanded.

She tried to take a step back, and fell onto the mattress.

Bo stepped between her thighs, leaning over her, staring into her eyes with a single-mindedness that brought her out of her fog, barely. “Say it. Say ‘no more lies, Bo.’”

She blinked. Focused past the sensual haze in her brain. “Is that why you kissed me?”

“When I kiss you, you become the real Mel, no holding back, no lies, no façades. Just you. It’s like a truth serum.”

She stared up at him, hurt sneaking in past her defenses. She’d nearly torn off her clothes and begged him to take her. “That’s a horrible thing to do. Get out of my room.”

“Gee, you must be done talking.”

“I’m done with you.”

Still leaning over her, a hand on either side of her hips, he shook his head. “Look at that, another lie already.”

“What does that mean?”

“Come on, you feel the sparks, too.”

“Yeah, sparks of temper!”

“Yet another lie,” he said very softly.

She let out a frustrated growl.

“Fact is fact, darlin’. Our bodies are happy together.”

She shook her head.

“Look at me.”

She couldn’t help it, her gaze ran over him. His well-worn jeans softly cupped his sex, which was obviously aroused. Her mouth went dry.

Worse, she began to perspire again.

“Now you,” he said.

She transferred her attention to her body, specifically her own breasts and her traitorous nipples, which poked through her shirt like two gumballs.

He arched a brow.

She crossed her arms.

“Doesn’t help,” he said. “Now I’m wondering what other parts of you are reacting.”

Her thighs actually quivered, and between them…more quivering.

As if he could tell, he smiled.

She was shaking as she pointed to the door, because damn, she really hated when he was right. “Get out.”

Instead, he laughed. “You don’t really mean that.”

She opened her mouth to say she did, but the message didn’t make it all the way to her brain, and as he came down over her, arms closing possessively around her, she didn’t say a word. Instead she moaned his name and met his mouth with hers.