Spaghetti bolognaise was now officially his favourite meal. No amount of gourmet cooking from the various chefs his father had hired over the years could pay homage to the feast he had just devoured. There was nothing left on his plate and he’d taken seconds. He ran his fork along the bottom of the bowl, had one last taste and settled back into his seat. He hadn’t felt so stuffed for a long time.
Maybe it was the company that had made this meal special. There was clear affection between Clover and her mother. Liam twirled the stem of his wine glass and watched Clover. She was laughing at one of her mother’s jokes, relaxed and carefree.
Her shoulders had eased from the tense line in which they were usually set. She rested on the table top with her elbows and forearms. At home, he’d never been laid back like that. He was always reminded of table manners, even on the odd occasion that their father would join them. There was certainly no laughing. No enjoyment. It highlighted how full her life was compared to what he had in his.
Clover laughed easily, moving forward to tap her mother on the shoulder. His mouth stretched as he watched them. He had been welcomed into their home and was instantly one of the family. The feeling of intimacy touched him deeply. In his own home, well it was certainly a building, he felt as though he were on the outside looking in. As a child he thought that every family was like that. But as he grew up he came to know differently. But none had highlighted it more than now.
‘And then Clover decided to adopt all the chickens,’ Gloria said. He’d tuned out on most of the conversation.
‘They were so cute. I couldn’t give them away!’
‘But there were twenty of them. Your father had to build a bigger coop,’ Gloria laughed.
‘Yes, we feasted on a lot of great tasting omelettes,’ Clover said. Her sensuous lips curved in a gorgeous smile that lit her eyes like sparkling diamonds.
Gloria smiled at Liam, reaching out to place her hand over his. He was surprised to feel a slight tremor in her touch. She squeezed her hand on his, her grip weaker than he anticipated. ‘We had so many eggs, we had to give them away. We couldn’t eat them all. There’s only so many eggs you can eat.’
‘But you like meringue.’
Gloria rolled her eyes. ‘I love meringue. I put on a few kilos when we had all those chickens. Clover and her cooking!’
Liam leaned forward. ‘Has she always cooked?’
‘When she was a child she would experiment with toast. Banana and vegemite. Cheese and biscuits. Sprinkles and ham.’
‘Sounds delicious,’ Liam said.
‘I was four. Luckily Mum let me loose in the kitchen. Mum never complained about the mess, even when I knocked flour from wall to wall.’
‘And Four-Leaf Clover was born,’ Liam said, watching Clover. She turned glowing eyes on him. She had a beautiful smile. Genuine warmth flowed from it. In fact, she was authentic from the inside out. He must have been staring too long, because her smile faltered and her gaze dropped to the table top.
‘It’s been her dream since she was a little girl,’ Gloria said. ‘She used to sit at the table and draw pictures of what it would look like inside and outside, and then she’d plan menus. I hope you enjoy the meals she cooks, because I was her guinea pig for many a year.’
Clover grinned. She didn’t say a word, but her love of Four-Leaf Clover shone though. ‘I didn’t hear any complaints!’
‘My stomach has thanked you for many a year too. I don’t think you’ve wanted anything else in your life. And you’ve got there. I’m so proud of you.’ Gloria returned Clover’s grin as she squeezed her daughter’s hand, then faced him. ‘And what do you do for a living, Liam?’
‘He’s opening the Upper Crust Bakery across the road from the café, Mum,’ Clover said. Clover turned aggrieved eyes on Liam.
‘Oh.’ Gloria sounded wonderfully unsure. Clover had told her enough about Upper Crust for her to have a good idea of what they did and what they stood for. ‘I don’t mean to intrude on your business, but don’t you usually stick to the inner suburbs and large shopping centres in major cities?’
Liam’s brows rose. ‘You know about Upper Crust?’
‘What I’ve been told by Clover.’
‘I know you see us as competition, but…’
‘It’s not that,’ Gloria said. ‘You see, the businesses around here are different to the way you operate.’
Liam frowned. ‘How so?’
‘It’s not about the business exactly…’
Clover finished for her mother. ‘Sometimes business is not about just the profits. It’s about helping people who need help.’ There was a flash in her eyes, her cheeks stained pink.
‘We employ a lot of people. We help a lot of people that way,’ Liam said.
‘It’s not about employment either. It’s about using your business for charity. Giving things away for nothing in return but for the good feeling it gives you in return,’ Clover said.
‘A business of our size has to be careful what we do. There’s no such thing as giving away something for free and just being thanked for it. Have you heard of the McDonalds case where a woman was burnt by a cup of coffee she bought? She sued because there wasn’t a disclaimer on the lid to tell her the coffee was hot. There have been cases in the US where people who took food from bins sued the supermarket because they became ill after eating the food. Unfortunately we have to cover ourselves for all situations.’
‘That’s understandable in large shopping centres and areas where you can’t have a build-up of rubbish and rotting food, but in places like Kallista, it’s different,’ Clover said.
‘Litigation would be the same. You might have to protect yourself one day.’
Clover crossed her arms and rested them on the table. ‘I hope it never comes to that. I hope I can always help people that need to be helped, but at a large shopping centre, it’s impersonal. Here, businesses have a heart. They give back to their communities. Care for the people that make their businesses a success.’
‘I wish I could change things, Clover. It would be an ideal world if I could.’
‘Maybe you could try.’
‘Why is it so important to you?’ he asked.
She swallowed. Her gaze flickered to Gloria’s. He wished he hadn’t asked anything so she wouldn’t have had to move, but on the other hand he needed to know why she was so community minded. There had to be a reason, and he was sure it had to be very important to her. It drove her day to day existence.
‘It’s…complicated,’ she whispered. She returned her gaze to his and he was caught in the heat he read in it. ‘Sometimes you just have to make an emotional investment about things that are important.’
He wanted to draw her into his arms then, tell her he would do anything he could to help her. That she could draw strength from him and he would give it freely. Happily. For the first time on a long time, he wanted to share a passion.
There was a building attraction between them. God knew it wasn’t going to lead anywhere, not when they came from so obvious opposite ends of the world, but as his words sunk in and meaning dawned on her lovely face, he was shocked to feel warmth spread through his abdomen. Warmth that could quickly grow into a primal heat.
Thankfully, Gloria dropped some cutlery, effectively severing the unsettling connection. ‘It’s time to start the dishes.’ Gloria made to stand. Her hand shook on the handle of the walking stick. Clover quickly stood and took the plate out of her hands.
‘Mum. Sit down. I’ll do it.’
‘But you’ve been working all day.’
‘Doing something I love. Just sit, Mum. There’s not many,’ Clover said.
Clover was very protective of her mother. She had worked all day, and it had been a busy day. She must be dead on her feet, but she still wouldn’t let her mother lift a finger. She pressed her hand on Gloria’s shoulder, making sure she sat back down. It was more an order than a suggestion. He wasn’t sure what ailed Gloria, but the way Clover cocooned her, it seemed serious.
‘I’ll help you. We’ll be done in no time.’
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Gloria said. Liam strode around the table, helping Gloria to her feet. He held her a moment while she balanced and had the cane firmly in hand. She waved him off as he went to move with her. ‘I’ll be fine. I’ll just be in the lounge.’ She smiled and patted his hand before she limped slowly from the kitchen.
Clover poured the hot water into the sink from the freshly boiled kettle. She tucked a thick strand of burnished hair behind her ear. He had a glimpse of a slender neck and the soft feminine sweep of her jaw. He wondered if she would bare her throat to him if he pressed his mouth to the spot just below her ear. His insides lurched with an urge that definitely was not platonic. He picked up the dishes from the table and brought them to the bench. ‘Tea-towel?’ he asked.
She raised her brows, ‘No favourite childhood meal, but you know how to use a tea towel?’
He smiled. ‘Boarding school. Everyone took turns with the chores.’ She gave him a look that said she was impressed. That simple gesture made his smile widen.
‘Just in there.’ She pointed to a drawer in the line of cupboards and he moved to get one out. While she washed, he dried and took time to observe her.
She looked tough on the outside. The way she dressed was sexy, individual, but also stated keep away. The bold colours, the black and blood-red was more a ‘dare me’ statement. She owned her look, and he liked it.
She’d taken off her boots and he found himself staring at her shapely legs down to her slender ankles. The skin was smooth, soft and entirely touchable. He imagined his palm skinning up her leg, from her toes to her thighs. Touching, massaging. Eagerly exploring.
His groin lurched when he spotted a little tattooed red heart on her ankle. He hadn’t seen it before because of those boots she wore. There was a name around the edge of the heart, written in black script. He wondered with a little too much interest if it was a past boyfriend’s name. Out of nowhere the heated head of jealousy poked in his gut. He took a plate and ran the cloth over the ceramic, hoping the task might ease off on the feeling. But it didn’t.
She was a free soul. She had every right to have a past. But it didn’t take the sting away. For some reason, he didn’t want her to have a past. Didn’t want her to have shared her body with another man. His jaw hurt from clenching it so hard. In these few short moments he’d rocketed from jealousy to borderline over-protectiveness. What was happening to him?
He was interested in her, yes. Physically he wanted her. More with each passing moment. Badly. But that was a need he’d have to sort out himself. He was never in one place long enough to have a girlfriend.
Not since Tania. Since then he’d not wanted another woman. Not one that he wanted around for any length of time. Money and love just didn’t co-exist. He’d learnt that the hard way. So usually he settled for a knowledgeable blonde who knew the game and was happy with the type of satisfaction releasing physical need would bring.
But now, it seemed — so empty.
To be standing here in a kitchen in bad need of repair, having had leftovers with no running water in the house made him feel more at home than anything. He was doing the dishes for God’s sake. He paid people to do that for him. It was so natural to be standing next to Clover doing this mundane task, his groin pulling painfully, and he was heady with intoxicated joy.
He willed his body not to react. But the more he thought about it, the more his body reacted. He wiped some suds off a cup. He wondered if she’d be pliant in his arms, if she’d accept him if he happened to kiss her. Responsive. Wanting him as much as he wanted her. Should he take it to that level? If his body had anything to do with it, then yes. It was definitely on.
But if his brain, his work, his lifestyle had anything to do with it, then he should stay the hell away. Leave her to her café and her muffins and her delicious cooking. He didn’t know anything about being at home. Having a home. Being a man who could stay in one place for any length of time. His lifestyle was best lived when there was no home. When you didn’t have someone you loved to come home to.
He owed her to stay away. Don’t get involved because getting involved meant being something he’d become on purpose. No matter how much it hurt his body — or touched his heart.
She bumped him with her shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his skin. She handed him a wet plate and he concentrated on wiping the soap suds from it. Doing the dishes was much safer than watching her. Doing the dishes meant he had something to do with his hands rather than running them over her hot, pliant body.
The dish dropped from his nerveless fingers and splintered over the floor. The shrill sound echoed off the walls. Shards of plate scattered over the floor.
‘Oh.’ After the shattering plate, she sounded so despondent. She bent to pick up the pieces. He held her back with an outstretched arm.
‘Don’t move. You haven’t got any shoes on. Where’s the broom?’
‘Just there. In the closet.’
He went to the cupboard she’d indicated. When he turned back she held two of the broken pieces of plate together and his heart sank. ‘Is…was…it valuable?’
She sighed and placed the pieces on the sink. ‘Not in money.’ There was more of a story there and he waited, curiosity stirred. She sighed. ‘Dad gave me this set when I finished my apprenticeship, that’s all.’
That wasn’t all. It was special to her, and that made the accident worse. He could kick himself. If he’d kept his mind on track, he wouldn’t have dropped the plate. ‘I’ll replace it.’
She glanced at him, eyes that had felt it all settled on his. He felt as though he looked into eyes of the aged. Although he’d suffered experiences through his life, he had it easier. Money just did that. But she wasn’t born with wealth behind her. There was nothing to pad the outside world and keep the bad away. She shrugged. ‘It can’t be. Don’t worry. These things happen.’
‘They do, but…I’m sorry, Clover.’
Her eyes suddenly brimmed and undid him. He leant the broom against the table and stood in front of her in an instant. He reached out, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Let his finger trace the shape of her ear and run down the length of the strand.
‘My father…gave it to me. Before he…died.’
And he had smashed it to pieces. He wanted to be alone. Thought he was strong. Thought he didn’t need anyone. And it was okay, until a dark-haired woman with sad eyes made it look what it was — incredibly lonely.
He should stand back. Put some distance between them. Safe distance.
But his fingers rested on her silken skin, so soft in that place at her neck. Traced the collar bone to the place where her pulse jumped. Tick. Tick. Tick.
He heard her quick intake of breath. But she didn’t move. Stayed where she was. Standing so close he could feel the heat from her body through his clothes.
His gaze travelled up her neck to her full lips. Rosy pink. Unvarnished. Plump and ready and soft and very kissable. Her mouth parted a little and her breath hissed out in a long even flow. His thumb traced the curve of her lower lip. Just lightly. Just grazing.
He shouldn’t be touching her like this. So seductively. Knowing where it could lead. More than possibly would lead if he couldn’t maintain control and stop touching her. It was temptation. A road that once stepped on would lead onto a one-way street.
Where he didn’t want to end up. Not with a man who couldn’t give her what she deserved. His gaze travelled to her eyes. They shone brightly. She deserved so much more than someone like him could give. He bent his head closer to hers, felt her breath caress his cheek. Temptation without a safety net.
He shouldn’t be this close to her. Should stop himself. Now, because… but… couldn’t find the will to pull away. He was completely wrong for her…but this was so right… So good. And he needed to kiss her so badly, feel her responding. Needed to know what this would feel like, because if he didn’t now he’d always wonder what it was like to be cared for. Because she did…on some level he just knew. And he was ensnared.
She tilted her head back, just a small movement, and it was all he needed to close the gap. His lips touched hers and a long sigh rippled through his body. He increased the pressure, falling into the pillowed softness of her mouth.
He slid his hand through her locks, deep into the silky strands at her nape. His palm cupped her head, while his other arm slipped around her waist. Stepped to close the gap between their bodies. Rigid chest against the cushioned softness of her breasts and he forgot what mental argument was going in his brain. It didn’t matter…whatever it was. Her hands touched his shoulders. Just lightly, a tentative touch.
He moved his lips across hers, slanted them so that he could press harder. Caressed her lips with his. Nudged them apart and slid the tip of his tongue into the honeyed heat of her mouth. He gripped her harder in his arms as he slipped his tongue deeper, suckled and tasted and lost his mind to these first stages of a kiss that should never be.
He caressed her lips, sucking them as he moved, wanting to let her feel what was riding him. The heat, the need. Her fingers firmed, the tips taking hold on his frame. He held her head in place with his hand at her nape, deepening the kiss. Heat exploded in his groin when the tip of her tongue slipped against his. Cautious at first, but as he swirled his tongue against hers, her strokes became bolder.
Her hands moved, her fingers sliding to his neck, fondling his hair at the back with such delicate touch the sigh that rode him fired up into a full-on howl. For a moment he was incapable of moving, his body devouring the touch of the fingers at the back of his neck.
He groaned into her mouth, heat consuming him. His movements became purposeful, the sweet agony of the kiss quickly igniting a slower burn. One that would be harder to put out. One that would only be extinguished when he buried himself into her essence. One that would take him further along the road he didn’t want to walk.
His slushy brain ticked, then ticked over again. There was a reason why this was bad. So bad…
Him.
Then he was doused in the freezing waters of reality and his brain slammed back to the moment. What — in hell — was he doing!
He pulled away regretting every millimetre, releasing her mouth. She stared up at him with soft, dreamy eyes and it nearly undid him to release her. His hands dropped to his side, empty and screaming to be full with her body again. But he resisted, remained still. Her hands stayed at his neck for a moment. Then she blinked and her eyes focused.
He waited until she came into the moment, and said, ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.’ His voice was rough and grating and he inwardly cringed when he saw the meaning behind his words firmed in her mind.
Her hands moved from around his neck and he was bereft, but that was life. When it sucked, it really sucked. This time wasn’t going to be any different. He knew it was a road he shouldn’t have taken and now he had to face the consequences. ‘I’d better go.’
‘But…’
He ignored the confusion on her face. The distress in her eyes. Better to seal the deal now, then later. Later would mean heartache rather than mere torment.
‘Clover. I’m only going to be in town for a few weeks. Then I’m going. Wherever the next Upper Crust is going to be built. You belong here. You need…deserve…someone to hang around…and I can’t provide that. I’m going to ring for a taxi and then I’m going to leave.’ He reached, hooked his finger with gentle care beneath her chin, just to touch her one last time. The memory would have to last a lifetime. ‘I wish…things were different. But…they’re not.’
Moments passed. ‘I…’ Then she thought better of speaking, instead wrapping her arms around her waist. She glanced at the wall phone. ‘It’s over there.’ She busied herself at the sink while he made the call. Time had never been so excruciatingly slow. His body prickled with awareness of her so close and untouchable. He’d made the line in the sand. And she had agreed.
He finished the call and hung up. He put a false smile on his face, knowing all the time she’d pick it. ‘Let’s just put this down to too much wine.’
She glanced at him, folding the wet tea-towel over the side of the sink. ‘Rather than a mistake that shouldn’t have happened?’
‘I’m only trying to save you.’
‘Well. I’m a big girl, Liam. I can save myself. I’ve been doing it for years.’
The smile tightened on his mouth. He gave a curt nod, heading down the hallway. He said his good-byes to Gloria and let himself out of the door. The frigid air closed around him. He’d wait on the main street for the taxi. As he sat on the bench outside Upper Crust, breath condensing in the air, he wondered who, in fact, he was actually trying to save.