Three

Tiffany knew the man in the corner was Mat as soon as she looked at him. In her mind, his smile matched his laugh.

Yet, she double-checked and stole a quick look around just to be certain, but she wasn’t able to find another single man occupying a table. Her gaze fell back on Mat, who stood as she slowly walked towards him. There was an awkward silence in the air, briefly broken by the noise from the kitchen.

“Tiffany?”

She nodded, unable to speak, a thousand words running through her head, none of them making it to her vocal cords, though. And although her mind was still occupied by the saga with the police, during the occasional moments she’d thought about Mat she’d envisioned him to be the complete opposite. Looking at him, she knew he was trouble.

Good trouble.

Sexy trouble.

And thank goodness, he was from New Zealand, and most likely to return home soon, because she didn’t need trouble. Whether it was good or sexy. But damn, he had a body to die for. His black hair was cut short, his brown almond eyes alive with interest as he held her gaze.

They sat in silence, Tiffany still a bit overwhelmed by the situation. And Mat’s looks.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked at long last.

She nodded and was glad to get a “Cola please” over her lips.

There was a thin scar visible in his hairline, and she wondered what’d happened. When Mat lifted his arm to get the waiter’s attention, she noticed a tattoo on his arm, which disappeared under his shirt, but she assumed it was a Maori tattoo, which usually spread across the shoulder as well. His eyes and bronze skin told her he was probably of Maori origin.

He ordered their drinks and met her gaze again with a smile. It took her a lot of effort not to shiver with lust.

“It’s nice meeting you,” he said and smiled, revealing two small dimples in his cheek.

She let out a little laugh. “I still can’t believe I’m here.”

A broad grin crossed his face, and he winked at her. “I’m glad you came.”

Tiffany exhaled a shaky breath. “Okay, tell me a bit about you.”

Mat snorted. “No way. You’ll run away.”

“That bad?” she asked with a smile.

“Worse.”

“I can’t believe that.”

Warmth spread across his face. “What would you like to know?”

She thought about it. Not wanting to sound too eager, she asked, “Tell me about your tattoo. And your necklace—I like it.”

Cocking a brow, he moved his shirt up a little. “My tattoo?”

“I didn’t want to sound like a mother and ask for your life’s history.”

He shook his head as he laughed. “Technically, it’s a ta moko. It’s part of my Maori background. It used to be a tribal thing.”

“Is the necklace a tribal thing as well?”

“Don’t know much about your neighbours across the sea, do you?”

She gave a little shrug. “Never had a need to.”

“The pounamu toki is a symbol of strength and courage.”

Tiffany reached out and carefully held it with her thumb and finger. “I love it. It’s beautiful.” She met his gaze. “You’re proud of your heritage, aren’t you?”

He choked back a chuckle. “What makes you say that?”

“Not sure, but I get a feeling you’re not wearing it for show. It means something to you.”

“It’s what I am. I’m proud of what I am.” Mat took her hand in his. “Tell me what upset you this morning.”

The waiter brought their drinks, and she slowly removed her hand from his.

“How about we order dinner, ay?” he suggested.

They both ordered a pizza, hers a Hawaiian, Mat chose an Aussie classic, and for a moment their conversation shifted to Steve and how each of them knew him. Mat told her a mirror story of Steve’s about their years in Sydney.

“I went to Sydney a few years back, but it was way too hectic for me,” she told him with a sigh.

“It’s a great place, but it’s not NZ,” he replied.

“Steve told me your dad used to play rugby.”

He nodded. “He was an All Black.”

“Why didn’t you follow in his footsteps?”

Raising a brow, he leaned back to let the waiter place their meals on the table before he replied, “Everyone expected me to be like my dad. I wanted to be me.”

Tiffany took a piece of her pizza, pondering his statement. And liked it. For so long she’d competed with her successful brother, resulting in giving up and leaving school early. It had only been the last few years that she’d realised what she was, all she had become, was because of her own doings, and it wasn’t about competing, but becoming the best at her abilities. That was when she’d started the business management night classes.

“And what is it you do?” she asked.

“I’m a helicopter pilot.”

“Damn,” she exclaimed. “That’s not even close to rugby.”

He laughed as he lifted his glass to take a sip of his drink. “What about you?”

“My life’s boring. Not much to tell.”

He chuckled. “Boring? I have a feeling it’s quite the opposite. Come on. Let me be the judge of it. I know nothing about you except that you’re Steve’s friend, close friend. How do you know him?”

“He’s Liam’s best friend.”

He raised his brows enquiringly. “You know Liam?”

“Liam’s my brother. How do you know him?”

A frown appeared on his face. “How well do you know your brother? He came over for a visit with Steve a few years back.”

“I vaguely remember him travelling to Auckland while I was away.”

“Vaguely?”

“I spent three years travelling around Australia. As much as Mum and Dad tried to keep me up-to-date, they were vague on details.”

He nodded. “Three years on the road. Sounds like a great adventure. My brother had the same intentions at some stage, but life took over.”

“You have a brother? Younger or older?”

A grin stretched across his face. “Nice try. Back to your life.”

“Sorry.” She paused and blew out a breath. “It’s an odd story. A bit complicated as well. And doesn’t leave me in a good light, I suppose.”

Lifting his knife, he joked, “Killed someone?”

She looked past him towards the window to avoid his gaze. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him placing his knife next to his plate before he rested his elbows on the table.

“The trouble this morning?”

Nodding, she bit her lower lip, worried he’d judge her. She wasn’t ready, yet, to not see him again. She studied his face, almost drowning in his eyes. He seemed so perfect in so many ways. Hudson had seemed so perfect, too.

And it scared her somewhat.

 

****

 

From the moment Tiffany had walked into the restaurant, Mat had an inkling that she wasn’t gay or a bitch for that matter. Not only did she look gorgeous in her plain tight jeans, a simple white T-shirt, and her kick-arse short haircut, but also her smile was genuine and bright, her blue eyes radiated peace and happiness — except when he’d asked whether she’d killed someone. Not for a second did he believe, though, that she’d killed someone. Her demeanour said differently. Tilting his head, he watched her avoiding his stare, biting her lips as she ran her fingers through her short hair, undoubtedly messing it up.

“Bad?”

Their eyes met again. “No. Not bad. A person I knew was killed and the circumstances…well, less than pleasant.”

“Accident?”

She snorted. “I’d say.”

“In a selfish way, I’m glad I’ve been able to put a little smile on your beautiful face.”

It didn’t get past him that her cheeks flushed a little, and he bit back a grin at his achievement.

“We both have brothers. We both have Steve as a great friend. We both like rugby…”

She laughed. “I know next to nothing about rugby. I know the All Blacks are from New Zealand, and they won the world cup.”

“Okay, fair enough. But you like sports.”

“More watching than being active. I like the occasional swim.”

“Lucky me. At the end of the dinner, I might be able to convince you to take me to a beautiful beach for a swim.”

Now her laugh was half a snort. “Without a doubt, All Black persistence.”

“Job?”

“Yes and no.”

He cocked a brow.

“I’m studying for my Diploma in Business Management. And some nights I work at the pub to get some extra cash.”

Taking a sip from his drink, he eyed her over the rim. “Business management,” he said, setting his glass on the table. “Impressive.”

“Not even close to as impressive as being a helicopter pilot,” she said, yet not looking at him.

Mat became more and more intrigued by her. Her shy nature, the self-doubt that shone through when talking about herself, and the hesitation to tell him more about the person she was.

“Born in Melbourne?”

“Yes, born and raised in Melbourne. You?”

“Born in Queenstown, lived in Auckland most of my life, and moving to Queenstown soon.”

“North or south island?”

“Auckland is north, Queenstown is south.”

“New Zealand must be beautiful. I’ve never been there.”

Mat grinned, knowing too well, she’d changed the subject away from her again. But he didn’t push it any further and started telling her about New Zealand, a subject close to his heart he could’ve talked about for days. He enjoyed her company, her interest in most things, and the way she soaked up each of his words.

A couple of hours later, Tiffany checked her phone, and said, “I’m really sorry, but it’s time for me to go, but I will see you at Steve’s barbeque tomorrow, right?”

Mat nodded. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

They stood, and he went to pay for the dinner before he joined Tiffany outside.

“Can I walk you to your car?”

With a soft laugh, she said, “It’s right there,” pointing at a red little car about twenty metres up the road. He groaned inwardly, knowing his time with her was about to be over. Placing his hand on the small of her back, they started walking the few metres in silence. Once they got to the car, Tiffany dug in her bag for the keys and pushed the remote to unlock it.

“Thanks for a nice evening,” she said just above a whisper. “It was just what I needed after a shitty day.”

It took all his courage, but he leaned in and gently touched her lips with his. Her soft breath touched his skin and teased his sanity. The taste of cola still lingered on her lips, and he was tempted to kiss her with all he had and all he felt at that moment. An undercurrent of attraction made him aware of how much he’d enjoyed their time together and how much he disliked letting her go already. He leaned back to meet her gaze and, although pleased, it surprised him she didn’t move back or slap his cheek. Unsure about her expression, he was confident, though, that there was no anger, but a hesitant smile, that made him want to kiss her again.

“Can’t wait to see you again tomorrow.”

Her cheeks turned a soft shade of red.

“Will you be all right?” he asked.

Her eyes widened. “Because I’ve been kissed by a stranger?”

Not able to hold back, he burst into a bark of laughter. “I’m good, but even I know a touch of my lips is nothing that moves the earth.” He paused, watching her expression. “I meant in regard to what happened this morning.”

The long sigh she emitted almost told the whole story, and he wished instead of bringing it up he had kissed her again.

“Someone died under suspicious circumstances, and the police came to see me this morning. I freaked out.”

She held his stare, most likely wanting to see his reaction. And in all fairness, it wasn’t at all what he’d expected. Possibly — but then again, he didn’t know what he’d expected either, yet the mention of the word police threw him a bit.

“You’re not a suspect, are you?” he asked with a little jest in his voice not believing that was the case.

Her gaze went past him as she shook her head. He cupped her chin with both hands, tilting her head towards him to see her eyes. Sadness had taken over, and he could’ve kicked himself for his curiosity.

He drew a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“No. Don’t be. You did nothing wrong.” With a slight lift of her shoulder, she added, “We dated for a very brief time before it ended. His name kind of left a sour taste in my mouth, so I’m still torn between not caring and feeling sorry for him.”

Mat pulled out his wallet from the back pocket of his pants and retrieved one of his business cards.

“My number’s on here. Promise me you’ll call me if you need to talk.”

Tiffany’s lips parted as she reached for the card, but she didn’t say anything. Her hesitation was obvious when she paused before taking it. “I’m fine,” she replied with a slight smile.

“Promise me,” he insisted.

“Yes, Dad,” she mocked. “I promise I will call you if for any reason I will need to talk to someone.”

“’Atta girl.”

“But first let me win the lotto, because this would be an overseas call.”

A frown creased his forehead. “Shit! Never even thought about that.”

She let out a soft laugh, but remained silent.

“Call through, and I will return the call,” he suggested.

“I will, but honestly, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

With no more words, she slid behind the steering wheel, and he closed the door. She started the engine and drove off, leaving him staring after her until she was completely out of sight. A few seconds later, he headed the opposite direction and started to walk back to Steve’s house.

Slowly, and with a constant smile on his face.

He had another three days in Melbourne and hoped to see as much as possible of Tiffany during that time.

And a phone call later that night. That’d be the icing on the cake.

The lights in the house told Mat Steve was still awake. He unlocked the front door and followed the voices to the lounge room. Steve and Jessica were watching television. Mat experienced a moment of awkwardness as he entered his friend’s house after spending the last three hours with Tiffany. The solitude of his own house would’ve been much preferred.

He looked around the room, noticing the female touch to the decor. A few more framed photos sat on the fireplace mantel, a few more cushions on the lounge, the curtains seemed to have more frill than before, the carpet was new, and there were certainly more books on the shelf.

“How are you?” he asked, as he sat on the single seater next to Steve. It didn’t get past him that his friend sported a big grin. But then again, he probably did, too.

“How was dinner?” Jessica asked. “I’m sorry you had to go out.”

He shook his head. “Nah. I went to the pizzeria down the street.”

“Alone?” Steve asked, as he grabbed his beer from the table.

With a chuckle, he replied, “Tiffany.”

Jessica’s eyes widened. “Tiffany Cahill? You know her?”

“She called here this morning. Very persistently if I may say, so I answered.”

She gave Steve a quick look, and Mat wasn’t sure what to make of it. But he continued. “She seemed upset. We got to talking. So when I returned from my meeting this afternoon, I wanted to check whether she was okay. One thing led to another with us ending up meeting at the pizza place.”

Jessica turned to Steve again. “What was wrong?”

“The police stopped by this morning. Hudson is dead. They had a few questions.”

“Who’s Hudson?” Mat asked.

“A guy she knew. Didn’t end well.”

“The one who died under suspicious circumstances?”

Steve’s eyebrow raised a notch. “She told you?”

Mat shook his head. “Not in detail. It’s easier to intimidate someone with the Haka than getting information out of Tiffany.”

Jessica snorted, and Steve replied, “She had a rough time.”

Again, Mat wasn’t sure what to make of Jessica’s gesture. Jealousy? Didn’t she like her? Was there more to the story than Steve let on? But why wouldn’t his friend tell him?

“But you can’t tell me about it?”

He took a sip of his beer before he replied, ‘‘It’s not for me to tell you.”

Mat understood and respected his friend’s reasoning. With a nod, he stood and headed to the kitchen where he snagged a cold drink from the fridge. He twisted the top off the bottle and took a swig. The beer sent a cool rush through his stomach and a shiver down his spine. He thought of Tiffany. How could he not? She was constantly on his mind, her little smile, or her curiosity and interest in so many things. Like his Maori background or what it was like to fly, to be in the air. Two subjects he loved and was able to talk about all the time. Usually, girls cared more about his business and the finances than his love for his job.

Jessica came into the kitchen and placed her cup in the sink. “Good night, Mat. Hope your meeting with the tourist people was successful.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “It was, thank you. It’s more or less a done deal.”

“That’s good. Congratulations. I suppose that means you’re moving to Queenstown now?”

He nodded. “Yes, that’s the plan.”

She picked up the cup again and gave it a rinse. After she’d placed her cup in the sink again, she turned her head and met his gaze. “Tiffany is Steve’s good friend, and I trust his judgement.” The click-clack of her shoes echoed through the kitchen as she walked to the door with slow steps. She reached the door and placed her hand on the doorjamb, staying like that for several moments as though pondering whether or not to say anything. “I still remember seeing Tiff all beaten up in hospital. It’s not something I’ll forget any time soon. So, whenever she comes to Steve with a problem, I worry. Most likely for nothing, yet, I still do.” She let out a long sigh and left.

Mat lifted the beer to his lips, but suddenly the taste and urge was gone, so he tipped it out, called a goodnight down the hall, and headed to his room.

There was so much more about Tiffany he didn’t know.

In fact, he hardly knew her at all, and yet, she was all he could think about. He considered giving Adam another call, but in the end, he threw off his shoes before lying on the bed. With his legs crossed at the ankle and his hands behind his head, he daydreamt for a while, thinking about his new house in Queenstown. He’d bought the place a few weeks earlier, knowing he wanted it the minute he’d stepped inside. There were a few renovations needed, but he was happy to get that organised or do it himself. The house had a European ski chalet look to it with five rooms, but the flat terrace overlooking the lake and the mountains was all he’d needed to see to make an offer. There was a massive shed and a nice garage as well, ideal for all his gear.

And as he envisioned what kind of renovations he had in mind, he imagined Tiffany sitting outside on the terrace with a can of cola in her hand.

He sat up, rubbing his hands over his face, stunned by how much she occupied his mind. Unable to forget the simple touch of her lips on his.

He leaned back into the pillow again, aware of that constant grin on his face.