She quashed the warmth that spun low in her belly and joined him at the table, pushing the plate of toast to the centre. ‘You must have left eggs off your shopping list.’
‘Toast’s fine.’ He reached for a slice, bit in with a crunch.
‘You planning on going sailing while you’re here?’ she said, eyeing his reading material.
He didn’t look up. ‘Could be I’m planning on purchasing one.’
‘But aren’t you … in the navy?’
‘Not any more.’ He glanced up a moment, his eyes focused on middle distance. ‘What do you reckon—sailing solo down the coast, stopping anywhere that takes your fancy. No timetables, no schedules, no demands. Just you, drifting with the tides.’
‘Sounds …’ lonely ‘… magic. Is that what you’re planning?’
‘Could be.’ He popped the rest of his toast in his mouth.
‘You’ve given up navy life, then?’
‘Reckon so.’ He folded a corner of a page to mark it, then flipped the brochure shut, picked up his mug and leaned back. ‘I’ll ring a plumber this morning. And an electrician. Do you use anyone in particular?’
Obviously he didn’t want to discuss the navy or his reasons for leaving. ‘Up till now, I’ve not needed anyone.’ She nibbled the edge of her toast. ‘Jared would know someone, but he’s away.’
At the mention of her brother’s name, Blake’s demeanour brightened. ‘So what’s Jared doing these days?’
‘He has his own refurbishing business in Surfers. He’s on holiday overseas at the moment, with his family. They’ve been gone nearly two months.’
‘Jared’s married now?’
‘Yes. He and Sophie have a three-year-old son. Isaac.’
‘Good for him.’
His lips curved in one of those rare smiles she hadn’t had the pleasure of looking at in ten years and her pulse skipped a few beats. At this rate she was going to need to see a cardiologist.
‘You see them often?’ he asked.
She refreshed her coffee, then nodded. ‘Every couple of weeks and that’s not counting birthdays and celebrations. I drive down to Surfers, though. A houseboat’s no place for kids, it’s too cramped and too dangerous and Crystal has two now.’ She didn’t tell him that after she’d walked away from her home, Jared made a point of not coming to Mooloolaba to see her unless specifically invited.
He regarded her a moment while he blew on his tea. ‘When’s he due back?’
‘A couple of weeks.’
‘I’ll need his phone number. I’d like to catch up after all this time and I need to contact him about the boat.’
The boat. The way he said it. As if he’d retaken ownership already. ‘No.’ Her fingers tightened around her mug. ‘You can’t tell Jared about the boat.’
His brows rose. ‘Why not? You pay rent.’ He studied her coolly through those assessing blue eyes. ‘Don’t you?’
‘Of course.’ Except she’d missed last month’s payment. She’d assured Jared she’d have it by the end of the week. Stalling. Hoping another job would come up.
He’d be furious she’d not called him about the leak earlier but she’d been anxious to show him she was capable of organising things like repairs herself. And worse, Blake was going to tell him the boat was his, she just knew it. She had no idea who stood where legally but she couldn’t let Blake take it from her. Wherever would she be then?
‘Lissa.’
He brought her attention back to him, set his mug on the table. He met her eyes and she felt herself start to quiver. The soft way he’d just said her name. Oh, he made her weak. He’d always made her weak.
More like weak and stupid.
‘What?’ she demanded, knowing he wasn’t going to say something she wanted to hear and determined not to fall for his husky low voice. His husky, low, cajoling voice.
‘Forget about the boat and Jared for a moment. Tell me about you. Your place of employment, for instance.’ The last words were silver-edged sharp as his gaze held hers.
She shrank back from the almost physical touch. Uh-oh, not cajoling, but worse. Much worse … ‘I already told you. I’m an interior designer.’
‘But you don’t have a job at present, do you?’
Her stomach muscles clenched. She wanted to look away. Sweet heaven, she wanted to look away. Away from the man who’d starred in so many dreams for so many years. But these weren’t the lover’s eyes she remembered from those dreams. They were the eyes of a teacher demanding to see her homework and knowing she hadn’t done it. No point denying it.
She placed her palms firmly on the table. ‘Look, I’m having a few problems right now. Not that it’s any of your business.’
‘Make it my business, then,’ he said, un-offended. ‘I might be able to help.’
Help? Of all the people in the world, she didn’t want Blake’s help. She wanted him to go away and not ask difficult and embarrassing questions. But that wasn’t going to happen. She smiled tightly. ‘You know of a short-staffed interior design business round these parts?’
‘Is that what you really want?’
Did he think her lazy? She’d been accused of burning the candle at both ends in the past and drew herself up straighter. ‘Absolutely it is. I studied hard, have my diploma to show for it and I don’t want to do anything else.’
He watched his mug as he twirled it on the table between them, then looked at her once more. ‘So are you after employment or are you looking to branch out on your own?’
She took a deep, resigned breath. In a way it was a relief to talk to someone about it and he wasn’t going to be around for long. He was nothing to her, she told herself. Nothing.
‘Okay.’ She studied her hands on the table to avoid looking at him. ‘I haven’t been able to get employment in any of the interior design shops here since the business I worked for went bust. So I have a low-paying part-time cleaning job, which doesn’t allow for me to save anything like the money I’d need to start my own business.’
‘Jared can’t loan you the money?’
‘I don’t want Jared’s help. Jared and I … we had a disagreement of sorts. I moved up here because I needed some space.’
‘Space?’
‘Space. Independence.’ She lifted a shoulder. ‘After I qualified, I worked at a design shop in Surfers for two years but I know I can do better than work for someone else. Jared told me not to rush it. We argued. I left. He didn’t take it well.’
Blake studied her a moment; the intensity was unnerving. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
She heard genuine regret in his voice and tried to shrug it off. ‘We still get on okay.’ Mostly. Except now she realised Jared was right. She’d been in too much of a damn hurry. ‘So I want to maybe freelance for a bit,’ she continued, ‘but people round here don’t want to take a chance on a nobody.’
‘You’re not a nobody unless you think that way. Trust me, I know.’
Trust