‘Still here. Kids, eh?’
‘Yeah. Who’d have ‘em?’
But Blake heard an exuberance of love in his mate’s voice. ‘I bet he’s a firecracker.’
‘You got that right.’ There was a hesitation through the phone, then Jared’s voice turned serious. ‘Before I speak to Lissa, I’ve been talking to Soph and we’re wondering if we should cut short our trip and come home.’
And wouldn’t that throw everything into a spin?
No mention of the business, Blake noted, and cleared his throat. Damn it. Lissa obviously hadn’t contacted him herself yet. ‘She hasn’t called?’
‘No. And her phone’s been switched off for hours.’
‘We were at a party till late—’
‘You and Liss …?’
He heard the surprise in his old mate’s voice. ‘Yeah.’ Moving right along. ‘She’s next door at the moment, doing up a quote for a nursery. I’ll get her to call you when she comes back.’
‘So she’s getting some work. That’s one good thing I suppose. How’s she taking the boat disaster, do you think?’
‘She’s doing okay. Still a little shocked but—’
‘Not enough to prevent her from partying obviously.’
‘It was a charity thing,’ Blake felt obliged to point out in her defence.
‘She wants to start her own business. It concerns me a lot. I don’t think she’s ready for it. Has she mentioned anything about that to you? I guess she’s got enough to think about right now.’
Blake paced the carpet, feeling as if he were sinking further into quicksand with every step he took. Yet here was an opportunity to get them talking. ‘I’ll let her tell you about it.’
‘I was hoping to hear your opinion.’
Blake really didn’t want to get into anything serious here after doing the wild thing with her all night. ‘Better coming from her, mate,’ he said, scrubbing a hand down his face. ‘She’ll call as soon as she gets in.’
‘Blake … we were buddies a long while. Is there something I should know here?’
Hell. His grip tightened on the phone. He couldn’t talk about their business arrangement because he’d given his word to Lissa, even though he knew that wasn’t what his mate was asking. ‘She’s an adult, Jared. She makes her own decisions.’
Silence. ‘What the hell’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Like I said, she’ll tell you herself.’
‘So there is something going on.’
‘At ease, mate, nothing to be alarmed about.’
‘She’s my sister. I don’t want to see her hurt.’ There was an edge to his voice that could slice through steel.
‘Nor do I.’
‘Tell her to call me via webcam. I want to see how she’s taking this—and whatever else—for myself.’
‘No worries. The moment she’s back.’
Jared disconnected without another word.
Blake stared at the dead phone. ‘That went well,’ he muttered, and headed back to the bathroom to take his shower.
He thought about Jared’s concern as he put his room back into some kind of order. Despite her pride in her independence, Lissa was a family girl at heart. She’d probably tire of her party ways eventually and settle down. Marry an easy-going Mr Joe-Average Nice-Guy with no emotional baggage and have two stunning kids, a boisterous dog and a comfortable four-bedroom home overlooking the beach.
Not for him. It was time to look at purchasing his own boat. Time to get moving, explore all the dives along the coast. Use the stars as his compass and live the dream before it was too late. Wasn’t that what it was all about?
He collected Lissa’s ribbons and hairpins and took them down the hall, but stopped in her bedroom doorway. Was there a bed somewhere beneath those shopping bags? How did someone who’d just lost everything manage to accumulate such a chaos in a single day?
The en-suite fared no better. Lotions of every description and bottles with tops off littered the vanity. A wet towel trailed from the basin. He left her ribbons beside her hairbrush and screwed the lid back on the toothpaste. Another reason they’d never work out. He liked his life ordered. He liked his space clear. She’d drive him crazy.
What they had was just temporary, he assured himself again as he walked away. A fling. She’d drive someone else crazy some day.
SHE’D drive someone else crazy some day.
Blake needed something else to take his mind off the persistent and distracting thought rattling around in his head. Problem was, his day’s routine was shot. He’d not had his morning run—he’d been ‘otherwise occupied’. And now the afternoon was slipping away and Lissa was still busy with Gilda. Probably catching up on last night’s success. He needed a diversion.
Food. He’d cook something for dinner. How long since he’d enjoyed a good home-cooked meal? He checked the pantry supplies, began compiling a list, then stopped. He had no idea what Lissa liked. Still, who’d not enjoy a good old-fashioned Aussie lamb roast? It could cook while he … what?
Waited for Lissa to come home?
The scene played before his eyes:
He’s just put the finishing touches on a complicated dish that took all afternoon to prepare. The leafy salad with a new mustard/pepper dressing is chilling in the fridge along with a bottle of chardonnay. He’s thinking cheese for afters, with a little quince pâté, some grapes … then a leisurely bubble bath and an early night …
Lissa rushes through the door, her blouse askew, her hair dishevelled from driving the convertible with the top down. Dinner meeting—sorry, did she forget to tell him? She fishes a couple of cherry tomatoes from the salad bowl in the fridge then a peck on his cheek on her way past. Don’t wait up, it’s going to be a long one—some after-dinner function to attend and, oh, would he mind collecting her dry cleaning before the shop closes?
Blake stumbled back a step, scowling. What the hell had happened to that bubble bath? What—
‘I’m back,’ Lissa sang out as she danced into the kitchen, her face glowing, her hair flying behind her. ‘Oh, you should see how the nursery’s coming along.’ She did a quick twirl. ‘It’s going to be stunning. And she loves the colours. And Gilda’s offered to make it a glittering affair with all her rich friends and Stefan’s going to take pictures for the PowerPoint presentation at the launch and everyone will see it. and. Hi.’ She exhaled hugely on the final word and smiled like sunshine.
Blake blinked, feeling as if he’d just been flattened by a runaway lawnmower. ‘Hi.’ He screwed up his shopping list, tossed it on the sink. She was wearing a lettuce-green sundress with cherries on and tomato sauce spaghetti straps. Damn the roast, he wanted to take her on the nearest available surface and feed on her instead.
But the domestic role-reversal scene continued to shimmer dangerously before his eyes. Damned if she was going to leave him home alone all night while she got up to … whatever.