A Man Like Mike (17 page)

It was a long moment before his question registered. “Oh, sure,” she said, waiting while he disappeared into his bedroom. He returned with an armful of multi-coloured cotton that he tossed into the machine. The act brought him so close to Eve that she virtually jumped backward, finding herself pressed against the wall of the laundry.

Mike turned and studied her face. Eve was sure she must look like a rabbit caught in a spotlight’s glare. She supposed that made Mike the fox in this metaphor. By the hungry look in his eyes she had the sense that he wanted nothing more than to devour her on the spot.

She could do nothing but stare back at him, feeling trapped. She could hardly draw air into her lungs, and the atmosphere in the ordinarily frigid laundry room felt hot and stuffy. She pulled her gaze away from his, feeling hypnotised. Instead of easing the knot of tension in her stomach, the action only made it intensify when she saw the way Mike’s chest was rising and falling rapidly beneath his sweat shirt.

He needed to take only one step and he was before her. He reached up a hand to touch her face, the contact sending off explosions inside her.

She couldn’t do this. She just couldn’t deal with the sensations. “Mike, we can’t go on like this.” Her voice was as frayed as her emotions.

She would have to move out. There was no alternative. Being this close to Mike every day while they were so far apart in every other way was pure torture.

But she realised Mike did not interpret her statement the way it was intended when a low sound came from his throat and he moved his hand to her nape, coaxing her forward. “I couldn’t agree more,” he rasped, before his mouth came down on hers.

The moment his lips touched hers all thought of resistance fled Eve’s mind. She sank into him, her arms sliding around his waist as she clung to him and returned the fervour of his kiss with a healthy dose of her own. He gorged on her mouth, tasting with his tongue and nibbling with his teeth, gently, but with a barely restrained passion that set a fire inside her. His hands tangled in her hair until, with unqualified impatience, he tugged at the band that held her mane back and tossed it aside so he could run his fingers through it.

Eve was as impatient as he. Barely registering her uncharacteristic boldness, she tugged Mike’s sweatshirt up until she could slide her hands inside it, touching smooth, hot skin.

Mike dragged his mouth away from hers, breathless. He stared at her, his eyes flaring, as she trailed her palms over his back, revelling in the rigid strength of muscle. She wanted to find the words to tell him something of how she felt, to ask for what she wanted, yet assure him she would demand no grand promises. She wouldn’t hold him back, wouldn’t tie down a man who didn’t want to be tied down. But she could simply not continue living without knowing the feeling of being loved by Mike, in whatever small way she could be.

“Mike, I think… I want…”

“Shh,” he whispered against her lips, before kissing her again until she lost what little presence of mind she had left. He nipped at her lower lip in a tender way that had her gasping. “Don’t be frightened, Evie.” He looked deep into her eyes, compelling her to listen. “You can trust me.”

In that moment she knew it was true. He would never intentionally hurt her. She could trust Mike.

Beyond words, Eve merely nodded to convey her understanding, her consent. It was all the encouragement Mike needed, and he swung her into his arms without further preamble, carrying her to his room.

“I wish I could stay.”

It was late Sunday morning, and Eve had just put Bailey in his high chair, placing a virtual smorgasbord of cheese slices, kiwi fruit and biscuits on his tray. At Mike’s heartfelt declaration, she turned and drank in the sight of him standing there all freshly showered and shaved, his expression full of regret.

When would she be able to stop looking at him as though she were a starving woman and he a chocolate fudge sundae? She found herself mentally agreeing with him, wishing he hadn’t promised to work Sunday lunch as well as dinner at the
Marlin
. To him she said, “You said Barry needed help.”

“Hell of a time for a big family reunion to book in for lunch,” he groused. “Any other Sunday I’d be spending with you.”

They both knew what they’d be doing with their time, too. After they’d made such thorough use of Bailey’s early afternoon nap time yesterday, Eve had no doubt that if Mike didn’t have to leave they would spend their time in a similar fashion today.

The thought heated her from the inside out, despite her many qualms about allowing things to continue along this path. But her qualms hadn’t meant a thing last night, when she had drowsily awoken sometime around midnight to find Mike stretched out in bed behind her as she lay on her side, his arm twined possessively around her waist.

When she’d stirred, he’d said by way of explanation, “It’s cold downstairs.”

“There are spare blankets in the linen cupboard,” Eve had said dryly.

“I like your blankets because they have you in them. I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep, if you want.”

Like there had been a chance of that happening. Eve’s heart rate had already picked up, as though she had downed a double espresso, her senses stimulated to wakefulness. She admitted, “It’s too late for that.”

“Yeah?” His lips had moved to her ear, his breath teasing the tender shell. He had pulled her back against him, his hand moving to close over her breast through the lace of her nightie. “You know, this nightgown of yours drives me crazy. I don’t think you should wear it any more.” To prove his point, he’d proceeded to divest her of the garment with skilful hands.

After that, neither of them had got much sleep.

“Evie, are you listening to me?”

Startled out of her daydream, Eve blinked as Mike approached, his frown showing concern. “I’m sorry … what were you saying?”

“I was telling you this reunion is going to run over until tomorrow, and Barry’s going to need me again. I didn’t tell you last week because…” He left that comment with a shrug. They both knew they had barely spoken to each other last week. “I went ahead and booked the day at the childcare centre for Bailey. I’ll take him if you can bring him home after work.”

“Of course. I’ll take him there in the morning, too. The centre’s right on my way. It doesn’t make sense for you to make a special trip.”

He smiled his slow, genuine smile and reached out to pull her into his arms. Eve went without protest. She knew better than to fight her body when it came to Mike. “Did I mention what a fantastic woman you are, Eve O’Brien?”

“I think you mentioned it yesterday,” Eve said, flushing. The things he’d whispered in her ear while they’d been in bed still hummed through her mind, intoxicating her senses.

“I think it bears repeating,” he said. “In fact, I wish we could repeat the whole of yesterday, starting from when—”

“Yes, I think I know which parts you’re interested in repeating, Mike,” she chided. “But you have to go to work.”

“Another five minutes won’t hurt.” The intent in his eyes was clear as he lowered his head and kissed her so exhaustively Eve could barely stand by the time he dragged his lips away again.

He rested his forehead against hers, his ragged breathing filling the space between them. Eve wasn’t sure she was breathing at all, and she clung to his shoulders as though she might collapse if she didn’t.

At length he declared ardently, “I won’t be able to stop thinking about you all day.” There was a heartbeat’s pause. He seemed almost unsure of himself in a wholly endearing way. “Will you be thinking about me?”

Every waking minute. And when I sleep, my dreams will be full of you
. The truth clogged her throat, and in reply Eve nodded.

Drawing back, he looked down at her, his eyes searching. He brushed the hair back from her face where it had fallen after he’d tangled it in his hands. “Are you okay with this, Eve? With us?”

It wasn’t the time to have the there’s-no-us discussion, although she knew the truth as sure as she knew her own track record. There was Eve, and there was Mike, and one day they would be separate again because that was how things had always been.

Everyone left her. Her father had left without ever meeting her, her mother had abandoned her time and again, denying her the love and security she’d so desperately needed. Even Jacinta, though it was through no fault of her own, had left her eventually.

There was no doubt in Eve’s mind that Mike would be next. She needed to hold onto everything that made her who she was, because when Mike was gone she would be all that was left. If she let these feelings she had for him eclipse her, when he left she’d be nothing more than a hollow shell.

I never knew I could feel like this. I never really understood the term ‘making love’ before. God help me, I love you Mike Wilcox
.

Hiding her true feelings her entire life had made Eve skilful at evasion. She smiled a half smile. “I think you know the answer to that.”

He didn’t appear sidetracked by her reference to the physical satisfaction they had found together, but he didn’t pursue the subject, saying only, “You do know that I … I care about you, don’t you, Evie?”

She smiled reassuringly, smoothing the furrow from his brow with her thumb. No matter what happened, she did know that Mike would rather cut off his hand than hurt her on purpose. She would always love him for that.

“I know,” she told him. “Now scoot. I do not want to be responsible for you being late. Barry might come after me.”

“Over my dead body,” he said with feeling. Mike had to be one of the few men who could say something like that in reference to Barry McClusky and mean it.

He sighed weightily. “All right. I’ll go.” He headed for the door, chucking Bailey on the chin on the way past. His nephew gave him a grin that was all teeth and half-chewed kiwi fruit.

At the door he promised Eve, “I’ll see
you
later tonight.”

“Yes, you’d better. I couldn’t find those spare blankets, after all.”

He grinned wolfishly before heading out the door, saying with a purely male satisfaction, “How lucky for me.”

“Kitchen’s closed people—no more orders!”

“Hallelujah,” Mike muttered at Barry’s long-awaited announcement. It had just gone ten pm. Since he’d started at eleven that morning and had hardly stopped since, the end of the day couldn’t come soon enough for Mike.

Yet he knew it wasn’t just plain old physical exhaustion that had him eager to head straight home.

It was Eve.

His fatigue dissipated like smoke off the grill. His body rumbled with hungry anticipation at the thought she might be waiting up for him. That kiss they’d shared this morning, on top of her parting comments about the lack of blankets downstairs, made him think he would be welcomed just as warmly in her bed tonight as he had been last night.

“After the day we’ve had, I think we both deserve a beer.”

Mike turned to see Barry holding out an opened bottle of brew. “All right, but just one. I have to get home.” He took the bottle and downed a throat-wetting swallow.

The sound of Barry’s laughter stopped the bottle on its ascent to his mouth a second time. “What’s funny?”

“I finally get why you’ve been so damn chipper all day,” Barry said, grinning. “You and the redhead have…” he turned to the apprentice, who happened to be walking past them at the time. “How is it you almost-twenty-somethings say it, Ross, when you and a lady get to know each other in the biblical sense?”

Mike put the brakes on whatever it was the apprentice opened his mouth to say. Fast. “Don’t even think about saying what you’re about to,” he said, more sternly than he had ever spoken to the younger man. The look on his face made Ross throw up his hands and take several steps back. He returned wordlessly to cleaning the food prep area.

To Barry, Mike said, his voice low and dangerous, “Eve is not bawdy kitchen conversation. You’re not so big I can’t sock you in the jaw, McClusky.”

Barry’s expression sobered. “Sorry buddy,” he said, sounding as genuine as he ever had. “I didn’t realise it was so serious.”

“What are you talking about?”

Shaking his head and sounding much more like the bloke Mike was used to, Barry used his index finger to emphasise an order Mike couldn’t refuse. “You. In my office. Now.”

Once inside the cramped, windowless office littered with papers and empty cola cans, Barry kicked one of the empty visitor’s chairs toward Mike—a rickety thing sparsely covered in ripped black vinyl. “Sit down and spill.”

“This place is disgusting, you realise that? It looks like you might be growing something in here.”

“Quit avoiding the issue.”

“Which is?”

Barry eyed him levelly. “You being in love with Eve.”

“You’re nuts.” Mike tried to laugh. For some reason, the sound stopped in his chest, somewhere in the vicinity of his heart. “It’s not—”
It’s not like that
, he’d meant to say, but he couldn’t say that either.

Feeling sucker-punched, Mike found the chair Barry had offered and fell into it. He scrubbed a hand over his face. His voice gave away his bewilderment. “How did this happen?”

“Hit you from side on, is my guess. At least that’s how it happened for me, when I met Sally.”

“This is not like with you and Sally.” Barry had fallen hard for Sally, asking her to marry him within a week of their first date. Sally and Barry had been a perfect fit from the start—not like him and Eve.

“I care about Eve,” he conceded, not quite ready to confront that word
love
just yet. “I care about her a lot; but she’s had it tough. She really needs someone rock solid—someone who’ll make sure nothing bad ever happens to her again.”

“And you’re not rock solid?”

He gave a derisive laugh. “Come on. I’m not the settling-down type.

“Hmm.” Barry gave him a speculative look and leaned back in his chair. The hinges creaked under his bulk. “Let me get this straight. You sell a thriving business in Greece to come back here and be a help to your family. You take on care of your nephew with as much dedication as you would if he were your own. Then you knock back a lucrative job in Melbourne because you think he needs you to be around, and because you think his guardian needs you, too. Don’t try to deny it.” He pointed a warning finger that halted Mike’s protest about Eve’s part in his decision not to move away. “And you don’t think you’re the settling-down type? It’s too late, Wilcox. You’re already there.”