Fly with Me (20 page)

That soft,
luscious body that he could imagine beneath him, all those secrets
bared to his gaze, his touch, his mouth.

At the
stirring in his loins he tightened his grip on the mug, lifting it
to take a deep, fortifying swallow of tea. Christ, he had to get
his imagination under control - not to mention his libido - before
he dragged her across the table to kiss her so hungrily he’d
probably leave more than an astonished impression on the few people
in the café - he’d be like to leave his seed in her body.

Hoo boy.

Taking another
mouthful of tea, he watched over the rim as she gave her order to
Cheryl, the older woman pointing at the menu with the end of her
pen as both of them pondered the offerings. Finally Elissa made her
choice and sat back, her gaze switching to him.

Oops, going by
the way her eyes widened a little, maybe he wasn’t doing such a
good job of hiding his distinctly carnal thoughts.

Ruthlessly
shoving all dreamy, hot desires down, he flashed her a reassuring
grin before turning his attention to Cheryl.

“What’ll it
be, honey?” Cheryl asked. “Please remember I have other people to
feed this morning as well.”

Simon placed
his hand to his chest. “What are you insinuating, Cheryl?”

“I have enough
food in the café to feed about twenty people. Then you came in and
it magically reduced to fifteen.”

“Are you
saying I eat enough food for five people?”

She just
looked at him.

Simon switched
his gaze to Elissa. “I’m hurt.”

She just
dimpled, those delightful apple cheeks rounding. Sweet.

Returning his
attention to Cheryl, he smiled winningly. “I’ll hold back.”

“This should
be good,” Cheryl said dryly, placing pen tip to pad. “Let’s have
it.”

“Mixed grill,
a couple of hash browns as well - no, make that three - three
slices of toast, only two fried eggs ‘cause I’m trying to cut down
a little-”

“You don’t
say.”

“I know, good
of me, right? Could I also have a bran muffin, ‘cause that’s the
cereal element, a glass of apple juice-”

“For the
fruit, right?”

“You got
it.”

Cheryl
finished scribbling. “That it?”

“Thank you,
yes.” Simon beamed at her. “How was that?”

“You should
have just asked for the usual.” Cheryl walked off.

Grinning, he
settled back in the seat to find Elissa watching him with raised
eyebrows.

“What’s your
usual?” she asked.

“What I just
ordered.”

“Huh.” Her
head angled slightly to one side as she studied him curiously.
“Your usual means you come here often.”

“Yep.”

“Don’t you
cook for yourself?”

“Sometimes.”
Making himself comfortable, he was more than content to answer
questions. Hell, he had nothing to hide. Plus he was more than
happy to have his sweet little Lis curious about him.

“Do you live
alone?”

“Yep. Well,
until Arthur finally comes, then I’ll have a roomy.”

“Hmmm. So,
house, flat or duplex?”

“We don’t have
flats in this town. I live in a house.”

About to ask
something else, she paused.

He gave a
‘come on’ gesture with his hands.

“Aren’t you a
little offended that I’m prying?” she asked.

“Are you
trying to be offending?”

“No.”

“Then I’m not
offended.” Plus, he had an ulterior motive, but she didn’t need to
know that yet. “Ask away.”

Those fine
eyebrows rose again, inching up to that enticingly dishevelled
hairline. “Is anything off topic?”

“We’ll find
out. Hit me with it, sweetheart, I’m an open book.”

Light brown
eyes regarded him with surprising frankness. “Is that so?”

He smiled
congenially.

“I’m not so
sure you are.”

“You’ll never
know until you try.”

“Hmmm.” She
stroked her chin. “Okay. You live alone in a house, currently in
the process of interviewing your reluctant soon-to-be furry, cranky
roomy. You’re a fireman.” She snapped her fingers. “Did you grow up
here like Scott?”

“Nope.”
Enjoying the way she studied him -
hey, baby, look all you
want
- Simon waited.

Elissa ran her
fingers up and down the glass of orange juice, the condensation
trickling down the outside of it. Without taking her attention from
him, she snagged a paper napkin from the holder in the middle of
the table and set the glass on it, soaking up the moisture.

Hmmm, neat in
habits as well as appearance. Well, not really appearance, not
right now. Simon kept his gaze on her face but he had a good view
of that lush body anyway. The way that magnificent bosom pressed
against the pale blue jumper, those rounded arms, the pale skin
revealed where she’d shoved the sleeves up to just below her
elbows.

He certainly
wouldn’t mind trailing his lips up the pale skin on the inside of
her arm. No, by gosh, he wouldn’t mind at all. Trail it up higher
and-

“Girlfriend?”

“What?” The
question yanked him rudely from his entertaining thoughts.
“No.”

“Fiancée?
Wife?”

“Seriously?”

“Is that off
topic?”

Unbelievable.
“Would you be having breaky with me if I was?”

“Off
topic?”

“Married or
engaged.”

“No, Simon, I
would not.”

“So you know
I’m single and fancy-free.”

Well, look at
that, a very confident nod from that curly-maned head.

“So why
ask?”

“Because I
could?” She burst out laughing at his sardonic eye rolling.

“I think
there’s a tease under that deceivingly innocent demeanour.” And
didn’t that just tickle his fancy.

“Bad habits
are hard to break.”

“Lis, that’s a
habit I happen to love.”

Silence
greeted this, a sweeping down of her lashes to hide her thoughts
before the thick, long lengths rose again to reveal sparkling eyes.
“De facto?”

“And that
right there is why some women get kissed into silence.”

“Because the
men who do it are obnoxious?”

“More like
lucky bastards.”

Elissa’s smile
was wide enough to showcase a dimple in her cheek. Cripes, he’d
like to lick that dimple, kiss it, follow the trail right down to
those lush lips.

“I’ve never
had a man kiss me into silence,” she said pertly, surprising
him.

“I’m sure it
will happen soon.” His gaze dropped to her lips, lingered. “I’m
certain, in fact.”
Oh yeah, am I ever
.

Then his gaze
lifted again to find her looking at him, but there was no
indignation in her gaze, no confusion. No horror. No. But Jesus,
there was a whole lot of heat. Heat so hot he could feel the scorch
of it licking along his skin, and hello, his shaft was stirring in
happy anticipation.

The heat in
her eyes was so unexpected, so bloody welcome and astonishing at
once that Simon couldn’t help it, felt his own answering heat flare
out, gave her the full force of what he’d been keeping tamped
down.

They looked at
each other, an invisible strand of something reaching out to each
other, touching, making him lean forward unconsciously, so very
aware that she did the same. The tip of her tongue touched her
upper lip, just a peek, enough to draw his hot eyes to those lush,
lush lips. God, he wanted to taste them, lick them, sweep them
softly with his mouth before bloody well devouring her in an open,
searching, seeking and finding kiss that-

“Food’s up,”
Cheryl said cheerfully, and instead of having Elissa laid out on
the table before him, a plate of aromatic food heaped high was
placed right in front of him, making him literally jump back.
“Settle, honey, I’m not going to drop it. That’d give you a heart
attack.”

“Ah - thanks,
Cheryl.” Remembering where he was - holy cow, he’d never forgotten
that before - Simon mentally steadied himself.

Shit, he hoped
no one else had seen them, not because he could care, but because
he didn’t want to embarrass Elissa or frighten her off. Frightening
her off was so very far from his intentions.

Watching
Elissa smile at Cheryl as she accepted the plate from her, all calm
and in control, so at odds with what he’d seen mere seconds ago, he
knew he wasn’t going to hide his emotions from her. Nope. No way.
He’d never practiced subterfuge in the past and wasn’t about to
start now.

It also didn’t
mean he had to jump her like a dog in heat, though doggy-style
wasn’t such a bad -
hells bells
!

Grabbing the
knife and fork, Simon used the pretence of surveying his loaded
plate to get a grip on his wayward thoughts. Okay, she’d given him
a hot look as well, but that didn’t mean she would welcome him
dragging her under the table and -
get a bloody grip!

“Simon?”

At the sound
of her soft voice, he looked up to see her watching him with a
slightly wary expression. Okay, the wariness in her beautiful eyes
wasn’t something he wanted to see when she looked at him.
Confidence, happiness, amusement, yeah, but not wariness.

Forcing
himself to relax, he smiled as he cut into some bacon. “Yep?”

“Are you all
right?”

“Just hungry.”
In more ways than one
. “So, anything else you’d like to know
about me?”

Still a little
wary, she lightly salted her fried egg. “Sure you want to continue
this?”

“Why wouldn’t
I?”

“Why would
you?”

Loaded
question. Oh boy, was it loaded. Taking a mouthful of bacon and
egg, he chewed it thoughtfully as he studied her. Was she referring
to his less than innocent look of minutes ago, or to his
sensibilities?

Give the woman
credit, she looked him right in the eyes as she forked bacon and
egg into her own mouth and chewed. Hands holding the knife and fork
easily, she studied him right back without a qualm.

And it wasn’t
his imagination, her wariness faded a little as he continued to
watch her watching him.

He couldn’t
help but be amused, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he
conveyed his amusement to her.

Well, look at
that, her eyes crinkled at the corners in answering amusement, and
damned if those little laughter lines just gave her a
light-hearted, almost merry air.

Swallowing a
mouthful of tea, he placed the mug down on the table while still
watching her, testing how far she’d go with the silence and
laughing at him. This woman was proving to have a few surprises of
her own.

Elissa took
another mouthful of food, daintily cut a piece of toast and popped
it in as well.

So he took a
bigger forkful of steak and egg, topped it off with a good portion
of toast and leaned back in the seat watching her as he ate. Hell,
he didn’t mind, he could sit there all day and just watch her eat,
those rosy lips closed, brown eyes sparkling.

Be better if
he could taste her, but he’d settle for what he could get. For now.
Which was her trust. Among other things.

It was Elissa
who broke the silence. Taking a mouthful of orange juice, she
raised one brow at him. “Something wrong?”

“I’m not sure.
Is there?”

“Depends on
your definition of wrong.”

Oh boy.

“I have no
problem on my side,” she continued. “Do you?”

“With
whom?”

“Me.”

“I have no
problem with you. Far from it.” Way far from it.

“You’ve gone
silent.” She looked at his plate. “Or maybe you need to be quiet
while working your way through that.”

He grinned.
“I’ve been known to work my way through a lot more than this and
still say my piece. Not that I’m bragging or anything.”

“Uh huh.” She
cut up more bacon.

A body
suddenly appeared at their table. “Hello, lovebirds.”

Startled,
Elissa looked up.

Jesus.
“Ryder.” Simon sighed.

“Yep. Shove
over.” Ryder shoved his shoulder and, as Simon moved his plate
along in resignation, his useless friend bellowed out, “Cheryl, my
love! Can I grab a coffee over here?”

“No worries,”
Cheryl called back.

“Thanks.”
Ryder flopped into the seat, shoving his hair back with one hand as
he grinned widely at Elissa. “Hey.”

“Hey.” She
smiled.

She might feel
like she had to be nice to the drongo, but Simon didn’t have any
such inhibitions. “What do you want?”

“Sympathy,”
Ryder replied. “Dee.”

Oh, that said
it all at once. “Still in the shit for the kittens vandalizing her
store?” Simon winked at Elissa.

“Jesus, that
woman! All those poor little fur-bags did were run around.”
Stretching out his legs, Ryder slouched back in the booth. “You’d
think there wasn’t anything left standing.”

“I did see one
of them playing with the EFTPOS machine,” Elissa said.

“It wasn’t
like they were ringing up purchases.”

“And destroy
the feather duster. Maybe Dee has a reason to be annoyed with
you.”

Ryder turned
to Simon with a pained expression. “And you’re feeding her?”

“Yep.” Simon
grinned, forked in more food.

“Listen,
Elissa, a few things you have to know about my fiancée, my babe, my
pain-in-the-arse. She can be damned unreasonable.” Ryder looked up,
that roguish, charming grin women seemed to fall for lighting up
his face as Cheryl placed the mug of coffee in front of him.
“Cheryl, I love you.”

“You tell me
that all the time,” Cheryl said. “Yet I’m still married to Ernie
instead of you.”

“That’s
because Ernie scares me.”

“Ernie’s old
enough to be your father.”

“I’m scared of
my father.”

Cheryl laughed
in his face and walked off.

Grinning,
Ryder flicked a packet of sugar with his thumb and finger to settle
the contents before ripping off the top and pouring it into his
coffee. “So, Elissa, how do you like our thriving city?”