Melting Into You (Due South Book 2) (14 page)

BOOK: Melting Into You (Due South Book 2)
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He gave her a wry smile and answered the call. “Marci. What’s up?”

Marci’s high-pitched voice drifted out of the tiny phone speaker in unintelligible squeaks.

Frown lines arrowed between his eyes. He slumped against the wall with a sigh, and the back of his head
thunked
on the wood paneling.


Whaddya mean, you’re not coming tomorrow? Did you miss your flight? You can book—”

Suddenly he straightened, every line of his body screaming tension. His free hand knotted into a fist, and he paced two steps toward Kezia, turned, and then stormed outside. Kezia hurried after him, shutting the door behind her.

“No. No way. You can’t be fucking serious.” His large hand grabbed the porch rail, his knuckles sharp, white points. “Jade’s not a deal breaker or some bloody unwanted thing you can give away because she doesn’t suit your lifestyle anymore!”

Kezia’s hand flew to her mouth, and she pressed her lips together so a whimper wouldn’t escape. Not even Marci could be that cruel, could she?

“What about school? Her friends in Auckland, for God’s sake? She won’t be better off with me—you can’t just—Marci?” He held out the phone and glared at it, then slapped it against his ear again. “Marci? Fuck.” He shoved the phone into his pocket.

“She hung up on me.” Bent forward, he clutched the porch rail, dipping his head between his spread arms. “Jesus,
Kez. She’s not coming back. At all.”

Oh, sweet Mother.

Big and bad and brought to his knees. Kezia moved to his side and laid a palm on his shoulder blade. Muscle and tendon knotted under his jacket as she rubbed soothing circles. Tremors zipped up and down his spine.

“What did she say?”

Ben straightened and her hand slid off him, floating helplessly down to her side. He turned away, sitting on the small bench at the far end of the porch. She sat too—but kept her distance.

“Marci’s been seeing some rich investment banker and he popped the question last month. Long story short, Jade’s a deal breaker.” He gripped his knees. “The banker doesn’t want kids and apparently, Jade’s disposable now she’s got her
real dad
, and a
whole lovely new family
down here.”

“Oh, Ben.”

“Marci knew before she arrived on the island she wasn’t coming back. How am I supposed to tell Jade her mother’s dumped her? The poor fucking kid.”

Kezia’s throat ached, a thick throbbing that matched each painful beat of her heart.

“You’ll explain in the morning. There’s no point upsetting her tonight.” She reached across and laid a hand on Ben’s thigh.

He exploded off the bench. “I suck at this solo-dad gig. How am I going do it without permanently scre
wing her up?” He whirled, fists clenched as if he intended to punch his knuckles bloody on the wall.

Kezia kept her voice steady. “The alternative is fo
ster care.”

“My daughter is not going into the fucking system,” Ben snarled.

“Then you’ve already made the decision. She stays with you.”

“God help her.” Ben walked to the railing and perched a hip on it, dragging a hand over his face. “I don’t know any more about being a father than I did two weeks ago.”

A small smile tugged her lips. “Yes, you do. You proved it by putting her needs before your own wants. Welcome to parenthood.”

“Shit.”

“Go home, Ben. Ring your family and make some plans. Get drunk with your friends, if that’s what you need.” Kezia stood, buttoning the fuzzy cardigan she’d thrown on before answering the door.

Ben nailed her with a haunted stare. Neither moved, even when the bitter sea breeze ruffled through his hair and slapped her cheeks.

“What I need, Kez…” His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his shoulders hunched as if prepared for rejection. “What I seem to need right now…is you.”

Her fingers curled at her side, tangled in the card
igan’s soft wool. Accept or reject. Deny or admit. Ignore his quiet plea. Or move both feet over a line she couldn’t cross back from.

She hesitated—blood surging, heart rampaging.

“Stupid, huh?” He shook his head and walked to the porch steps. “I’ll go and get Jade’s stuff.”

Covering the short distance in a
nano-second, Kezia snatched up a handful of his jacket before he stepped onto the path.

At the touch, he froze. “
Kez?”

She released her grip, and he turned slowly, his eyes level with hers. Beautiful eyes, ringed with soft flecks of gold mixed in with the brown. Fathomless eyes, with sinfully long lashes and a sheen to them that pinched at her heart.

Ben needed her.

Did he have any idea the weight those words ca
rried? How they fell into her mind and burned through her soul like little lava rocks, melting resistance until they settled low in the pit of her stomach. Warming her from the inside out. Making her feel things she didn’t want to feel.

Kezia moved to the edge of the step and slid her hands either side of his jaw, relishing the rasp of stu
bble on her palms. She pressed her mouth to his. Not to take something, just to give him the female equivalent of a manly backslap. A little comfort when his world had once again tipped upside down.

She scraped her thumb along his jaw. Her tongue flickered into his mouth and tasted the faint trace of beer on his lips. The smell of him, salt and smoke drenched in male pheromones, triggered every er
ogenous zone to life. Erogenous zones that yowled with hunger now they’d awakened.

Her
hands dove into his silky hair and she tugged him closer, tangling her fingers in the thick strands so he couldn’t get away. Fortunately for the man’s scalp health, he wasn’t trying very hard to get away.

With a rough sound that vibrated inside her mouth, he hauled her flush against him.

The kiss turned from comfort to carnal in seconds.

All. His. Fault.

Except it was her burrowing closer. Her lips parting, her tongue stroking his, her drowning in his taste. And her who bunched fistfuls of his jacket and held on, even when he eased away.

“Maybe you need me a little too,” he said.

Air held hostage in her lungs, Kezia reminded herself to breathe. The truth terrified her. Needing him even a
little
was still far too much.

“Maybe I do. But I think wanting you is safer.”

He took a step backward, not dropping her gaze. “I like the idea of you wanting me. Fair turnabout.”

She touched her lips, still damp from their kiss. Blood bloomed hot and fast through her veins, each soft pulse seemed to demand more, more, more. This insane craving couldn’t continue. Wouldn’t continue, if life would only stick to the program.

Hah! Life had a way of unexpectedly biting her on the
culo
. She’d counted on Jade leaving. Not that she hadn’t come to love the little girl—but with Jade gone, there’d be no viable reason to spend time with Ben, and shutting down this attraction would be so much easier. Easier and necessary.

“I’d better go and check on the girls.” She tugged the cardigan’s neckline together, a drop of sweat trickling between her breasts.

Overheated hussy—get thee to a cold shower.

Pasting on her
everything is under control
smile, she added, “Drop off Jade’s gear and come back in the morning for breakfast. We’ll tell her together if you like—put a positive spin on the situation.”

“Zoe will be happy to have Jade around when school starts—” Ben clapped a palm to his forehead. “Aw hell, school!”

“Let’s just get through the weekend. I’ll sort out that part of your problem.”

“I have other, harder problems you could sort out.” He gave her a lopsided grin. A grin aiming for leche
rous but missing, landing on sweetly vulnerable.

Her heart bunny-hopped into her throat, and she licked her lips. “That’s one problem you’ll have to take care of yourself.”

“A man could die from lack of blood to the brain.”

She laughed, making a valiant effort not to drop her gaze. “Poor
bambino
.”

Ben raised a hand and strolled to the gate. “You’re a cold-hearted woman, Kezia Murphy,” he called over his shoulder. “But I
kinda like it.”

 

Ben trudged home, slamming the front door. Kicked it with his heel for good measure. Officially his last night of freedom before full-time fatherhood.

Un-
frickin’-believable.

Three voice messages left on Marci’s phone later, he figured she wasn’t going to pick up, so he called his mother. Glenna lectured and advised non-stop until she ran outta air. Fortunately, before she could gain a s
econd wind, one of her guests interrupted, asking for fresh towels or some such shit. He got off lightly.

Ben collapsed on the sofa with a beer and took his frustration out on the TV remote. He didn’t bother tur
ning on lights; who wanted to see themselves staring at a screen looking pathetic? Maybe he should book a flight to Auckland and dump the kid right back on Marci’s doorstep. He squirmed uncomfortably.
Yeah, nah, really dumb idea
. He wouldn’t do that. Jade had enough of being dumped in her short life.

He surfed through documentaries, sitcoms, and blow-your-brains-out-boring cookery shows. With nothing decent to brood in front of, he switched off the TV and sipped his beer, contemplating the rest of
Kez’s advice. Maybe he should call his mates for a get-drunk-and-talk-sports session. Only he’d have to pretend he had his shit together about the whole instant-and-now-permanent fatherhood deal.

Getting stinking drunk wouldn’t change the suck factor of his life. Getting drunk would only set him on the same path as his dad.

Michael Harland, a secret alcoholic fifteen years sober, drowned because he acted on a
really dumb idea
after a fight with Ben’s mother. Michael consoled himself with his old pal Jack Daniels, and the next morning chose to free-dive with the then eighteen-year-old Piper as a safety diver. And where had Ben been, while his father was dying in the cold waters of Paterson Inlet? Sleeping off a night of hard drinking with his mates.
Nice, huh?

Flicking his booted feet off his sofa, Ben stood, strode outside onto his deck, and looked down the hill toward Kezia’s place. She’d been a rock for him after Marci had dropped her little bombshell.

Holy hell, what a bombshell. Full-time father. Twenty-four-seven for the next decade—he’d be a year off forty before he was free again. No more poker nights until two in the morning. No more booty calls—as West put it—whenever a pretty tourist caught his eye. No more easy sex, period. How could you have a spontaneous sex life if you were responsible for an eight-year-old kid?

Thoughts of sex led to thoughts of Kezia—and he so did not need another granite-hard boner if he intended to get any sleep tonight. Getting drunk wouldn’t change anything, but getting laid might. He kicked the rail. That wasn’t happening either. Damn it.

He stalked inside and hit the shower, dialing the mixer to a few degrees above icy.

 

The next morning, Ben dragged himself to Kezia’s with a gut jumping like a bad-tempered crayfish had taken up residence. Not enough coffee in the world to prepare him for breaking the news to Jade.

He knocked on Kezia’s back door, stepping inside after she called out. Heat from the wood burner warmed his icy cheeks, and he shucked off his jacket. The girls chatted over breakfast, and the smell of freshly made pancakes wafted across the kitchen.

His belly let out a loud grumble and the stomach-crayfish took a hike.

“Hungry?” Kezia turned from the stove, one hand on her apron-clad hip, the other pointing a fish slice in his direction.

“Starved.” He opted for a chair facing away from Kezia and studied his daughter opposite.

She looked happy, goddamn it.

Dressed in a purple woolly jersey his mother had miraculously knitted for her in the short time she’d been here, with her hair neatly brushed, and sticky syrup smeared around her lips, Jade grinned over at him.

“Hi, Dad. Can we have lunch at the Great Flat White Café when Mum gets off the ferry?”

He sensed rather than heard Kezia freeze behind him. He considered cracking a joke about how Jade would fit in lunch after such a big breakfast, or changing the subject until he’d scarfed down half a dozen pancakes. But he wouldn’t lie to a kid who’d been lied to enough, and to hell with waiting for Kez to do some of the dirty work with him.

“Your mum’s not coming on the ferry today, Jade. She rang—said she thinks you’d be happier staying here with me.”

Jade’s nose and forehead crinkled. “Huh? How long for?”

“Ah.” Ben scratched the tip of his ear, which stung hot as if he’d gotten third-degree sunburn. “She thinks you should live here with me so you can go to school and h
ang out with your new friends.”

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