Someone Like You (27 page)

Dan poured himself a coffee from the French press and sat opposite her at the table. When Lizzie popped the last piece of bacon into her mouth, it struck her that both times she’d sat at Dan’s table, he’d fed her. Wasn’t that turn up for the books.

‘Thanks for breakfast. Just what I needed.’ Lizzie swallowed, allowing herself only a quick glance in his direction.

‘It’s the least I can do.’

Lizzie looked out the front windows. Cars had already parked along the esplanade and people were unloading eskies and kids and umbrellas, taking surf boards down from roof racks, preparing for Boxing Day on the beach.

‘Elizabeth.’ Dan’s voice was soft, teasing.

‘Yeah?’

‘You know, nothing happened last night.’

Lizzie put her cutlery neatly across her plate. So he wanted to talk about it. She
so
didn’t. Didn’t want to relive her embarrassment and mortification at her behaviour.

‘I know,’ she replied and felt the heat bloom in her cheeks.

Dan shifted in his seat, crossed his arms on the table, leaned towards her. ‘I think I deserve a medal for my restraint, don’t you? I was a total gentleman. Even though you were naked in my bed.’

‘Yeah, I’m sure the front garden barfing was a total turn-on.’ Lizzie shivered at the memory and covered her eyes with her hands.

‘Not so much. But the part where I took off your clothes and put you in the shower? It was right up there.’

Something shimmied up Lizzie’s spine and lodged in her throat.

‘Nice lingerie, by the way.’

Worst. Idea. Ever.

Lizzie had a flashback to her decision the night before to wear her sexiest red bra and knickers under that red party dress. Julia had convinced her to buy them when they’d gone up to Adelaide. When she’d put them on and stood in front of her mirror, she’d for once been distracted from her wobbly bits and instead saw the bits that weren’t half bad. The lingerie had been a present for her and her alone, to give herself a sexy kick up the arse, and she’d had no clue that the lacy bits of barely-there nothingness would be on display to anybody. Especially not him.

And now he was probably thinking she’d done it all on purpose, that she’d set a mantrap, with her lingerie as the bait. That she wouldn’t care that he was with someone else. That was more humiliating than vomiting in front of him.

‘I’m sure Anna will admire your restraint too.’ Lizzie straightened and met his eyes.

The sexiness drained out of them. ‘What’s Anna got to do with it?’

‘I’m not the kind of girl to cut someone else’s lunch, no matter how drunk I am.’ Lizzie gulped down the last of her coffee and pushed back the chair with a scrape.

‘Hang on,’ Dan said, his voice louder now and testy. He stood too. ‘What kind of a man do you think I am? First of all, I’m not the kind of guy to fuck someone who’s drunk. Even if she happens to be unbelievably hot and naked and in my bed, centimetres away from me. And not even if I had a raging hard-on most of the night. Clear?’

Lizzie gulped. Most of the night?
Oh my
.

‘And second,’ he clenched his fists at his side, taking a deep breath, ‘There’s
nothing
going on with Anna and me. Nothing. She’s married, for fuck’s sake.’

Now she really felt like a deflated balloon the day after the party. This
was
a bad midday movie. Trying to resurrect a shred of self-respect, she went with what she knew but what he hadn’t told her himself. ‘I know you two were involved.’

Dan shook his head in disbelief. ‘Jesus, Lizzie, that’s hardly a secret. She is a fantastic woman. We’re still friends. Good friends.’

‘But you didn’t think to tell me yourself, did you?’

Dan cursed himself. He couldn’t tell her any more. He just couldn’t. He wasn’t ready to give her the whole story. That would have to be enough. For now.

Lizzie stepped backwards. ‘Whoever she is to you is none of my business. I didn’t apologise for my behaviour last night. So, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to see that. Thank you for the shower, the bed, the breakfast.’

For taking care of me
.

‘You don’t have to apologise. And where the hell are you going?’

Lizzie pulled the towel tighter against her, closed her eyes in humiliation at the question she knew she had to ask. ‘Where are my clothes? I need to go home.’

Dan nodded towards his bedroom. ‘Grab a T-shirt of mine from the drawer. I’ll drive you. I’m not letting you walk home.’

It was a command she was happy to obey. The thought of walking the streets of Middle Point the morning after the night before in a vomit-splattered party dress, looking for all the world like a trashed party-girl, was beyond mortifying.

Every day for the next week, Lizzie barely had time to draw breath. Tourist season was in full swing. The pub was groaning with people for lunch and dinner and for drinks at every hour in between. Traffic on the esplanade felt like Adelaide’s peak hour, all day. The beach below was filled with life and people and summertime. Sandcastles were being constructed with precision by groups of young children, their noses smeared with sunscreen like tribal markings. Teenage boys sauntered the beach with bodyboards under their arms, their boardshorts so low-slung that the brand of their jocks were visible on their flat, tanned stomachs. Teenage girls in wetsuits took to the waves too, their long hair pulled back in high ponytails, while others in bikinis lay on the sand, topping up their honey tans and sending text messages. Surf schools plied their trade every day in the peak season, their advertising flags staked into the sand and perpetually fluttering in the breeze. Anxious parents crowded the waterline with cameras and little kids with low centres of gravity sprung up on their feet on rented boards in shallow swells, converted to the sport in one wave.

It was high summer in Middle Point, which also meant one other thing. Lizzie had fallen into bed every night, exhausted. She’d barely had time to wave to Julia and Ry when they turned up at the pub for lunch. She’d seriously neglected Harri, and Joe seemed content to wave her hello and goodbye as she came and went each day, mumbling an appropriate greeting in return. The good news was that Ry had been crunching the numbers and it looked like the pub might rack up a record turnover for the holiday season. The bad news was, she hadn’t seen Dan since the morning he’d cooked her breakfast and driven her home.

In the snatches of time when she’d allowed herself to think about him, Lizzie felt as tangled up as a clump of dead sea grass on the beach. So he wasn’t involved with Anna. He’d made that clear. He’d also described her as ‘hot’. She’d only revisited that comment, oh, maybe a thousand times. She heard it in her head the minute she woke up and it bobbed and lolled about all day. And every night, as she lay in bed, bone-tired but unable to sleep, she realised the same thing: he wasn’t going to do anything about it.

At five minutes to midnight on New Year’s Eve, Lizzie tumbled out of the pub and onto the roadway on the cliff top with every other patron in the place. The fireworks in the nearby coastal town of Victor Harbor would soon be visible along the coastline in the eastern sky and would signal the turnover of the New Year. There was a buzz of anticipation in the crowd, fuelled by good food, great wine and friends. It was a still night, and the sounds of celebration and laughter floated high up into the dark sky.

Despite the sense of excitement building all around her, Lizzie felt flat. She’d never liked the last day of the year. She’d worked every one for the past fifteen years as a way of soaking up everyone else’s excitement, but she’d never felt any for herself. It was just another day and, for all but a couple of years, she’d never had anyone to kiss at the stroke of twelve. She’d stuck to her New Year’s Day ritual of drinking champagne on her own, to mark that she’d survived another year, day after regular day.

‘One minute to go,’ someone called from the crowd and people surged forward to the cliff top. All around her, they moved towards their loved ones, wanting to be close when the year ticked over. Lizzie watched them all with a heavy heart. She crossed her arms, hugged herself, wondered what a cruel irony it was that this year, when her nearest and dearest were back in Middle Point, she should still feel so alone.

‘Ten. Nine. Eight.’ The call started. Faces around her were lit up with the excitement of it. Lizzie shivered.

‘Seven. Six. Five.’ Seconds to go.

‘Four. Three. Two. One. Happy New Year!’ A cheer erupted around her and in the distance, the first fireworks exploded in the sky, patterns of iridescent green and purple and blue.

Someone was calling her name, she was sure of it. Someone whose voice she knew. There was a hand on her shoulder. She turned.

‘Elizabeth.’

Dan was right there, creating an altogether different explosion in her heart. His chest was rising and falling with deep breaths. Nine kinds of handsome, his shoulders set in a shrug, his eyes bright even in the darkness.

Was it the fireworks or seeing Dan that had her quivering? And then she knew. She knew she was going to see the New Year in with a kiss this year, that was for damn sure.

She wasn’t going to waste this man.

Lizzie reached up to hold his face in her hands. There was a sudden flare in his eyes and he got there before she did. His lips crashed down on hers so fiercely that he bent her backwards, the only things holding her up were his arms low on her waist. All her strength was in that kiss. Her lips parted in thrilling desire and his tongue tangled with hers, taking her, sharing her longing, reflecting back how much she wanted him. Lizzie didn’t hear another sound from the crowd. The whoosh in her ears drowned out everything else. She pulled him closer, clinging to him, wanting to feel the strength of him hard against her as they kissed.

When they stopped, reluctantly, a cheer went up around them. Dan’s eyes caught hers.

‘Happy New Year.’ His voice was deep and rough and it set off a fire between her thighs. She never wanted to let him go.

‘Right back at you,’ she said, finding the back pockets of his jeans and slipping her fingers into them, squeezing his butt. Every nerve ending in Lizzie’s body crackled like sherbet on her tongue. She sighed and relaxed against him, softened in his embrace, used his strong body to prop up her exhausted limbs. With her head against his chest, she could hear the boom of his own heartbeat. One sure hand cradled her head.

‘Lizzie!’ From behind her, another set of arms was around her. It was Julia. She lifted her head a little and saw Ry, who was smiling at the size of the crowd.

‘Happy New Year!’

Lizzie felt a swell in her heart. ‘I’m so glad you’re all here.’ The crowd around them exclaimed at another starburst of fireworks.

‘We wouldn’t miss it for anything,’ Julia laughed. ‘I tried to get Joe to come as well, but…’ her voice trailed off and she shrugged. She didn’t have to say any more for Lizzie to know what he would have said.

‘Look at all these people,’ Ry said, rubbing his hands together. ‘All spending money in my pub. Excellent.’

‘Mate,’ Dan laughed, holding Lizzie tight in his arms. ‘Stop thinking like the owner and start thinking like a local, will you? They’re making memories, not making you rich.’ The tease in his voice was obvious to them all.

Ry grinned. ‘Yeah, that too, Dan. Stop making me sound like a miserable bastard. Happy New Year, you pain in the arse.’ Ry slapped Dan on the back, his face creased with a smile that said so much more.

At another gasp from the crowd around them, all eyes turned upward to the sky. Lizzie stole a glance at Julia and Ry. Her best friend was nestled in the arms of the man she loved and she looked radiant. What a year it had been for them, she realised, reunited after so long, and life was only going to get better with their wedding in February.

She turned so her back was against Dan’s chest, held on tight to the arms that were crossed possessively around her.

It was a new year. For the first time in so many, Lizzie felt slightly more hopeful that the turning over of the calendar would bring her better things, too.

Once the fireworks display had ended, the crowd on the roadway outside the pub dissipated. Some went back inside to continue celebrating, others with sleepy children ushered them home to bed. Lizzie glanced over her shoulder. Her job was to go back inside and work until closing at two a.m. That was the other hard thing about this time of year. Everyone else continued the party. She continued the hard labour.

Dan held her hand, his thumb rubbing circles there. ‘You’ve got to go back to work, huh?’

She sighed. ‘I do.’

‘Damn it,’ he whispered in her ear, ‘I thought maybe you could come back to my place and we could make some fireworks of our own.’

Lizzie took in his sexy grin and his raised eyebrows. ‘Wow. I reckon that was the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard.’

Dan lifted her hand and touched his lips to the back of it. ‘Our fireworks might last a bit longer.’
Oh my
. She knew they would. And she didn’t think about it before she asked. She just put it out there.

‘Why don’t you come over to my place tomorrow night? Tonight. New Year’s Day.’ She laughed through her exhaustion. ‘Eight o’clock. I have this amazing bottle of French champagne. Feel like sharing it?’

Dan leaned down for one last kiss of the night, gentle, soft, full of promise and expectation. ‘Yes, I do. I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he murmured against her lips. ‘Or maybe that’s today.’

Lizzie ran her hands down the firm muscles of his chest, across the flat plane of his stomach and around his hips to grip his butt again with both hands.

‘See you then, Big Guy.’

New Year’s Day felt like it was forty-eight hours long. Dan hadn’t fallen into bed until two in the morning but he hadn’t slept for more than a couple of minutes at a time and his state of mind in the morning reflected it. His head had been full of the promise of being with Lizzie again, instead of the imperative of getting some shut-eye. Somewhere in between the tossing and the turning, the tangle of sheets around his legs, the sweat on his brow and a raging dawn horn, he’d decided he should tell her the truth.