What Love Sounds Like (9 page)

‘Done.’ She returned her mug to the bench top. ‘Do I tell you now that Tilly isn’t the only one with a sweet tooth? I would have agreed to one day of no pestering.’

Ten minutes later, across the narrow width of the kitchen island, Kade watched Mia spoon pink gelato into her mouth. With her tousled hair and no make-up she looked the antithesis of the formidable speech pathologist he’d met in her office. And even more beautiful.

He ate his last spoonful and snuck another look at Mia as her tongue searched for traces of gelato left upon her lips. His insides tightened. Mia’s kryptonite effect on him had to stem from more than just her attractiveness. After all he’d had plenty of pretty faces try and distract him. There was just something about being around her that made him feel…valued. When he spoke, she listened. It was though, in that moment, he was the only thing of importance. He’d only ever experienced such a feeling before when he’d spent his fortnight with his grandmother. As for the fun and laughter that always seemed to accompany Mia, if he were honest, such chaos had begun to break up the monotony of his day.

‘I think this flavour is my favourite.’ She inspected his empty bowl. ‘Did you try this one? I know you don’t like pink things but it tastes really good.’

He should stand and return the gelato to the freezer but he couldn’t look away. Simple delight shone from her eyes. She leaned forward, her heavy hair slipped over her bare shoulders and he smelled fresh apples.

She offered him her spoon. ‘Here, have some?’

Without thought he opened his mouth. She slid the cold spoon between his lips. Silky gelato glided down his throat. Her thick-lashed gaze remained on him, waiting for his verdict.

For the first time in days he was able to focus. Focus on the shards of gold in her brown irises, the curve of her smile and the faded freckles across her nose. Longing coursed through him. It was Mia he wanted to taste. Not gelato. It was her own sweetness he wanted to savour.

He knew the instant his yearnings showed on his face. Her eyes widened and she sat back on the stool.

‘Sorry, that was really unprofessional of me. I’m so used to being around children, I often forget when I’m with adults. You don’t need me to spoon-feed you.’

’There’s no need to apologise.’ Even to his own ears his voice sounded hoarse. ‘It’s been a long time since anyone has waved a spoon in my direction. I was always expected to feed myself.’ The scrape of his stool sounded as he stood. ‘One of my earliest memories is remaining at the dining room table until I could master picking up a pea up with a fork.’

He reached into the top of the nearby wall cupboard to extract a black, velvet box. He flipped the box open and laid it on the bench. Moonlight streaming in through the window glinted on the tiny set of silver, monogrammed cutlery. She lifted out the small spoon and turned it toward the window to make out the letters.

‘K. R. X. R.?’

‘Kade Richmond Xavier Reid. The Second. For as long as I can remember I’ve been a mini version of my father.’ He removed the fork from its silk-lined bed and turned it round in his fingers. ‘The first thing my grandmother did when I came to stay was put these in the cupboard and they’ve sat there ever since. I still remember the shock, the guilt, but food never tasted so good as when it was licked off your fingers.’

He laid the fork in the case. ‘Needless to say my father didn’t share my enthusiasm.’

Mia stared at the tiny spoon that weighed so heavy even in her adult hand. Her heart ached for the child whose small fingers had struggled to wield such a utensil and who had been punished when he couldn’t. She looked at the now grown man who appeared to have never known anything but an adult world. A man capable of apologising. A man she’d just fed gelato to.

Fresh warmth scorched her cheeks. Lulled by Kade’s laughter and the room’s intimate lighting, her defences had lapsed. Without thought she’d offered him a taste of her pink flavour as if he were no different to the children she worked with. Then her gaze had slid to the masculine beauty of his mouth and a reality, far colder than the frozen gelato, had slapped sense into her.

Kade was no child.

She placed the spoon into the case with unsteady fingers. ‘Your grandmother was a very wise woman.’

‘Yes. She was.’ He closed the velvet box but didn’t move to return the cutlery-set to the cupboard. His lips twisted. ‘For an insane second I thought if I brought Tilly out here some memory of my grandmother’s wisdom would help me.’

Mia had to get out of the kitchen. She had to gather her common sense that lay forgotten on her bedside table alongside her reading glasses. But she couldn’t move. The pain roughening his voice held her still.

‘You did the right thing. Tilly loves being here. ‘

‘Did I? Then why hasn’t being her guardian become any easier?’

‘Becoming an instant father isn’t easy. It takes time for change and the filling of any new role to feel comfortable.’

He laughed. But it wasn’t a jovial sound. ‘It’s been five weeks.’

She curled her fingers against the urge to touch his hollowed cheek and offer him comfort. ‘It might take five months, or even longer. But it will get easier.’

‘So the sweaty palms and anxiety will pass?’

Surprise stole her reply. He could only be joking.

His bleak and tortured eyes met hers. He wasn’t.

Her nails dug into her skin. ‘They will. Just be patient.’

‘Patience isn’t one of my virtues.’

‘But perseverance is. Just don’t give up on making things work between you and Tilly.’

The tense lines bracketing his mouth didn’t ease.

She had to find the right thing to say to ease his uncertainty and to help him. ‘There isn’t anything to worry about. Tilly will love you, whatever mistakes you may make along the way. Her acceptance is unconditional. All you need to do is to make room in your life for her.’

But instead of relief relaxing his features, his mouth settled into a firmer line. ‘That’s not going to happen. Tilly needs her own life. A life full of balloons, ferry rides and all the things I can’t give her.’

He returned the black box into the cupboard. ‘Now I’ve kept you awake long enough. I hope the gelato helps you sleep.’

‘Thanks.’

Kade’s emotional withdrawal was as potent as if he’d physically pushed her away. Back rigid, he returned the gelato to the freezer and quit the kitchen.

She picked up the book from the bench and pressed it close to her chest. She’d been right to feel on edge when she’d crept along the hallway imagining all sorts of night terrors. All her fears had come true. In the dim light of this kitchen filled with the memory of a small boy’s love for his grandmother, she’d come face to face with the unthinkable. Somewhere between the easy companionship of their gelato taste testing and staring into Kade’s tortured eyes she’d broken her unwritten rule.

Don’t cross the line.

But she had. Kade wasn’t merely Tilly’s uncle anymore. He was a man, a man whose vulnerability and pain acted as a conduit between them. Like a spark along a fuse, his humanity had incinerated her feelings of disapproval and dislike. Her heart pounded against the hard cover of the book held against her chest. The wall between Kade and Tilly wasn’t the only thing tumbling.

The barricades protecting Mia from Kade were also falling.

HE NEEDED to be careful what he wished for.

Kade stole a glance at his front-seat passenger. Mia sat still and silent. From the minute she’d buckled herself into the dual-cab farm ute and donned her oversize sunglasses she’d withdrawn into a private world. A world he didn’t feature in. Last night, as he’d left the kitchen, he would have given a small fortune to never again have her gentle words lure him along a road he just didn’t travel. He never talked about his past. Now he’d pay an even larger fortune to hear her speak.

He checked on Tilly in his rear-view mirror. Her little nose was pressed against the window as she scouted for long-legged emus running along the fence line. Eyes bright and curious, she turned in her seat to look back at an old corrugated iron tank and windmill as the wind turned the windmill’s blades. Mia was right. Tilly did love being out here. And if he was honest, he did too.

He looked back at the dirt track that stretched before him. But he hadn’t taken the morning off work to admire the vivid, sunburnt landscape through which they drove. He’d atone for his inappropriate money comment with a gelato picnic, then he’d high-tail it back to his office in the homestead. After his unsuccessful focus-finding trip to the city it was now the only trench he’d left to bunker down in.

‘Is the river much further?’ Mia asked. ‘Maybe we should have placed more ice in the cooler to keep the gelato cool?’

The ice in the cooler wasn’t the only thing having a chilling effect. Mia’s distant tone lowered the car’s air temperature at least a degree.

He scanned what he could see of her closed expression. She’d pulled her hair off her face into a tight pony-tail and wore a collared, no-nonsense, white tee tucked into denim shorts.

‘We’re almost there. We’ll eat, have a short swim and then return to work.’

He waited for a lecture about play being as important as work, but all she said was, ‘Great.’ He cast her another sideways glance. She stared out the windscreen at the passing cattle-dotted paddocks as though he wasn’t even there.

His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. It’d never mattered before what people thought of him. He’d had his work. So why did it matter now? The Mia-effect had to stop before he forgot who he was and what he was supposed to be doing. His survival depended upon self-discipline. Survival didn’t depend upon waiting for his father to visit him at boarding school and didn’t depend upon the little voice that hoped his step-mother would love him. And definitely didn’t depend upon divulging personal information to a speech pathologist whose unnatural silence bothered him far more than her lethal stare.

She shouldn’t have come.

Mia placed the last of the empty gelato tub lids on and returned the picnic basket onto the ute’s back seat. It didn’t matter that the tree-shaded waterhole was a perfect place for a gelato picnic or that Kade had suggested such an outing, she should have stayed behind. But Tilly’s sad mouth had only been matched by the alarm in Kade’s eyes when Mia had volunteered to remain at the homestead. And thanks to her soft heart, here she was.

She caught herself before she turned to look at Kade as he walked along the river’s edge behind her. After last night’s kitchen fiasco she was now determined to stay behind the line that should never be crossed. She’d crossed such a line once before with her work colleague Jack, and she never would do so again. There could be no more personal conversations with Kade and no more lowering of her guard. This morning she’d made sure she treated him exactly as what he was, the guardian of her small client. Nothing more. Nothing less.

She walked over to where Tilly sat on the tray-back of the ute, swinging her legs as she played with Stardust.

‘Having fun?’

Tilly stopped humming to nod and grin. Mia collected a napkin and wiped the pink blush of gelato off her small chin. Tilly wiggled beneath Mia’s touch.

‘Dow swimming now?’

‘Soon. Your uncle is checking the water is okay to swim in. Let’s put some more sunscreen on you while you’re waiting.’

Tilly squirmed again as Mia applied sun lotion to her pert, button nose. She handed Tilly the yellow can of sunscreen. ‘How about you do your legs?’

Footsteps crunched on the riverbank pebbles behind them. ‘The water’s safe,’ Kade said as he neared. ‘No logs.’

He opened the passenger-side door of the ute. In one fluid motion he grabbed the bottom of his grey tee and reefed it over his head. She focussed on Tilly as she squirted a blob of sunscreen into her hand and dabbed it over her left leg. She didn’t need to hang any more images of a semi-dressed Kade in her mental gallery.

‘Mia?’ Tanned shoulders caught the corner of her eye as Kade came to stand beside her.

‘Yes,’ she said, not looking up.

‘Can you please pass me the sunscreen?’

She nodded and reached for the can Tilly had left on the ute tray-back. She turned and forgot to breathe.

Last night Kade’s shirt had at least been partly on and he’d been shrouded in shadows. Now he wore little but low-slung black and red boardies and sunlight splashed over him, highlighting every toned ridge and every firm sinew.

She tossed him the can, praying her unsteady hand hadn’t lobbed it directly at his chin. ‘Here you go but be careful as the sunscreen can come out really fast.’

He caught the can and then squirted a blob the size of a golf ball into his palm. His brows shot skyward. ‘It’s green.’

Tilly grinned and lifted her left leg to reveal faint green smudges.

‘Don’t worry, Kade, you won’t resemble a Martian all morning,’ Mia said and rubbed at the blotches on Tilly’s leg until they disappeared into her pale skin.

He placed the can on the tray-back and began applying the green lotion to his chest. ‘Do you know what this stuff looks like? That Pirate Peppermint gelato we just ate.’

Tilly grabbed at the sunscreen. ‘I tan help you.’

Her old reliance on ‘t’ for ‘k’ snapped Mia out of whatever trance the hypnotic sweep of Kade’s hand over his skin had sent her into.

‘I c–an help you,’ Mia repeated. ‘I think your uncle has everything under control. If he needs help putting his sunscreen on, I’m sure he’ll ask.’

Tilly frowned and took her time to hand Kade the can. Mia smothered a smile. She could understand Tilly’s ire. With Tilly seated on the tray-back Kade’s torso was at her eye-level. To the four-year-old, Kade was a living canvas waiting to be decorated.

He squirted more sunscreen into his hand and then reached over his shoulder to rub it in.

‘You missed a bit,’ Tilly said, pointing between his shoulder blades. He rubbed at his back again. Tilly shook her head. ‘That way.’ She pointed to the right. He followed her directions. Tilly then pointed to the left.

Kade sighed. ‘At this rate we’ll never get into the water, let alone home by lunch. Okay Tilly, maybe you can help.’