Towing the tan Combat Roller Bag by the handle, the only outward sign of his military career apart from his no-nonsense stride and neatly cut hair, Blue strode through the international airport while scanning the faces of people hurrying past.
Everyone was intent on getting somewhere fast. So was he. Now if only his ride would get here on time, though knowing Luke that’d be a miracle. He probably should have asked Aaron. If he couldn’t make it, he’d have sent reinforcements.
But it was all good, he was on leave and didn’t have to hurry.
That knowledge didn’t decrease his pace, however.
Easily threading through the throng of people, he approached the big glass doors leading outside, exiting through them as they parted each side. Another glance around - no Luke.
Okay, he could either grab a coffee-to-go and wait, or ring his brother and find out just how far away he was. Grabbing a taxi would no doubt end with Luke ringing him back and abusing him for the wasted trip, but that’d be mildly amusing if he rang from the airport while Blue was sitting at home enjoying himself.
He’d no sooner decided to go back in and grab that cuppa than he was stopped by a horn hooting loudly behind him. Turning around, he spotted several things at once.
The big, dark blue ute that had just pulled up in the taxi zone had some new dents in it to go with the scratches, the sign across the door proclaimed ‘Wells Landscaping’, there was a big brindle mutt in the passenger seat looking around with his tongue hanging out, and the man in the driver’s seat was gesturing madly.
Probably because right behind him a taxi driver was tooting his horn angrily. Luke had parked in the taxi rank.
“Fair suck of the sauce bottle, mate!” Luke yelled out the driver’s door window. “This is an Army man I’m picking up! He fights for our country!”
“You’re in the bloody taxi rank!” the taxi driver yelled back.
“I know! I can read the sign!”
Laughing, Blue tossed the bag into the ute’s tray to join the shit-load of landscaping gear, swung open the door and shoved a delighted Dog over to sit in the middle so he could get into the passenger seat.
Another taxi driver impatiently tooted.
“Man.” Luke shook his head, his face wreathed in grins. “Look at you! All neat, short hair and looking like crap doesn’t stick to your soles. Which,” he leaned forward to study Blue’s black shoes, “are really nifty.”
“Good to see you, too.” Reaching across in front of Dog, Blue grabbed Luke’s hand.
For a second they debated each other, then grinned and hugged. The manly kind, with back slapping and gruff ‘Good to see ya, mate’ right before Dog joined in by giving Blue an enthusiastic lick up his cheek.
“Argh!” Blue drew back, laughing and scrubbing his face with a rag lying on the dashboard while giving Dog a pat.
About to say something, his brother glanced in the rear-view mirror. “Oops, better get a move on.” He slid on dark sunglasses.
As Luke put the ute in gear, indicated and pulled out onto the road, Blue twisted around to see through the back window the taxi driver conferring with a bystander who did not look happy. Catching his eye, she pointed angrily to her watch.
Grinning, he turned back around, fastening the seat belt before leaning back to rest his forearm on the open windowsill.
“So, how was the flight?” Luke asked.
“Seriously? That’s all you can ask?”
“I’m trying to be polite and thoughtful.”
“Since when?”
“You’re right. I don’t actually give a rat’s arse how your flight was. You got here in one piece so that’s good enough for me.”
Enjoying the warm breeze blowing through the open window, Blue watched the airport roads and buildings pass by.
Dog was avidly watching everything while trying to get the odd lick in on Blue, which Blue prevented by proceeding to scratch behind Dog’s ears, making the big brindle mutt go all gooey-eyed.
“How’re the wedding plans going?” Blue queried.
Luke looked pained. “It’s okay.”
“Your wedding plans.”
“Fine.”
Amused, Blue looked at him. “Getting much say?”
“That’s the problem. Mikki and her Mum keep dragging me in to look at things.”
“Look at things?”
“You know. Pictures of wedding cakes and suits and wedding invitations and shit.”
“Poor thing.”
“Bloody oath.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know. I’m just ignoring that fact.”
Blue laughed.
“It’s all right for you,” Luke retorted. “You’re not the one having to give an opinion.”
“I thought grooms wanted to be included but were left out?”
“That’s the way it’s supposed to be, isn’t it?”
“Apparently not.”
“There’s no need to break tradition.”
“You just want to turn up, put the ring on and leave for the honeymoon, don’t you?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Romance is dead in your soul, isn’t it?”
“Hey, I bought Mikki some roses just last week. Now that’s romance.”
“Who’d you steal them from?”
Luke glared at him.
Blue raised an eyebrow.
“I grew those roses. They are the best roses in Australia.”
“Got tickets on yourself.”
“On my roses. I know how to grow roses. Those roses are the bomb.”
“The bomb.”
“Yeah.”
“The bomb.”
“Are you deaf or something? Yes.”
“Where did you pick up that phrase?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I’m civilized? I read books?”
“You read gardening magazines.”
“So?”
“They have bombs in those magazines?”
“I’ll shove a bomb up your arse in a minute.”
“I’m your baby brother.”
“Fine. I’ll shove my foot up there - boot and all.”
“Now this,” Blue informed Dog, who slobbered happily in response, “is what I’ve missed. All this love and caring and stuff.”
Dog’s tongue hung out as he attempted to lean over Blue to reach the open window.
Blue pushed him back to the middle of the seat. “Yeah, not happening.”
“He just wants to smooch,” Luke said.
“He’s not my type.”
“Ooohh. That’s right, you’ve got Shona, haven’t you?” Pulling his sunglasses down his nose, Luke glanced over the tops at Blue. “The airline hostess.”
“Can you watch the road? ‘Cause I don’t want you to arse-end that truck.”
Luke laughed.
Blue thought about his platinum blonde girlfriend with legs that went for miles. “In fact, Shona and I have a date tomorrow night.”
“She’s in town? When Aunt Lora rang her about the family BBQ tonight, she said she was out of town.”
“She is. She’s currently in Tasmania, but she’s flying back in tomorrow morning and then she has a couple of days off.”
“Good thing you’ve got your own place now, because you wouldn’t get a girlfriend into your bedroom if you were still staying in Dad’s house, let me give you the tip.”
“I don’t need that tip, I know it for a fact.” Blue winced.
Man, the memory of being sprung by his father trying to sneak a girl into his room wasn’t pleasant. There he’d been, a horny sixteen year old stealthily ushering his current girlfriend in the back door after midnight, they’d just gotten to his bedroom door and the hall light had flared on to reveal his father standing there. One level look from those steady eyes had almost shrivelled him. His dad hadn’t said a word, just looked, and that was that. Blue had done an about-turn with his girlfriend in embarrassed tow and taken her home, returning home double-time. No one met him in the hallway this time, his dad had returned to bed, but the disappointment in his father’s eyes had hit Blue harder than any recriminations or yelling would have done. Dad had never mentioned it to him or Blue’s brothers, never brought the subject up, but Blue knew he’d crossed a line and that hadn’t sat well. He’d never made that mistake ever again, never brought a girl to his bedroom while he was home. It was a lesson learned.
Now, as the memory came back to him, he smiled slightly. He loved his father, respected him so much, and he looked forward to seeing him again. His mother had died when Blue was four years old, he only had a vague memory of her, but Dad had always been there to soothe his tears, wipe his snotty nose, fix up a bleeding knee from rough-housing, and taking them all to church on Sunday. He’d stood there amongst all the other parents cheering his sons on during sports, didn’t complain when he came home from work tired and dirty, simply piled whichever kid had something on that night and drove them where they had to go. He’d brought up two rather unruly sons and an older, steadier son, with kindness, respect and firmness. He only had a few rules but he expected them to be obeyed. And the boys obeyed.
Mind you, Mr Wells also had Aaron, Blue’s oldest brother, to help keep an eye on them, and Aaron was as quiet, controlled and firmly kind as him. He was also older than Luke by seven years and Blue by nine years, so for the younger brothers Aaron had always been the one who was there when Dad had to work, the one he and Luke turned to when Dad wasn’t around and things turned to shit, and like Dad, Aaron had sorted out the problem calmly.
Yeah, Blue might not have had a Mum, but he had a great family. And then, of course, Aunt Lora and Jason had turned up to live with them, and with Aunt Lora came feminine touches in an otherwise very masculine household. Their family had grown by two more, and though Aaron, Luke and Jason had eventually moved out and Blue joined the Army, it was nice to know his Dad had some company in his sister.
Rousing from his thoughts, he drew in a deep breath. “So, barbie tonight, huh?”
“You know Dad, he likes everyone to get together now and again. With you back, he has everyone he loves right there.”
“Aw, you used the love word.”
“Shit, I know. It’s being with Mikki. She messes with my head.”
“Your head was messed-up long before she came on the scene.”
“She’s messed it up more.”
“And yet you’re going to be wearing her ball and chain very soon.”
“She took my innocence. Dad made her.”
Blue snorted.
Luke just grinned.
“I’m looking forward to seeing Dad, spending a bit of time with him.” Blue patted Dog’s head now resting on his thigh.
“He’s knocking off at lunchtime so he can spend the afternoon with his baby boy,” Luke replied cheerfully. “He’s been as calm as usual, but you can tell he’s excited you’re home.”
“I’ll just drop my stuff off, shower and change, get the motorbike revved up and go straight over to him.” Blue looked at his brother. “Speaking of my place, how’s the new renter going?”
“No worries, mate. Place is spick and span, no parties, everything running smoothly.”
“Lucky to find someone like that.”
“Are you kidding me? Aaron ran a full check on Charley before the paperwork was signed. Nothing but a saint is going to rent your spare room, not to mention having the run of the house.”
“Good old Aaron.”
“Excuse me,” Luke said indignantly, “I’m the one who found your housemate first.”
“Did I ever thank you for that?”
“No, you wanker, you didn’t.”
“You have my heartfelt gratitude.”
“That’s more like it.”
“And Aaron my sincere one.”
“Up yours.” Luke flipped him the bird.
Blue laughed. “Will Charley be there when I get home?”
“No idea,” Luke replied cheerfully.
Not that it really mattered. He’d wanted someone decent to pay some rent on the house so that he had extra money to help pay the place off faster, and also for the security of having someone living in it while he wasn’t there, which was most of the time. But he’d wanted his own house, a feeling of setting down roots, a place to call his own when he came back on leave. Staying with his Dad was great, but he’d felt the need to get his own place. Buying the house was a good decision, getting a decent renter in an equally good one. Having his brothers choose the bloke renting the house was the best idea. No way would Aaron or Luke - or his Dad or cousin Jason, for that matter - have let anyone loose in his house who would steal from him or wreck the place.
“Charley does shift work,” Luke continued, “so the house’ll probably be empty when you get home.”
“Goodo.”
Okay, to be honest it would be nice to get home and have some time to himself before meeting his housemate. Still, if this Charley was there, he could deal with it. He’d been living in close quarters with fellow soldiers his entire career, so it wasn’t as if he wasn’t used to sharing space.
The next ten minutes passed peacefully, both of them chatting about things in general until finally Luke indicated and turned off the main road. A couple of turns later and they entered a quiet street with big trees lining the sides and older-style houses set back from the road.
“Here we go.” Luke turned into a driveway and pulled up. “Home sweet home.”
Blue stared at the house and yard. “Wow.”
“Yeah, the garden turned out good.” Luke waved a nonchalant hand at the landscaped garden. “It’s all reticulated, the plants drought-hardy.”
“Mate.” Blue looked at his brother with gratitude. “Thank you. The last time I saw this garden it was, well…no garden, actually.”
“You gave me free rein on it.” Luke shrugged. “It was good to be able to experiment.”
Yeah, and his landscaping brother had made sure it wasn’t just an easy-care garden, but a bloody good-looking one, too.
“Mate, I owe you.”
“You already paid, remember? Even when I didn’t want it.”
“Yeah, but all this work.” Blue shook his head.
“Now that I think of it, I do have a lot of shit to shovel around a quite substantial ground.” Luke grinned. “Have a couple of hours free on Thursday?”
Blue nodded. “Give me a shovel and I will shovel your shit.”
“That actually sounds a little wrong, but I accept.” Luke jerked his thumb at the picket fence. “Charley painted the fence, by the way. I can’t claim credit for that.”
Blue studied the white picket fence. “Nice.” He switched his attention back to the wooden house. The walls were a pale blue, the shutters a bright white. Even the security bars over the windows were decorative, straight but with distinct scrolling at the ends and painted white. Decorative but no doubt strong, as Aaron would have chosen them. The long veranda running along the front of the house had white poles and rails. The garage beside it was also painted pale blue with white roller doors. “The paint job turned out great.”
“Yeah, it did.” Resting his forearms on the steering wheel, Luke nodded. “Blue and white are classic colours, gives this baby that old-time feel.”
“Thanks, Luke.” Reaching over, Blue clapped him on the shoulder. “I knew I could count on you, Jason and Dad to bring this baby up to scratch. I managed to get some things done last time I was here, but it’d have taken me forever to get it this good. I can’t thank you enough.”
“Don’t worry, I have a lot of shit to shovel.”
Blue laughed.
They spent a couple more minutes chatting about the house before Blue opened the door. “I better get in and settled so I can go see Dad.” Retrieving the Combat Roller Bag from the back of the ute, he came around to the driver’s door to look in at his brother. “You coming in?”
“Wish I could, but I have to get back to the work site. That shit isn’t going to spread itself without my muscle.”
“Literal shit?”
“Bet your arse. Got the finest shit to spread around those plants, I promised Mrs Arkwell I’d get it done today.”
“Okay. Thanks, mate, really, for both the ride and what you did on the garden. I really do appreciate it.”
“Hey, no worries.” Luke gave him a friendly punch on the arm. “Good to see you again, Blue. We miss you.”
“Are you getting sloppy?”
“It’s Mikki’s fault. She’s messed with my head.”
Grinning, Blue watched as his brother pulled back out onto the road and drove off with a toot of the horn and a wave, Dog’s head hanging out the passenger window, his tongue and ears flapping in the breeze.
Walking up to the house, Blue looked around again, marvelling at the garden. Roses and geraniums in round garden beds, a climbing rose up a white trellis on the outside wall of the lounge room, and some large daisy bushes with nodding white heads. A small area of lawn interspersed with slate pavers. Small bushes lining the pathway.
Man, it looked good, the design and choice of flowers giving the house a very quaint, country feel. He liked it. While Luke was a joker, he was also a master landscaper, he knew what people liked, could see their visions, and he knew how to make those visions come to life. He was also a good adviser of plants to suit weather conditions and climate.
The paint job and the repairs on the house, though, that’d be his Dad and Jason’s doing. He’d left them a budget and an idea of what he wanted, and they’d done the house just as he’d envisaged it.
The veranda was polished wood on the floor, pot planters with what looked like some fancy-arsed flowers stood at each post, and there was an honest-to-goodness swing chair at the end.
Yeah, he really liked that. He could see himself sitting there, swinging away, watching the world go by while sipping on a tinnie.
Spotting the security camera high up in the veranda ceiling, he checked the lounge room window. Yep, there it was, a sticker strategically placed that announced ‘Wells Security’. Aaron had made sure that any crook thinking to do a B & E would first be hit with the knowledge that his every step was being monitored. That and the fact that the decorative bars on the windows made it virtually impossible to enter that way. The security screen made the doors a not-very easy target, either.
His house was pretty safe. If a crook really wanted to get in, he’d have to make a fair bit of noise - or carry a hell of a lot of gear to cut through things. By then, Wells Security would have arrived and the crook would be in a shit load of trouble.
Feeling grateful to his family, Blue unlocked the security screen and then the wooden door, giving it an experimental rap with his knuckles. Solid wood, not cheap hollow stuff, and the deadbolt and lock were sturdy.
Entering the hallway, he looked around. The floor was polished wood, the runner a deep blue. A vase of flowers stood on the hall sideboard next to a little cat statue that wasn’t his.
Obviously Aunt Lora had done some touches here, too. Poking his head into the lounge room, he saw that his heavy furniture still stood in the way he’d arranged, the only difference being that he hadn’t put two flower-patterned cushions on the sofa. Nor the vase of roses on the coffee table, or the little crystal ballerina statue on the mantelpiece. A small stack of books stood on a little table beside the armchair.
Charley must be a reader, because those books didn’t look like Blue’s. In fact…he walked over and picked one up, his eyes widening.
Charley was into…romance?
Blue blinked. Then a sudden thought hit him and he shook his head. Aunt Lora must have brought these in for some reason and forgot to take them back home. A little odd, but maybe she’d been bringing in other stuff and - well, whatever. He’d drop them back to her later.
Resuming his inspection, he checked out the rooms. The kitchen was warm and cosy, the curtains at the window yellow gingham, the clock on the wall a…sunflower? A sunflower? He hadn’t had a clock on the wall before, but somehow he just couldn’t imagine Jason picking out a sunflower clock. Or even Aunt Lora, her taste didn’t run to sunflower clocks.
Scratching his head, he started to wonder as his gaze travelled over the room. The furniture was still his, looked as good as when he’d first bought it which meant Charley was careful with it. But maybe Charley was more in touch with his feminine side than Blue was used to a man being, because that flower clock could only belong to someone not of his family, and that only left…Charley. There were a few other odd things he didn’t recognise, such as the dotted-patterned plate, cup and saucer in the draining board along with an up-turned glass bearing a big sunflower picture on the side. A magazine that was definitely a gossip rag lay on the table, along with a pretty pale blue placemat featuring a blue-flowered pattern.
Unless Mikki was stringing him along. That’d be just like her.
Or it really did belong to Charley. Maybe Charley’s girlfriend?
Staring at the clock, Blue decided that he couldn’t really complain about it because, hell, the man obviously respected other people’s stuff. Everything was indeed spick and span, as was proven when Blue checked out the bathroom, the toilet, his bedroom and the office where his computer sat atop an impressive desk. Even the library shelves containing his books didn’t have a speck of dust on them. In fact, the whole house had the faint scent of lemon polish, complimented by several little bottles of faint, sweet-smelling stuff that had some kind of thin stick things sticking out of them. Everything was in its place.
Aunt Lora’s doing? Or Charley’s? But geez, a bloke being so fussy? Was that even normal?
The only room that was shut was his roomie’s. Okay, Blue had to admit to being curious. Did he open it? Check inside? Part of him wanted to, part of him said it was an invasion of privacy. But then Charley had probably been the one who’d dusted his room - that was a little icky - and polished everything to within an inch of its life. Besides, it was Blue’s house, so surely he had a right to a little peek just to ensure his roomie wasn’t an utter pig in the privacy of his own bedroom.
Reaching out, he started to turn the knob, only to stop when the phone in the kitchen rang. Leaving his case in the hallway, he hurried to the kitchen to pick up the phone. “Hello?”
“Blue.”
Relaxing, Blue smiled at the sound of the deep voice. “Hey, Dad.”
“Son. It’s good to hear your voice.”
“Good to hear yours, too.”
“Luke said he got you home safely.”
“Yeah. I’m just going to unpack, have a shower and I’ll be right over to spend the arvo with you. Unless you have to go back to work?”
“One of the perks of being the boss, son. I can take the afternoon off if I want.”
Blue laughed.
“I’ll be waiting,” Mr Wells said. “Don’t hurry. Travel safe.”
“Will do, Dad. See you soon.” Blue hung up.
After hearing his Dad’s voice, he really wanted to get home and see him, spend time with him before the family descended. He loved his family, but his time with Dad he treasured. Everyone knew it, and everyone gave them space, just as they gave him space to settle in quietly before getting caught up in family greetings.
Best family ever.
Dropping his case on the bed, Blue unpacked quickly and efficiently. He hadn’t brought much, there was no need when he had clothes in the wardrobe and dresser. The book he was currently reading went beside the lamp on the bedside chest of drawers to continue tonight. No matter how tired he was, he always read even if it was only a couple of pages. Or a page. Or even half a page. It certainly wasn’t unusual to fall asleep reading.
Going to the bathroom across the hall, he placed his toilet bag on the counter and started putting a few things out - shaver, deodorant, comb, toothbrush and toothpaste. Opening the sink above the cupboard, his eyebrows shot up at the sight of the small container of lavender powder, the distinctly girly deodorant, the brush and several hair ties, and a small bottle of perfume all on the left side, leaving the right side empty.
What the hell? Did Charley have a girl regularly staying overnight? And where the hell was Charley’s man stuff?
Scratching his head, Blue shut the little cupboard and surveyed his face in the mirror. His expression was as puzzled as he felt.
Shaking his head, he bent down and opened the cupboard beneath the sink to get out a towel, his hand coming first into contact with a small box. Curiously, he brought it out, only to drop it like a hot potatoe.
Holy crap! Tampons! There was a box of tampons in his cupboard!
Gingerly returning it to the shelf, he straightened and turned to see a small cupboard in the corner of the bathroom that hadn’t been there before. Made of white wicker, it was distinctly feminine as far as he was concerned. It also contained pale yellow towels, face washers and bath mats. He checked back under his cupboard - yep, his navy blue towels and stuff were in there.
Maybe Charley was letting his girlfriend introduce a few things. Hmmm, have to find out just how often this sheila stays at my place. When he’d wanted someone to rent the spare bedroom with the privilege of using the rest of the house, live in it when he wasn’t here, he hadn’t envisaged a woman moving in with his housemate. He hadn’t wanted a couple, just a nice renter living alone. He didn’t mind Charley having someone in now and again, even staying the night, but not permanently.
Maybe the whicker cupboard was from Aunt Lora. But she wouldn’t have brought it in without asking him, she wasn’t that presumptuous. Or maybe it had been a gift to Charley from his girlfriend. Along with yellow towels?
Definitely something to look into - and he could sneakily start by peeking into Charley’s room after his shower, see if a woman had moved in with him. But then Aaron would have noticed, right?
Wondering if he was reading too much into things, Blue retrieved one of his towels, noting with relief that it smelled clean, not prissy with scented softener. That just might have tipped him over the edge a little.
Almost as much as the cake of lavender soap he found in the soap dish when he got in the shower.
Frowning a little, he dumped his cake of manly soap atop it, turned on the water and showered.
Jesus, Charley even had strawberry shampoo. Girlfriend again? Or maybe he was gay. Or maybe he just liked strawberry shampoo. Or maybe he just bought whatever was on special and didn’t really care. It was just shampoo, right?
But now Blue was starting to wonder just how many people were living in this house. He only wanted one. One renter with an occasional visitor or overnight stayer, but that was it.
Shaking his head, he decided to shelve the troubling thoughts. Besides, he was confident that Aaron would never allow anything to go on in this house that Blue had strictly left instructions about. He’d meet Charley today at some stage and could find out how often this girlfriend stayed over.
Plan made, Blue showered, shampooed and shaved the light growth already showing on his jaw. The flight had been long with a change of flight halfway. After drying off, feeling better already, he applied deodorant, ran his fingers through his short hair - leaving it sticking up all over the place - wrapped the towel loosely around his hips and left the bathroom.
And immediately collided with a figure hurrying down the hallway. His foot slipped as his legs tangled with another pair, the momentum of the woman - he had just enough time to register that - shoving him off-balance. Wildly he grabbed for two things - his slipping towel with one hand, the door frame with the other.
Too bad neither worked.
Blue fell back on his arse, then his shoulders hit the floor. Only quick reflexes managed to keep his noggin from slamming onto the floor boards.
The woman fell right on top of him, momentarily knocking the breath from him. For several seconds he lay there flat on the floor, becoming rapidly conscious of several things at once.
She smelled good, all sweet and flowery.
She was very curvy, her softness pressing rather deliciously against his harder frame.
She was warm.
She also had a bountiful bosom that right now was pressed against his face. Even through the blouse he could feel the warm softness of those breasts.
“Cripes!” the woman exclaimed, startled, while starting to struggle up.
Regaining his senses, Blue grabbed each side of her ribcage to help her into an upright position.
Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she pushed back. His face was momentarily covered by a thick swathe of silky hair before the heavy curtain lifted away and he found himself in another not-quite-good-but-not-quite-bad position.
Now the unknown woman was straddling his hips, her bent knees hugging his lean waist. Looking up at her, he was immediately taken by a pair of big brown eyes staring down at him in mortification. A pert little nose lay beneath those eyes, below that some incredibly lush lips that even now were babbling apologies.
“Oh geez, I’m so sorry. I’m so clumsy! This is - I didn’t - bum!”
Shit, this had to be Charley’s girlfriend. And she was straddling him. And worse, he didn’t mind. Hell, what red-blooded man would mind? This very curvy, very pretty sheila was straddling his hips, piquing his interest. In fact, he could felt that rush of warmth from her soft thighs to his shaft.
But nope, this was all wrong. So wrong. This was some other man’s girlfriend. His lodger’s girlfriend, in fact. Nope, not going there. Plus he himself had a girlfriend, so having any kind of interest in this woman was a no-go.
“It’s okay,” Blue began. “Just hop up and-”
“So very sorry.” She used the wall for support as she rather awkwardly scrambled upright.
Blue followed swiftly and a lot more awkwardly when he found himself fisting the towel in front of his rapidly interested male appendage - damn thing! - while trying to stop the towel falling off completely and thereby baring his naked arse to the woman. As soon as he was up, he had his backside plastered against the wall like some kind of virgin at an orgy.
“Ummm.” The woman was looking up at the ceiling. “Yes, well…”
“Sorry.” He scrabbled with his other hand to get the towel securely wrapped around his hips.
“Nah, its fine.” She tucked a shoulder-length lock of honey-blonde hair behind her ear, smiled, glanced briefly at him, and blushed just a little before spinning around. “I’ll get the kettle on. Coffee or tea?”
“Ah…black tea.” Watching her quick departure, Blue couldn’t help but watch the sway of those shapely hips. Man, she was all curves.
As soon as she disappeared around the corner, he regained his senses and retreated to his bedroom. Throwing on jocks, jeans, t-shirt and sneakers, he ran a comb through his damp hair, stuck his wallet and keys in his back pocket, and headed back to the kitchen.
Though he was looking forward to seeing his Dad, he had agreed to a cuppa first. Okay, it was mainly because he’d been a little taken-aback, but he was brought up to mind his manners so he’d have the cuppa before he left.
Entering the kitchen, he saw a mug on the bench with a tea bag in it, while an icy tin of Diet Coke stood beside it, condensation running down the outside to be soaked up in the tissue folded beneath it. Already pouring hot water into the mug, the woman glanced up briefly with a smile.
Not seeing a bloke around, Blue opened a jar with ‘Biccies’ scrawled on the side and surveyed the assortment of cream biscuits inside. “Where’s Charley?”
“Pardon?”
Choosing several biccies, he held the jar out to her in silent invitation. “Charley.”
“Charley.” Rather than accept the invitation, she stared at him. “Uh…here?”
“You don’t know?” He waggled the jar encouragingly.
“Don’t know what?”
Maybe she wasn’t as bright as she looked. “If your boyfriend is here.”
“Boyfriend?”
Oh, definitely a few ‘roos short in the top paddock. “Your boyfriend, Charley.”
Her eyebrows went up in surprise, then lowered in puzzlement.
As Blue watched the dance of the eyebrows, she suddenly smiled widely - really widely, a sparkle filling the warm brown eyes as she plucked out a biscuit. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“What?” He froze in the process of screwing on the jar lid.
“Well, I kind of do.”
“Kind of,” he repeated. “You and Charley have a fight?” In which case, what the hell was she doing in his house? He certainly didn’t want to get involved with a fighting couple in his house. And he certainly didn’t want a couple fighting in his house.
“I mean,” she replied, “I’m Charley.”
“What?”
“I’m Charley.”
“You’re who?”
“Charley.”
“You’re Charley?”
Holding out a hand, she nodded. “Charlotte Carter. Charley for short.”
Struck dumb for several seconds, Blue stared at her, then down at her hand. Finally, he reached out to engulf her much smaller one in his large paw and shook gingerly. “Charley.”
“Your lodger.”
“Lodger.” Now he sounded like the idiot.
“You’re Blue Wells.” Charley didn’t seem to mind his idiotic echoing. “Mikki told me a bit about you.”
“She did?” Releasing her hand, Blue sat on one of the high stools and looked politely interested - he hoped - while subtly checking out Charley, his female lodger.
“Well, some. You’re a soldier, you’re Luke’s baby brother, you come home now and again.” Taking a sip of Diet Coke, she studied him frankly over top of the tin. “It’s pretty obvious you also had no idea that I was female.”
“Sorry.” Realising how he must still be staring at her, Blue shook his head, reached for the mug, took a fortifying sip of hot tea before regarding her just as frankly over the rim, narrowing his eyes a little as steam curled up from the hot liquid. “I kind of expected my lodger to be a bloke. You took me by surprise.”
“So I gathered. Is it a problem?”
Was it? Blue continued to study her. He’d expected a bloke, had just presumed his brothers would find a male lodger, especially knowing he’d be sharing the house when he was on leave. In fact, why hadn’t Aaron or Luke told him? Or had they presumed he already knew? Definitely a question he’d be asking at tonight’s family gathering.
Charley continued to sip at the Diet Coke while waiting patiently for him to formulate a reply.
Realising how rude he must seem - geez, his Dad would have given him one of those looks if he knew - Blue lowered the mug to the counter and glanced around the kitchen. Everything tidy, everything in its place. Did it really matter that his lodger was female?
Actually, no, it didn’t. In fact, as long as she kept his home as well cared for as she obviously had done, Blue didn’t mind at all. Yep, he did have some reservations about bathroom sharing, but apart from that he was sure he could ignore the tampons under the sink.
He smiled slightly. “It’s all good.”
“It is?”
“Yep.”
She visibly relaxed. “Thank goodness for that. I was starting to think I’d have to look for a new place to rent.”
“No need.” Blue took a mouthful of biccie. “So, what do you do for a crust, Charley?”
“I’m a nurse.”
“Which hospital?”
“Nursing home, actually.”
“Which nursing home?”
“The one a mile up the road.”
A quick mental search and Blue locked onto the big, sprawling nursing home. “Oh yeah. Blue tiled roof, high fence?”
“That’s the one.”
He dunked a second biccie in the hot tea. “So, how did my brothers find you?”
“Mikki. I’m friends with her.” Charley leaned folded arms on the counter.
Okay, that did impressive things to her generous bosom. Squidged up by her arms, they swelled nicely onto the bench top.
Which he certainly had no business noticing because he had a girlfriend. And Charley had a boyfriend.
Blue manfully kept his gaze on her face. “Oh?”
“Well, friends with her now,” Charley amended. “Friendly. Her Aunt Elspeth knows my Mum, and when Elspeth heard that I was looking for a place to stay after coming home from travelling, she mentioned it to Mikki. It just happened that Luke and Aaron were looking for someone to rent your house.” She paused. “Room, I mean.”
“Renting the room with use of the house,” Blue confirmed.
“Yep.”
Leaning his forearms on the counter, he glanced up at the sunflower clock. “Yours?”
“Yep.”
“This explains a lot.” He started to laugh quietly.
“It does?”
“The scented bottles with the sticks, the feminine touches.”
“Ah.”
“I was starting to think that Charley was in touch with his feminine side.”
Her eyes twinkled. “I like to think I’m in touch with my feminine side.”
“My other theory,” Blue said, enjoying her amusement, “was that Charley had a girlfriend staying over.”
“Nope.”
“Obviously.” He cradled the mug between his hands. “So, boyfriend, huh?”
“Yes.” She glanced at her wristwatch. “In fact, I have a date tonight. I need to run out and get a couple of things first.” She looked at him. “Anything you want picked up from the shops?”
“Nah, I’ll do a mosey down there tomorrow.” Straightening, Blue drained the last of the tea from the mug before pushing to his feet. “I’m heading out to my Dad’s now. I’ll see you around.”
Soft drink tin in hand, Charley walked around the bench and started for the hallway. “Have a nice time.”
“You, too.” Rinsing the mug in the sink, Blue added, “It was nice to finely meet you.”
Turning, she walked backwards as she gave him another bright smile, little lines crinkling engagingly at the corners of her eyes, those cute apple cheeks a faint pink. “I pass muster, Sir?”
Amused, he saluted. “You pass muster.”
With a laugh, she swung around on her heel and left.
Blue found himself watching the gentle sway of rounded hips beneath the light, flowing, flower-patterned pants, the sunshine yellow cotton of her top loose for the summer heat though it was nice inside the house.
He had to admit that his impression of his housemate was bright and sweet. Charley might not be a bloke - as far from a bloke as one could get, in fact - but from what he’d seen so far, they’d get on just fine.
Feeling immensely better, he placed his mug in the draining board and headed out to the garage. Opening the door, he noted what was obviously Charley’s little yellow five door car parked on one side. Next to it stood his old Holden ute, battered and having seen better days. It had been his first car and he’d never bothered trading it in for anything flashier or newer when he only drove it while home on leave. What drew him was his pride and joy parked behind the ute.
Carefully folding back the heavy tarp, he revealed the big Honda VFR800X motorcycle, running his hands lovingly over the cool lines, the sleekness calling to him. Across the seat was his leather jacket, atop which sat the helmet.
The motorbike was clean, and he was grateful to his family for ensuring someone took it for a spin at least once a month. It was either Aaron or Jason, because Luke just wasn’t into motorcycles, had never gotten a license to drive one. He much preferred his work ute and plants.
Go figure.
Donning the leather jacket despite the heat - he’d seen enough torn skin from bike accidents to last a lifetime, bearing a scar down the back of one arm from his I-Know-Better days - Blue carefully backed the heavy bike out of the garage and pointed it towards the gate, shutting the garage door before he swung his leg over the motorbike and settled onto the seat with a contented sigh. The engine rumbled powerfully to life and he sucked in a deep breath, enjoying the feel of sunshine warming him, the bike between his thighs, the power at his fingertips. The freedom.
Donning the helmet, he flipped the visor down and placed his hands on the handles. So easy to flick it into gear and give it some throttle, the motorcycle moving smoothly along the driveway as he guided it to the road, then he turned onto it, gave it more throttle and leaned into the bike.
Within minutes he was roaring down the highway, the wind spearing past him, the road’s lines flashing beneath the tyres.
Grinning widely, he basked in it. Freedom. Freedom from fighting, freedom from nerves, freedom from wondering if an armed assault was going to flare up, freedom from patrolling.
Freedom. And peace.
But as much as he loved riding the powerful machine, loved the freedom, there was one other that he wanted - needed - to see more.
Ten minutes later he was throttling down, turning onto a familiar street, straightening as he slowed, indicated and pulled into the driveway behind the big work truck with ‘Wells Handyman and Building Services’ printed on the back and sides.
Dad was home.
Switching off the bike, he took off the helmet, spearing fingers through his short hair as he looked at the big, old, ramshackle house where he’d grown up. It had been home for as long as he could remember, was still home. Back at base, in his room, he had a photo that went everywhere with him. It was of him, Luke, Aaron and his dad sitting on the front steps of this house.
Kicking out the stand, Blue swung his leg over the bike and straightened, the helmet loose in one hand.
At the same instance the front door opened and a big, tall, broad-shouldered man came down the steps of the house.
Dad.
Striding forward, Blue met his father partway. Stopping before him, Blue simply hugged him. Hard.
Blue was muscular, the need of an Army soldier to keep fit ensuring he worked-out regularly, but the strength in the arms surrounding him now, the heavy muscles of the chest against which he was pulled, were from sheer hard work. Work-roughened hands held him close.
Heck, Dad even smelled like work. Sweat, dirt, honest work of a handyman and builder.
Blue hugged him harder, closed his eyes, uncaring who saw them. After the shit he’d seen, all he wanted was to hug his Dad after so many months of absence. He had to swallow the lump in his throat, but he sure as hell wasn’t embarrassed by it.
Without saying a word, Mr Wells hugged him harder in turn.
Neither had to say anything, not when their embrace said it all.
Finally, Blue pulled back. “Hey, Dad.”
“Son.” Big hands came out to settle on his shoulders as Mr Wells studied his face keenly. “You’re looking okay.”
“I try.”
Mr Wells laughed softly, turning to sling a brawny arm around Blue’s shoulders. “Come on. Your aunt cooked chocolate cake for you. I’ll put the kettle on for a cuppa.”
“Did she put chocolate chips in the cake?”
“Of course.”
“And chocolate icing?”
“When has she never for you?”
“Just checking.” Blue’s mouth was already salivating.
Once inside, Mr Wells veered off into the kitchen while Blue placed his helmet on the hall sideboard and followed more slowly, allowing the familiar scents, sounds and sights of home fill him as he walked. He marvelled at how nothing had changed, it was still big, old, filled with dark furniture broken by the feminine touches of floral curtains and cushions and vases of flowers, but otherwise still the same. From the lounge room the grandfather clock chimed the hour just as it had done since he could remember.
Already feeling the contentment of being home settle into his bones, Blue entered the kitchen to spend private time catching up with his Dad before the rest of the family descended in a couple of hours.
~*~
Oh boy.
Standing at the window, peeking around the curtain, Charley watched Blue swing astride the big motorcycle and slide the helmet over his head.
What was it about a man on a motorbike? They always looked so cool, so controlled, so capable…so bad boy.
The powerful motorcycle turned onto the road, the engine roared and rider and machine disappeared from sight.
Letting the little edge of curtain fall back into place, she let out her breath in a long gust. Oh yeah, she’d seen photos of Blue, the youngest of the Wells brothers, with his piercing blue eyes, square jaw and short, dark hair, but seeing him in the flesh was a whole other ball game. The boy-next-door handsomeness had a slight hardness about it, an assuredness of a man who’d seen a lot, worked a dangerous career defending his country, and still smiled.
Not to mention being pressed against his almost nude, very muscular and warm body was a totally unexpected and undeniably yummy experience. Little goose bumps spiralled down her arms. No way was she going to forget that in a hurry. Blue Wells had felt good, looked good, and for one delicious moment he’d been between her thighs.
Not in the carnal sense. Too bad.
“Uncool, Charley,” she muttered. “You’ve got a boyfriend. Not only that, but you are way out of Blue’s league. You’ve seen the photo of his girlfriend.”
Nope, he was her landlord and that was that. Meeting him in such a manner had simply thrown her off-track, that was all.
Speaking of which, she had to go shopping for a new dress for the dinner tonight. Gary was out to impress his work colleagues and she had to hold up her end of it, as he’d so nicely said along with a kiss to her cheek. No way could she let him down.
Grabbing her shoulder bag, she locked the house and drove into the city, parking and hurrying to her favourite dress shop.
Inside, she stood to the side and glanced around, chewing her bottom lip a little indecisively.
Almost immediately a voice from within the depths of the shop asked, “Looking for something in particular?”
“Phoebe,” Charley answered in relief. “I need help.”
“Oh, honey, you finally admitted it.”
“Har-de-har har.”
“Your openness about it warms my heart.”
“Your comments, they make me laugh.”
“Laughing at one’s mistakes is so freeing.”
“Freeing is finding a dress for tonight.”
“That’s my cue.” Phoebe appeared from behind a rack of assorted shiny blouses.
The woman never failed to make Charley smile. Phoebe’s greying hair was bundled up in a lop-sided bun, a pen stuck out the top of it like a sagging ship mast, and her slacks almost dragged on the carpet, the hem saved from the floor by the platform sandals she wore. Her blouse draped across an almost non-existent bosom that didn’t phase Phoebe one bit, nor did she care that the blouse was low-cut and hung off her bony shoulders.
Phoebe didn’t seem to have a certain style of dress, sometimes appearing more like a housewife from the sixties, other times bordering on hippie, while being impeccably groomed the next time you saw her. Phoebe had a style all her own, and it was simply whatever took her fancy.
In keeping with this, the clothes in her shop reflected a wide variety of styles and sizes, from petite to plus-size, from soft to brassy, from sleek to wild child. Leather jackets weren’t far from satin boleros, while leather pants were racked beside neat pants suits. Split skirts stood proudly beside peasant style skirts, with primly pleated skirts right next door, while sloppy cardigans nodded amicably at the smart two pieces.
Going into Phoebe’s shop was akin to entering a wonder world of clothes, and most days she was busy with all sizes and ages of women coming and going through her doors.
“Tell me what you need.” Phoebe paused, stuck one finger in the air, and pursed her today-painted-dark-red lips. “No. Tell me what you want.”
Charley glanced around. “Today I need a dress that will impress.”
“Slutty?”
“Geez. I mean impress a gathering of business people.”
“Business suit.”
“Dinner.”
“Ohh, hoity-toity.”
“Very possibly.”
“Hence the need and not a want.”
The woman knew her too well. Charley followed her between the racks. “Hey, I might want something hoity-toity, did you ever think of that?”
Phoebe just cast her a wry look over her shoulder.
Charley’s eyes widened. “Hey, when did you get a tattoo on your shoulder?”
“I’ve had it forever.”
“Liar. I’d have noticed.”
“Last week.”
“It’s a baby angel. Aw, sweet.”
“Cherub. I’ve got a baby devil on my hip.”
“That’s disturbing.”
Phoebe flashed her a grin. “Story of my life. Angel on the outside, devil on the inside.”
“Whatever makes you sleep better at night.”
“Who says I sleep at night? Some of us have better things to do than just sleep all the time.” Stopping at a rack, Phoebe started going through the dresses.
“Baying at the moon?” Charley glanced over the dresses. “Running naked along the highway?”
“I’ve run naked in the moonlight, but never bayed at it.”
“Really?”
“Honey, I’ve done things in my youth that would make your hair curl.”
“Do tell.”
“Let’s just say I never regretted a second of it. Now,” Phoebe cut her gaze to Charley, “you may have regrets.”
“From my youth?”
“You’re not old yet.”
“Are you saying you are?”
“I’m saying someone is getting perilously close to a slap.”
Charley laughed.
Phoebe gave her a hard look. “What I’m saying is that youth is fleeting, life is fast. You need to fill it with good things, not keep trying to impress others who don’t deserve it.”
“Come on, Phoebe, Gary isn’t that bad.”
“He’s not that good, either.”
“He’s different.”
“Sometimes different is good.”
“That’s right.”
“And sometimes different just needs to be stomped on.”
“Okay, moving right on to the dress…?”
Giving her head a little shake, Phoebe returned to the garments in question.
Charley breathed a silent sigh of relief. Her friend had no problem with airing her opinion about Gary, and normally Charley could laugh it off, but just lately… With another silent sigh, she returned her attention to the dresses.
“Now, how about this?” Phoebe pulled a gown from the rack and held it up.
Oh yes, it was pretty. Powder blue with a slit up the thigh. “Not really me.”
“It’d make Gary look.”
Not in a good way. He wouldn’t want to see her thigh bared for all to see, that’s for sure. She wasn’t even certain he wanted to see her thigh. Ever.
Maybe in the dark.
“You’re frowning. Frowning isn’t a good sign.” Phoebe put the gown back, pulled out another. “How about this?”
“Do you have anything that isn’t going to show my chubby bits?”
“You don’t hide your curves, honey, you display them.”
“My curves are more generous than most people want to see.”
“Gary tell you that?” Phoebe huffed.
Gary, in fact, didn’t mention anything about Charley’s curves.
“Proves my point,” Phoebe said at her silence.
“Which is?” A flash of yellow caught Charley’s attention and she reached out to touch a gown peeking out from behind the shelter of a crisp, white satin sheath.
“Men like curves. Gary isn’t a man.”
“I’m pretty sure he’s got the dangly bits that deem him male.”
“Real men like curves.”
“Those real men aren’t beating my door down.”
“So you’re making do with Dangly Bits Gary?”
“Phoebe-”
“Because that’s all sorts of wrong. All sorts of wrong.”
“Phoebe-”
“I’m telling you, honey, there’s a man out there somewhere who’ll like you not just for your curves, but for you. In fact, the right man won’t care if you have curves or a skinny arse, he’ll think you’re gorgeous just the way you are.”
“Gary hasn’t said he doesn’t like my curves.”
“Has he pinched your arse?”
No. He’d never pinched or caressed her generous bum. “He’s never been anything but a gentleman.” Which was better, right? It meant he respected her. “He respects me.”
Phoebe stared at Charley for a very long five seconds before shaking her head.
“Can we please just find me a dress?” Desperate to get her friend off the subject of Gary, Charley pulled out the yellow gown.
She couldn’t hide her gasp of delight as she held it up. It was beautiful. Bright yellow, spaghetti straps, fitted bodice dropping into a full, flowing skirt that draped down elegantly.
“Ah!” Phoebe’s eyes lit up. “Now that’d be prefect.”
But it was too bright. Charley chewed her bottom lip as she surveyed the sunshine-coloured dress. Man, she loved yellow. Loved the colour of this gown, loved the style, but her shoulders weren’t slim and elegant, they were soft and round, and her waist, though small enough to give her a generous hour-glass figure, wasn’t anywhere near dainty.
“It’s your size.” It was as though Phoebe could read her mind.
“The colour-”
“You love yellow.”
“Yes, but…”
“Gary doesn’t.” Phoebe threw up her hands. “Is Dangly Bits Gary going to wear it?”
“Of course not.”
“Is he paying for it?”
“I am.”
“So why is he getting such a big say?”
“He’s my boyfriend.”
“Does he dress to please you? Does he only wear what you deem correct?”
“No. But that’s not the issue.” Regretfully, Charley started to return the dress to the rack. “It’s a dinner to impress his business partners.”
“And this dress will impress. You’ll shine in it.” Grabbing it, Phoebe hooked her hand through Charley’s elbow and dragged her to the fitting room. “Try it on.”
“This is a waste of time-” But I want to so bad.
“Try it on.” Throwing open the fitting room door, Phoebe unceremoniously shoved Charley inside and threw the dress at her.
“Phoebe!” Fumbling, Charley caught it to her chest.
The door slammed shut. “Try it on. Now.”
Charley looked from the gown to the door and back to the gown. It was pretty, so pretty. The material was satin on top, the flowing skirt a lacy overlay atop the satin. Bright yellow.
Okay, she could just try it on. Why not? Have one peek before she sought something more sedate. Just to appease Phoebe. Besides, it might not even fit properly.
Charley rolled her eyes as she undressed. Who was she kidding? She was dying to try on this sunshine dress.
Minutes later, she looked in the mirror and sighed. Sooo pretty, and it fit so well. The satin bodice cupped her breasts and skimmed her waist, the skirt falling so sweetly down over her legs to barely skim the floor. The pair of black high heels and the little yellow satin clutch she had at home would be a perfect match. Now all she needed was-
“Here! Catch!”
It was all the warning she got before something soft and white flew over the stall door to land on her head.
Holding it up, she saw it was a very dainty, thin, lacy shawl. Draping it across her shoulders, she amended silently - white clutch, white high heels.
“See?” Phoebe called out. “Yellow for you and white to tone it down for Dangly Bits Gary. What’s not to like?”
Considering her reflection in the mirror, Charley chewed her bottom lip. The white lace shawl did tone the yellow down, no doubt about that-
“No thigh split to shock his prudish senses,” her friend continued. “Come on, Charley, you know you want it.”
Well, yes. In fact, she loved it. But…
“Vrrroooooommmm!” Phoebe roared. “Know what that sound is, Charley?”
“A car? And why?”
“It’s your youth flashing by. One day you’ll be old and wrinkled and decrepit, and all you’ll be thinking was ‘I could have had that lovely yellow gown’. You want to be that old lady, Charley? Or do you want to be the old lady that says “I had that gown and damn, I loved it!’”
Geez, who could argue with that? “Sold.”