Enemy Lovers (9 page)

“I'm not happy about you and James.”

“Exactly why you should come to dinner to meet him. Imagine how James's boyfriend must feel knowing that James considered marrying me.”

“I would've kicked James's prissy ass, packed my bags and told him to fuck off.”

Laura chuckled. “Me too.”

“Okay, I'll go for dinner with you. Meet James.”

Laura squeezed his hand in silent gratitude. “I'll ring James and make arrangements. He said they'll fit in with me. When's your next day off?”

“I can do Wednesday.”

“Okay, I'll ring James in a moment. I'm too comfortable to move right now.”

“And you're too busy,” he said, twisting to reach for another condom.

Laura had told him to dress for comfort, which to him meant jeans. In deference to the occasion, he'd gone with his best pair, a cream shirt and boots. Now he was nervous and second guessing himself, wondering if he should have dressed in black trousers. He grabbed his truck keys before he turned girlie and tried another outfit.

“Who put the chili powder in your boxer-briefs?” Patrick asked.

“Aren't you meant to be working the bar?”

“It's quiet at the moment. Gloria will ring if she needs help. Will you be back tonight?”

Dallas spat out a curse but it was only a momentary release of his frustration and angst. “No, I'm having a sleepover. See you later.” He grabbed his wallet, thrust his arms into his leather jacket and left before he committed the cardinal sin of asking his brother's opinion of his attire.

Laura was waiting with the doorman when he pulled up. She smiled at the elderly man and ran out to climb into the passenger side of his truck.

“Laura, next time wait for me to open your door. It's part of my job description.”

“Oh. Okay. Do you need directions to James's house?”

“What's the street? I'll plug it into the GPS.”

Twenty minutes later, he drove down the Cape Hill Street and pulled up outside number one hundred and one.

James answered the door, doing a double take when he recognized Dallas. To his credit, he didn't refuse him entry.

“James, I believe you know Dallas O'Grady,” Laura said.

“I do,” James said, extending his hand.

Dallas let out his breath in a slow stream and accepted the offer of friendship. “James is the same age as Quinn,” he said to Laura. “They were in the same class.”

Aware of another man standing in the doorway, Dallas glanced in that direction.

“This is my boyfriend, Steven,” James said, nodding at both Dallas and Laura.

“Hi Steven,” Laura said, and she gave him a swift, friendly hug.

“I'm pleased to meet you,” Dallas said, “but I'm not hugging either of you.”

There was a moment of stunned silence before Steven laughed, a low, hearty chuckle that soon had them laughing together in a release of tension.

“Are you frightened you'll catch gay cooties?” Laugh crinkles at the corners of James's eyes told Dallas he wasn't upset.

“I don't hug people I don't know,” Dallas said. “Give it a week or two and you might surprise one out of me.”

“Come into the lounge,” Steven said. “It's much warmer in there.”

James dispensed beers for Dallas and Steven while James and Laura went for a glass of wine. Dallas was also pleased to see that if he'd gone with his second instinct to wear his good trousers, he would've been out of place. Even Laura wore a pair of faded jeans along with a cream polo neck jumper.

Laura took a place on a leather two-seater, and Dallas sat beside her. James dropped into a chair while Steven stood in front of the fire, his broad shoulders tense even though his face wore a smile.

“I take it your families don't know about your friendship,” James said. “I would have heard the fallout by now.”

“No, we're taking things slowly,” Laura said.

“Secrets have a way of sneaking back to bite in the bum,” James said.

“We know that.” Dallas reached for Laura's hand, lacing their fingers together. “Sometimes the heart doesn't choose wisely, but that doesn't mean it's wrong.”

“Hear hear,” Steven said. “How come your families wouldn't approve?”

“It's a long story,” Laura said. “But basically—correct me if I'm wrong—Dallas, two of our ancestors came over to the Otago goldfields and staked a claim. So the story goes, one of them found a big nugget of gold and cut the other one out.” She glanced at Dallas. “Is that right?”

He nodded. “My family would say your family stole it since you have a flash house and they don't.”

“What do you say?” James asked.

“I say it happened generations ago and it's silly letting the past interfere with what Laura and I have.”

“I hope things work out between you,” James said.

“But?” Dallas asked.

James shrugged and cast an apologetic glance at Laura before he answered. “Laura's mother won't approve, and the rest of the family will take their cue from her.”

“We know,” Laura said. “But honestly, it's time things were done differently in our family. Mother doesn't have the right to direct my life.”

“So you're with Dallas to punish your mother,” Steven said.

“No. I would never drag Dallas into my personal battles. Our meeting was a fluke, and things went from there. Dallas is the man I always wished I'd meet.” Laura's voice was firm and decisive. “If it comes to a confrontation, I'll be the one facing my mother and the rest of my family. Not Dallas.”

“And if they give you an ultimatum? Withdraw their support?” Steven asked, his face intent on Laura.

Dallas wanted to protest the personal questions, except he'd like to know the answers. And he received the impression Steven was subtly asking the same questions of James. Dallas pretended a casual ease he didn't feel.

“There lies the sticky point. My parents still give me an allowance. They pay for the apartment where I live. I've started working for a temp agency, and I'm searching for a full time job. I'm trying to save money and live entirely on my earnings. When I decided I wanted more independence, I made a budget, and I'm managing to stick to my self-imposed allowance.”

“That's very forward-thinking of you.”

“I might be young, but I'm not stupid. I know my parents. They'll make threats. I wanted to prepare myself.”

Pride swelled in Dallas, and he smiled at her. “I didn't realize.”

“There's no reason you should,” Laura said. “Millions of people live on a restricted income and budget. If they can do it, so can I. It's no point talking the talk if I don't walk the walk.” She winked at him when James groaned.

Across the room, Steven chuckled. “I was prepared to hate you, but instead you've charmed the socks off me. If James needs a female date for a function, and Dallas is agreeable, then I'm onside too. What do you think, Dallas?”

“I'll need details of each event, and Laura will have to pay a forfeit.” Judging by Laura's widening eyes, his expression had morphed into big, bad wolf.

“Dallas.” Delicate color crept into her cheeks. She wriggled as if she were feeling the prickles of a good spanking. He wanted to laugh, to tell her this was the start and there were lots of other devious ways to exact sensual punishment.

“Forfeit?” Steven asked.

James's gaze went from Dallas to Laura and back. “Oh,” he said. “Did you know Steven plays rugby for the local fifteen? He's good.”

“What sort of forfeit?” Steven repeated, his gaze filling with speculation. “Are you talking about sex?”

“Yes, he's talking about sex,” James said.

“Oh, maybe Dallas and I should have a chat,” Steven said.

Laura chuckled, and the humor spread, setting the tone for the rest of the visit. When they said their goodbyes and walked out to his vehicle, Dallas wrapped his arm around Laura's waist and whistled a few bars of a chart-topping hit.

This was how it felt after acing a test.

Chapter Nine

Two weeks later

Dallas unlocked the side rear door of the pub and let himself inside. He took the stairs to the third floor apartment two at a time, humming softly under his breath. The scent of coffee greeted him as he opened the door.

“Patrick, what are you doing here?”

“We were late closing up last night, and I didn't think you'd mind if I crashed here.”

“Thanks for covering for me.” Dallas poured himself a coffee. “I owe you.”

“Yes, you do.” Patrick stretched and let out a loud yawn. “I'm keeping score.”

Dallas grinned. “No problem.”

“Maria came in last night. She was looking for you.”

Dallas froze, his mug halfway to his mouth. “What did she want? Did she say?”

Patrick slanted him a look. “I got the feeling she wanted to hook up again.”

“Not gonna happen,” Dallas said without hesitation. “I'm not on the market.”

Patrick let out a hard breath. “Good. She's bad news.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That you didn't work as much these days and you had someone.” Patrick paused, shrugged. “She laughed when I said you had someone. She's attractive.”

“So is L—” Dallas clamped his mouth shut.

“Hah. I nearly got her name out of you. Why the secrecy? When do I get to meet Blondie?”

Dallas ignored the teasing. “Do you think Maria will come back?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. At least I'll be prepared for seeing her.”

“That's what I figured,” Patrick said. “She left with some guy I hadn't seen before.”

“Thanks.” Dallas took a sip of his coffee. “I came in early to catch up on paperwork. I need to get some figures to the accountant.”

“Rather you than me,” Patrick said. “Are you going to take Blondie to Ma's birthday party? I can't believe their six-month holiday is almost over.”

“Me neither.” Dallas's gut twisted because he'd considered taking Laura. He was proud of her, but he didn't want to spoil the day for his mother either. “No, she can't come. She has something else on.”

“Another time,” Patrick said.

“Yeah. Thanks for last night.”

“Anytime. Catch ya.” And with a wink, his brother loped from the apartment.

Dallas frowned after him, sipped his coffee.

Maria was back
.

Dallas thought about her and didn't feel anything except irritation. He'd have to face her, tell her in person he wasn't interested in resuming their relationship. She'd cheated on him, ditched him for someone else when it suited her capricious nature. Even if he wasn't with Laura, he'd be stupid to entertain ideas of hooking up again with Maria.

Dallas completed his paperwork and wandered down to the bar. They were shorthanded, and he spent the rest of his morning hauling crates from the cellar and pouring beers. Thankfully, a part-timer arrived after lunch because they got slammed in the afternoon.

A roar went up from the customers who were watching the rugby on the big screen.

“Try!” a man shouted, pumping his fist in the air.

Pool balls clacked. A boisterous group of guys in their early twenties pummeled the dart board with more enthusiasm than skill.

“Two beers and a vodka tonic,” a bald man said.

Dallas poured the beers and handed over the drinks, taking a fifty-dollar note in return. He offered the change and moved to the next customer. Repeat and rinse. As the afternoon passed, the rugby enthusiasts who'd braved the rain to watch the match live started arriving at the bar. Euphoric chatter and customers three deep at the bar battered his brain and kept his hands busy.

“We won. I can't believe we beat the Marlins.” A Napier fan lifted his beer in salute. “To the boys. May they win again!”

Dallas rang up an order, sorted change and looked for the next customer.

“Three beers, please, Mr. Bartender.” The familiar voice made him frown, look harder and a grin burst free. Laura, dressed in a blue and gold beanie with a matching scarf wound around her neck, stood at the bar and waved money at him. Not an ounce of hoity-toity Drummond on display today.

“Hey,” he said, winking at her. “Who's drinking the other beers?”

“I'm here with James and Steven. James rang about an upcoming function he wants me to attend. When they found out I wasn't doing anything, they dragged me to the rugby.”

“Did you have fun?”

“I'd never been before.” Laura bubbled with her usual enthusiasm. “We did the Mexican wave and booed at the opposition. The rugby was good too. Nothing better than ogling male butts.”

“As long as mine is included.” Dallas handed her the beers and waved away her money. “No charge because you're so pretty.” He glanced along the bar and couldn't resist leaning over to snatch a quick kiss. “I'll see you later.”

“Yours is my favorite,” she said and picked up the beers, giving him a sassy grin. “Later.”

He stared after her until she was lost amongst the exuberant crowd. James and Steven would look after her, but he wished he wasn't stuck behind the bar.

Dallas took the next order, working on automatic pilot. Beers. Spirits. Glasses of wine. The odd soft drink or juice for a designated driver. Laura came up for a second round, and despite the audience, he snatched another kiss. He grinned after her before slipping back into routine.

“Jack and cola, please, lover.” The familiar throaty voice made the hair at the back of his neck prickle, and not in a good way.

“Maria. Patrick said you'd dropped by.”

“You didn't call.”

Dallas shrugged and poured her drink. He placed it on the bar in front of her. She'd had her dark hair cut short in a pixie style. It suited the sharp angles of her face and made her blue eyes look huge. She looked well, sensuality oozing out of every pore, yet he wasn't tempted.

She took a sip.

“You need to pay for that,” Dallas said, fighting to keep his tone level.

“Oh? You never used to charge me for drinks.”

“Times change.”

After a silent battle of wills, she pulled a ten-dollar note from her pocket.

“You don't charge everyone,” she said, and his gut ran cold. Apparently, she'd been here for a while, scoping the territory.

“My pub. My business,” he said, slapping the change on the counter in front of her. Without another word, he moved to the next customer.

“Hi,” he heard Maria say to a man sitting at the bar. “How are you doing? Did you go to the game?”

When he turned back, Maria sat on the barstool. She spent the next hour flirting with Mr. Gullible and watching Dallas work the bar. Irritation simmered in his gut as he served her another drink, this one paid for by Mr. Gullible. What game was the woman playing? He didn't want her, wasn't interested. Not even tempted.

Patrick arrived, saw they were being slammed and jumped behind the bar to help.

“Take that half of the bar,” Dallas said, indicating the end where Maria perched on her stool.

“I see you have a visitor.”

“Unwanted,” Dallas said tersely.

He turned away to grab three bottles of boutique beer from the chiller. When he handed them to the customer, his gaze met Laura's. One brown eye closed in a wink and just like that, the angst riding him dispersed. Maria didn't matter.

Steven used his bulk to push to the bar. “We're off now.”

“Okay. Tell Laura, I'll be late.” Dallas poured a vodka and tonic and chucked in a slice of lemon. He set the drink on the bar for the customer and met Laura's gaze. She nodded. Message received. She waved her cell phone in the air, and he gave a return nod, taking a few seconds to watch them leave.

His gaze darted to Maria, but she'd wandered off to play a machine. Good. Hopefully she'd received the message too. He went back to serving beers. The clusters of customers seemed never ending, but the clock crept around to closing time.

“Last orders!” he shouted.

There was a flurry of customers before they closed the bar. Despite the crowd, they didn't have any trouble and the customers drifted out the door.

“Can we talk?” Maria asked.

“No,” Dallas said. “I'm not interested in anything you have to say.”

“We were good together. You owe me a few minutes at least.”

“I don't owe you a thing. It's time for you to leave. We're closed.” Dallas walked away and busied himself stacking glasses in the washer.

Half an hour later, only Maria remained, loitering by the slot machine.

“What are you still doing here?” Dallas smothered a yawn and unwillingly turned to face her. He stooped to switch off the power on the machine before she dropped in more money.

“We need to talk.” She huffed out an impatient breath, the action slinging him back into the past. She made that sound every time he irritated her. Toward the end, she'd made the noise often.

“So talk,” Dallas said.

Maria sent a swift glance at Patrick, who was making no secret of his eavesdropping. “In private.”

“You can say anything you want to say in front of Patrick.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I want you back. You're the best lover I've ever had.”

She had to be bloody kidding. “A relationship requires trust. I don't trust you.” Even the length of a rugby field was standing too close to the viperous bitch.

“That little blonde girl is too young for you. You need someone older, more experienced.”

“You have too much practice, too much skill for me,” Dallas said bluntly. Blast Maria for noticing and managing to add two plus two together. She'd always had a good grasp of numbers. Maybe if he brushed aside her assumption she'd forget Laura.

The smile froze on Maria's face, and the color surge into her cheeks told him he'd scored a hit. He didn't feel victory. Instead, relief that he'd dodged a monumental fuckup shored his resolve. Lucky for him, he'd taken the lessons she'd forced on him to heart.

“You should leave now,” Patrick said, rounding the bar. He gripped Maria's arm and directed her to the door.

She gave an irritable shrug, dislodging his grasp. “All right.
All right
. I'm going.”

Lifting his hands up in a gesture of surrender, Patrick stalked behind her and locked the door before returning to the bar. “You've made an enemy there.”

“I can't believe she thought a snap of her fingers would make me come running.”

“Let's hope she takes no as your final answer.”

“Do you think she'll keep coming around?”

“I don't know. She had an air of panic about her.”

Dallas swiped a cloth across the bar. “You think? I tried to ignore her.”

“Did you see the Drummond girl? The youngest one. I can't remember her name. She was with two guys.”

Dallas stopped wiping the bar. “A Drummond? In here? You're shittin' me. Which one was she?”

“Perky blonde. Curvy with a sexy ass. Dressed in jeans and a Napier Kings rugby shirt.”

“Numbskull, you've described the majority of our female customers.” Dallas breathed out his trepidation and went back to his cleaning.

Patrick didn't know.

“True. Personally, I prefer a redhead. Lots of fiery passion locked under the surface.”

Dallas chuckled as he was supposed to. “These days, I prefer blondes.”

“Not that blonde.”

“Do I look stupid? I wonder if she knew she was in O'Grady territory.”

“But your mystery blonde was here. Maria noticed her.”

“Maria talks crap. I don't even know why we're wasting time talking about her. I'm not interested nor am I stupid enough to let her crush my heart under her boots again.”

“Good to know,” Patrick said. “You sleeping at the apartment tonight?”

Dallas's phone let out a peep, indicating an incoming text. He scanned the screen and grinned. “Nope. I have a hot blonde waiting.”

“Can I stay here?”

“Sure. Appreciate the help tonight.” Dallas scanned the bar and set aside his cleaning cloth. The kitchen staff had already left. He stacked more glasses in the washer, and searched for his remaining staff members. “Hey, Chris. Helen. You almost done?”

“This is the last of the glasses,” Chris said with a loud yawn. “Damn, my feet hurt.”

Patrick grinned and tugged on one of her red ringlets. It sprang back into place the instant he released it. “Are you sure you're happy with your husband?”

“He likes redheads,” Dallas said.

Chris laughed. “So does my husband.”

“We're done,” Dallas said. “I'll see you guys tomorrow.” He turned back to Patrick. “You okay to lock up?”

“No prob.”

Five minutes later, Dallas was driving away from the pub, going home to Laura. Lights shone like a welcome beacon when he pulled into the driveway, and anticipation flickered through him.
Down, boy
.

He used his keys to open the front door and stepped into the warm. “Honey, I'm home.”

Laura appeared at the end of the passage, a welcoming smile curving her lips. Then she was running. She sprang at him, hooked her legs around his hips and gripped his shoulders for balance, laughing the entire time.

Their lips met, and something inside him turned over. A fleeting sensation of rightness and comfort before it faded, lost in the flare of passion. He backed her against the wall and deepened the contact.
This
. This was what he needed.

He lifted his head and grinned. “I like the welcome wagon.”

“I missed you. It's hard seeing you and not being able to touch when I want.”

“I kissed you.”

“Not after your brother arrived,” she said with a faint air of challenge.

“I don't want to talk about my brother.” He started for his bedroom, passing the empty spare room on the way. Boxes of books and other belongings still littered the floor. They'd have to sort out the mess. Soon.