Some Girls Do (Outback Heat Book 1) (15 page)

“No.” He looked down at himself then back at her. “I hadn’t planned on starting this, I wasn’t dressed for it, but then I thought I’d do the basics and one thing lead to another and before I knew it I was in the engine. You have no idea how many shirts I’ve ruined with grease stains because I always think it’s going to be okay and then of course it’s not.”

He stopped talking for a moment and looked uncomfortable like he knew he was babbling. “Anyway … it was hot. Pulling a car apart is hot work so …”

So he’d pulled his shirt off.

“You could have pulled the garage doors up, let in some air.”

He shook his head. “People in this town are mighty chatty.”

Lacey laughed. That was so true. Apart from the pub, Alec Campbell’s had always been the centre for male congress in Jumbuck Springs.

Plus he
was
shacked up with little Lacey Weston.

“Sorry.” His hands stilled finally and he looked around as if trying to locate his shirt. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

Like she was complaining. Coop with no shirt and low-rider jeans, all sweaty and greasy, was pretty damn easy on the eye.

“You missed some,” she said, reaching out to grab the rag from him. She half expected him to resist but it slipped from his hands and before she knew it she’d taken a step forward and was rubbing the soft cloth along the streak of grease.

His abdominal muscles jumped beneath her touch then twitched with each swipe. Lacey watched them, unable to drag her gaze from the hypnotic undulations. Lucky for her, grease was stubborn so she got to rub a lot, her strokes getting surer and firmer, disappointed when the streak finally disappeared but continuing the caress anyway, brushing the cloth lower, hooked on the dance of his muscles and the rough burr of his breathing.

Or was it hers?

Her fingertip brushed the waistband of his Levis and his hand suddenly clamped down over hers. She looked up at him. He didn’t say anything for a moment but his eyes were brimful with the kind of tension she’d felt in his muscles.

“I think it’s gone now.”

His voice tumbled over her like water on river stones. Lacey held his gaze for another beat or two before pulling her hand away and surrendering the cloth. Her pulse whooshed slow and muffled through her ears and her gaze dropped as she tried to catch a breath she didn’t know she’d lost. The scar bisecting his sternum, thin and white, stared back at her and before she could stop herself she was bringing her hands up to his chest, one laid over the steady thud of his heart, the other tracing the scar with her fingertips.

She was close enough, tuned in to his body enough, to hear the catch in his breath.

“Lacey.”

“You could have died,” she murmured, her fingers continuing their caress, reading his scar—his skin—like braille.

“I didn’t.”

She glanced up into his eyes, the incredible blue that had struck her right from that very first night still holding her in thrall. “Ethan said it was close. That you nearly died.”

“Ethan likes to embellish,” he rumbled.

Lacey gave a half smile. They both knew her brother wouldn’t know embellishment if it came up and bit him on the ass. “Were you scared?”

Coop frowned. “When he shot me? Or after.”

“Both.”

“I didn’t really have time to be scared when he shot me. It all happened so fast. And then after that all I really remember is the pain.”

Lacey couldn’t bear the thought of that. Coop lying on the ground in pain and bleeding because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Her hand moved up to touch the horizontal scar transecting low on his trachea. His throat bobbed beneath her fingertips. “So you weren’t scared?”

“Yes.” The vibration of his voice buzzed the whorls of her fingertips. “In the hospital when I woke up and couldn’t seem to move or remember anything because of all the drugs they’d given me.”

She raised her eyes from his throat. “That must have been awful,” she whispered.

“Not something I ever want to repeat.”

Lacey gaze drifted to Coop’s mouth. He was a man of few words. King of the understatement. “What would I have done without you these past couple of years?” she whispered.

“I’m sure Ethan would have found you someone else to torture.”

It took Lacey a second or two to comprehend the words, busy as she was watching them form on his mouth. She gave a half smile as they sank in, raising her hand to touch those lips.

She expected him to flinch or to rear back. He didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her gaze lifting to his, her voice tremulous as she traced the contours of his mouth.

He drew in an unsteady breath, his palm sliding to cup her cheek as the blue of his eyes burned into the brown of hers. “It’s fine.” The space around them shrunk down to just the two of them, the air thicker and heavier, pressing in on them.

His gaze dropped to her mouth and Lacey knew he was going to kiss her.
Yes
. Dear God,
yes.
Her heart banged against her ribs and throbbed at her pulse points, her fingers fell from his lips, giving him permission, inviting him in, asking him for it.

But it had to come from him this time. She
wanted
it to come from him.
Needed
it to. Wanting to kiss him was a default position for her. It was a given. But if it came from him? If he initiated it, it would be something else. Something more. A confirmation of the mutual attraction he’d denied for so long. A sign that he still wanted her.

No matter how crazy.

His head moved slowly towards hers, almost imperceptibly, and Lacey’s pulse trebled, the muscle fibres in her belly tangling and twisting hard. She didn’t move. She daren’t even breathe lest he change his mind. She could feel his breath warm on her face, see the dilation of his pupils.

And then he halted, his gaze roaming over her face, searching her eyes for who knew what. Whatever it was he didn’t find it, instead shutting his eyes and pressing his forehead against hers with a groan that seemed to come from his boots and plucked those muscle fibres deep inside her to an unbearable tautness.

“I can’t do this, Lacey,” he muttered, his forehead lifting, his hand slipping from her cheek, his body backing up a step or two.

What?
Lacey blinked and placed her hand on the car frame for support.
What had just happened?
He wanted her. Did he think she didn’t know that? “No matter how much you want to?”

He shook his head. “
Because
of how much I want to.”

Lacey took heart at his words and ignored his closed face. He
did
want her. “I’m twenty-one, Coop. I’m well above the age of consent and old enough to know my own mind.”

He swore under his breath, glaring at her. “It doesn’t matter if you’re a hundred and one. You will always be my best friend’s little sister. You’ll always be off limits, Lacey.”

The thought was so bleak she didn’t even want to think about it. She knew his parents and others found his honourable streak commendable, but right now Lacey wanted to strangle him with it.

“You should go,” he said, tucking the cloth back in his pocket again and snagging his shirt off the end of the workbench. “Go ahead and eat without me.” He shoved his arms into it. “I’m going to be a while yet.”

And with that he turned back to her engine on the floor.

Stung by his dismissal, Lacey didn’t even have the fortitude to argue.

*     *     *

The restoration job
on her car came to define their days over the next week. Coop went off to work before Lacey was awake most mornings and when he shut up shop for the day he started on her car, often not getting in until nine or ten at night, dog-tired and utterly sexy in his greasy way. Sometimes he ate, sometimes he didn’t. Then he showered, hit the sack and they started all over again the next morning.

Their conversations, when he was around long enough to have them with her, usually revolved around car stuff—progress updates or decisions on paint and upholstery. Lacey went for black leather seats with an ochre stitching and trim and for the duco chose a candy apple red base paint and a shimmer gold pearl for over the top to produce a metallic ochre look that threw hints of either red or orange from its pearlescent hide, depending where the sun hit it.

Occasionally he asked Lacey about her job hunt or the pub or about the costumes for the high school musical, but essentially they passed like ships in the night. Coop was clearly getting through their forced cohabitation with the minimum amount of conversation. Or at least the minimum amount of opportunity to find himself in the sort of clinch they’d ended up in on Thursday evening.

Which was fine by Lacey. A girl could only be knocked back so many times before she started to doubt herself as a woman. And she was much too happy at being home to let any negativity ruin her high.

But it seemed like JJ wasn’t above prodding that particular sore spot, as Lacey found out the following Thursday afternoon during the lull before the evening crowd wandered in for some liquid socialising.

“How are things with you and Coop?”

JJ was the same height as Lacey but had a loose kind of lankiness to her limbs and a lack of female airs and graces that had her labelled as a tomboy from her very early years. Of course, hanging with the Weston brothers hadn’t helped.

“Great,” Lacey lied, plastering a big old smile on her face. As long as they didn’t get close enough to touch and stuck to safe subjects like paint and leather they were just
dandy
.

She tried not to think about the fact that Alec Campbell was due back on Wednesday. Six more days.

“He’s being very … attentive.”

“Oh?” JJ said as she wiped the wooden bar surface down with a wet cloth. “I don’t see him around very much?”

“He’s working hard on restoring my Mini at the moment. He wants to get it done as quickly as possible so I have wheels. For … appointments and stuff.”

“Yeah I guess,” JJ agreed. “I just would have thought two new lovebirds …”

Lacey frowned. Where was she going with this? “What?”

“Well … I didn’t think he’d let you out of his sight. I thought he’d be keeping you very,” she lowered her voice, “
busy
, if you know what I mean.”

Lacey almost snorted—if only!

“He seems quite besotted, Lace.”

Besotted?
Lacey blinked. Had JJ been drinking? “Well, the … morning sickness is kinda putting a stop to all that,” she fobbed.

“Really?” JJ arched an eyebrow. “I was only just saying to Jarrod yesterday how remarkably healthy you always look considering how early it is in the pregnancy.”

JJ was looking at her expectantly. As if she was waiting for her to confess or something. But confessing to
JJ
was the last thing Lacey was doing. Everyone would know the truth soon enough. “It’s more a night-time sickness thing. He might as well be at the shop than be listening to me throwing up in the toilet all night.”

Lacey was surprised how easily the fabrication slipped off her tongue—one in a long line since this subterfuge had begun. No doubt she was cursing herself to the worst case of morning sickness ever known to womankind when she did eventually decide to have a baby.

Karma was a bitch like that.

“Ah. I see,” JJ said, not looking very convinced at all.

One of the regulars came up to the bar and JJ poured him a tap beer without having to be asked. Lacey was grateful for the reprieve. She had a feeling this was an interrogation of sorts and she wasn’t sure how long she could hold out against JJ’s deceptively friendly, big-sister technique of questioning.

Lacey was waiting for her when JJ came back. “You know,” she said. “I always thought you and Ethan would get together one day?”

Anyone who hadn’t known JJ forever might have missed the tiny little nerve leaping just under JJ’s eye but Lacey didn’t.

“Nah,” she dismissed with a flick of her hair and a quick easy smile. One that said
that old chestnut
. But the nerve continued to pulse. “We’re mates. Just mates. You know that.”

Hmm. Interesting. It had been a desperate question. One meant to force a retreat, or at least guarantee a change in the subject, but JJ’s response was interesting … or the jumping nerve was anyway.

Lacey regarded JJ seriously. “Haven’t you … ever been tempted to cross that line?”

God knew they’d had plenty of opportunity. And it wasn’t like the whole town wouldn’t have thrown them a massive party. Jumbuck Springs had been banking on them getting together since they played on the same under sevens touch footy team and continually tried to best each other.

And then high school had happened and Delia had come along.

JJ shook her head emphatically this time and the nerve stopped its frantic pulsing. “Nah. Our friendship is way too important to mess with.”

Lacey could relate to that. Wasn’t that the same with her and Coop? But then they hadn’t been friends first, had they? They’d been lovers. They’d put the cart before the horse well and truly. Maybe they weren’t destined to be friends either. Maybe it was lovers or nothing.

And Coop wasn’t entertaining the first option.