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Almost an hour later, swiping the mist from the mirror above the bathroom sink, Connor met his reflection as he pondered whether he could be bothered to shave. He’d pass as a thug, with the dark stubble giving him an unruly edge. But nah, he’d do it tomorrow. Wandering to his bedroom, then dropping the towel slung around his hips, he searched through the clothes basket for kicking-back attire. Then, donning his favourite boxer shorts and nothing else, he ran his fingers through his shower-damp hair – his way of combing it – as he made his way into the kitchen to rustle up a snack. The scent of his bacon and egg dinner still lingered, making him wish he’d cooked up more than one helping. He swung the fridge door open, grabbed the carton of milk out and, not bothering about getting a glass, sculled what was left of it. Heading to the pantry, he sung the lyrics to the Brad Paisley tune playing from the stereo in the lounge room and then plucked out a packet of Kingston biscuits, firmly telling himself not to polish off the entire packet in one sitting, the way he quite often would.
Two biscuits in, a knock at the front door had him rising from the stool at the breakfast bench, and wandering over to it. To his delight, he opened the door to the most beautiful of faces. ‘Hey, Sammie.’ Wearing a simple cream dress that swished at her ankles, with matching earrings and no make-up, she looked effortlessly stunning.
Her gaze flitted over him, and snagged on his chest, before coming back to meet his eyes. ‘Oh, hey, sorry, I should have called first, but Jack said I needn’t bother, and that calling in is what’s done round here, so here I am.’
‘He’s right about that, so come on in.’ He watched a rush of heat give rise to a blush on her cheeks. Knowing it was him who’d caused it, he smothered the grin that was fighting to surface. ‘So what do I owe this impromptu visit to?’
‘Seeing as we’ve only got a couple of days to go,’ she said, slipping her sandals off and padding past him., ‘I thought I should pop over, and organise a couple of things for the wedding.’
The tattoo on her left foot caught his gaze. ‘I remember watching you get that.’
She lifted her foot a little, gazing at the eagle feather tattoo as if for the very first time. ‘Oh this thing, yeah, it bloody hurt like hell.’
‘I know, you were squeezing my hand so hard I thought my fingers were going to drop off from lack of circulation.’
‘Ha, yeah, that’s right, I’d forgotten about that.’ The gold bracelets on her slender wrist jingled as she raised her hand to tuck loose tendrils of hair behind her ear.
Lost in all that was her, Connor momentarily found himself speechless.
Damn, what was she doing to him?
‘Would you like something to drink?’ he finally said.
‘Yes please.’
He led her into the kitchen. ‘Coffee, tea, or something stronger?’
‘Something stronger sounds good to me.’
‘Righto, what tickles your fancy?’ Wandering over to his array of spirits on the bench, he motioned for her to choose one.
‘Oh, yum.’ She picked up the bottle of Baileys Irish Cream. ‘How about a shot of this over some ice.’
‘Great choice, I’ll have one too, I reckon.’ He pulled up a stool. ‘Here, make yourself comfy while I go grab a T-shirt, and then I’ll make us those drinks.’
She did. And he went and made himself a little more respectable, wishing to goodness he’d had that shave. Returning, then busying himself with grabbing two tumblers, then some ice from the freezer, he silently cursed as he tried to get his rising emotions under control. Never, ever had he felt so compelled to act upon his longings. But the country music playing in the background, her alluring perfume teasing his senses and the way she had her chin resting on her hand as she watched his every move, everything about this very moment was making him crave to stop what he was doing and take her into his arms, so he could kiss her like he wanted to.
Drinks made, he passed one to her, then motioned to clink glasses. They did, and in union brought each to their lips. He watched her take her tentative sip, and then sigh in pleasure, her eyes rolling to the ceiling.
‘I gather you like it.’ He smirked at her look of gratification.
‘Uh-huh, I haven’t had a Baileys on ice for years.’
‘It’s a nice night so do you want to enjoy our drinks out on the back verandah?’
‘Sounds good to me.’ She followed him outside. ‘Isn’t it a glorious evening?’ she said, staring at the sky, her smile wistful.
‘Isn’t it always here?’
‘Yeah,’ she said and nodded, ‘it pretty much is.’
They got settled, and she got to business chatting about a few details they needed to organise to help the wedding day run as smoothly as possible. His job was to make sure the cars arrived on time, that Jack was wearing his new Akubra and not his work one, and that he had the rings in his jacket pocket; hers was to make sure the make-up and hairdresser arrived on time, that Shea remained calm at all times and that the reception hall was decorated to perfection.
Now the business side of things was done, Connor was keen to learn all he could about her future plans. ‘So, are you looking forward to getting back to the hustle and bustle of London?’ He’d start off with the easy ones and work his way into the harder questions.
‘In some ways, yes, and in others, not really.’ She sighed weightily.
‘Yeah, right, so what are the good and the bad of going back?’
