Fly with Me (35 page)

Man, he’d been
hoping she’d ring him sooner. Like yesterday right after he left,
or maybe last night. But no, no phone call.

Shoving his
glasses up the bridge of his nose, he double-checked the dates he’d
written down. Tomorrow was Friday and he had the weekend off. Hmmm,
it was also the weekend Ash and Scott were away, which meant that
Elissa would be home alone.

Maybe he
should pop around then, maybe drop something off for Scott, some
kind of excuse for turning up. But then subterfuge had never been
his strong point, and he didn’t want it to start now. Maybe he
should just give her a ring, invite her out for dinner.

No, wait, he’d
told her she had to make the decision, that he would wait for her
to contact him. Damn, that hadn’t really been his best idea.

Maybe he’d
have to be a little sneaky after all.
No, no, don’t go down that
road
.
She’s had enough lying, be honest with her
.

Okay, so maybe
being honest meant going to see her in a couple of days if he
didn’t hear from her, tell her he needed to know. Surely she’d know
by then? Simon pulled his glasses down the bridge of his nose,
pushed them back up. How long was long enough, how long was too
long, how long should he wait? Should he even wait? Maybe he should
take matters into his own hands a little? Maybe he should-

“Are you
trying to brand those dates into your brain?” Scott appeared beside
him.

“What?” Simon
blinked.

“You’ve been
staring at that paper in your hands for the last five minutes
without moving. You all right?”

“Fine. Yeah.
No worries.” Folding the paper, Simon slid it into his shirt
pocket.

Leaning back
against the wall, Scott eyed him shrewdly. “Something on your mind?
Or should I say someone?”

Sighing, Simon
slid the glasses off. “Someone.”

“It wouldn’t
be a long shot to say it’s Elissa, right?”

“Nope.”

“Uh huh. So
what’s going on between you two?”

Thrusting his
hands into his pocket, Simon turned and started walking across to
the big open doorway of the fire station. “It’s more like what I
want there to be between us.”

Scott strode
silently along beside him until they reached the doorway, then
leaned against the frame. Legs braced slightly apart, his hands
still in his pockets, Simon looked out into the darkness.

“I thought you
were both getting along okay.” Scott paused. “Or were until the
movie night. Which was kind of a weird time between you two.”

“Yeah.” Simon
tracked a car’s headlights as it came down the street. “For some
reason she was a little frosty. Not sure what that was about.”

“She’s a
complex sheila.”

“Has reason to
be.”

“Ash told me a
little. Her parents are quite a pair of dickheads.”

“That’s
putting it mildly.”

There was
silence for several seconds before Scott asked, “So what are you
going to do?”

“She’s got a
lot on her mind. I told her to think about us, make a decision and
let me know.”

“Has she?”

“No.” Simon
inhaled deeply, the scent of the country in the air. “Not unless I
get home and there’s a message on my answering machine.” Because
that’d be a miracle.

“Women.” Scott
shook his head. “Complex creatures.”

“And you’re
marrying one of them next week.”

“Yeah, but
that’s Ash. She isn’t complex.”

“You sure
about that?”

Scott
grinned.

“Has Elissa
mentioned anything about, you know, me?”

“Not that I’m
aware of, but mate, that doesn’t mean she hasn’t spoken to Ash
about you. They’re best friends.”

“Maybe you
could pump Ash for information.” Give him an idea of what Elissa
was thinking.

Scott gave him
an odd look.

“What?”

“I’ve never
seen you like this about a female.”

“That’s
because Elissa isn’t just any female.”

“She’s a
little more.”

“A lot
more.”

“You’ve only
known her a few days.”

“You didn’t
know Ash for long before you fell head over heels for her.”

“Good point.”
Nodding, Scott straightened and clapped him on the shoulder. “Okay,
I’ll talk to Ash tonight, see if she knows anything.”

“Appreciate
it.”
Really appreciate it
.

“Yeah, mate,
no worries.” Scott looked around as car lights flashed over the
doorway. “Here comes the nightshift. Knock-off time for us.” He
switched his attention to Simon. “Want to come home for a
cuppa?”

And see
Elissa? Hell yeah. But it was too soon. Wasn’t it? Damn it. “As
much as I’d like to, I’ll have to say no.”

“Understood.”
Scott turned and started inside as another set of car lights
approached the fire station.

Not long
after, Simon drove out of the fire station car park and headed for
Mrs Tanner’s home. Bugger it, he couldn’t win lately. Elissa was
occupying his thoughts, he was on hot bricks waiting for her to
decide whether or not to give him a chance, and truth be told, if
she decided no he’d have to work on another plan because he wasn’t
giving up on her - on them. But right now he also had a cranky old
cat who was hell bent on hating him and the world to feed and try
to cajole.

Shit, sooner
or later he was going to have to trap Arthur. The nights were
colder, and there was only so long he and Arthur could tip-toe
around each other. Ryder was right, he had to get Arthur away from
here to his home, have him settled before early autumn surrendered
to winter. Poor old bugger would freeze his arse off, and he
probably had a touch of arthritis that wouldn’t take kindly to the
cold.

Taking the
torch from the glove box, Simon got out and went around the back of
the house. No Arthur greeted him, no cranky old cat eyeing him with
caution and dislike from the chair.

Simon did a
hunt around, calling to the old cat, but Arthur didn’t appear. His
biscuit bowl was empty, but that could have been neighbourhood cats
who finished it off. Not happy at all, Simon had no choice but to
fill the biscuit bowl, clean out the wet food bowl and spoon more
fish into it from one of the cans, and check he had enough
water.

He spent
fifteen minutes just sitting on the veranda hoping Arthur would
appear, but no such luck. Cantankerous old bugger was probably
watching him from beneath a bush somewhere. Finally Simon gave up
and drove home.

Walking into
the old house, he dropped his keys in the glass dish on the
hall-side table and looked around. The lower half of the walls were
dark wood grained, the top half he’d just finished wallpapering in
a pale, ice blue, tiny little dark blue rose buds scattered across
it. A dark blue hall runner ran the length of the long hallway.

Ryder had
laughed his arse off, but Simon didn’t care. The dark wood was
masculine, the wall paper giving it a soft, older-style finish.
He’d seen it in a magazine and liked it, so he’d tried his hand at
it. As far as he was concerned it looked great, warm and cool all
at once. His home, his choices.

He wondered
what Elissa would think of it, if she’d like it. Huh, now there was
a thought.

Moving into
the kitchen, he flicked the kettle on and left it to boil while he
showered, returning to the kitchen in just a pair of boxers to make
a mug of hot Milo and grab a packet of dried fruit and nut which he
took to bed with him. Setting the Milo on the bedside table which
he’d made himself - that had shut Ryder’s gob up good and proper -
he settled into bed, picking up both his book and glasses
simultaneously. As he slid the glasses on, he glanced around the
bedroom while propping the packet of dried fruit and nuts beside
his hip where he could reach it easily.

Man, this room
had been a pit when he’d first seen it. Sagging roof, huge hole in
the wall, broken window. He’d fixed it all himself, sanded it back,
repainted it, varnished the old wood frames and made the bedside
tables. Again, he’d gone with dark wood furniture and light
paint.

Would Elissa
like it? He sure as hell hoped to have her in here soon, but his
intentions with that weren’t to check out his handiwork. Hell no.
He wanted her in his bed, under him, buried deep inside her and
then curling around that lush little body in that deliciously lazy,
completed sated, aftermath.

Okay, that
thought was giving him a boner, not something he wanted when he
didn’t have said lush little body to ease that sexual pressure.
Right then, self satisfaction just wasn’t that inviting. Sure, it’d
ease the pressure, but it wouldn’t ease his emotions or
thoughts.

Damn it, why
didn’t she ring?

Taking a deep,
slightly impatient breath, Simon opened the book and forced his
attention on the story. Just what he needed - mayhem, death, and a
gritty detective.

He spent a
restless night, however, and was yawning widely while driving to
feed Arthur early the next morning before going to the fire
station. Admirably, he didn’t give in to the temptation to swing
past Scott’s house to see if Elissa was out walking. But hell, he
decided that if she didn’t ring tonight he might just have to cave
and call on her.

Turning onto
the street leading to Mrs Tanner’s house, he spotted a figure
kneeling on the verge. As he watched, the figure straightened
slowly, holding something in their arms.

Wait, was that
Elissa?

His heart beat
picked up pace, delight flooding him at the thought of seeing her
again, but then as he neared she turned and the delight was pushed
aside by concern.

There was no
doubting the distress on her face, nor was there any doubting who
she held cradled carefully in her arms. That black bundle was
unmistakeable.

Pulling into
the driveway right beside them, Simon shoved the door open and got
out fast. “Lis? What’s wrong?” His gaze dropped to the limp bundle
of fur in her arms, his heart clenching suddenly. “Arthur?”

“I was walking
past and I saw him on the verge. Simon, he won’t wake up. I think
he’s been hit by a car or something.”

Simon ran his
hand gently over the old cat, noting that he still drew breath.
There were several cuts on him, blood still oozing from several.
His fur was damp with dew. “Arthur, hey there, boy, gonna open your
eyes?” Concern for the old cat bit deep. “We’re taking him to the
vet.”

“Okay.”
Quickly but carefully, Elissa moved around the panel van to the
passenger seat. When Simon went to take Arthur from her, she shook
her head. “I can get in still holding him.”

Not a bad
idea, he really didn’t want to be shifting him too much, not
without knowing how badly he was injured. Simon held the door open,
steadying her with his hand as she carefully got into the car,
sliding the seat belt carefully over her and buckling it in before
straightening and hurrying around to the driver’s door.

Phoning the
vet as he pulled out of the driveway, Simon explained what had
happened, relieved when the vet told him he’d be waiting for them
at the clinic.

Simon glanced
at Arthur and Elissa, fear for the old cat eating at him, worry for
the pale face of the woman. “Sweetheart? Are you all right?”

There were
definite tears in her eyes when she looked from the old cat in her
arms to Simon. “Yes.”

No. That was a
definite no. She was ready to burst into tears, her face pallid and
strained.

Reaching out,
Simon gave her upper arm an encouraging rub. Personally, he’d have
liked to just gather her close and hug her, reassure her, but
truthfully he didn’t know if Arthur was all right. Right then all
he could do was silently pray for the cat, try to be strong for
Elissa, and drive right on the speed limit.

The vet was
waiting by the open front door, ushering them both inside and into
a consult room. As Elissa gently placed Arthur on the examination
table, the old cat opened his eye and gave a pitiful croak.

“Hey, old
boy.” A little relieved that Arthur was regaining consciousness,
Simon gave him a gentle stroke. “How you doing?” Then he was forced
to step back as the vet, who was new to town and looking a little
harried, started to check Arthur out.

A small hand
slid into his in a show of silent support and empathy. It was so
welcome. He gave Elissa’s hand a little squeeze, drawing her right
up beside him, her warm softness steadying him in this uncertain
time.

Damn, he
hadn’t realised just how much he’d grown to like the cranky old
fart now lying helplessly on the table. Suddenly Simon realised
that Arthur’s gaze was fixed on him.

“It’s all
right, boy,” he crooned.

Arthur tried
to push upright, managing to half lie, half sit, his gaze still on
Simon. Immediately Simon moved forward, touching Arthur’s head
lightly, amazed when a low purr broke out. It sounded like the
puttering of a geriatric boat about to give out any second.

“Good sign.”
The vet looked from Simon to Elissa. “But he’s very sore. I’d like
to run a few tests, do a couple of x-rays. He won’t let me touch
his left front paw properly and I’d like to check for deeper
injuries. He’s definitely been hit by a vehicle, his claws are
shredded from gripping the bitumen.”

Simon nodded.
“Do whatever you have to.”

“How old is
he?’

Simon paused.
“Well, I’m not really sure. He belonged to Mrs Tanner who died a
few weeks ago. I took over Arthur.”

“Okay. Did she
ever bring him here?”

“Yeah.” A
thought suddenly occurred to Simon. “You’re new here, so you
probably never met her. She came when Den ran the clinic.”

“Her records
should be on our computer system then.” The vet winced a little. “I
hope.”

Not sure
exactly what that was supposed to mean, Simon looked down at
Arthur, who leaned his head against Simon’s hand. Geez, the only
time he could be friendly was when he was hurt. Still, it was nice
to know that right then he saw Simon as a friend and not an enemy,
it made things easier.