Fly with Me (41 page)

The music
slowed and stopped, the lights flaring up as the couple in the
middle of the room hugged, kissed and finally broke apart to
applause.

Up on the
stage Elissa laughed, her eyes sparkling in enjoyment.

The band swung
into another popular pop song, fast and light, and people filled
the dance floor.

Molly sighed.
“Oh man…”

Kirk grinned.
“Feeling the yearning to break up the dance floor, kitten?”

“Yeah, but the
bump sits a little heavily now for that.”

“We can just
do our own slow version.”

She punched
his arm lightly. “We’d look like idiots.”

“I don’t
care.”

She dimpled up
at him. “Oh, Goldie, you angel. Really?”

“For you,
kitten, anything.”

“How abut we
hit the dance floor if they sing anything slow and dreamy?”

“Sure.” Kirk
looked at Simon. “Care for a fast trot with me?”

“In your
dreams,” Simon drawled.

A tapping on
his shoulder had him glancing up to see Del holding out her hand to
him.

“Come on, you
poor old man,” Del said. “I’ll take pity on you. Let’s hit the
floor.”

Grabbing her
hand, Simon pushed to his feet. “For you, sweetheart,
anything.”

“I’ll remember
that.”

“When have I
ever not done anything you asked?” He led her to the dance floor,
his hand on the back of her waist.

“Give me a
moment to think.” Backing onto the dance floor, Del winked at him
and wiggled her slim hips. “Come on, Simon, shake your thing!”

“Don’t,” Ryder
said from beside him, Dee clasped firmly in his arms. “Please don’t
shake your thing. I’ll go blind.”

“I won’t,” Dee
said. “Shake it, Simon. I want to see.”

“You bloody
well don’t, woman.” Ryder smacked her lightly on her ample bottom.
“My thing is the only thing you’ll see shaking.”

“I want to see
your thing do more than shake,” she retorted.

“A challenge.”
Ryder leered. “I love challenges.”

“Make sure you
live up to it when we get home. I’ll be judging.”

“Why wait?”
Ryder grabbed her hand and hauled her out from between the dancing
people.

Dee laughed,
scolded and called him names until they disappeared through the
side door.

Grinning,
Simon looked down at Del. “Okay, that’s them occupied for
awhile.”

“Let’s time
them.” Del checked her watch.

“We laying
bets?”

“Fifteen
minutes.”

“Hey, that’s
what they did last time.” Simon gathered Del close, dipped her,
making her gasp and grab for him even as her eyes danced with
laughter. “Cheat.”

“I only bet on
sure things.” She linked her arms around his neck.

“Ryder and Dee
are definitely a sure thing.”

Laughing, they
whirled around the floor, weaving between the couples. By the time
Elissa had sung a couple of more songs Simon had danced with Julia
Preston, Ryder’s mother, Mrs Montague, and Mrs Miller, Dee’s
mother.

There were a
lot of younger woman who tried to catch his eye, but the only woman
his own age he wanted to dance with was up on stage singing her
heart out. Man, she could wring a man to tears with that voice.

Over Mrs
Miller’s shoulder he saw Del dancing with Moz. Now there was a
sight for sore eyes. She was slim, he was broad, she was tall and
he was a hell of a lot taller. Her head barely reached his pecs. It
kind of looked like a little girl dancing with her dad. His big
hand held hers gingerly as though he was afraid he’d break her.

Then he said
something that had Del gaping, then frowning, then look at that,
she had a scowl on her face. For a second Simon thought she’d kick
Moz in the shins and stalk out, but apparently she remembered where
she was, gritted her teeth and kept dancing. The smile on her face
did not reach her eyes.

The little
band stopped playing, the DJ in the corner taking over the music
once more. Simon was ready by the stage, holding Elissa’s hand as
she came down the steps.

Eyes
sparkling, she flung her arms around his neck.

“You loved
that.” He swung her into a slow-moving dance as a dreamy tune came
on.

“Yep.”

“Love to
sing.”

“Yep.” She
snuggled closer.

“Do you miss
it?” At her blank look, he added, “Singing for a living, singing
for audiences.”

She shook her
head. “No. I love to sing for friends, have fun, but I don’t miss
singing for money. I don’t want the demands, the accolades. I just
want fun, to sing when and where I want, to live my life.” She
paused, peered up at him. “Why? Do you think I’ll want to go back
to it?”

“You might one
day.”

“No, Simon.”
She said it with finality. “I’ve been there, done that. I know it’s
not for me, it doesn’t rule my life. It’s a part of it, but only a
small part. What I want is right here.” She tapped his chest before
looking around. “The freedom to be me.”

Leaning down
to rest his forehead against hers, he smiled down at her, filled
with so much love. “You’ll always fly free with me, sweetheart.
I’ll never hold you down.”

Her arms
around his neck tightened a fraction. “There’s holding, Simon, and
then there’s imprisoning. Big difference.” Soberly, she looked up
at him. “I like to be held by you.”

That was all
she said before ducking her head to rest it under his chin against
his chest, her arms sliding down to lie around his back.

God, his heart
would burst with happiness. Right now all he wanted to do was hold
her. Hold her forever. Looked like she felt the same, and man, that
was amazing. That was- He looked up to see Moz watching him from
his position against the wall, arms folded across his chest,
muscles bulging.

Well, bugger
him. Nothing was going to spoil this moment. Simon smiled widely at
him before bending his head over the glossy hair tucked beneath his
chin and swaying with Elissa in time to the music, losing himself
in the moment.

Of course,
explaining to Moz why he was taking Elissa home to his house for
the night might be a little touchy, but he’d faced worse disasters
and survived.

The reception
drew to a close, the newly weds disappearing to spend a quiet night
at home before leaving in the morning for their honeymoon. Munching
on a piece of cake, Simon looked around for Elissa to find her
talking to Moz on the other side of the room. Moz’s arms were
folded across his chest, his shirt sleeves straining around the
muscular bulk of his arms, legs slightly apart, head tilted down as
he listened to whatever Elissa was saying.

He didn’t nod,
didn’t shake his head, just looked at her. Looked long and hard.
Elissa looked right back up at him.

Shit, if he
upset her Simon would be right up in his face ready for blood.
Going by the size of Moz it might very well be his own blood
flying, but he wouldn’t go down without a fight, and he’d give Moz
a damned good one. He’d taken on men bigger than himself and they’d
fallen hard. The bigger weren’t always better.

Swallowing the
cake, Simon moved fast across the floor. Moz’s gaze lifted to
collide with his, and he did not look happy.

Not his
problem. Simon moved up beside Elissa, sliding his arm around her
waist. “Everything all right, sweetheart?”

“I was just
telling Moz that I’m going home with you,” she replied, her own arm
sliding around his back.

No wonder big
brother didn’t look happy. Personally, Simon couldn’t blame him.
Right then, seeing the concern flickering in Moz’s eyes as he
glanced down at her, Simon knew what he had to do. At least to tide
them all over.

“I understand
your worry,” he said quietly. “You don’t know me. But Elissa does.
I care for her, I would never hurt her. I just want you to know
that.”

Moz studied
him, not saying a word.

“It’s late and
now is not the time for a meet, greet and sort out. Come by my
place tomorrow morning and we’ll talk, introduce ourselves
properly. You can ask me all the questions you like.”

“Simon,”
Elissa protested, “he doesn’t need to-”

“I’ve got
nothing to hide, baby.” Gaze still on Moz, Simon leaned down to
brush his lips against her temple. “Not one single thing. Besides,
I think it’s high time your brother and I had a proper chat.”

Before she
could say anything, Moz nodded. “I’ll be there.”

“Oh for…” She
sighed.

“I’ll bring
morning tea.”

Simon blinked.
“What?”

“Moz cooks.”
Elissa cast Simon a wry look. “Sure-fire way to your heart. After
you taste his cooking you might trade me in for Moz.”

“Very bloody
doubtful.”

Even Moz
managed to crack a grin. “I’ll cook next time. Tomorrow it’s bought
biscuits.”

“Tomorrow,
then.” Simon stuck out his hand.

Moz took it,
his calloused palm hard. “Sure.” Then he crunched down.

Simon managed
not to collapse to his knees. Cripes, he might be strong but Moz
was a little inhuman, he was sure.

Moz grinned, a
cold gleam in his eyes. “Just a little warning, mate. You hurt my
sister, I’ll pound you into the ground so hard there won’t be even
a tip of your red hair to distinguish from the blood.” He released
Simon’s hand.

Resisting the
impulse to shake out his tingling hand, Simon nodded. “Fair
enough.”

“For crying
out loud.” Elissa smacked Moz’s arm. “Will you stop being such a
moron?”

In reply, he
ruffled her hair. She glared up at him. While they did the staring
match, Simon turned his head, caught Ryder’s and Kirk’s amused
gazes, and mouthed a swear word while flexing his fingers.

Turning back
to face the siblings, Simon said, “I’ll take good care of her.”

“Yeah,” Moz
said. “You will.” The threat was back in his tone.

“Okay, then.”
Simon took a step back.

Elissa’s gaze
softened. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Moz.”

“See you,
sis.”

“How are you
getting home? We’ll give you a lift.”

“Plenty of
room in the car,” Simon agreed. Least he could do, seeing as how
this mountain was going to be his brother-in-law someday. The panel
van’s shockies might never be the same, but he was willing to
sacrifice them to keep Elissa happy.

“Thanks,” Moz
replied, “but I’m catching a lift with Julia seeing as we’re going
back to the same place.” He looked past them. “She’s waiting for
me.”

At least Simon
wouldn’t have to put up with Moz’s eyes boring a hole in the back
of his head in the car, that was something.

Even better,
though, was the woman snugged up to his side. Elissa in his home,
in his bed. Best thing ever.

~*~

Moz was
sitting in one of the wooden chairs at the kitchen table. The chair
was tilted back on two legs, balancing there while those long legs
were stretched out, big sneakered feet crossed at the ankles. His
arms were folded across his chest, massive biceps and triceps
stretching the sleeves of the t-shirt. A mug of coffee steamed on
the table beside him.

Simon was
leaning back against the kitchen bench, a slice of toast smeared
with Vegemite in one hand, a pile of Vegemite-smeared toast on a
plate beside him. In his other hand he held a mug of hot tea. Tall,
strong, broad-shouldered, a powerfully-built man in his own right
with a sweet personality who made her mouth water and her heart
skip a beat. The man made her whole world sing.

Standing in
the hallway with Arthur sitting by her feet, Elissa looked at the
two men. Moz’s gravely voice rumbled, Simon’s deep voice speaking
quietly with authority. Both so intent on getting to know each
other - though she thought it sounded more like an interrogation -
they didn’t even know she was right there listening.

Looking down
at Arthur, she caught him looking back up at her. He looked
distinctly disgruntled. Arthur didn’t like noisy mornings. He liked
to be woken gradually in his own sweet time. That didn’t include
having a rumbling mountain in his kitchen. Arthur, Elissa was fast
discovering, wanted Simon all to himself. He suffered Elissa, put
up with her cooing at him and loving him, but he preferred to sit
or lie down near Simon.

Not that the
cantankerous old fart would admit it. There he’d be on the other
end of the sofa from Simon, looking at him, and as soon as Simon
looked back at him, Arthur would flick his ears, squinch up his one
eye and look the other way. As soon as he thought Simon didn’t
notice he’d shuffle a little closer until finally he was hard up
against Simon’s side. Simon, bless his soft heart, stroked him
without looking. Arthur could then pretend he didn’t notice the
stroking and purr away.

The old fart
was one strange cat. Now he was a disgruntled old fart as well.
He’d just have to go and sulk in Simon’s room, because she was
going to check on Tilly. To be fair, she was supposed to be
house-sitting for Scott and Ash, so it was time to go back
there.

“I’m off,” she
called.

Moz
nodded.

Simon
swallowed his toast, strode across to her, dropped a Vegemite
flavoured kiss on her lips. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Try not to
kill each other.”

“We’ll do our
best.”

Elissa shot
her brother a warning look, which he took with a grin, then after
giving Arthur a quick pat - which he pretended didn’t happen -
Elissa picked up her shoulder bag and left.

Tilly was
disgruntled when Elissa entered the house. It seemed to be the day
for disgruntled cats.

Dropping her
shoulder bag on the hall side table, Elissa scooped Tilly up and
snuggled her, cooing and stroking. Tilly, however, was interested
in only one thing first. Food.

In the kitchen
Elissa filled her bowl with food then sat at the table and picked
up the note Ash had left for her, along with the little
gift-wrapped box.