Lean on Me (The Mackay Sisters) (2 page)

“Goodnight, Matt.”

Striding over to the fence
separating their backyards, Matt braced his hands on top of it and pulled
himself up and over easily, landing in his backyard and right into a puddle.

Muttering to himself, he trudged
to his house, pulling the keys from his pocket as he climbed up onto the
veranda.  Unlocking the door, he toed his wet sneakers off before entering the
house.

Work called.  Duty beckoned. 
Lives to save, sick people to help.

And one beautiful neighbour that
would be waiting for him when he returned home.

Okay, that last was a daydream,
but he wanted it to come true. 

Letting the hot water from the
shower chase away the chill, he slid the soap over his body and contemplated
the dilemma.  Everyone told him how shy Lori was, how she avoided dates, how it
didn’t take much to make her wary and retreat.  He just had to figure out how
to get her to give him a chance without spooking her.

~*~

Standing at the security screen
door, Lori watched Matt haul himself easily over the fence.

There was no way she could miss
the impressive flex of biceps as his sodden, long-sleeved t-shirt stuck to his
body.  In fact, that sodden t-shirt was stuck to every inch of his chest and
back…every luscious, muscular inch.  Not one flex, not one bunch, not one
movement of muscle was missed.

Nice. 
Very
nice.

Stroking Minx in her arms, Lori sighed
in appreciation.  Matt Winters was gorgeous in every sense of the word.  Tall,
dark-haired, dark-eyed, with a killer smile and a body to give a woman hot
dreams on a cold night.  Or a warm night, for that matter.  Matt had arrived in
the summer months and now the chill of autumn had arrived, and she’d certainly
had some hot dreams during both seasons.

Yep, dreams of Matt Winters had
certainly kept her hotly entertained at night, or given her mix of shift work,
days.  Close her eyes and at least four sleeps out of seven, there he’d be with
his killer body, killer smile, and dark, dark eyes.

How could a girl not look forward
to bedtime?

Unfortunately, dreams were not
reality.  Reality was that Matt was a hot paramedic while she was a dumpy
little chick who pumped fuel for a living.  She was neither outwardly confident
like her sister, Ali, nor beautiful or anything else that would attract a man
like Matt.  Or any man she was interested in which, to be truthful, there had
been none in all her years.

Returning to the kitchen, she
gently set Minx on the floor and crossed to the stove where a saucepan bubbled,
the delicious smell of stew filling the air.  Lifting the lid, she took the
wooden spoon off the kitchen sink and gave the stew a stir.

Nope, no man had ever captured her
attention.  A couple had tried, true, but after several disastrous dates she’d
rebuffed the rest.  Not that she’d actually had many offers anyway, and she was
sure it had nothing to do with her rebuffing a couple.  In her experience, not
many men cast a woman built like her a second glance, much less even bothered
with a first good look.

Then again, her sister, Ali, was a
big woman, and she’d dated a lot before she’d realised that Ghost was the one
for her.

But that was life.  She shrugged
inwardly.  Besides, she wasn’t interested, not one man had made her heart pick
up pace or her pulse flutter, not one had had her giving
him
a second
glance.  Except Matt, and he was just a fantasy.  Even if a man was interested
- and that would be a miracle - it seemed a waste of time to go out with
someone who didn’t attract her.  Besides, she just wasn’t that good with
dating, she always felt like she was lacking, like she had something to prove.

“Which I don’t,” she informed
Minx, who sat watching her from beside the kitchen bench.

Replacing the lid on the saucepan,
she looked through the window at the house next door.  Matt’s house.  And the
puzzle that was Matt.  Why had he bothered to come into her yard in the driving
rain to simply inform her it wasn’t wise to go out in the rain?  He’d certainly
seemed a little embarrassed when she’d questioned him.  Maybe that was the
thing, maybe it had been a spur of the moment feeling sorry for the spinster
standing in the rain with her cat.

Shaking her head, Lori looked down
Minx.  “Men, sweetie, are weird.  Seriously weird.”

Minx just did her slow blink
before looking at her empty food bowl in an unsubtle hint.

Laughing, Lori retrieved a can of
cat food from the cupboard and opened the tin, spooning the contents into the
bowl.  With a small
mrrrp
of pleasured anticipation, Minx trotted across
and sat down to eat primly. 

Pushing all thoughts of Matt to
the back of her mind, Lori turned the stove off and spooned stew into a bowl,
setting on the table to cool.  Glancing at the clock, she wondered if Ali was
going to be home soon.

No sooner had the thought crossed
her mind than the front door slammed and the sound of Ali’s high heels clicked
across the lino as she walked down the hall.  “Honey, I’m home!”

“You know, Ghost is rubbing off on
you,” Lori called back.

“In more ways than one.”  Ali
peeked around the corner of the doorway with a smirk.  “And while we’re away
for the week on holiday, I’m hoping for a lot more rubbing.”

“Yeah, let’s not go there.”  Lori
gestured to the saucepan.  “Are you eating home tonight, or going to feast on
Ghost?”

“Are we talking metaphorically
feasting on Ghost?”

“What do you think?”

Ali pursed her lips.  “Hmmm. 
Metaphorically isn’t as much fun.”

“And there are some things sisters
just don’t share.”

“I don’t share Ghost.”

Lori levelled her a look.

Ali grinned.

“Stew?” Lori asked.

“Seeing as I can’t eat Ghost, yes
please.”  Ali disappeared back into the hall.  “I’m going to shower quickly and
change.  Do I have time?”

“I’ll leave yours in the saucepan
to stay hot.”

“Thanks.”

Sitting at the table, Lori stirred
the stew with the spoon.  One day soon she’d be sitting at the table on her
own.  Ali would be married to Ghost and she’d live over in his house, popping
over only for a visit.  It’d just be Lori and Minx living in the old house that
had belonged to their grandmother.  No Ali and her disastrous dates to entertain
and amuse.

Oh, she was more than glad that
Ali and her best friend, Ghost, were going to marry.  They’d known Ghost for
most of their lives, and he and Ali were a perfect match, but it would change
some things.  It had to, it was a part of life.

“Blah.”  She knocked the spoon
against the side of the bowl.  “Just gotta suck it up, Minx.”  She watched the
old ginger cat carefully washing her face.  “But we’ll be fine, you and me. 
We’ll always be fine.”

Pausing in her ablutions, Minx
studied Lori’s face before getting up slowly and walking across the floor to
sit at her feet.

Smiling, Lori picked her up
carefully and set her on her lap, where Minx settled down, purring.  It didn’t
make eating very comfortable, but Lori didn’t mind.

It wasn’t long after that Ali
entered the kitchen wearing comfortable winter pants and a long-sleeved
t-shirt.  It didn’t fit her as interestingly as Matt’s had fitted him, though
Ghost would have disagreed.

The sisters spent a pleasant time
eating and chatting about the day before Lori finally stood up, sitting Minx on
the dining room chair as she did so.  “Okay, I better go and shower, get ready
for work.”

“Ill clean up, shall I?” Ali eyed
the empty bowls.

“So nice of you to offer.”

“Ha ha.  Just imagine, a week away
starting tomorrow, me and Ghost and those haunted houses he wants to check out.
Eating out every night-”

“Paper plates and plastic knives
and forks?”

“You betcha.”

Laughing, Lori headed for the
doorway.  “You going over to see Ghost later?”

“Yep.”

“Can you make sure Minx is settled
with a hot wheat pack first?  She’s a little stiffer than normal.”

Ali stroked the old cat, concern
on her face. “She’s had her medicine?”

Lori nodded.  “Just make sure
she’s settled warm and comfy before you go over, just in case you don’t come
back tonight.”

A smile curved Ali’s mouth.  “What
makes you think that?”

Lori rolled her eyes while Ali
laughed.

By the time Lori left the house,
Ali had the wheat pack in the microwave and Minx was already ensconced on
Lori’s bed.

Lucky cat.  Standing on the front veranda,
Lori held the umbrella up and sighed.  Nights like this were meant to be spent
in bed, warm and cosy with a good book.

Sure as hell wasn’t going to be
with a good man.

Shaking her head at her thoughts, she
jumped down off the veranda and sprinted for the car, beeping it open with the
lock control on the key so she could open the door without hesitation.  It
didn’t stop her from getting a little wet as she battled the umbrella, but
finely the door was shut and she was safe from the rain.

The drive to the service station
was done slower than normal as the rain drove down with a vengeance.  Pulling
in behind the service station in the staff car park, Lori took a deep breath
before opening the door, popping open the umbrella and making a run for the
servo.

Unfortunately, even the umbrella
couldn’t stop her pants from getting wet and she arrived in the small service
area dripping wet and breathing heavily.

“Bit wet out there?” Shaun asked,
peering over his glasses at her.

Whatever gave you that idea?” 
Lori shook the umbrella out.

The middle-aged owner of the
service station smoothed one hand over his bald head as he leaned forward in
his executive chair to study the floor.  “Floor’s wet.  You’re dripping all
over it.”

“It was already wet before I came
in,” she replied.  “I’ll just put this away and get the mop.

“Grand idea.  Just grand.”  Shaun
disappeared back behind his newspaper.

Knowing that was all she was going
to get from her employer, Lori padded into the back room and through to the
sheltered little porch.  Propping the umbrella against the wall, she returned
to the backroom and retrieved a spare pair of pants from her locker, going into
the staff toilet to change.  Her wet pants she took back out to the porch and
slung over one of the hooks on the wall to drip dry.

Leaving her car keys in the
locker, she returned to the service area and peered out through the window.  At
least she’d be sheltered from the rain when she went out to fuel up cars, the
huge verandas covering the service lane and bowsers extending to the service
station itself.  Small blessings.

No sooner had she thought that
than a car pulled up, the small bell sounding as the tyres went over the cable.

“Car,” Shaun announced
unnecessarily, just as he always did every time.  His newspaper didn’t move,
the only thing showing the faint shine of his bald head partially above it.

After having worked at the servo
for a number of years, Lori was well used to her boss.  Opening the door, she
shivered slightly as a cold gust of wind blew inside, sending Shaun’s newspaper
rustling.

“Door,” he said without moving.

The rain was pelting down,
thundering above on the veranda roof, yet Lori had to admit that she rather
liked this kind of weather.  Wild, untamed, marooning everyone in isolation. 
In an odd way, she found it peaceful.

Recognising the car, Lori walked
around to the driver’s window and leaned down.  “Mrs Swanson? What are you
doing out on a night like this?”

“Picking up bread rolls.” 
Exasperated, Mrs Swanson rolled her eyes.  “Can you believe it?  A restaurant
with no bread rolls.  Our delivery this morning was short but the cook forgot
to mention it to me.  Her son had just phoned to say that his wife was in
labour and cook left in a flap, completely forgetting to tell me about the
bread rolls.  Can you imagine?”

Actually, Lori could, but she
wisely just shook her head.  Seeking to smooth things down a little, she asked,
“Are you sure you’ll have customers on a night like this?”

“One must always be prepared,
dear.”  Mrs Swanson glanced pointedly at her watch.  “I must get back.”

“Of course.  How much?”

“Fill ‘er up, there’s a good
girl.”

“No worries, Mrs Swanson.  Pop the
cap.”

Within minutes the local
restaurant owner was nothing more than tail lights disappearing into the
driving rain.

Knowing that nights like this
wouldn’t bring much traffic unless they were travellers determined to push on
to the next town, Lori started back towards the service station, only to stop
as a grey ute pulled into the petrol bowser.

Swinging back around, she walked
around to the driver’s window and bent down once more.  “Tommy?”

The café owner did not look
happy.  His jaw was clenched, a muscle ticking beside his grimly set lips. 
“’Evening, Lori.”

Not normally one to pry, Lori hesitated. 
Should she ask?  But no, if the man wanted to tell her anything he would, so
until then she’d mind her business.  “Fill ‘er up?”

“Thanks.”

Moving back down the ute, she
unscrewed the old fashioned fuel cap and fit the fuel nozzle into the opening. 
While she waited, the numbers ticking over on the fuel bowser, she watched from
the corner of her eye as Tommy got out of the ute.

The café owner was only a couple
of years older than her, she’d known him since primary school.  Even a couple
of grades ahead of her, Tommy was well known.  Heck, everyone who was born and
grew up in the small town of Peeron knew each other.  Some were best friends,
some just good mates, some just nodding acquaintances, but everyone knew
everyone else.  Some better than most, true, and some a lot quieter and more secretive.