Tangled Vines: An Australian Rural Romance (7 page)

Sitting at the beach would only bring up more memories. Memories he didn’t want to deal with. He stood and grabbed his board. Facing Jordan and her sexy body at the house seemed a better alternative than reliving a time he couldn’t change. Nothing he did would ever bring back his parents or sister.

• • •

Kyle set his board against the side of the shed and grabbed the hose to wash off the sand and salt.

“Did you have a good surf?”

He whipped around, spraying Jordan with the hose. “Shit. Sorry.”

Jordan laughed. “It’s okay, I was hot but,” she looked down at her wet shirt, “we really do have to stop meeting like this.”

Yeah, like walking in on her in the shower. He’d never touched her breasts, but he felt like he knew them intimately.

Her flirting surprised him. He didn’t expect it from her. Especially not after the way they’d parted the night before. He’d all but left her hanging for a kiss in the kitchen. But his body remembered how it felt to have her in his arms. His lips on hers. Like last night.

Jordan didn’t need to see the tenting in his board shorts. He turned the hose on himself, hoping the water would cool him off. He shook his head, the water spraying around him. With his erection subsiding, he chanced a look at her.

Her eyes were wide and fixed squarely on his bare chest, her tongue running over her lips.

He threw the hose down and strode over to where she stood. Damn the consequences. Their bodies communicated in a way they had yet to work out.

How could this need for her be so strong when he’d only met her the previous day? He’d never believed in lust at first sight, but hell, he believed in it now. He lusted after her and fighting it didn’t make sense. Perhaps losing himself in Jordan’s softness would make his dark memories easier to deal with.

Kyle placed his hands on either side of her face. “Forgive me,” he whispered before tilting her head so he could get maximum access to her lips. Her mouth opened beneath his the moment his lips touched hers.

Heaven.

Having her hands on his flesh could only be described as heaven. He widened his stance and brought her closer to him. The erection he’d doused with cold water flared to life again. He didn’t care if Jordan felt his need for her. He wanted her to. He wanted to lose himself within her softness.

As their tongues dueled and her hands roamed over his chest, he wanted to lay her down on the ground and take her. Drive into her and replace his bad memories with sweet ones.

Kyle wrenched his mouth away from her. He couldn’t do this to Jordan. He couldn’t use her to help him forget. It would be cruel.

She deserved someone who could give her a future. Who cared for her body, mind and soul. Not someone out to slake a guilt because he survived when his family hadn’t. His punishment was to live his life alone.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. He turned and strode down the driveway toward the road. The surf sucked so maybe a walk would help him get his thoughts under control.

• • •

Jordan stood, wet shirt and all by the shed as Kyle disappeared from her view.

She grabbed her arm and pinched it. Yep, she hadn’t dreamt the kiss. Hadn’t dreamt the desperation she’d seen in his eyes before he kissed her. Hadn’t dreamt the desolation replacing the desperation.

She let out a scream of frustration. Kyle Davis had the potential to drive her insane. For the sake of her own sanity she needed to keep herself as far away from him as possible. She would keep her end of the bargain and prepare all the meals. Apart from that she’d spend her time closeted away in her room. She would stay at the house. Today Dad’s apartment smelled even worse than it had the previous evening. How that was possible she had no idea. She’d move the TV from Dad’s place and put it in her room in Kyle’s house. That way she’d have something to occupy her evenings. The Christmas movies were on and she loved to watch them. She needed to put the tree up. Christmas was only a few days away. Dad’s decorations had been sitting at the top of a cupboard so they weren’t damaged. All she had to do was go into town and buy a tree.

But not today. Today she still had rows to attend to and a shirt to change out of. And a kiss to put out of her mind. For a moment she’d wanted to sink to the ground and let Kyle take her.

Turning, she strode toward the house, unbuttoning her shirt as she went and hoping that Kyle stayed away for a few more hours.

Jordan admired the tree she’d spent the last couple of hours decorating. Hopefully, Kyle liked it whenever he surfaced from wherever he’d hidden himself from her. She’d given up asking what he was doing. He left in the early hours of morning to go surfing and, because she was out working on the vines, she never saw him arrive home.

He hadn’t been around for dinner after their kiss in the garden, and the next morning she woke to a note saying he didn’t require her to cook for him. Part of her was relieved and another disappointed that they wouldn’t spend time together. So she told him it seemed pointless for him to cook a separate meal. He agreed and they sat through two stilted meals before he began to take his food to his study, where he didn’t emerge for hours.

It shouldn’t matter what Kyle did with his time. He was simply the guy she worked for. Getting involved with Kyle would be the world’s worst idea, given her track record with men. Even if he was sexier and made her feel things she’d never felt with other guys before.

She added a final ornament and began to pack up the empty boxes.

“What the fuck is that tree doing in my house?”

Crap, she’d recognize that tone anywhere. Kyle pissed—what else was new?

“It’s Christmas time.”

“I don’t care what time of year it is. Get rid of the tree.”

His fists clenched tightly by his side. His eyes were golden, instead of their normal hazel color, like a fire lit their depths. Jordan had seen Kyle annoyed at her. But this time … this time was like nothing she’d ever seen.

“What’s wrong with having a tree? You can’t have Christmas without a tree.” She hoped by responding lightly it would alleviate some of the anger radiating out of him. As he strode closer toward her, Jordan braced herself for the onslaught she suspected he was about to unleash.

Kyle reached out and pulled an ornament off the tree. She watched as he turned the red ball with gold glitter in his hand. His eyes, moments ago burning with anger, now dulled in pain.

With a closing of his hand, the delicate ornament shattered, the pieces raining down on the floor.

“Kyle,” she cried. “Why did you do that?” She rushed over to take his hand to check to see if he’d injured himself.

He pulled his hand away before she could get to it. “Don’t touch me. I don’t do Christmas trees. I don’t
do
Christmas. Get that tree and everything on it out of my house. And you can go, too. I don’t care how much it costs, you find a hotel room. Just do it. I’ll foot the bill. I want you out of my house.”

He turned on his heel, leaving Jordan dumbfounded. As the front door slammed shut she let the breath she was holding whoosh out of her.

Never before has she seen someone react so badly to a Christmas tree. What had happened that Kyle disliked Christmas so much? His reaction wasn’t him being a Grinch or a Scrooge. This was an intense, emotional response to Christmas.

Was this why he came to this house for December?

Was this why he expected her father to vacate the property?

Was this why he didn’t want her here?

Jordan walked over to the tree, the broken ornament pieces crunching beneath her feet. She stared holes in it, hoping it could give her an answer to Kyle’s reaction. She sat on the couch and looked around the room. It was still as sparse as she noticed the first time she walked into the room. The coldness of the house. The lack of emotion in the rooms.

During the last few nights, Kyle had disappeared into his study after dinner. One night she approached the door, expecting to hear him on the phone or at least watching something on the television she knew was in the room. Except there was nothing. No sounds at all reached out to her.

Instead of knocking, she returned to her room, respecting his privacy. It was better that she keep herself away from him, concentrate on the job at hand of getting the vines to cultivate and nurture the small bunches of grapes growing, for both their sakes. Her goal was to create wine, not fall for a man who closeted himself away from everyone at the one time of year when you should be surrounded by family.

Well, that’s how she always celebrated her Christmas. She always loved Christmas with her dad even though it had been the two of them for so many years. Her mum had always made the season special, and after she died when Jordan was thirteen, her dad had done everything to make it memorable for her. This year Dad thought she’d be spending the time with Don, so he’d made other plans and now he wasn’t going to let his broken leg stop him from going on his trip.

It would be weird not celebrating the day with him.

Jordan looked back at the tree. The tree she’d spent the last couple of hours decorating. Sighing deeply, she picked up one of the boxes she’d emptied.

She would take the tree down because Kyle’s distress at seeing it was palpable, but she had no plans to leave Kyle’s house. She couldn’t do it. She’d seen the pain lurking beneath the anger. Even though she didn’t want to get involved, she couldn’t walk away from him. No matter how many times he demanded.

• • •

Kyle watched the sun dip lower and lower beneath the horizon. The waves rolled gently to the shore before rushing back out again. He lifted the bottle and took another swig of the scotch he’d taken from the house on his way out.

No amount of alcohol could dim the memory of the shock on Jordan’s face when he reacted to the sight a Christmas tree in his living room. He hated that he had to hurt her, but he couldn’t face seeing a beautifully decorated tree. Too many memories of his childhood Christmases bombarded his brain. His dad lifting him to put the star on the top of the tree. Then years later his dad holding Emily up so she could put the star up. Then his mum would come in with a tray of freshly baked cupcakes and everyone would sit around and watch a Christmas movie.

He squeezed his eyelids shut, in the hope it would keep the tears at bay. He didn’t cry. He hadn’t cried for nearly eleven years. Not since the day he’d buried his family.

He picked up the bottle and took another long swallow. He had a nice buzz going, but he knew he needed to go back to the house. A house he hoped was empty of a Christmas tree and a certain woman.

He had stayed away from her since the kiss in the backyard. He didn’t trust himself not to kiss her again every time he was within reach of her. Just one taste and he forgot the pain and loneliness that had been a constant companion.

Pushing thoughts of Jordan and her sweet body out of his mind, he stood and staggered slightly.

He managed to walk to the car park and was about to get in his late model BMW but had the sense to stop. How the hell was he going to get home now? He couldn’t even see straight let alone be able to drive in a straight line. He slumped down and rested his back against the driver’s door. He was in for a long wait.

Kyle pulled into his driveway as the first fingers of dawn inched across the horizon, his house looming like a dark, unwelcoming monolith.

He knew Jordan woke early and wondered if she’d be awake when he went inside. He stopped his thoughts, a sense of disappointment filling him. Jordan wouldn’t be there. He’d told her to leave. His house would be empty. Empty like it always had been—until recently. Part of him hoped Jordan’s stubbornness would keep her in his house, compel her to ignore what he said like she’d ignored his demands for her to leave that first morning.

He parked his car and got out, groaning as he stretched, his back clicking in relief after being stuck in the car while he slept off the buzz he’d created at the beach. He reached in and pulled out the bottle. There was an inch left in the bottom. He lifted the Scotch to his lips, ready to swallow the contents, but stopped at the last minute. For so many years he’d used alcohol as a way to dull the pain. If anything, it only intensified his feelings of loss and desolation.

He tipped the bottle upside down and watched the scotch drizzle out onto the ground. When it was empty he strode to the house, the bottle tucked under his arm.

As he walked in the lights flicked on. He blinked rapidly at the sudden brightness, accentuating the pounding in his head. Hell, he needed some painkillers.

“What the—?” he started.

“Where have you been?” Before he had a chance to answer she continued on. “Have you been
drinking?
Did you drive
drunk
? Are you insane?”

With each word she spoke her voice rose higher and higher, only increasing the pounding in his head.

“Can you please talk quietly?” he asked.

“Why? Is your head hurting? Oh poor Kyle. Serves you right.”

He wasn’t planning on admitting just how much his head hurt. “I didn’t drive drunk. I spent the night sleeping in my car.”

Skepticism replaced the anger in Jordan’s eyes. “Really?” She leaned in and sniffed, her nose wrinkling in distaste. “You smell like a scotch bottle.”

If he had the energy Kyle would’ve laughed. Instead he placed the bottle on the floor near the back door. He walked over to the kitchen table and, pulling out a chair, he sat down. He rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes. He needed to take a hot shower and sleep the day away.

He could hear Jordan moving around the kitchen, cupboard doors opening and closing. He thought he might have drifted off to sleep for a moment.

“Here you go.”

He cracked open an eyelid and saw Jordan’s hands in front of him, two white pills sitting in the middle of one palm and a glass of water held in the other. Reaching out, he took the pills and popped them in his mouth. He then grabbed the glass and swallowed the contents. He grimaced as the pills stuck in his throat. With a cough he dislodged them.