Unsuitable (19 page)

He’d
run out of things to do when Audrey re-appeared. She sat at the table and
pointed to the chair right angled to her. He sat. He could tangle his feet with
hers. He could touch her hand resting on the table without any effort. He
waited.

“I’m
sorry about my mother. I forget how bad she can be and then she’s worse and I
wonder how I manage to block out her inexcusable behaviour, but I always do. Oddly,
growing up with Esther was good training for work; I’ve never met anyone quite
so passive aggressive as my own mum. This time though there was Mia to consider,
and there was you.”

He
started to object and she put her hand over his where it rested on his thigh. “You
matter, Reece. I keep thinking about what would have happened if you hadn’t
found me.”

“But
I did. And you’re going to be well again.”

“Les
said she would’ve called when I didn’t show at work, but I wouldn’t have heard
the phone and she wouldn’t have thought to come and check on me till much later
and that would’ve been too late.”

He’d
thought about this too. About what might’ve happened had it been a weekend. “Mia
also knows how to ring triple O.” He used his other hand to make a sandwich of
hers.

“She
does? Oh.” She frowned taking that in. “I should’ve told you about Merrill and
Joe being Mia’s guardians. I should have talked to them about something like
this happening. Barrett too, he had a right to know.”

“Audrey,
stop.”

“I
should know what Mia’s giraffe is called. I shouldn’t have kissed you. But I
did and I nearly died and now all I want to do is kiss you and it’s wrong, it’s
a horrible cliché. I’m your boss and you’re much younger and I’m—” He pushed the
table aside. “What are you doing?”

He
hooked his foot around the rung of her chair and dragged it towards him. “It
doesn’t matter about Merry and Joe. I’m not angry about what they did. They
were thinking of you. If I never see the stony expression you get on your face
when you’re dealing with your mother again, I’ll be a happy man. The giraffe’s
name is Harold, but it’s also Paula. It just depends.” He put his knuckles to
her cheek. “I couldn’t give a stuff about cliché. I wanted you to kiss me. I
want you to kiss me again. I want that a lot. I get that it’s confusing and
you’re still recovering. I’m here. For Mia, for you, for whatever it is you
think is us, for as long as you want.”

“I
don’t know what to say?”

“Say
you’ll rest and eat and get well. Say you’ll enjoy time off work with Mia. Say
you’ll let me care for you.” He almost said love. He closed his eyes. The old
Audrey would’ve taken control now, told him where his place was; prevented him
from doing anything terminally stupid. The Audrey in front of him was weary and
hurting and scared.

“I
want that.”

He
pulled her off the chair, stood her between his knees, holding her at the
waist. He gave her back her control. “You lead. You tell me what you want. I’ll
take my cues from you.”

“That’s
not—”

“It’s
fair.” He patted his knee and she sat. “It’s fair because I trust you.” And he
couldn’t rush this. If it was going to happen at all, it had to be because she
wanted it, not because she was confused or he pushed too hard.

“Reece,
I...”

He
kissed her. Firmly, deeply, so she understood what he wanted. She’d already led
him to kisses, to touching, to wanting more and holding off. He stepped up. For
the rest he’d wait. It had to be her choice. She had everything to lose and he
had nothing he wouldn’t trade.

Those
next few days, they established a routine. Audrey slept late. Reece got Mia out
of the house early to give her quiet. They met up for lunch. The afternoon was
for games and stories and learning things, time for mother and daughter to
cuddle in front of a Disney movie. As if to make up for her initial disinterest
in Audrey, Mia clung to her, followed her around, climbed into her bed at
night, stood outside the bathroom till she came out. The only place she wanted
to sit was Audrey’s lap. The only person she wanted to play with, or hear a
story from was Audrey. She tolerated him because she loved swimming, got hungry
and he was better at fixing things. He was otherwise odd man out and that left
him free to run the house.

He
watched Audrey relax, sleep away the dark patches under her eyes and lose the
fearful expression, the oddly hesitant quality she’d had. They didn’t kiss
again, but she accepted his casual touches and she initiated her own, touching
his arms and chest, his hair, walking into his embrace, reaching for his hand. If
she was testing him, it was working. He was the one who was tense. Now he knew
how to read her eyes, to see the desire in them, and it was a form of torture
not to be able to act on what he saw, to wait for her lead, like he’d promised.

A
week after she was home that changed. It’d been raining nonstop. Playgroup was
cancelled because half the kids had the flu. Mia was bored and cranky. She
wanted a fairy palace. It had to be pretty. And it had to be different to the
treehouse.

He
used the mattress from the garden daybed, every scatter pillow in the house, a
standard lamp, a portable beach igloo, a pink sheet and a long string of
Christmas fairy lights. Mia was never ever coming out of there. She was going
to live there. It fixed rainy day misery and caused an argument over where
meals would be eaten. Reece carried to Mia to bed when she fell asleep in her
palace.

When
he closed her bedroom door, Audrey took his hand. She led him to the fairy
palace. He thought she might want him to dismantle it, but she crawled inside.

“You’d
have made a mean fairy architect.”

He
laughed and squatted at the entrance. Audrey had settled on the mattress with a
mountain of pillows at her back. On top of the pillows was a jumble of soft
toys: snouts, tails, paws, ears, piled high in all shapes, sizes and colours. The
way he’d rigged the light meant a soft pink glow illuminated the space and the
fairy lights winked on and off in a slow rippling pattern. It smelled of
lavender laundry detergent, and in her loose casual clothing Audrey looked
young, healthy and happy.

“The
problem is I’m a giant.”

She
patted the mattress. “I think you’ll fit.”

If
it meant being right beside her, he’d try. He crawled in and the whole
structure creaked and shifted, a bear, a cow and a gorilla fell off the toy
stack. He and Audrey ended up lying on their sides, propped up by pillows. His
feet and shins stuck out and it was mighty uncomfortable for the thirty seconds
it took to realise he could lay flat and she’d tuck into his side. That was
comfortable for about five minutes and then it became impossible. He didn’t
want to be this close if he couldn’t act on it.

“Relax,
Reece.”

He
laughed and put his palm over his eyes. “Can’t.”

She
shifted, he felt something drag across his lower back and took his hand away
again. Audrey sat and tossed a stuffed octopus he’d been lying on out of the
tent.

“Better?”

“Nope.”

“Why
can’t you get comfortable?”

“Because
I don’t know what you want.”

She
leant over him, her leg over his hips, dangerously close to his chief source of
discomfort. He couldn’t hide it from her and he couldn’t stop his hands
spreading over her butt and holding her tight to him.

“I’m
feeling much better. Much better.”

She
felt incredible. “You still have the headache and the pins and needles.”

“Yes,
but it’s calmed down, bothers me less. I’ve put on some weight.”

He
doubted that. It gave him an excuse to check. He let his hands rove over her,
measuring, weighing, not quite caressing, because the minute he thought of it
as that was the point at which he’d betray how strung out he was. But she
melted into his touch so it was game over.

She
closed her eyes and leant into his touch. “Do I need a secret fairy spell or
are you going to start this make out session?”

She
started it by putting her mouth to his neck. A surprise attack. He pushed into
the pillows and grasped her under the thigh, pulling her further up and over
his body.

She
humming her approval and moved her mouth to his throat. It was going to get hot
in here, she was going to give his internal thermometer an almighty shove. He
touched her places he’d not touched her before: the inside of her knee, the
crest of her hipbone, her fluttering stomach. She moved her lips to his face
and groaned against his cheek when he filled his palm with her breast, the one
part of her that wasn’t down to angles, that was plump and full. When he rubbed
his thumb across her raised nipple she shuddered and surged closer to him,
finding his mouth at last.

No
one led. No one followed. The kiss had no owner, it bossed them both. There was
nothing magical or prettied up about it. It was greedy hungry and growling. It
was dangerously sly and grasping. It got deep and dirty quick and there were no
more niceties or polite disguises. No more fucking dancing around each other. No
one was recovering or being patient. No one was waiting. This was manic
attraction, hard core want, desire so slippery with heat and heart, Reece
forgot to be considerate. He took.

He
showed Audrey how much he wanted from her. He teased her body and loved her
mouth. He sucked her tongue and tasted her lips, stealing her breath and playing
her senses out on a long line of jitters and twitches, grinding of hips and
urgent touches.

He
made her gasp. She made his spine tingle. When she ran her hands under his
shirt, he got rid of it. She sat across his hips, her head almost grazing the
top of the palace, fairy lights winking around her and stared down at him.

“I’ve
wanted to see you like this.” She put both hands to the ridges of muscle at his
hips, ran them up his abs and over his ribs. She leant forward and nipped his
chin. “That night I was very late and you fell asleep on the couch. I watched
you for ages before I woke you. I had all kinds of fantasies about where I
wanted to touch my sleeping giant.”

He
grinned. He’d never have guessed that. That was the first night he’d touched
her with less than honourable intent. “Don’t let me stop you living those
fantasies now.”

She
ducked her head and licked his collarbone. He put his hand under the back of
her shirt and peeled it off her. Jesus, her ribs were too prominent, the bones
in her shoulders, too obvious. He touched her in all those places that needed
care. He lavished attention on the column of her neck, on her clavicle, on the
tops of her breasts. He kissed her jaw and her cheek and grazed on her earlobe
and she laughed at him and pushed away.

“My
turn.” She sat upright. He adjusted her position so she could feel him and her
eyes widened. “I’d wondered if you were proportional.” She rocked her pelvis. “Oh
God, that’s some proportion.” She closed her eyes and rolled her hips again and
it was his turn to moan. He couldn’t let her keep doing that, he’d wreck the
palace, crush the magic; he’d trash this slow, slaying sweetness of this
exploration. He didn’t want to rush it. He didn’t want backward glances,
morning regrets. She was worth more than the conquest, more than the ached for
tumble.

“You’re
beautiful, Audrey.” He arched as she slid against his length again. “But if you
keep doing, oh fuck, doing that, we’re gonna kill some fairies in here
tonight.” She did it again. He palmed her butt to stop her moving, lifting his
head and torso off the mattress. He was wedged in, might hurt her if he tried
to flip them. “Take it easy on me.”

She
laughed. “As if you need easy. Look at you.”

He
kissed her, broke it off sharply. “I don’t need it, but I want it, with you.”

She
speared her hand through his hair and stared at him. He had no idea what she
was thinking beyond giving him access to her body. He had no idea how far she’d
want to push this. If she was genuinely well enough.

She
met his lips with hers and he dragged her further up his body, bringing a knee
up to anchor her. His hands played all over her back, down her arms, while he
kissed her with enough deliberation to create a science of it. He mapped her
mouth and her body and marked them out as his and the feel of her in his arms
did wicked things to him. Made his head buzz, made his muscles burn, made him
want time stopped, the world shrunk so everything they needed always was in
each other and this magic pink lit tent.

It
got hot. Steamy. They knew how to kiss each other professionally now, with
expectation and denial, with all the grades and variants of wet pressure and
sucking release. But she was tiring, her movements slowing. Audrey’s skin got lusciously
moist. He could slide his mouth across the softness of her. Sweat beaded on his
chest. She licked it. He had no idea what kind of freaking alchemy that was. Some
telekinetic trick short-circuiting his inner compass. She did it again and he
felt himself spinning. He shook his head and the feeling remained and he didn’t
ever want it to go.

The
fairy palace was temporary, this temple of lust and want and need—he would
build it to last.