Jill Shalvis - Aussie Rules

Dimi looked at the flickering wick, inhaled the incredibly soothing scent. “No?”

“No.”

Dimi shook her head as the phone began to ring. “Gotta go.” She switched lines. “North Beach.”

“Dimi.”

Hmmm, deep, mysterious male voice. So far so good. “Yes,” she said. “Can I help you?”

“It’s Todd.”

Todd. She didn’t know a-

“From the other night.”

Dimi went still.

“I came in on my brother’s jet with some other guys, and we-”

“I remember.” Previously Gorgeous Guy.

“Did you like the candle?”

Leaning forward, she blew out the candle, watched the thin line of smoke rise into the air. “I’m hanging up now. Don’t call me again.”

“Wait-I just wanted to apologize, and-”

“Apology accepted. Good-bye.” She clicked off and tossed the candle in the trash. Then, on second thought, pulled it out and left it on the corner of her desk as a reminder that she made bad decisions, and in light of that…no more men. Not a single one.

Mel sat at her desk and stared at her phone. Today was the day she’d hear from her attorney, and knowing that had her body quivering with a high level of awareness.

Or maybe that was just from yet another long night of sensual dreams in which she’d let Bo strip off more than her coveralls, in a world where he could press her naked up against the Hawker and take her…

Jeez, the porno dreams had to stop! She’d managed to avoid Bo this morning by sheer luck, because he’d flown out early and had stayed out. A good thing because he was so damn potently, outrageously, dangerously sexy, she could hardly stand it.

He had customers waiting for him. Turned out he was a popular guy, and had a lot of connections.

Not only that, but he’d brought business into North Beach, a lot of it. Every day someone new stopped by-someone he’d recommended the place to, for fuel or maintenance…or to hire him to find them an antique aircraft. He was single-handedly saving North Beach. She didn’t really want to think about that, so instead she went into the café for something bad for her.

Charlene was there, gushing all over one of her customers, a woman with a young baby, both of whom had come in on a flight and were waiting on maintenance. The baby was wailing away, little arms and legs bicycling like crazy, her face bright red from the efforts.

“Wow,” Mel said, realizing the kid was actually putting out more decibels than Van Halen on the radio, and that was saying something. “She’s got a set of lungs.”

The mother, looking a little harassed, blew out a breath. “Got that from her daddy. She likes to listen to herself all night long.”

“Give her here.” Char cuddled her close. “Ah, look at you,” she cooed with a smile. “You’re such a pretty thing.”

The full-out wail lessened slightly. “Yeah, that’s it,” Char murmured, stroking her fingers over the baby’s forehead. “That’s it. You’re nearly all done now, aren’t you?”

And unbelievably, the crying stopped.

They all stared at the baby, who looked up at Char with huge, soaked eyes and trembly rosebud mouth.

“My God,” the mother breathed. “Whatever you’re doing, don’t stop.”

Char smiled down at the baby. “Oh, look at you, you’re so precious.”

Al came out of the kitchen, saw the baby in his wife’s arms, took in the look on her face, and sighed. “Ah, man.”

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Char asked him.

“Beautiful, now give her back.”

Char chuckled. “Isn’t he silly?” she asked the baby. “Go away, Al.”

“It’s that look in your eyes,” he said uneasily. “Like you want another.”

“Because I do.”

Al went pale. “Okay, seriously. Give the baby back, Char.”

She just kept cuddling the baby, a secret smile on her face.

“Honey? We’re past all this baby stuff, remember,” Al said, sounding a little desperate. “No diapers. No midnight interruptions. Life’s good, Char, really good. We’re in the home stretch, in the clear, you know?”

“I’m just holding her, Al.”

“Okay,” he said, then nodded. “Okay, then. That’s good.” He nodded again, hesitated, then went back into the kitchen.

Char smiled at Mel. “Yeah, I’m just holding her.” She leaned in. “And wanting another one.”

Mel glanced at Al in the kitchen.

“Oh, don’t worry about him. I’ll promise him sex every night, he’ll be fine. He’s a great daddy…”

Mel’s brain had caught and snagged on sex every night. She imagined herself with someone, making love every night, and before she could stop the thought, her brain plugged Bo into that equation.

Whoa.

Momentarily struck by that image, she had to shake it off, but it took her an embarrassingly long time to do so.

“Mel? What’s the matter?” Char asked.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.” Mel fanned air in front of her face. Sheesh. “Gotta go.” And she took herself and her letter to the post office. Unfortunately, it was lunchtime, and the rest of the free world was there, too. She had to park around the block, and by the time she got inside she was panting from the heat, sweating unattractively, and felt like her heart no longer fit inside her chest.

The same guy was behind the counter and he looked as unhappy at his job today as he had yesterday. He glanced at her and sighed. “He’s got the flu, lady. You’ll have to come back.”

“Are you kidding me? No one else can run the machine? How hard can it be?”

“Hard.”

“Look, can I see the manager?”

“I am the manager.”

Great. Perfect. She drove in the heat back to North Beach and faced yet another unpleasant surprise as she walked in the door.

“Line one,” Dimi called out. “Attorney.”

Their eyes met. Mel’s heart stopped. “I’ll take it in the office,” she said as if her world hadn’t just stopped spinning. She ran down the hall, skidded to a stop in front of her desk, then stared at the phone as if it were a spitting cobra. “Grow up,” she told herself, and picked up the phone.

“Got news,” Greg said.

Mel couldn’t breathe and her legs felt like rubber. “Okay.”

“You should probably sit.”

Right. She fell into her chair. “Sitting. Go.”

“The deed Bo Black has in his possession is legit.”

Dimi burst into the office, took one look at Mel’s face, and sank to a chair.

“Sally deeded North Beach,” Greg continued. “And all its possessions, except for what’s in the individually rented hangars, to Eddie Black. When Eddie Black died, everything he owned went to his sole beneficiary-Bo Black.”

“How long ago?” Mel asked.

“Ten years.”

She’d been working for Bo for ten years. Worse, Sally had known all this time…Every time she’d called, she’d known. Every time she’d drained the accounts, she’d known. Every time she’d asked Mel how things were, she’d known…“How did you find out?” she asked hoarsely.

“City records. Not that hard to find, actually. In fact, anyone could look this sort of thing up and get answers.”

Mel thought of the e-mail note and the letter she’d received. “Can anyone figure out that I went looking?”

“These days, with computer trails and such, yes.”

Mel nodded, then realized he couldn’t see her. “Thanks,” she managed, hung up, and thunked her head to the desk. “My God.”

“There has to be a reason,” Dimi said. “He threatened her. Something.”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely.”

Bo was still away on his flight, but Mel knew she’d have to face him eventually. Knowing it felt like torture. For the next few hours, her pulse beat unevenly, and she kept breaking out into a sweat.