mug. Mmm, the Roxburgh holiday house had great coffee.
‘Have you eaten?’
Ethan’s voice in the quiet stillness startled her. With a sudden, involuntary full body jolt, her head flew up, the cup jerked in her hand and a stream of coffee formed an arc of brown in the air before depositing itself down the front of her t-shirt.
The hot liquid landed like a bucket of fire. She leaped to her feet, yanking at the front of her top. ‘Ow, ow!’ But the fit was snug and the fabric clung to her and the coffee burned all the way down as it ran into the top of her tights. She finally managed to haul the shirt over her head and flung it to the ground.
Ethan unfurled a tea-towel from his shoulder, dipped it in the glass of water he was holding and held them both out to her. ‘Here. Use this.’
Dee grabbed the glass, threw the water over her chest and gasped as ice cubes dropped like hailstones to the deck. She looked up at Ethan, saw he was teetering between alarm and laughter, and helped tip him over with a gusty hoot. ‘Wow, that was cold.’
‘I didn’t expect you to drown yourself in it. Are you okay?’
She glanced down. The coffee-stained cups of her ugly, old sports bra formed sentinels either side of a fat, pink trail of scorched skin that ran from her throat to the top of her tights. Below that, little rivulets of espresso dribbled down her bare calves and pooled around her feet on the deck.
‘I’m fine, I think. No serious damage.’
He stepped closer, holding the towel to her belly. Dee closed her lips over a groan of pleasure. She could smell his pine-fresh shampoo, feel his breath on her bare shoulder, his thigh against her hip. She watched in fascination as her skin went all goosebumpy under the pressure of his palm, felt it tingle sweetly all the way down her legs. Still holding the cloth to her burn, he took one of her hands and gently pressed it to his, letting his fingers slide out from underneath so she could hold it herself. ‘I’m sorry. I thought you knew I was there.’
She cleared her throat. ‘No, I thought everyone had gone to the vineyards.’ She’d been relieved when Lucy hadn’t insisted she join the excursion – she was meant to be earning money, not spending it on pricey lunches and wine.
‘Let me make you brunch while you clean yourself up. Do you need more ice?’
Some more of that bandage holding might be nice. ‘No, I’ll just stand under a cold shower. And food sounds great, thanks.’
By the time she’d changed, rinsed her clothes and hung them out to dry, Ethan had cleaned up the coffee mess, set the table and found another newspaper. Over scrambled eggs and toast, they passed the time of day briefly then settled into silence over the weekend news.
Probably relieved he doesn’t have to talk, Dee thought. He must think she was a complete idiot. He was so sensible and professional and she was a walking disaster whenever he wasaround. The tally was growing longer – cheesecakes in the face, escaping breasts, falling down, throwing coffee at herself. And why was she still hungry?
‘Do you mind if I have the last piece of toast?’ she asked.
‘Sure.’ He watched her with an amused tweak of the brow as she spread the jam. ‘You can really pack it away. I thought someone like you would eat like a bird.’
She bristled. ‘What do you mean someone like me?’
‘You’re tiny. Most women I know starve themselves to look like that.’
‘Actually, it takes some talent to keep this much weight on. I’ve got to eat enough to maintain my energy level but not so much that I throw up on a student’s carpet. Basically, I can’t eat a meal before a class, which makes it pretty hard when I teach all day.’
‘You must be famished by the time you get home at night.’
‘You’re not kidding. Mostly I survive on snacks and coffee then try to stock up on weekends.’
‘If I’d known, I would have cooked more.’ Ethan opened out his half of the newspaper. ‘Would
‘Have you eaten?’
Ethan’s voice in the quiet stillness startled her. With a sudden, involuntary full body jolt, her head flew up, the cup jerked in her hand and a stream of coffee formed an arc of brown in the air before depositing itself down the front of her t-shirt.
The hot liquid landed like a bucket of fire. She leaped to her feet, yanking at the front of her top. ‘Ow, ow!’ But the fit was snug and the fabric clung to her and the coffee burned all the way down as it ran into the top of her tights. She finally managed to haul the shirt over her head and flung it to the ground.
Ethan unfurled a tea-towel from his shoulder, dipped it in the glass of water he was holding and held them both out to her. ‘Here. Use this.’
Dee grabbed the glass, threw the water over her chest and gasped as ice cubes dropped like hailstones to the deck. She looked up at Ethan, saw he was teetering between alarm and laughter, and helped tip him over with a gusty hoot. ‘Wow, that was cold.’
‘I didn’t expect you to drown yourself in it. Are you okay?’
She glanced down. The coffee-stained cups of her ugly, old sports bra formed sentinels either side of a fat, pink trail of scorched skin that ran from her throat to the top of her tights. Below that, little rivulets of espresso dribbled down her bare calves and pooled around her feet on the deck.
‘I’m fine, I think. No serious damage.’
He stepped closer, holding the towel to her belly. Dee closed her lips over a groan of pleasure. She could smell his pine-fresh shampoo, feel his breath on her bare shoulder, his thigh against her hip. She watched in fascination as her skin went all goosebumpy under the pressure of his palm, felt it tingle sweetly all the way down her legs. Still holding the cloth to her burn, he took one of her hands and gently pressed it to his, letting his fingers slide out from underneath so she could hold it herself. ‘I’m sorry. I thought you knew I was there.’
She cleared her throat. ‘No, I thought everyone had gone to the vineyards.’ She’d been relieved when Lucy hadn’t insisted she join the excursion – she was meant to be earning money, not spending it on pricey lunches and wine.
‘Let me make you brunch while you clean yourself up. Do you need more ice?’
Some more of that bandage holding might be nice. ‘No, I’ll just stand under a cold shower. And food sounds great, thanks.’
By the time she’d changed, rinsed her clothes and hung them out to dry, Ethan had cleaned up the coffee mess, set the table and found another newspaper. Over scrambled eggs and toast, they passed the time of day briefly then settled into silence over the weekend news.
Probably relieved he doesn’t have to talk, Dee thought. He must think she was a complete idiot. He was so sensible and professional and she was a walking disaster whenever he wasaround. The tally was growing longer – cheesecakes in the face, escaping breasts, falling down, throwing coffee at herself. And why was she still hungry?
‘Do you mind if I have the last piece of toast?’ she asked.
‘Sure.’ He watched her with an amused tweak of the brow as she spread the jam. ‘You can really pack it away. I thought someone like you would eat like a bird.’
She bristled. ‘What do you mean someone like me?’
‘You’re tiny. Most women I know starve themselves to look like that.’
‘Actually, it takes some talent to keep this much weight on. I’ve got to eat enough to maintain my energy level but not so much that I throw up on a student’s carpet. Basically, I can’t eat a meal before a class, which makes it pretty hard when I teach all day.’
‘You must be famished by the time you get home at night.’
‘You’re not kidding. Mostly I survive on snacks and coffee then try to stock up on weekends.’
‘If I’d known, I would have cooked more.’ Ethan opened out his half of the newspaper. ‘Would
Similar Books
