them was in the past and they weren’t going to speak of it again. They definitely weren’t going to act on it again.
Just roomies. That was the deal-breaker, she’d said.
And he’d agreed. After all, it hadn’t seemed too difficult over a thousand kilometres away. But standing in front of her door like this, the reality of her looming, was an entirely different prospect. He felt like a nervous teenager, which was utterly idiotic.
Where was the country guy who could rope a cow, ride a horse, mend a fence and fix just about any engine? Where was the paramedic who could do CPR for an hour, stabilise a trauma victim in the middle of nowhere in the pouring rain, smash a window or rip off a door and insert an IV practically hanging upside down like a bat in the shell of car crashed halfway down a mountain?
That’s who he was. So he could share a home, in a purely platonic way, with a woman he was hot for.
Because he was a grown man, damn it!
Hamish knocked quickly before he stood any longer staring at the door like he’d lost his mind. His hand shook and his pulse spiked as the sound of her footsteps drew nearer.
The door opened abruptly and Lola stood there in her uniform. He wondered absently if she was going to or coming from work as his body registered more basic details. Like her gorgeous green eyes and the blonde curls pulled back into a loose plait at her nape, just as it had been that night at Billi’s.
Suddenly he was back there again, remembering how much she’d touched him that night. Emotionally. How much he’d wanted to comfort her. To ease the burden so clearly weighing heavily on her shoulders.
To make her smile.
She smiled at him now and he blinked and came back to the present. It was the kind of smile she’d given him when she’d first met him on the harbour bridge that morning—friendly and open. The kind of smile reserved for a best friend’s brother or a new roomie. Like they were buddies. Mates.
Like he’d never been inside her body.
She’d obviously put what had happened between them behind her. Way, way behind her.
‘Hey, you.’ She leaned forward, rising on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek.
Like a sister.
It was such an exaggeratedly platonic kiss but his body tensed in recognition anyway. She was soft and warm and smelled exactly like he remembered, and he fought the urge to turn his head and kiss her properly.
She pulled back and smiled another friendly smile and he forced himself to relax. Forced himself to lounge lazily in the doorway and pretend he didn’t want to be inside her again. Right now. Because he really, really did.
This is what you agreed to, dumbass.
‘That all you got?’ She tipped her chin at his battered-looking duffel bag.
Hamish glanced down, pleased to have some other direction to look. ‘Should I have more?’ She didn’t seem impressed by his ninja packing skills.
She tutted and shook her head. ‘After two months in the city you’ll need that for your skin products alone.’
Laughter danced in her eyes and Hamish was impressed with her ability to act like nothing had happened between them while he felt stripped bare. Lola Fraser was as cool as a cucumber.
‘I’ll have you all metrosexual before you know it.’
Hamish laughed. Was that what she liked in a man? A guy who spent more time in front of the mirror than she did? Who used skin care products and waxed places that he wouldn’t let hot wax anywhere near? ‘Thanks. I’m happy with the way I am.’
And so were you. He suppressed the urge to give voice to the thought. He wasn’t naive enough to think he’d been anything other than a port in a storm for Lola. A convenient distraction. He’d known full well what he’d been agreeing to that night.
Hell, he’d been more than happy to be used.
‘Ah I see. You can take the boy out of the country—’
‘But not the country out of the boy.’ He laughed again as he finished the saying.
She grinned and said, ‘We’ll see,’ then stood aside. ‘Come on in.’
Hamish picked up his duffel bag and followed her inside. Lola gave him a quick tour even though he was familiar with the layout from that night three months ago and nothing appeared to have changed.
The couch was definitely the same. He had no idea how he was going to sit on it with her without some seriously sexy flashbacks.
‘And this is Grace’s room.’ Lola walked past a shut door on the opposite side of the short hallway, which Hamish assumed was Lola’s room. ‘She moved out a couple of days ago.’
Hamish hadn’t been in his sister’s bedroom when he’d last been here. He hadn’t been in Lola’s either. Not that that had stopped them...
‘Make yourself at home.’ She swept her arm around to indicate the space. ‘It’s a good size with big built-in cupboards and several power points if you want a TV or something in here.’
Hamish looked around. Grace had left her bed for him and the bedside tables. Everything was ruthlessly clean as per his sister’s ways. They could have taken an appendix out on the stripped mattress. Although now they were both in the room together with a massive bed dominating the space, other things they could do on the mattress came to mind.
Lola was staring at it too as if she was just realising the level of temptation it represented. ‘There are sheets, pillows, blankets, etcetera in the linen cupboard in the hallway.’
‘Thanks.’ Hamish threw his bag on the bed to fill up the acres of space staring back at them. And to stop himself from throwing her on it instead.
The action seemed to snap Lola out of her fixation. ‘And that’s it.’ She turned. ‘Tour over.’
Once again Hamish followed her down the hallway and into the kitchen, where she grabbed her bag and keys off the counter top. ‘I’m sorry, I have to run now or I’ll be late for work. I couldn’t swap the shift.’
She didn’t sound that sorry. In fact, she was jingling the keys like she couldn’t wait to get out of there.
‘It’s fine.’
A part of him had assumed she’d be home this weekend to help him get settled. Which was ridiculous. He was a thirty-year-old man living in one of the world’s most exciting cities—he didn’t need to have his hand held.
And Lola was a shift worker, just like him. With bills to pay and a twenty-four-hour roster she helped to fill, including Saturdays. She had her own life that didn’t involve pandering to her friend’s brother.
‘I’m sure I can occupy myself. What time do you finish?’
She fished in her
