he said, his gaze riveted to the storm of emotions clouding Carissa’s expressive face.
He shouldn’t get involved.
He didn’t want to get involved.
But it looked as if the matter might be taken out of his hands as Carissa hung up and turned to him with a stricken look on her face.
‘You came,’ she said, not looking particularly thrilled.
‘Yeah, it sounded like something Molly would like. Everything okay?’
To his amazement, Carissa shook her head, collapsed into the nearest chair, and looked as if she’d burst into tears at any second.
Oh-oh. Tears to him were like Kryptonite to Superman. He just couldn’t go there.
‘My stand-in bunny just pulled out. Old Mr Hill has a twisted bowel, or some such thing and won’t be here. Can you believe it? Those poor kids.’ She gazed out through the back window, looking so forlorn he wanted to pat her on the back and tell her everything would be okay.
‘Yeah, I guess they’ll be pretty disappointed.’ He knew Molly would be, and he hated that. His daughter had been let down enough in her lifetime.
‘Disappointed? They’ll be distraught!’ She jumped out of her chair and stalked to the window, staring out at the kids. ‘If only there was something I could do…’
And in that instant, as she whirled to face him with a maniacal gleam in her wide blue eyes, he knew that she’d hatched some crazy scheme and that, somehow, it involved him.
‘You!’ She jumped up and down on the spot like Molly did when she was really excited about something. ‘You can do it! You’re big enough for the bunny suit, you’re here—it’s the perfect solution.’
‘No way.’ He held up his hands to ward her off and backed up a few steps, wondering briefly if it was too late to make a run for it.
‘Come on.’ She latched onto his arm and dragged him towards the back room, leaving him little option but to follow. ‘We don’t have much time. The natives are getting restless. And you wouldn’t want to be responsible for disappointing all those cute little children now, would you?’
Damn, she was good.
How could he say no when she put it like that?
He couldn’t disappoint Molly. He wouldn’t.
And, by the clever glint in Carissa’s eyes, she’d known just the right buttons to push. His gaze skimmed over her, the simple outfit of white flowing trousers and pink fitted top accentuating her piquant beauty in its simplicity. On any other woman the combination would have looked plain. On her it looked stunning.
‘Hey!’ Carissa snapped her fingers in front of his face. ‘You better pay closer attention when you’re with the kids, otherwise they’ll whip those choccie eggs out of your basket in no time at all.’
‘Look, about the kids—’
‘Come on. We haven’t got long to get you dressed and into the garden at the back of the shop for the egg hunt.’ She opened a door to a back room and all but shoved him aside.
He should have blurted out any old excuse.
He should have slammed the door shut, locked it and bolted through the sole window.
Instead, at the first touch of her hand on his arm, all thought of abandoning her fled and he found himself staring at the giant pink and white bunny costume hanging on the back of the door and wondering what it was about this woman that made him want to jump through hoops.
‘Thanks for doing this. I really appreciate it,’ she said, unzipping the plastic covering over the suit and handing him a cotton tail. ‘Here—I’m sure you can do the honours with this.’
‘Just leave it,’ he snapped, the thought of her placing that cute little tail anywhere in the vicinity of his tail sending his blood pressure soaring.
Shame on you, Brody Elliott. Mind your manners.
He blinked in surprise at the echo of his wife’s phrase. During their brief marriage he’d often felt like a gauche boy being chastised by the lady of the house, and any love he’d had for his society wife had soon waned while his love for Molly, the reason they’d married in the first place, had grown daily.
Everyone had been right. Jackie had made him pay for getting her pregnant—even though he’d used protection, and even though he’d done the right thing by her. Their marriage had been based on guilt right from the start. His guilt.
Guilt at ruining Jackie’s life, according to her snobby family.
Guilt at robbing her of a life on easy street if she’d married the right man from her socio-economic sphere.
Guilt at how much he’d blamed her for the loss of his freedom.
And, for the last four years, the gut-wrenching guilt that her death might have been prevented if he’d done things differently.
‘Hey, if you don’t want to do this I’ll understand,’ Carissa said, the concern in her eyes reaching out and enveloping him in a warm embrace, no matter how unwelcome.
Damn it! As a cop, he’d been a master of the poker face. In fact it had been one of the skills that had kept him at the top of his game. However, like everything else in his life, he’d let his job slide, and it looked as if his skills had followed suit.
Slipping his poor excuse for a poker face into place, he said, ‘I’m ready. Just leave me to it.’
Searching his face, she appeared satisfied and nodded. ‘I’ll wait for you outside. Just hop on out when you’re ready.’
And as he watched her walk out, struggling to keep his eyes averted from the way her butt moved beneath the soft white cotton of her pants and failing miserably, he wondered for the hundredth time in the last hour if he’d lost his mind.
Carissa was proud of her ability to read people. She’d mastered the skill from an early age, learning to blend into the background in the hope that she’d avoid drawing attention to herself and earning a harsh word or a cruel putdown from Ron in the process. Being able to blend in allowed her the freedom to observe people, to look, listen and pick up on non-verbal cues.
And now, as she watched Brody cavorting with the children as if he’d been born to the role of Easter Bunny, she had no idea what to make of her new neighbour.
‘Looks like your bunny is doing a good job with the kids,’ Tahnee, her younger sister, said, plopping into a garden chair next to her. ‘I didn’t know Pete had it in him.’
‘It’s not Peter.’ Carissa wrinkled her nose as if she’d just smelt something nasty. In this case, eau de dumped.
Tahnee’s astute gaze fixed on her in an instant. ‘Trouble in paradise?’
‘Being with Peter was never paradise,’ Carissa muttered, knowing she’d hung around their dead-end relationship for eight months for one reason and one reason only. Familiarity.
