was grateful to have that sorted. He need show no more than cursory interest in this guest, which was just as well, considering everything that lay ahead of him.
Emily wondered if she’d made a terrible mistake as she sank onto the edge of Alex’s king-size bed.
She was imposing on Alex’s flatmate, and she could tell from the moment she’d first seen Jude that he wasn’t thrilled about her sudden arrival. Now cold hopelessness washed over her as she saw her flight to Brisbane as just another mistake among the many mistakes she’d made lately.
She would have to reassure Jude that she wouldn’t stay. Problem was, she wasn’t ready to go back to Wandabilla, either. So, in the morning, she would have to check out accommodation options.
In the meantime … she would try to be as little trouble as possible for Jude.
He was very different from Alex. She’d seen this immediately. Physically, the two men were poles apart. Her cousin shared her auburn colouring and he was slim and scholarly-looking, while Jude was tall and dark, with the broad-shouldered, lean-hipped build of a man of action. Not too rugged or too chiselled, his looks were nicely in between.
But, of course, Alex always had good taste in men.
After taking off her coat, but not bothering to unpack, Emily went through to the kitchen and discovered another difference from Alex. Jude was no cook.
There was absolutely no action at the stove. In fact, Jude was standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring at the open pantry cupboard and scratching his head.
When he saw her, he gave an offhand shrug. ‘I’m afraid I never think much about food when I’m caught up with my work.’
‘Please, don’t worry about feeding me,’ she assured him. ‘I’m happy to look after myself.’ The last thing she wanted was to be any bother, but curiosity prompted her to ask, ‘What sort of work do you do?’
Jude frowned, then spoke with obvious reluctance. ‘I’m a writer, so I work from home, but I’m totally disorganized when it comes to meals. Sometimes I heat up a tin of soup for my dinner, but since I’ve been here in West End, I’ve mostly eaten takeaway.’
Emily guessed he was missing Alex’s gourmet cooking. ‘Honestly, I’m happy with takeaway,’ she insisted. ‘I know there’s a host of great restaurants here. I could pop out now, if you like, and get something for both of us.’
She smiled, hoping to show Alex’s flatmate that she really wanted to fit in as smoothly as possible. But smiling didn’t seem to work with this man. His gaze darted away.
‘I’ll come with you,’ he said.
‘Are you sure?’
‘I promised Alex I’d look after you.’
She almost told him not to bother. She was perfectly capable of walking a block or two to the shops, but she didn’t want to start off on a bad footing. ‘OK. I’ll grab my coat and a scarf.’
They met again in the hallway, and Emily saw that Jude had changed lightning-fast into less tattered jeans as well as outdoor boots and a thick black woollen sweater.
Gosh—he was actually rather good-looking. Lucky Alex. Under other circumstances—circumstances in which she wasn’t totally ‘over men’ and Jude Marlowe wasn’t gay and standoffish—she might have taken second or third looks at him. And more, right now, she would have been far happier if he’d been less attractive, but empathetic and warm, like Alex.
Clearly this wasn’t the case, and she would have to nurse her sorrows on her own. At any rate, she was relieved to be in the company of a man she could trust not to make a move on her.
Outside on the footpath, the wind made their cheeks pink, but Emily was snug in her coat and the air was in-vigorating—a beautiful clear and crisp winter’s night in the city.
She was starting to feel a tiny bit better already. Of course, there was still a sickening ache in her chest whenever she thought about her former boyfriend, Michael, and a stomach-churning twist of appalling guilt whenever she thought about the wife and children he’d conveniently forgotten to mention. But just getting away from Wandabilla had helped. At least no one knew her here in Brisbane and she didn’t have to face the gossip and curious glances.
The restaurants were filled with diners, talking and laughing and generally having a good time, and as Emily passed each doorway, she caught snatches of music and chatter and sensational appetising smells.
She came to a stop outside an Indian takeaway.
‘Is this what you fancy?’ Jude asked.
‘I would love a curry. We only have Chinese in Wandabilla, and I adore Indian.’
‘Indian it is then,’ he said, stepping inside. ‘Too easy.’
‘Are you going out of your way to oblige me, or are you always this easy about meals?’
Jude’s eyes shimmered. ‘When it comes to food, I’m a pushover.’
They ordered two kinds of curries—one meat and one vegetarian, as well as steamed rice and naan bread.
‘And samosas,’ said Jude. ‘For entrée.’
Heading back to the apartment with their mouthwatering packages, he suddenly took a left-hand dive into a supermarket and emerged moments later with an armful of bright yellow daffodils.
‘Wow—’ Emily swallowed her surprise as he handed the sunshiny blooms to her ‘—what are these for?’
‘I’ve heard you need cheering up.’
‘Oh.’ It was the lovely sort of thing Alex would have done. Perhaps Alex had given his housemate instructions.
‘That’s so sweet,’ she told him, feeling suddenly, unexpectedly grateful, and just a tiny bit weepy. Impulsively, she stood on tiptoe and gave Jude a kiss on the cheek. To her surprise, a dark tide of colour stained his neck.
Afraid that she’d embarrassed him, she quickly changed the subject. ‘Should we get something for breakfast while we’re out?’
‘Of course. Sorry. I’ve been a bit distracted lately.’
For the briefest moment, Emily saw something else in Jude’s grey eyes—just a flash of a darker emotion that might have been anxiety or fear. It was gone almost as soon as it arrived, but it made her wonder if he’d been distracted by more than his work.
She couldn’t exactly quiz him about it, so she turned her attention to their shopping, choosing food she thought a guy might like—eggs and bacon, and then a punnet of blueberries, a tub of yoghurt and a bag of good quality coffee. At the cash register, Jude insisted on paying, warding off her protests with a grim fierceness that was hard to fight.
A slight awkwardness descended as they hurried back to the apartment, laden with their purchases.
In the kitchen, Jude set the takeaway tubs on the table, then found cutlery and plates.
‘Where do
