Songbird (Songbird, #1) Page 7

  I laughed, and oh my God … I snorted! I quickly clapped a hand over my mouth, the snort ringing in the now silent kitchen. I looked at Riley, wide-eyed. He was trying so hard not to laugh, bless him, but it was no use—his grin widened and he cracked up.

  “I didn’t know Foxes could snort,” he teased.

  I turned away, mortified, then, unable to contain my own laughter, joined his.

  After we had managed to control ourselves, I started moving around the kitchen with familiarity, finding something to nibble on in the pantry and then squatting down to open the sticky glasses cupboard in the way in which I was accustomed.

  “You know there’s a door handle on that cupboard, right?” Riley quipped, as I crouched down and thumped the door. It flew open, banging into my knee and knocking me back on my ass.

  “Fuck!” I exclaimed, rubbing my now red knee.

  Riley was down on the floor next to me in an instant. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

  I tried to smile, feeling like a total idiot.

  “I guess I should have mentioned that we fixed the door today, so it doesn’t stick anymore.” He looked at me apologetically, but I could see from the glint in his eyes that he thought the whole scene was hilarious.

  Summoning up as much dignity as possible, considering I was still on my butt on the kitchen floor, I folded my legs under me to stand.

  Riley rose beside me and took my hand, his grip firm. “You sure you’re okay? Do you need to sit down?”

  Shaking my head, I mentally kicked myself. If there were ever any spark between us it was well and truly extinguished now, after my extremely ungraceful swan dive.

  I couldn’t help laughing. My mother had spent so much money trying to turn me into the perfect little lady, with ballet lessons and deportment classes—she would be more mortified than I was.

  Riley chuckled. “At least you can laugh at yourself. I like that.”

  I dusted myself off. “Two choices: laugh or cry. I’ll choose laughter every time.”

  He was still smiling at me, so I guessed that was a good sign. In fact, from the moment our eyes had locked, he hadn’t stopped smiling, in one way or another. He had one of those faces that, even when he was talking about something that was not remotely funny, his eyes looked like they were hiding some secret joke behind them. My pop had called eyes like Riley’s smiling eyes, and I could now see why.

  “You seem to know your way around pretty well,” he said, indicating to the not-so-sticky cupboard. “I guess you’re over here a lot.”

  He was now leaning back against the wall with hands in pockets, ankles crossed. I’d never seen anyone make faded jeans, a plain white T-shirt and scuffed-up boots look so damn sexy.

  Sure the T-shirt was clinging to his body so if you looked hard enough—as I was—you could see the outline of a well-defined six-pack, and the jeans were being pulled down by his hands in his pockets, so the top of his Calvin Klein boxers were showing. But they were just a T-shirt and jeans, right? So what was it that tipped the needle into the red on the sex-o-meter? I couldn’t decide. It was either his tanned, well-defined arms that stretched the sleeves of his T-shirt to the limit, or the pure fact that he didn’t seem to know just how gorgeous he was. I couldn’t decide right now, but I knew I would be pondering that question for quite a few hours after I hopped into bed that night.

  I suddenly realised I hadn’t spoken, being too caught up in checking him out.

  “Oh, um, actually I lived here for a few weeks while I was in between homes. I slept on the sofa bed you’ve been sitting on,” I replied, absentmindedly rubbing my knee.

  “So I’m sleeping in your bed tonight,” he responded with a cheeky grin.

  Blushing at the thought of this gorgeous man in my bed, I just managed to maintain my composure. “Well, it’s not my bed anymore—unfortunately—and I should warn you that the springs creak, and it’s not that comfortable.” Then I indicated towards Jacqui. “So you won’t be able to get up to much mischief tonight.”

  He shook his head, laughing. “Like I said, she’s not my type. I’ll be sleeping alone.”

  I recalled the last time Cooper was here, when I slept on the couch.

  “Well, good luck with getting any sleep. You may have noticed the walls here are pretty thin.” I flushed, remembering my little indiscretion earlier. I knew they had heard me lament my lack of ‘action’ recently; had they also heard me exclaim how gorgeous I thought Riley was?

  “Do you have an iPod or something you can use to drown them out?”

  He shook his head, contemplating the night ahead.

  “You can borrow mine if you like; I found it came in very handy. Just turn the volume up really loud.”

  I dug my iPod out of my bag and handed it to him. He started to scroll through my various playlists—there was everything from Australian classic rock like INXS, Hoodoo Gurus and Hunters and Collectors, to Adele and P!NK.

  “Hey, I love some of this stuff. You’ve got a great variety on here.” He kept scrolling. “Including classical,” he said, his eyebrows raised. He opened the classical folder and read some of the names out. “Do you have a favourite in all these?”

  “I used to play all of them, but my favourite was always the theme music from my all-time favourite movie Somewhere In Time, although technically it’s not considered classical.”

  “So what makes it your favourite movie? How many times have you seen it?” he asked, glancing up at me from under his thick black eyelashes to take me in.

  Pausing for a second, I tried to think. “Probably at least twenty times, and it still makes me cry every time.” I smiled, feeling like a big girly-girl for crying over a movie.

  He looked at me curiously. “What is it about the movie that makes you cry?”

  I sighed. “Well, in a nut shell, the movie is about a man from the present time who falls in love with a photo of a beautiful woman from the 1920s. He researches her and discovers she was a famous actress in her time, but ended her life as a recluse who never married. He’s so enraptured by her that he finds a way to travel back in time to meet her.”

  Stopping, I looked up at his face expecting to see a sly grin at the storyline, but he was just intently listening, his eyes wide.

  I continued the story. “They meet and fall desperately in love and are extremely happy, until one day he finds a coin from the present time in his pocket and is ripped back there, never to see her again. He is so devastated that he can’t be with her, and realises that the traumatic event in her life that turned her into a recluse was losing him.”

  Pausing again, I thought of the storyline and the emotions that it evoked in me every time I watched it. “It’s just so sad, and portrays the fragility of love and life; how cruel fate can be that you can meet ‘the one’ and then lose them. At the end of the day, what’s the point?”

  He was still leaning back against the wall, head tilted to one side. “Maybe it’s really a story of hope. The fact that they were from different times, from different worlds almost, but still managed to find each other and have that kind of love … maybe she never married because the short time she had with him was enough to sustain her for the rest of her life.”

  I stood there with my mouth gaping for a moment, wondering where this guy had come from, then chuckled. “Well aren’t you Mr Glass Is Half Full.”

  “Maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic.” He shrugged, grinning shyly.

  “There’s nothing hopeless about being a romantic.”

  “So can we listen to your favourite piece?” he asked as he unwound the headphones.

  He handed me one ear jack before placing the other one in his own ear. I followed his lead and placed mine in my ear, and then he hit play. We stood in the kitchen for the full three and a half minutes in silence while the music washed over us. As the melody reached its crescendo he closed his eyes and I smiled. It was exactly how I liked to listen to it: eyes closed, totally absorbed.

/>   Taking the opportunity while his eyes were closed, I studied his face. His jawline was strong and his skin was smooth and clear. He had just a shadow of stubble starting to grow through what would have been clean-shaven cheeks at the beginning of the day. His lashes were so thick and black they would make any girl envious. I’d spent hours in the past getting mine tinted to the blackest black and they still weren’t as breathtaking as his. I thought he would look awesome with a two-day growth, really rugged.

  “That was beautiful,” he declared as he slowly opened his eyes when it finished, making my heart skip a beat. “It’s my new favourite piece.”

  I smirked. “Having a new favourite piece would imply that you had an old favourite piece.”

  “I did have.” He smiled. “When I was growing up, my mum used to listen to a lot of classical music while she was painting in her studio. I used to sneak in to watch her, and listen to the music as she hummed along. It’s amazing how music can affect your mood, which in turn can influence the outcome of the piece you’re working on. They were happy times for me.” His expression changed. He looked swept away in memories as he spoke.

  I was impressed that he was able to express himself so eloquently, but even more impressed that this guy that I had virtually written off as a meathead hottie, because he was in the Special Forces, seemed to be as beautiful on the inside as he was on the outside.

  “So what did your mum listen to?”

  “Beethoven mainly; you know, ‘Moonlight Sonata’, ‘Für Elise’, that sort of stuff, but it would depend on what type of painting she was working on at the time.”

  “I have those pieces on there as well,” I remembered.

  “Really?” He held up the iPod like it was suddenly made of gold, his eyes glistening. “Thank you so much for lending it to me.”

  “So, Irish huh?” I put on a comical puzzled look, wanting to change the subject to something a bit lighter. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and deduce that from your nickname and stereotypical Irish colouring, that you could in fact be Irish.”

  “Wow, nothing gets past you, does it? You could be a detective.” He laughed, his eyes smiling. “My mum was Irish and I guess I inherited her colouring, which is probably why my dad couldn’t stand to have me around. I reminded him too much of her.” He said it matter-of-factly, but his eyes were sad.

  I wanted to reach out and comfort him. The memories seemed like something from long ago, but the emotion was still raw. He had shown me a little glimpse of his soul and I wanted more. But standing in Kelli’s kitchen tonight was not the time, nor the place to discuss these things.

  He seemed to shake himself out of his temporary melancholy. “What about you?”

  “My pop on my dad’s side was from Ireland, actually—hence the surname O’Connell. I can still remember some of the funny stories he used to tell me when I was little.” I laughed. “He was a real character.”

  I looked up at the clock on the wall. “Shoot, look at the time. I have to dash in about ten minutes.”

  I couldn’t believe we’d been standing in the kitchen for nearly half an hour, talking. Well, mostly standing, sometimes sitting sprawled on the floor.

  We walked back over to the couch and he reluctantly sat back down on the end of it, as far away from Jacqui as he could manage, which made me smile.

  “I’ll send Cooper back out to keep you company.”

  It was time to head off. Kelli had chosen one of my favourite dresses and she looked great in it.

  As we emerged from the bedroom with the remaining dresses hung over my arm I said to Cooper, “She’s going to look gorgeous at this ball. I wish I could be there to see it.”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Riley piped up, “You should come.” He stood, and continued, “You should come with me, if you want to, of course. I need to see you again … so, ah … so I can return your iPod.”

  I looked over at Kelli and Cooper, who both had smirks on their faces, and then turned back to Riley. “I’d love to go, but I thought the tickets were all sold out.”

  I could recall Kelli mentioning that this was a big deal for the army, and that tickets always went quickly.

  “I’m pretty sure I can get a ticket,” he replied confidently as he pulled out his phone, before continuing, “Why don’t you give me your number and I’ll give you a call and let you know how I go?” He handed me the phone and I quickly punched in my number.

  “You might want to take his number too, Fox. You can enter it in under Yummy,” Cooper teased, laughing his head off.

  “That’s enough Lieutenant,” Riley said with authority, before giving him a whack across the back of the head.

  Cooper abruptly stopped laughing. “Are you pulling rank on me?” he asked incredulously.

  “Only if I have to,” Riley replied, and then started laughing.

  In the meantime I sent a quick text to my phone from Riley’s.

  Irish :)

  THE NEXT morning while I was at work, my phone beeped with a new text message.

  Hi Tara, just letting you know no problem with getting the ticket for the ball, hope you can make it. R

  I rushed over to Kelli’s desk, where she was also reading a text message and laughing. We exchanged phones so I could read hers.

  Hey babe. Just heard Irish paid Jax $500 for his ticket to the ball. I think someone’s pretty keen, don’t you? C xxx.

  Then my phone beeped again with another message from Riley.

  T, thought it might be a good idea for us to catch up quietly before the big group date … dinner 2nite? R

  I was so excited, but it quickly turned into nervous panic. I hadn’t been on a date for more than two years.

  I looked at Kelli. “He wants to go on a date tonight, just the two of us … What do I do?”

  She smiled and took my phone. “Do you trust me?”

  “Of course,” I replied. “Most of the time.”

  Kelli punched out the final message on my behalf.

  R, just discussing with K having everyone over 2nite for dinner … interested? T

  At lunchtime, we raced down to the market to buy the freshest ingredients for the dinner party that I didn’t know I was hosting until an hour ago.

  “I’ll help you with everything. Don’t worry, it’ll be fine,” Kelli reassured me, noticing the panicked look on my face.

  After work I went straight home to tidy up and start preparing. It was the first time I was having anyone other than Kelli and Jason over for dinner, so I wanted everything to be perfect.

  Kelli had promised to go home quickly and get changed, and then come over early to help, leaving the guys to make their own way over later.

  Because I was time poor, I had decided on a very simple dish of seared salmon with steamed Asian greens, and a cheat’s version of a lemon and lime tart. I worked like a machine in the kitchen preparing the tart, as I knew that was going to take the longest. By the time Kelli finally arrived I had things under control, and was a little more relaxed as we chatted in the kitchen.

  Kelli giggled as she told me, “You should have seen Riley before I left. I think he changed his outfit three times just while I was there. He was literally pacing up and down, so anxious to get here.”

  I couldn’t believe it; it sounded like this gorgeous guy was as nervous as I was.

  “I hope you’re getting changed into something amazing because he looked hot.”

  I looked up at Kelli with raised eyebrows.

  “What? I love Cooper but damn Riley is fine … and he’s such a sweetie. Did you know he fixed the kitchen cupboard for me so it doesn’t stick anymore?”

  I cocked one eyebrow at her. “Yes, I did know that,” I replied sarcastically, knowing full well she knew all about what had happened, while reliving the nightmare that was my sprawl on the kitchen floor.

  “Hmm, I heard,” she said, smirking at me. “He was quite concerned that you’d hurt your … now how did he put it? Oh yeah, that’s right; ‘le
gs that blow your mind’.”

  I gasped. “He said that? Really?”

  “Oh yeah, and a whole lot more, believe me.” She shook her head. “That boy’s got it bad.”

  “So what else can you tell me about him?” I stopped what I was doing and turned to face Kelli, giving her my full attention.

  “I know he likes you. He grilled me for an hour last night after you left. Coop said he had some trouble with an ex-girlfriend though—I’m not sure what happened, but it had something to do with him moving, and he hasn’t dated anyone since.” She shrugged. “He was pretty tight-lipped about it. Apparently it’s a sore point that the guys don’t talk about.”

  I watched Kelli as she painstakingly concentrated on chopping the vegetables. “How do you do it? The long-distance thing?”

  She put the knife down and paused in thought for a moment before answering. “For me, it’s pretty much all I know. Cooper and I have been together a long time. We were high school sweethearts. He’s my first love and I hope he will be my only love. I would rather spend one day with him and nine days apart than ten days with someone else. But that’s me, and we had years together to get to know each other before he signed up. It’s feast or famine in this type of relationship.”

  Frowning at her, I wasn’t sure what she meant, but she continued. “You see them for a few days or maybe a week or two at a time, and it’s full on the whole time—that’s the feast—but then you don’t see them for a month or sometimes three—that’s your famine. It’s an emotional rollercoaster; the only way to sustain it is absolute trust and honesty.”

  We had finished the prep work in the kitchen and setting up the table. It was a balmy night so we decided to move my little table and chairs out to the balcony. I wound some fairy lights around the railing and lit some scented candles, placing them in groups to set off the best mood. Once finished, we stepped back to survey our work. It looked perfect, almost magical; all that was left to do was to get changed into something fabulous.

  Rummaging through the wardrobe, I was never happy with what I pulled out, until I found a dress I had bought on impulse with Kelli and shoved in the back. It was a muted mauve and green floral with shoestring straps and a handkerchief hem. It looked … romantic. That was the only word I could think of to describe it. With some killer heels it would do the trick.