Before he let his mind linger there any longer than it needed to, he had to get to his room without being seen and get dressed in shorts and a t-shirt and make certain there was no sign of the issues that had seen him almost crawl into the laundry to hide his shame. He put his dirty clothes in the washing machine and put it on before opening the door and peering down the corridor—nobody there and the only noise was coming from the lounge. Good.
He slipped out, closed the door behind him as quietly as possible then turned and smacked straight into Prita who had just slipped out of the bathroom.
She yelped, arms pinwheeling as she fell backward from the impact. Without thinking, he grabbed her and pulled her upright.
‘Shit. Sorry.’
Her hands landed on his chest, gaze flying up to his. The way she looked up at him, those amazing amber-flecked eyes widening, and sexy as hell, punched him right in the gut.
‘Flynn!’
‘Prita.’ He didn’t let go of her and she didn’t push away, just stood there, breath a little unsteady, staring up at him.
‘You’re back.’
‘Yes.’
‘Good. We were just about to head down to Nat and Reid’s.’
‘Okay.’
Her fingers did that little cat-claw clenchy thing on his chest and all his thoughts raced down to his groin as she stammered, ‘I checked Aaron’s shoulder. He’s good, by the way. Just needs to stay on the anti-inflammatories and painkillers for a few more days and keep quiet and still as much as possible.’ She chewed her lip, gaze still pinned on him. ‘Barb’s kicking the kids off the PlayStation. I was just about to go get my salad from the fridge. We were about to leave.’
Her voice washed over him, through him, as she rambled nervously—nervously? What did she have to be nervous of? Not that he really cared right now, with her hands splayed on his naked chest like they were, fingers contracting and stretching out ever so slightly. The gesture was tiny but the impact was an earthquake, a landslide, a blazing flame, just as it had been the day they’d kissed.
He jerked back from her, breaking the contact.
They stared at each other for a long moment, too long. Her gaze darted down then back up, eyes widening, a smile twitching on her lips. ‘Nice boxers.’
His face heated. Great. Now he was the colour to match his boxers. ‘They’re a joke. From Reid.’ Think about Reid, think about Reid, about anything but this unholy awareness of her and the fact his cock was twitching, responding to her presence, her scent—jasmine and spice and something a little wild—threatening to turn Rudolf’s improperly placed red nose into Pinocchio’s. It was bad enough he was standing here naked except for a joke pair of boxers and she was wearing a silky strappy green top that flowed like water down her curves and a pair of short denim shorts showcasing the long expanse of her silky legs. He clenched his fingers into fists to stop himself from taking a step forward and pushing those flimsy straps off her shoulders and caressing the strip of material off her body, lips following, kissing, sucking, tasting.
Ah shit. He clapped his hands over his stiffening dick. ‘I’ve got to go.’ He managed not to touch her as he edged past and escaped into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him, shutting out her and the unholy and altogether wrong attraction he couldn’t seem to rid himself of.
He leaned against the door, hands splayed hard against the wood, and hit his head back against the door, the pain of the jolt sparking through him, but doing nothing to stop the trembling, the need spiralling in his gut and the hot erection pushing at his stupid jocks.
‘Fuck! Fuck.’ He had to go back out there, see her again, spend time with her making small talk and eating steak and salad. He didn’t know what frightened him more—spending time with Prita after she’d seen him in his undies all wet and vulnerable and not a little horny or facing up to another bushfire.
Was there some way he could get out of this? Yes. Perhaps he could say he wasn’t feeling well, or that he got sunstroke or something. Anything. But no. It was her birthday. It would be unforgiveable to skip out on it.
‘Dad?’ A knock on the door behind him made him jump. ‘Are you ready to go? Doctor Prita said I could go to the barbie, but you have to drive me—I’m not allowed to walk.’
Aaron! Hell, he couldn’t let his son see him in this state. He kept his hand against the door and said, ‘Why don’t you go with them? I’m just getting changed.’
‘Gran says your truck has better suspension so Doctor Prita wants me to go with you.’
‘Okay.’ So, that answered his question. If he didn’t want to let down his son, he was just going to have to brazen this out. ‘Be there in a minute.’
‘Don’t be long.’
‘I’m throwing on some clothes now.’ He’d just have to try to stay as far away from Prita as he possibly could for the rest of the night. Or week. Or year. However long it would take him to get over this goddamned attraction that threatened everything he’d struggled to be in the years since his wife had died.
It wasn’t until he was about to hop into his ute with Aaron that he realised all thought of the fire and the fear it had created had gone the moment he’d smacked into Prita. Well, at least that was something.
Chapter 11
Prita scurried outside the moment Flynn and Aaron walked into Reid and Nat’s open plan kitchen-living room. All her plans to have a chat with him about the awkwardness between them had gone up in smoke after that unexpected meeting in the hall of his house.
My god. She’d known he was built, but seeing
