Burnt by Karly Lane Page B

he stood to walk away. Thinking those kinds of thoughts, he would wind up in all kinds of trouble he didn’t need.
    â€˜Seb?’
    He froze. When he recovered enough to turn, he saw Bec walking uncertainly from the river towards him. Water streamed from her body, her wet hair sleek against her head, and her dark eyes, framed by even darker lashes, were bright and wide. As she neared, he caught the smell of coconut and sun cream, his eyes straying to where the water had beaded into a million tiny droplets across her shoulders and arms. She stopped in front of him.
    â€˜Hi.’
    He felt as though his tongue was glued to the top of his mouth. Speak, fool! the rational side of his brain yelled. ‘Hey.’
    A small smile touched her soft lips and he felt his eyes lock onto her mouth with a longing that bordered on irrational.
    â€˜What are you up to?’ she asked, gathering her hair in one hand to squeeze the excess water from its length. The strands of hair separated into a sexy mass of tangles that almost begged him to run his fingers through and –
    â€˜I was just out for a drive,’ he said aloud to distract his wayward mind, folding his arms across his chest just to make sure he didn’t follow through on his train of thought.
    â€˜It’s a teachers’ strike day, so the kids and I are making the most of it.’
    â€˜This is all new,’ he commented, indicating the beach behind her.
    She turned her head, and he saw her zero in on her kids as she nodded. ‘Yeah, last Christmas they brought in a whole heap of sand and made the beach area. As big as the river is, there’s very few places you can actually swim. Not up this far anyway. It’s pretty popular. Mum and Dad’s place is just across the road, so we use it a fair bit – luckily we only moved across the bridge so it’s still nice and close.’
    He turned his head and followed her gaze. ‘Nice spot.’
    â€˜We were just about ready to go home – will you come back and have lunch with us?’ she said, after the conversation stilled and their attention switched back to watching the girls swim.
    â€˜I probably should get back –’ He tried for a firm line, but it came out sounding weak and pathetic.
    â€˜It’s nothing fancy, just bread rolls and salad.’ Calling the kids from the water, she bundled them in towels.
    He headed back across the bridge to his car, armed with her address and tried to rationalise his excitement. It was lunch. Nothing more. They were just two old friends catching up – that was it. With that lecture delivered to himself, he parked his four-wheel drive out the front of her house and climbed out.
    She pulled into the driveway only a few minutes after him. ‘Girls, this is Mr Taylor,’ she introduced him to the two wide-eyed children, who tipped their heads back to look up into his face.
    â€˜Geez, Bec. Mr Taylor? Makes me feel ancient. Hi, kids, I’m Seb.’
    Twin smiles broke out on the little faces and he noticed a few baby teeth missing, leaving gaps in the smiles. ‘I’m Sarah, and I’m eight,’ the blonde-haired version of Bec volunteered, ‘and this is my sister. Her name’s Natalie, she’s ten.’
    He watched the dark-haired girl bob her head shyly and inch closer to her mother, who led them inside to the kitchen.
    Over lunch he found himself observing them curiously. Sarah, although the younger of the two, had no problem dominating the bulk of the conversation, informing him that she was an expert on unicorns and mermaids. She was a cute kid and he found himself enjoying her animated chatter more than he’d expected. Bec made a few attempts to draw Natalie into the conversation but she seemed content to allow her younger sibling to hold centre court. During the meal he felt her wary gaze resting on him; she seemed less eager than her sister to accept him.
    Bec stood to clear away