Tangled Vines: An Australian Rural Romance by Nicole Flockton Page A

being renovated.” He glared at her. “Like you were going to. And you should have a shower.”
    “If I have a shower, it would probably wake me up. And it’s not that bad in the apartment.” She paused. “Now that the windows are open.”
    It wasn’t the truth. The apartment would smell for a few days and sleep definitely wasn’t going to happen anytime soon since her body was now too aware of Kyle and how close he stood next to her. He’d already caught her in the shower once. This was the second time he’d seen her wet.
    His gaze fixed on her wet tank. Her nipples peaked under his scrutiny. Heat suffused her body as she imagined his hands on them. Caressing them. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips.
    This was complete madness.
    She held her breath—what would his next move be?
    Her lips parted in anticipation as Kyle leaned toward her. Instead of his lips connecting with hers, his thumb lightly brushed her cheek. “Take a shower, Jordan.”
    With that he turned and headed down the darkened hallway, leaving her weak kneed and wishing things had ended differently.

Chapter 8
    Kyle wished for a swell as he bobbed on his surfboard. Anything, even a two-foot swell, would be better than nothing. Sighing, he laid himself out on his board and started a slow paddle back to the shore.
    He’d wanted the ocean to toss up some wild waves so he could test himself against the elements. He’d walked back to his room after his encounter with Jordan in the kitchen, sporting a hard-on that had taken a long while before it disappeared. He called himself every name in the book for turning down what she had been offering.
    She wanted him to kiss her. Touch her. In her wet tank and short shorts, it had taken everything in him to walk away and not take her hard and fast on the kitchen table.
    He walked through the shallows with his board under his arm. Having Jordan in his house, around him, was the last thing he wanted. What he craved right now was to go back home and get drunk. His usual modus operandi when he came down here at Christmas. What would she think if he did that? If she walked in and found him passed out on the couch?
    He sat down on the hot sand and looked out over the ocean. What had it looked like that day almost eleven years ago? Calm and peaceful as it looked now? Or had it been churning, warning everyone of the impending disaster? What had been going through his parents’ and sister’s mind when they heard the rushing water? Had their last thoughts been about him? Wondering where he was and if he was okay? Or had they’d been so terrified they couldn’t think at all, let alone run to higher ground?
    Kyle punched the sand. He would never know what they’d gone through. Had they suffered a long, drawn-out death, or had it be quick? It still cut deep that he’d survived the tsunami and they hadn’t.
    Some days he wondered why he’d been spared. What had he done to deserve the hall pass? Hell, he’d yelled at his parents on Christmas night. A belligerent nineteen-year-old who didn’t want to do the
family
thing. Now he’d give anything to have a do-over on that evening again. Maybe if he’d stayed, he could’ve got the family to safety and they’d be getting ready to celebrate another family Christmas. Maybe Emily would be at the top of her university course, ready to take on the world.
    God, he missed her so much. He may have found her an annoying little sister, but she always made him laugh. He had really wanted to play big brother. Make sure that the boys she dated were good enough for his sister.
    He squeezed his eyes shut against the sudden burst of moisture. He was done crying. He was thirty years old. Men his age didn’t cry.
    Sitting at the beach would only bring up more memories. Memories he didn’t want to deal with. He stood and grabbed his board. Facing Jordan and her sexy body at the house seemed a better alternative than reliving a time he couldn’t change. Nothing he did would