Kiss It Better Read Online Free PDF

— gave definition and balanced the dazzling view from the glass sliding door. A queen-sized bed, built-in robes, leather armchair and writing desk completed the room. Heavy wheat-coloured drapes ensured privacy if required.
    ‘Keys.’ She picked them out of the pottery bowl on the writing desk. The bowl was a local craftsman’s work, blue and cream like the beach below the headland. ‘Kitchen door, your door.’ She nodded in the direction of the room’s sliding door. ‘And garage key if you’d like to put your bike under cover.’
    ‘Thanks.’
    She dropped the keys back in the bowl. ‘I’ll leave you to settle in.’
    He put his helmet on the armchair and his luggage on the floor. ‘I’m settled.’
    Huh. Surely he’d want to change out of his leathers? But she was not about to voice the question. Not with the bed so close and her imagination suddenly active. She fled. ‘Lunch in half an hour.’
    Her own room welcomed her with soft blues, bare wood and sand tones. Restful. She closed the door and leaned against it before sighing and stripping off her daggy clothes. She dug jeans and an old olive-green knit top from her closet. The top had used to be too tight. Now it clung to her breasts before falling loosely around her rib cage. She sat on the floor to tie the laces of her boots, yanking them fiercely.
    Theo and her dad had caught her unawares, but she would cope. She’d be prepared now. For anything. Just for a moment she leaned forward, resting her head on her knees. Would there ever be a time when she didn’t have to cope, to brace against fate? The independence and strength she’d prided herself on had become a trap, but she kept marching forward, unable to change, unable to ask for or accept help. She’d seen her family and friends’ worried glances over the last few days, but she kept them all at a distance. None trespassed on her obvious desire to deal with things herself.
    ‘Because I’m doing such a good job of that.’ She dragged a brush through her hair, untangling the knots ruthlessly till it fell straight to her shoulders. It needed a cut.
    If she were a car, she’d book herself into the mechanics for a thorough overhaul followed by detailing. It would be nice to emerge shiny and new.
    Instead her improvement was limited to jeans that wouldn’t, unlike her trackies, suddenly slip off.
    Theo sat in the corner alcove of the kitchen, legs stretched out and head bent over his phone. Like her he’d changed, but he’d also found time to shower. His wet hair curled and he wore a rugby shirt over blue jeans. Did everything he wore emphasise his lean muscles?
    He glanced up at her entrance.
    The way his eyes widened could have been an insult for how bad she’d looked before — or a compliment for the improvement. Her dad’s old coat and her old trackies could make a supermodel appear slobbish, so his slow smile almost had her smiling back.
    No. This wasn’t the time for flirting and letting a little admiration confuse her. She was already confused and she needed time to untangle herself, and for that she needed everything to stay as it was. This was home, a safe place.
    She couldn’t let Theo take it from her.
    Riding up on a motorbike. Puh-leez. What sort of pretence was that? And if he was from Brigid Care, an eastern states company, she doubted he’d ridden the bike across the Nullarbor Plain. He’d had to have flown in to Perth and hired it. Did he think it would make him seem more ordinary, someone her dad and the people of Jardin Bay could trust?
    ‘I hope you’re not on a gluten-free diet.’ Even she could hear the tone in her voice that said the opposite. If Theo said he was on a gluten-free diet, she sounded as if she’d force-feed him wheat flour.
    ‘I’ll eat anything.’ The mock-servility of his tone was threaded with laughter, which just made his voice sexier.
    ‘Potato bread.’ She opened the breadbox and tried to sound normal, or at least, minimally polite.