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“If you two are okay, I’ll go and give my senior sergeant a hand.” The woman’s focus was already shifting to the truck, now bumping over the grassy tussocks. Mack watched as the vehicle pulled up beside the senior sergeant and the driver hopped out to survey the smash. He shook his head more than once, and Mack had to agree with him. His car was a write off, and he wasn’t sure how this guy was even going to get it loaded onto the flatbed. Thankfully, he was insured. He hadn’t decided what his replacement truck was going to be, but he’d steer away from the Chevys from now on. He was beginning to learn that large, flashy trucks didn’t fit in here in the outback like they did in the US, where the motto seemed to be the bigger the better.
Bindi went to lever herself off the ground, and he offered her a hand. She stood beside him, and he had to stop his gaze from skittering to the deep V between her breasts, to where all that creamy, soft skin resided.
“God, I’m stiffening up already,” she sighed, wincing as she bent from side to side. “I wish Dale would hurry up and get here.”
“Yeah, me too.” He could sympathize. It’d be nice to sit in the comfortable seats of an air-conditioned car, rather than continue to stand out here in the increasing heat. But it’d be at least another half an hour before Dale could reach them. Bindi would know that, so instead of reminding her, he decided to tackle another niggling problem on his list.
“Before we get back to the station, there’s one question I’d like answered,” he said, keeping his tone casual.
“As long as it’s not about Mutt or my family. I’m all talked out where they’re concerned,” she answered wearily, taking a sip from her bottle.
“No, it’s not about that.” He winced and almost changed his mind. She probably didn’t want to think about this right now, either. But he needed to know where they stood. How he was supposed to act around her once they got back to the station. He’d pretty much made up his mind to stay away from her, but he needed to find out where she stood on the matter. “Are we… I mean, will we…?” Suddenly, he wasn’t sure how to phrase his query. What he wanted to say was that he’d had a great time last night, and leave it at that. But this morning, as he’d looked into her face, he knew that wouldn’t be right. Bindi wasn’t some floozy he’d picked up off the street. She was special.
He wanted to nip this thing in the bud, but he didn’t want to get Bindi offside, either. He was going to have to work with her for the next six to twelve months. Why he hadn’t thought about that when she’d dragged him toward the tree line and set up the swag, he’d never know.
She lifted her dark gaze to meet his. “I’ve been wondering the same thing,” she admitted. She studied him as she tapped the top of her bottle against her front teeth.
He wished she wouldn’t do that; it was way too distracting. And sexy, even if she didn’t intend it that way. It made him think about running his tongue over those teeth, then plunging in deeper, until…
“Look, you’re an incredibly attractive man. And what we did last night…well, that was fun.”
Fun? It was way more than fun. A stupid twinge of defiance spasmed deep in his gut, but he quashed it. This wasn’t the first time he’d had this conversation, and just because he was usually the one using that word instead of being on the receiving end, he shouldn’t be offended. Apart from being slightly affronted, there was also relief. The tight belt of tension that’d been closing in around his ribs eased slightly. It sounded like they were on the same page. She was going to let him off the hook.
So why did he suddenly feel like he’d been rejected, then? And why did it hurt?
“But we’re work colleagues and while I think you’re fun, I don’t want to jeopardize either of our jobs.”
Again, there was that sinking feeling. She’d used that word again. Fun? He was hoping for another adjective, such as amazing, perfect, the best lover she’d ever had. Why was he taking this so personally? Hadn’t he just decided he needed to put distance between himself and Bindi? That there was way too much chemistry between them. And here she was offering him a way out on a silver platter.
“I think I was a bit…overwrought last night. What with Mutt appearing and everything. I did something I don’t normally do, and I’m sorry if I used you to help alleviate some of my mixed-up feelings. But I—”
He held up a hand to stop her and plastered a smile on his face. One more indecisive word from her would likely drive a dagger into his heart. If she was choosing to ignore the sparks that’d been flying between them merely a few minutes previous, then he could do the same. He needed to do the same. For his own sanity. This was exactly the same thing he’d been telling himself not five minutes ago.
“We obviously have a strong magnetism, but I agree. It’d be much better if we were just remain friends and coworkers, nothing more,” he said.
Relief was written in her features. But she quickly shuttered her gaze and turned away, and he wondered if there’d been some other emotion lurking in the depth of her eyes.
“Good. I’m glad that’s been decided.” She fiddled with the lid of her plastic bottle and wouldn’t look at him. “I’m sure—”
“I found a cell phone.” The senior sergeant’s voice interrupted whatever else Bindi had been about to say. Mack looked up to see the squat man marching toward them through the heat haze beginning to form on the flat plain. “It was on the ground a few feet away from the wreck. Must’ve been thrown free in the crash.”
“That’s mine,” Mack said, reaching out a hand. But was disappointed when he saw the screen was smashed to smithereens. Damn. He’d need to order a new one.
“What about my phone?” Bindi asked hopefully.
“You’re welcome to take a look.” The senior sergeant shrugged and pointed at the wreck. “But it’s a mess inside. An officer will go through it more thoroughly when it arrives at the police compound. They may well recover it then.”
“You’re taking it to the police compound?” Mack’s head came up. “Does that mean you believe me? That someone tampered with the wheel?”
“It’s policy whenever there’s a question as to what caused the accident. A forensics team will go over the vehicle. I’m not going to say any more than that at the moment, son.” Mack grimaced at the cop’s patronizing tone, but at least it seemed he was taking them seriously, so Mack refrained from replying.
“I’ll look for you,” Mack said, walking toward his smashed vehicle.
“Make it quick then, son,” Senior Sergeant Johnson responded. “The towie wants to get it up on the trailer soon.”
Mack hurried over to where his vehicle lay on its side in the dirt. Now that he was looking at it up close, he wondered again how they’d managed to escape relatively unscathed. Jagged cracks spider-webbed their way across the windshield, and the roof was partially caved in where the car had rolled over and over in the dust.
Gingerly, he clambered in through the passenger side window, the same way they’d escaped earlier.
A few minutes later, he emerged, feeling slightly less despondent. He’d found his black hat squashed in between the two seats. It was dusty and creased, but it was still in one piece. For some foolish reason, he was glad his hat hadn’t been lost. With any luck, the forensic guys might be able to pry loose his gear bag from the wreckage of the tray, too. He really hoped he hadn’t lost all of his bull-riding gear. It’d be hard to replace; he’d have to order it all in from the US. There was no sign of Bindi’s phone. It could be anywhere; might’ve even been thrown free of the wreck like his had been. Looked like they were both ordering new cells.
Bindi had wandered over to watch what he was doing. Placing the black hat on his head, he gave her a rakish smile.
He thought he heard her murmur, “Men,” before she turned away. But there was a definite smile on her face.
