Teacher's Pet Read Free Page B

and began to rinse out the cups.
    “You’re very domesticated,” she said, taking her place beside him to dry up.
    “Canadian men are.  It’s how our women like us.”
    How our women like us.  Our women.  Beautiful, tall Canadian women.  Like Melanie , Allie mused, putting the cups onto a tray.
    There was a short silence as he leaned back against the dresser to watch her make the coffee.  She no longer felt uncomfortable, just puzzled.  If he liked Melanie, then why was he staying?  And why did he keep looking at her?  She noticed he seemed momentarily lost in his own thoughts, and decided small talk was the remedy.
    “Do you use these in Canada?”
    “Use what?” He laughed.  “Cups?” 
    “No, cafetieres.”  She liked his sense of fun.
    “Sometimes,” he said, switching his gaze to the window.  “You have a beautiful garden.  Very colourful.  Are you the gardener?”
    “There’s only me here,” she reminded him. 
    She placed the cafetiere carefully onto the tray and walked towards the door.  As he leaned over to open it for her, she caught the smell of something earthy.  A delicious combination of his body, soap and aftershave, which excited her senses and made her want to breathe him in.  She thought she could feel his eyes on her back as they went out into the warm night air.  But then again, maybe she was imagining it.
    She was justifiably proud of her garden.  It contained pots, baskets, window boxes and all manner of containers filled with bright red geraniums, and had long borders full of night-scented stock, forget-me-nots, roses and lobelia.  She always felt calm when she was in the garden.  Sitting on her patio with the sun on her skin was her idea of paradise.  If she ever got to Heaven (and, to be honest, there was some doubt in light of her recent thoughts about the lovely Melanie) her garden would have to go with her.
    “I like this.  Now this is nice,” Paul said, sitting down at the wooden table and turning his gaze to the lawn.  The fading sunlight caught his face, emphasising his handsome profile.  “It reminds me of our family garden back in Canada.”  He paused, taking in the profusion of flowers around him, and the row of leafy trees that screened them from the rest of the world.  “Except it’s totally different,” he added, smiling at her suddenly.  His eyes were twinkling.
    “The same, yet totally different, I see.”  She laughed.  “You’ll have to explain that one, I’m afraid.  You’ve lost me there.”
    “Yeah.  When I try to wax lyrical, it soon descends into nonsense.  Sorry Allie.”  He sat back and stretched.  It was a luxurious, sexy movement.  Allie tried not to stare and turned her attention to pouring out the coffee.  He continued.  “I suppose I mean it has a good feel to it.  It’s a place you want to be.  Especially after a hard day.  Is this where you unwind?”
    She nodded, handing him a cup.  Their conversation flowed easily, punctuated by the sounds of a lazy suburban summer evening: children’s laughter in the distance, the drone of a lawnmower, birds coming home to roost.  The spicy smell of a distant barbeque drifted across.  As they talked, it gradually grew dark.   Eventually Allie lit a candle and drew her knees up in front of her on her chair. 
    “So, do you have a garden where you live now?” she asked.
    “No, it’s an apartment .  I have a balcony.  But you couldn’t swing a cat.”  He put down his cup.  “Not that I’d ever want to do that.  I wonder where that saying came from?  I bet it’s nautical.  They usually are.”
    Just as she was about to hazard a guess, his mobi le phone rang, cutting through the still night air.  Paul flicked it open.
    “Hello?  Hi.”  He grinned sheepishly at Allie.  “No.  What’s wrong?”  There was a pause.  As he listened, she noticed concern appear on his face.  He focused on a bush by the fence, looking intently at it, but not