Mr. Nice Guy by Belinda Williams

Chapter Six

Tom knewstraightaway that Chelsea was in trouble. Despite her mouth being open wide, she wasn’t coughing, nor was any sound coming out. Accompanying this worrying observation was the fact that Chelsea’s eyes were impossibly wide and she was grasping at her throat.

Tom shoved aside the stab of fear that pierced his chest and rounded the table to stand next to her.

‘I don’t usually manhandle my first dates, Chels, but you’re going to have to trust me,’ he told her, then raised his right arm in the air.

Chelsea’s eyes grew wider, but Tom didn’t hesitate.

He brought the heel of his hand down firmly in between her shoulder blades. Once. Twice. Three times. Still nothing. Four and five times.

A single tear trailed down Chelsea’s cheek, but no words came out.

‘Right. Phase two. This is not my usual style of hug, just in case you’re wondering.’

Tom positioned himself behind Chelsea’s doubled-over frame and wrapped his arms around her waist. He balled his right hand into a fist and gripped his wrist with his left hand, then pulled upwards.

Chelsea made a choking sound, which was good, but he wasn’t rewarded with any food for his efforts. He tried again. And again.

The third time, Chelsea coughed violently and a small piece of broccoli—or at least he thought it looked like broccoli—shot out of her mouth and bounced across the floor.

Chelsea collapsed in his arms, still coughing, and he’d never heard anything so good. Without thinking, he scooped her into his arms and carried her over to sit on his lap on the nearby sofa.

Tears streamed down Chelsea’s cheeks and he wiped them away—also without thinking.

‘Oh . . . my . . . God,’ she rasped.

‘Shh. Don’t talk. Just catch your breath.’

Chelsea did as he instructed, inhaling greedy gulps of air, apparently oblivious to the fact that her backside was planted squarely in his lap and his arms were around her.

He noticed. He noticed a lot. So sue him.

She felt more delicate than he’d expected. Not fragile—Chelsea was too vibrant and vital for that—but feminine. She felt feminine, and didn’t his body know about it?

Chelsea finally stopped coughing and rested her head on his shoulder, curling up against him.

‘Holy crap,’ she whispered. ‘I couldn’t breathe. I really couldn’t breathe, and you saved me.’

Holy crap, indeed. She felt good nestled against him like this, and there were all those not so Mr. Nice Guy thoughts again. The ones where he imagined her naked on his lap, for instance, and breathless for a variety of other reasons.

She was beginning to shiver—from shock, most likely—so Tom tightened his hold and rubbed a palm in gentle circular motions across her back. Purely professional, of course.

Liar.

Chelsea took more time to breathe again, and so did Tom. She smelled good. Really good. Like that fresh shampoo she used, the sea air, and the scent of jasmine.

After a while, Chelsea released a ragged sigh, then eased back and looked at him.

‘I seriously thought you were doing some weird-arse jujitsu move on me at first,’ she told him.

‘No. It’s the five-and-five method,’ he replied, pretending he wasn’t out of breath himself. ‘It can sometimes work before it’s necessary to try the Heimlich manoeuvre.’

‘Yeah, I’ve done first aid, so I realise that now. I also get what the Heimlich manoeuvre was all about, thanks. And so did that piece of broccoli.’

Her hair had come out of her ponytail, and while her eyes were no longer wide, they were startlingly blue. Tom brushed some of the hair out of her face, then dropped his hand.

Too much?

Chelsea blinked, and then seemed to finally realise where she was. She blinked again, and Tom expected her to scramble off him, but she didn’t. She went still.

‘Chels?’

She swallowed. ‘So, ah. Most memorable first date ever, huh?’

Tom allowed himself to smile, although his stomach was taut with the painful awareness of the beautiful woman currently sitting in his lap.

‘You could say that. First time someone has ever rejected my curry so wholeheartedly.’

She nudged him. ‘I didn’t reject your curry. I love your curry.’ Then she narrowed her eyes. ‘But I am beginning to suspect that it’s trying to kill me.’

He hesitated only a beat before replying. ‘That’s OK. I’m a paramedic.’

They dissolved into fits of laughter, gasping for air, but in a good way this time. Chelsea threw her head back, laughing hard. Tom couldn’t help but notice the strong column of her neck and the smooth skin of her upper chest disappearing to the seductive rise of her breasts.

Tom felt his laughter fade. Shit. What was he doing? Pretending to be Chelsea’s Mr. Nice Guy? What a joke. He wasn’t a nice guy. He was being a creep. He never should have agreed to this stupid deal. In a moment of madness, he’d thought he could show her she deserved better. And OK, a small part of him wanted Chelsea to look at him differently for a change. Not just as nice, dependable, easygoing Tom. But as hot Tom.

All this stupid arrangement was doing was highlighting Tom’s inappropriate feelings for Chelsea. She wouldn’t find him hot unless all the bad boys suddenly and inexplicably disappeared from the face of the earth. Until then, he needed to get a grip.

Oblivious to his inner turmoil, Chelsea lowered her head and looked at him, tears of laughter in her eyes.

‘Hey,’ she said, ‘little do I know, you might have booby trapped dinner so you’d have to give me mouth-to-mouth.’

Tom put his hands on her waist and shifted her onto the seat beside him, slipping out from underneath her weight. He left her sitting on the sofa and went to collect the plates, needing to put some distance between them.

‘Not my style, I’m afraid. I prefer a woman who wants to kiss me.’ He didn’t do a very good job of hiding his annoyance, which meant Chelsea had gotten under his skin more than he’d first thought.

Chelsea frowned. ‘Sorry, it was a just a joke. I wasn’t implying . . . I didn’t mean . . . You know what? I’m pleading a momentary lapse of reasoning on account of the lack of oxygen to my brain, alright? Of course you’d prefer a woman who wants to kiss you.’

Just not you.

Stop it, Tom. You’re being childish.

‘Naturally,’ he replied easily, despite his shoulders feeling tight and the disturbing conversation happening in his head. ‘And someone might think you were trying to get out of the earlier topic of conversation by almost dying.’

Chelsea twisted on the sofa to watch him clean up. ‘What? The university comment? Yeah, right. I don’t need to choke to distract myself from the truth, I’ve already accepted it. I’m not university material.’

‘I don’t know what gave you that idea,’ Tom said, bending to put the bowls in the dishwasher. ‘You’d get decent credit for your diploma and industry experience. It would take you less time than you think.’

‘Um, Tom, you’re probably not aware of this because you’re older than me and weren’t in my year at school, but I’m not exactly a scholar.’

‘So? You’re older now and more mature. You could complete a degree if you wanted to.’

‘No. I don’t think I could. Although it’s nice of you to say so.’

Nice. There was that goddamn word again. It cut through some of his usual calm, which was already fraying at the edges due to his apparently one-sided attraction to his housemate.

‘Chelsea, I’m not being nice. The only thing stopping you is you.’

Chelsea picked at a loose thread on the edge of the sofa. ‘Then maybe I don’t want it that much, that’s all.’

‘Bullshit.’

They fell silent. Way to go, Tom. So much for a “nice” first date. So far he’d managed to nearly drown, almost killed her with dinner, and now he was swearing at her.

But if Tom was anything besides nice, he was honest. To hell with it, he figured.

‘Chelsea,’ he tried again. ‘I think you do want it. Everything you’ve said tonight and before tonight suggests to me that you want more out of your working life. More responsibility. More money. You just told me you don’t want to be doing what you’re doing now when you’re fifty. I just think you’re too scared to go for it.’

Chelsea stood up, looking a little unsteady on her feet. Tom immediately felt bad, but didn’t apologise. Chelsea deserved his honesty. She was the sort of woman who was worthy of success, and Tom genuinely wanted that for her.

‘I’m not scared. I’m just realistic. I’m not as smart as you think I am, Tom.’

Now her gorgeous eyes appeared defeated, and he strode from the kitchen to stand in front of her.

‘Chels? This is because of your family, isn’t it? Your sisters? I know they were always good at school. If they’ve put this idea in your head, it’s only because they were jealous of you.’

‘Jealous? What could they possibly be jealous of me for? They’ve always been smarter and prettier than me.’

Tom’s crush on Chelsea got a little stronger in that moment. She didn’t see it—had never seen it. Which is why she was such an amazing girl.

‘They were jealous because you’re you. You were winning at sport when they were too scared to get on a sports field. You had your father’s attention because of it. You were in a rock band when they were playing clarinet and trumpet in a concert band. Face it, Chels, you were the cool black sheep.’

‘Hardly. I didn’t choose bass to rebel or be cool. I just wanted to play popular music. I’m a terrible singer and bass seemed easiest. See? I’m lazy.’

‘I also bet you didn’t try as hard as you could at school because you figured you could never be as good as your sisters. Am I right?’ Tom knew he’d hit a sore point when she hesitated.

‘Maybe,’ she admitted at last. ‘But come on, it’s been ten years since I’ve been at school and I was average at best then.’

‘Now you’re older—I won’t say more mature, because you don’t seem to like that. But what if you actually tried this time around?’

Chelsea crossed her arms. ‘OK, so let’s say I try. I already have a full-time job. There’s that.’

‘You do the course part-time, and you convince Dragon Lady having a fully qualified teacher on the staff will benefit the business so she gives you time off when you need it. She doesn’t need to know that your long-term goal is to open your own centre.’

‘You’re full of answers for everything, aren’t you?’ She sounded exasperated.

‘And my life-threatening curry was actually an enlightening near-death experience.’

She dropped her hands by her sides and laughed. ‘I don’t know why we’ve never hung out more before now. You’re fun and good for my ego.’

Tom ignored the flicker of hope that zipped down his spine at spending more time with Chelsea. The funny thing was, he’d never realised before now just how much he wanted to spend more time with her. She’d always been cute, bubbly Chelsea who shared his apartment but never gave him a second glance. Any attraction he’d had to her in the past, he’d been able to write off as a pointless crush.

Now? He wasn’t so sure.

As if to make his point, Chelsea stood on tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek, which left his skin tingling and his heart hammering in his chest.

‘That’s for saving my life,’ she said. ‘And for dinner as well as the career advice. Apart from the almost dying part, it was a nice first date.’ She looked up at him with mischievous eyes. ‘I’m also wondering, if this was only day one, I can’t wait to see what you’ve got in store for me tomorrow.’