Susan stacked the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher, trying not to let resentment dampen her mood.
Jasmine and Lucy sat at the table with Nolan and the cameraman, enjoying a second cup of coffee and discussing the upcoming day. A persistent drizzle clattered against the iron roof, the gray sky and dull landscape paralleling her worsening disposition. If this rain continued, there was no way she’d manage a clandestine meeting with Tyler.
A black truck rolled to a stop outside the kitchen door, its mud-splattered appearance typical of the farm vehicles she’d seen since her arrival in Clare. A man climbed out of the driver’s side and walked around to open the passenger door.
“You have visitors,” Susan said and reached for the empty coffee carafe to put on another pot.
The kitchen door burst open and Nolan’s mother stalked inside, a newspaper clutched in her right hand. She scanned the kitchen until her gaze settled on Susan.
“You! How could you betray Nolan in such a public manner?”
The coffeepot wavered in Susan’s hand. She turned away and poured cold water into the coffeemaker.
“Don’t turn your back on me! I want you to pack your bags and leave.”
Susan glared at the cameraman. “Turn that thing off.”
“Nope.” His smug smile showed beneath the camera. “You signed away your rights and gave me permission to film anything.”
“Nothing to stop me leaving.” Susan turned to escape the nasty gleam in Mrs. Penrith’s eyes.
“Not so fast.” Mrs. Penrith caught Susan’s arm and tugged her to an abrupt halt. The woman was stronger than she looked, her fingers digging into Susan’s biceps.
“Let me go,” Susan demanded.
“Mum, what are you doing? Let her go.”
“I knew someone with her morals—a stripper—would tow bad gossip to our family. This town. She’s tarnished our good name with her presence, and now she’s sleeping with Tyler.”
“What are you talking about?” Susan demanded.
At the table, Jasmine and Lucy started whispering to each other.
“Mum,” Nolan said. “Susan doesn’t know Tyler.”
“According to this paper, she does.” Satisfaction oozed from Mrs. Penrith’s voice. “She spent the weekend with him up in Auckland. Look, it gives all the details here in this article and they say the internet is buzzing with the news this morning.”
Someone spilled the beans. It wouldn’t be one of her friends—they’d never do that. She rifled through memory files, frantically wondering what to do or say, how to react.
Deny.
Yes. Deny, deny, deny.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Susan rubbed her arm and did her best woman-done-wrong expression.
“Read the newspaper and judge for yourself,” Mrs. Penrith snapped, almost flinging the paper at her son.
“I don’t have to do anything.” Nolan stood. “Dad, did you want to help me check the sheep?”
“Yes, son.”
Nolan’s father stood inside the door like a timid mouse. Susan hadn’t noticed him in all the drama. He turned and left as quietly as he’d entered.
“You tell my son the truth.” Mrs. Penrith approached, her gaze stabbing into Susan like pointy daggers.
Time for a strategic retreat. “I’m going for a walk,” Susan said.
“But it’s raining,” the cameraman said.
“You can’t run away from the truth,” Mrs. Penrith spat.
“The fresh air would be a welcome change,” Susan said, swift steps taking her from the kitchen to the privacy of her bedroom.
Inside, she shut the door and leaned against the hard wood while marshalling her thoughts. Someone had blabbed. She sighed and pushed away from the door. Not that it mattered when she’d changed her mind about country living.
A quick glance out the window showed her it was still raining. Too bad. She had a coat and the fresh air might clear her head. She plucked her coat from the wardrobe, and a few minutes later, she was hurrying outside. The second she breathed in cool air, the weight on her shoulders lightened. She turned her face to the sky, letting the drops of rain splatter across her skin, the cool water waking her from her stupor, washing away some of her guilt.
Mrs. Penrith disliked her and intended to lob torpedoes at her head. Maybe she should go home, despite Jennifer’s objections and arguments. Gravel crunched underneath her feet with each long-legged stomp.
Unsure of which way to go when she reached the end of the drive, she hesitated then turned right.
Her phone buzzed and she pulled it out of her pocket, trying to shield the screen from the rain. She read the message and some of her irritation faded.
Instead of texting back, she rang Tyler. “Did you know that we’re in the newspaper today?”
“Me? Why?”
“Someone saw us together in Auckland. They added two and two and like all mathematicians came up with a creditable answer. They implied I was seeing another man. They said I was cheating on Nolan.”
Tyler was silent for a moment. “You are having an affair with me.”
“I know, and right now I don’t feel good about myself. I stomped out of the house in righteous indignation and now I’ve no idea where I’m going.”
“Which way did you turn coming out of the drive?”
“Right.”
“Good choice,” he said. “I’ll see you in a few.”
“Wait—” She muttered a rude word under her breath when Tyler hung up. Sighing, she wiped the screen of her phone and tucked it away in her pocket. Too late to tell Tyler she didn’t think it was a good idea for them to hang out—not until the reality show ended.
Susan continued to stomp in her chosen direction, keeping to the shoulder of the road. About five minutes later, a wave caught her attention.
“Over here,” Tyler said. “You’ll have to climb the fence.”
Susan squeezed her body through two sagging wires and stood to right her appearance.
“You’re gorgeous.” Tyler stepped closer until the distance between them was gone. He stared down at her upturned face and brushed his fingers across her cheek. “I’ve missed you.”
“We shouldn’t be doing this, meeting secretly. It’s not right.” An understatement for sure.
Tyler pulled her against his chest, his comforting touch easing her scattered emotions, her anxiety. “Do you want me to tell Nolan? I can’t walk away from you, Susan.” His grip on her back tightened to a point shy of pain.
“No, if anyone tells Nolan, it should be me. I keep thinking he won’t choose me. Logic tells me that.” She pulled back to stare up at him. “I don’t understand your brother.”
Tyler laughed, the sharp bark full of tension, confusion. “Hell, I don’t understand my brother, and we grew up together.”
“Doesn’t he talk to you either?”
“In a social situation—sure. We’ll say hello if we see each other in the street or the pub, but we don’t go out of our way to promote contact.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to cause trouble between the two of you. I suppose I could tell Nolan I’m homesick and want to leave.”
“No!” Tyler stepped back, breaking the contact between their bodies. “Are you homesick?”
“I miss my friends, my job.”
“Would you miss me?”
Yes. “We haven’t known each other for long.”
“Susan.”
“Yes, I’d miss you.”
“Thank you. Stay,” he said, grasping her hand. “You only have another week.”
Braced for fallout on her return, it took hours for Susan to relax. She interrupted Jasmine and Lucy in a huddle a couple of times, and finally retreated to the kitchen to make dinner.
“I want to interview you on camera about Mrs. Penrith’s allegations,” the cameraman said on entering the kitchen.
Susan stirred her pan of onions. “No.”
“Mrs. Penrith is correct. The forum is full of gossip.”
“Leave her alone,” Nolan said.
Susan flinched. Bother, she hadn’t heard him enter the kitchen.
The cameraman lifted his camera and zoomed in on Nolan. “Don’t you want to know if the gossip is true?”
“Susan has said it isn’t true, and that’s enough for me.”
The camera shifted to her, and Susan grasped for innocent-woman-done-wrong. Please let her pull this off. Admitting the truth now would mean she’d have to leave. Was it so wrong to want a few more days with Tyler?
“Do you have any comments, Susan?”
Susan lifted her chin and stared into the camera. “No.”
And wouldn’t that just stir the gossip pot, she thought. Another gross understatement.
The next few days were free of Mrs. Penrith, free of nosy questions, free of drama. While Jasmine and Lucy lazed in bed or visited the local hair salon during the afternoons, Susan took long walks. Apart from helping out with Katey’s birthday party—a huge success thanks to Christina’s help via Skype—and taking part in the reality show activities, she kept to herself and her thoughts.
Tyler.
She couldn’t resist the man. Their snatched meetings, hurried kisses…
Today, the sun fought the cloud cover, piercing the sullen gray to cast bright patches of light on the mud landscape—a decided improvement from the last days of intermittent rain. Susan splashed through a puddle in her new red gumboots—her recent purchase after becoming tired of cold, wet feet and muddy runners.
Laughing, she jumped into the next puddle. The rumble of an approaching vehicle had her scurrying behind a nearby bush. She grasped a branch and let out a yelp when stupid prickles bit into her palm, but maintained her secretive crouch.
“Lucky escape.” Her gaze narrowed on the rear bumper of the vehicle. Mrs. Penrith was about to inflict herself on Jasmine and Lucy. No problem for them, since the woman adored both girls, and they liked her back. Stupid rose-tinted glasses.
The growl of the vehicle faded, and Susan rose. A nearby sheep let out a baa and Susan’s world righted. She might miss the city and her friends, her daily bowl of latte and the local library, but the country had its charms.
Sexy red gumboots.
Cute animals.
Hunky men.
She turned off the road onto the narrow sheep trail that led down the hill to the dam. A fantail flitted around her, snatching up the tiny bugs she disturbed with each step.
Susan spied Tyler first. “Hey.”
Nice ass. Very sexy farmers in the country.
He turned, and his welcoming grin pushed her pulse rate up a gear. “I missed you.” With two giant steps, he reached her and hauled her into his arms. She clung, glorying in the instant lust, the urgency in his kiss. Passion rolled over her like a wave, dragging her under until every thought, every concern melted away. When Tyler lifted his head, they were both breathing hard. “You’re later than usual.”
“Your mother decided to visit today. I had to hide behind a bush.” She offered her hand palm up. “It bit me with its prickles.”
“What bush? There aren’t any trees on the road…” He trailed off with a blinding grin. “Did this bush have yellow flowers?”
“Yes.”
“That’s a gorse bush. The earlier settlers introduced the plants and used them as fencing. Dad likes to keep the old fence, but in most places they’re a noxious weed.” He examined her hand, grinned again and brushed his lips on the delicate skin of her wrist.
A shiver blasted through her at the touch of his lips, the sensation cavorting at lots of hot spots on the way. “I need to get a sexy outfit that comes with gloves.” Who knew hands were erogenous zones?
“Liked that, did you?”
“I like everything you do to me.”
“The feeling is mutual.” Tyler swung her off the ground. “Like the gumboots.”
“Cool, huh? I’ve no idea what I’ll do with them when I go back to Auckland.”
“Shush, too much talking.” He settled her on her feet next to a blanket. The spot he’d chosen was in the sun, yet protected by trees on three sides. They’d have plenty of warning if someone decided to interrupt their tryst. “Let me see those pretty breasts of yours. I want to watch your nipples pull tight when the winter air hits them.”
“Perv.”
“When it comes to you—guilty.”
Susan kicked off her boots and wriggled out of her clothes. The minute she saw him, her doubts, her insecurities, her guilt sped away on angel’s wings. Her blood thickened and pulsed through her veins while his kisses were plain intoxicating. She didn’t think when she spent time with Tyler. She just felt.
His cool hands cupped her breasts, his callused fingers following the curve of her bra cup.
“Your hands are cold.”
“When I get my mouth on you, you won’t feel a thing.”
“Promises, promises.” Heady desire surged through her, prompting the siren out to play.
“I wish I had time to draw you like this.” His gaze lingered on her limbs, the curve of her hips, her breasts. “I’ll give it a go from memory.”
“I hope no one sees these drawings of yours.”
“My eyes only.”
Susan dropped onto the blanket, the waterproof undercoating crinkling as she settled her weight. “Undress slow. Do a strip for me.” She started humming appropriate strip music.
Tyler’s wide grin did things to her insides, heated her sex with a sensual ache. Tiny lines fanned the outer edges of his eyes as his hands worked the buttons on his heavy denim shirt. Slowly, he removed the garment and swiveled his hips in a slow circle.
“Nice.”
His shirt landed beside her, and his fingers went to his belt buckle.
She paused her humming. “Unless you’re wearing special jeans, you’re gonna want to remove your boots first.”
“Did I mention we’re running against the clock here?”
“No.” Disappointment stripped away her smile and brought a halt to her playful hum.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s not your fault.”
Tyler rapidly removed his boots and shucked his jeans and boxer-briefs in one swift move. He grabbed a condom from a pocket and donned it before turning to her. “God, you’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you’re here with me.” His kiss grazed her lips, as if he were uncertain and intended to give her time for a rejection.
Their meeting was wrong on so many levels, yet…no, she couldn’t turn him away. She couldn’t. Her arms wrapped around his neck, drawing their bodies together. Her legs splayed in silent invitation. No foreplay necessary, not when she craved him, thought about him whenever they were apart.
Tyler reached between them and guided his cock into place. She sighed, the pleasure of his initial stroke always so special. Magical. Perfect.
He set up a slow rhythm, pushing into her heat and retreating while kissing her lips, her throat and pausing occasionally to tease her nipples. Her climax built layer upon layer with each brush of his penis against her clit. Susan lifted her hips into his surges, silently demanding more, but he kept the steady pace, his knowledge of her body guiding his lovemaking.
Finally, the swell of her climax burst over her and she cried out, clinging to Tyler’s broad shoulders. So, so good.
He powered into her now, each thrust sending another tiny jolt through her vagina. She held him as he shuddered, his groans of pleasure smothered against her neck. Beneath her stroking hand, he trembled.
The elimination would take place tomorrow. Nolan would send her home this time for sure. Mrs. Penrith hated her and made this clear to anyone who asked her opinion.
Susan fought her urge to cry. Tyler…she’d miss him, yet she couldn’t stay here either because she’d end up making both of them miserable.
A feminine cry rang out, jerking Nolan to a surprised halt. Not the normal call he’d hear in the dam paddock. The sultry sob repeated, and this time he caught a flash of movement down by the dam—a pale backside.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
He blinked and looked again. No mistake this time.
Nolan sank down and watched. Suspicions flashed through his mind, but he wanted to make sure. His hands clasped his knees, the knuckles bleeding of color.
The couple kissed, the kiss of long-familiar lovers, and his eyes narrowed. The sun scooted behind a cloud, bleaching the day of its warmth.
Fitting.
The man stood and reached out to help up the woman. Soft laughter floated over the gunmetal gray of the dam water. Dark clouds skittered over the sky and the rain started again. Below, the couple scrambled into their clothes and donned coats against the weather.
With one quick embrace, they parted, the woman taking the trail leading to the road while the man, a cheerful whistle floating in his wake, strutted along the path leading to the Murdoch farm.
Tyler and Susan.
His baby brother.
Nolan peeled his cramped hands from his knee, let the blood flow back into his fingers and stood before silently walking down to the dam to open the gate for the cattle.
“You’re a depraved woman,” Mrs. Penrith snapped.
Same old, same old. Susan ignored the woman’s wrath and hung up her coat to dry. During the walk home, she’d tripped on a concealed stick. Her hip ached, mud soaked her clothes. Her mood hovered a hairsbreadth from depression.
Behind Mrs. Penrith, Jasmine and Lucy covered their mouths, their eyes dancing with mirth—a warning of a storm set to land at her expense.
Susan’s shoulders slumped. “I’m going to have a bath.”
“What have you to say for yourself?”
“Nothing,” Susan said, too miserable to whip up her temper.
The cameraman appeared behind Jasmine and Lucy, the smirk beneath the camera casing alerting Susan that Mrs. Penrith wasn’t talking general depravity. Something specific had rattled the woman’s cage.
Too bad she didn’t care.
Susan turned away, ignoring Elizabeth Penrith’s rising squawks. Susan grabbed her robe from behind her bedroom door and headed for the bathroom.
Mrs. Penrith followed her. “I should have known you’d be one of those girls.”
Susan shut the bathroom door in her face and shot the lock.
“I’m not finished.”
Too bad. Susan ran a hot bath and stripped off her clothes, prodding at her hip. Sore, but she’d live. She had a tub of arnica rub. Susan sank into the bathwater, letting the heat soak into her aches and drive away her encompassing chill.
Half an hour later, she limped into the kitchen and started to make a pot of peppermint tea.
“What’s wrong with you?” the cameraman asked.
Susan eyed his camera with foreboding. “It’s slippery out there. I tripped and took a fall.”
“You okay?”
“Bruised hip and battered pride,” she said. “Want a cup of tea?”
“I don’t want any of that herbal shit.”
“There are some English Breakfast teabags.”
“Thanks,” the cameraman said. “Milk and—”
“Two sugars,” Susan finished. The murmur of feminine voices came from the lounge and Susan glanced in that direction. “Care to give me a heads-up on what’s jabbing Mrs. Penrith in the arse?”
“Nope.” The instant smirk sparked humor in the cameraman’s brown eyes.
“Joy,” Susan said, her tone dry enough for him to bark out a laugh.
“It would be better if you got the full impact.” This time he sniggered.
“There you are, you hussy,” Mrs. Penrith shrieked.
The outer door opened and shut. A coat rustled, and Nolan entered the kitchen.
“Nolan, she has to go home,” Mrs. Penrith ordered. “She lacks moral fortitude.”
Susan made another mug of tea and handed it to Nolan.
“Thanks.”
“Nolan!”
Nolan glared at his mother. “I heard you the first time. I’d also like to point out this is my home. If you want to rant and rave, you can do it at your place. I moved here to escape arguments and screaming matches.”
“There’s no need to air our private affairs.” Mrs. Penrith sent an uneasy glance at the camera.
Nolan snorted. “I’m sure every family owns dirty laundry.”
“But, Nolan, you don’t know what she’s like,” Mrs. Penrith said, her glance at Susan full of spite.
“Oh, I have a pretty good idea.”
Something in his tone dragged Susan’s focus to him. It wasn’t what he said, but the slight inflection. Her stomach hollowed out, and she felt the need to sit. Instead, she picked up her cup of tea and leaned against the kitchen counter.
“I’ve done everything asked of me,” Susan said.
Mrs. Penrith snorted. “You grab attention from the other girls with your unguarded tongue and your controversial blog entries. You don’t give the other girls a chance to shine. But that’s not all.”
Susan tensed at the malice in the older woman. She worked hard to be a better person, and while she didn’t always succeed, at least she tried. This woman did her best to make people miserable.
“Spit it out, Mum,” Nolan said in a tired voice. “We’re not going to get any peace until you’ve accused Susan to her face.”
Fear swelled in Susan as she glanced at Nolan. Her attention shifted to the cameraman who was recording the entire scene. Did Mrs. Penrith know about her and Tyler in truth? It wouldn’t be the end of the world, but she might land in trouble with Jennifer.
“Look at this.” Mrs. Penrith produced a sealed plastic bag and held it up like a courtroom specimen.
Susan stared.
Everyone else stared.
A blush sneaked up Susan’s neck, crashing over cheeks and heating her face. She was not going to apologize. She would not. “It’s a vibrator. Mr. Blue,” she added. “Is there any reason in particular why you felt the need to search my personal belongings?”
“Don’t try to shift the conversation, you hussy! A proper girl wouldn’t consider bringing one of these into Nolan’s house.”
“That’s enough,” Nolan snapped. “Give it back to Susan.”
“But…but…” Mrs. Penrith stuttered. She recovered quickly, drawing herself up. “What sort of girl has…has…things like that?”
“Enough.” Susan held out her hand. “I’m not going to apologize for packing my vibrator. Jasmine and Lucy probably have one too, but they weren’t clever enough to bring theirs with them.” Susan drew a breath, beating down the urge to say more.
“Despicable,” Mrs. Penrith said.
Susan failed, words spitting from her like machine-gun bullets. “Doctors invented vibrators to cure hysteria. Maybe you should have a treatment. It might cure your viperous tongue.” She snatched the plastic bag from Mrs. Penrith and marched from the kitchen, escaping the heavy, pulsing silence.
In her bedroom, she chucked Mr. Blue at the wall in lieu of howling. Her hands shook as she cradled her mug of tea, the peppermint fumes doing nothing to aid her state of mind.
Well, no doubt about who would head home after the filming tonight. But surely they wouldn’t show this segment on public television? A groan escaped. Of course they would. Once the show ran, viewers would fall over themselves to discuss Mr. Blue.
The local pub was packed when Susan followed Nolan, Lucy and Jasmine inside. A rock band from nearby Napier belted out cover songs and sang about hungry hearts. How long would it take for the latest juicy rumor to spread? No doubt it would grow in absurdity, taking off like Chinese whispers as it ranged from person to person.
“Would you like to dance?” Nolan asked.
Surprise struck Susan at the same time it hit Jasmine and Lucy. “Sure.”
She refused to apologize for a healthy sex drive. Surely that was a good thing. Certainly better than jumping from bed to bed in order to cure an itch. “I’m sorry if I’ve created friction between you and your mother.” Dang it. She hadn’t meant to do that. Hadn’t meant to apologize when she wasn’t the one at fault.
But she was guilty. Her inner self lashed out with a brutal kick to remind her of her culpability.
“It’s all right,” Nolan said. “Mum had no business poking around in your room. She won’t be coming to the house again, not without my direct invitation.”
Susan nodded. Too little, too late. Nolan should have stood up to his mother years ago and then she wouldn’t be shoving her nose into his personal life. Not that it was any of her business. It wasn’t as if she’d have to deal with Mrs. Penrith again.
The music came to a halt.
“I’d better go and grab one of the other girls to dance,” Nolan said.
“I’ll see you later in the private function room.”
This time he nodded, a curt jerk of his head before he strode away. Susan frowned after him. A hum of chatter rose and swelled over to her right.
Mrs. Penrith.
Susan stomped rapidly in the other direction, glad she’d donned a simple pair of black trousers and a tunic top rather than her good dress that would have restricted her freedom and consigned her to high heels. Instead she wore a pair of boots, which aided her quick getaway.
A glass of wine. That would steady her nerves, make her forget the X painted on her back. And it would give her something to do with her hands.
She made for the bar.
“Squeeze in beside me,” a blonde woman said.
“Thanks.” Susan waited for judgment.
It didn’t come.
Instead, the woman smiled. “I hear you’ve had quite a day.”
Susan wrinkled her nose. “Which is why I’m desperate for a drink. I’m Susan, in case you didn’t already know. Are you a local or are you one of the many press who’ve suddenly decided I’m fatally interesting?”
The woman shook her head, and her blonde curls swayed with the movement. She held out her hand while Susan waited for bar service. “I’m Yvonne, and I’ve lived here for a few months now. My aunt owns the local bookstore—the one with the café—and I help her out.”
Susan noticed Yvonne’s almost empty wine glass. “What are you drinking? Sav Blanc or Chardonnay?”
“The house Sav,” Yvonne said. “It comes from one of the local vineyards.”
“I might as well buy a bottle. Ooh, look! There’s a table. Grab it and we can sit together—that’s if you’re willing to risk it. I am a fallen woman. The jury is out, but I hear it might be catchy.”
Yvonne barked out a laugh and slid off her bar stool. “I’m divorced with children. I believe I hit the floor before you.”
“Ah, thanks for breaking my landing. Since we have so much in common, would you like to share my bottle of wine?”
A strange expression flickered across Yvonne’s face, but after a brief hesitation, she smiled—a friendly one without barbs. “That would be lovely. If I sit alone, the local men think they need to keep me company. In return, they expect fringe benefits.”
“Ugh. Be there to save you in a moment,” Susan said.
A few locals whispered behind their hands when Susan joined Yvonne. Susan ignored their rudeness.
“I think I walked past your aunt’s store the other day when I came to town to buy a pair of gumboots. There was a queue out the door, so I figured you must serve good coffee.”
“You should have come inside. My aunt makes really good blueberry muffins and delicious cheese scones. She loves to bake, but hates serving customers. This works for both of us, because after spending a lot of time with my kids, I need adult conversation.”
“That’s what my friend Julia says. You need a balance, otherwise it’s easy to drift into crazy.”
Susan poured wine for Yvonne and sloshed some into her own glass. “Are people staring?”
“A little. The people who live in Clare are mostly nice and supportive. They’re only gossiping because Mrs. Penrith is stirring them up with a big, ole wooden spoon.”
The nuances in Yvonne’s tone snapped up Susan’s head. She eyed the woman closely. “You’ve had a run-in with her too.”
Yvonne pulled a quick face. “I went out with Nolan a couple of times. She didn’t think I was a suitable girlfriend candidate.”
“Nolan needs to grow a spine.”
“Not my problem,” Yvonne said.
Susan sipped her wine, taking in the other woman’s body language—her careless shrug and the contrasting tremor of her hand. The giveaway signs were subtle and most people wouldn’t notice.
“Ladies,” a masculine voice said.
Susan tipped back her head and smiled. Probably a bad move, but she couldn’t resist the naughty twinkle in Tyler’s eyes. “Is Josie babysitting tonight?”
“She volunteered. Hi, Yvonne. How are you?” He brushed a friendly kiss on the other woman’s cheek and a sliver of jealousy pierced Susan.
The touch of envy was still throbbing through her when Tyler pulled up a seat. “I hope you don’t mind me joining you.”
“Of course not,” Yvonne said. “David and Michael had a lovely time at Katey’s birthday party. Did you do the face painting?”
“Yes, I had as much fun as the kids.”
The two discussed their children and the party, and Susan started to feel left out, even though she’d attended. A local man asked her to dance, and she stood with alacrity. Yvonne was a nice woman—the type of woman Tyler should hook up with. Someone who had interests in common. Children. Roots in a community.
When she returned from the second dance, Nolan sat with Tyler and Yvonne.
“Ah, there you are,” Nolan said. “I wondered where you’d disappeared. I was just telling Tyler and Yvonne about Mr. Blue.” His lips quivered while he fought his amusement.
“Did you have to?”
“I can’t believe she went through your stuff,” Tyler said, indignant on Susan’s behalf.
“You’re lucky Mum didn’t decide to follow Susan on her walks,” Nolan said. “Yvonne, would you like to dance?” He held out his hand when she hesitated while Susan stared at him in horror.
Had Nolan seen them together?
Susan waited until Nolan and Yvonne were safely on the dance floor before leaning toward Tyler. “What did he mean? Do you think he knows something?”
“He would have said,” Tyler said.
“I keep telling you he’s not interested in me. He displayed more interest in Yvonne than he shows to me.”
“They dated a couple of times.”
“So she said.” But maybe Nolan was playing games with everyone. She turned on her seat to search out Nolan on the dance floor. “Those two are more than friends.”
“They’re not even touching each other.”
“Tyler, we don’t touch each other when we’re together in a public place. It’s what they’re not doing that tells the story.” And the way Nolan looked at the blonde woman when he didn’t think anyone was watching. She recognized the quick glance for what it was because that was how she studied Tyler.
“Maybe.” He stood. “Dance with me.” He leaned closer under the pretext of not having to shout against the music. “Give me a reason to touch you.”
“You’re always touching me.”
“Not enough for my liking,” he whispered and drew her to the crowded dance floor.
At first she struggled to keep a respectable distance from Tyler. Impossible with the force of the bodies, all seeking to squeeze into the limited space. Finally, she gave up, plastered a friendly grin on her lips and rested against him. Like most people around them, they swayed on the spot.
“Stop copping a feel.”
His hands whisked over her butt again, drawing their lower bodies together. “But it’s so much fun.” His warm breath tickled her ear, transmitting hot, lustful messages where they had no business traveling—especially in a public place.
When the song ended, she pulled away and fought fluster. “Thank you for the dance.” If all else failed, she’d resort to the polite niceties drummed into her by her mother.
“My pleasure.” A wicked light shone in his eyes, the curve of his mouth lifting in an uptick of amusement. “Any time.”
“Susan, it’s time to head to the function room.” Nolan stood with Yvonne at his side, both studiously ignoring the other.
“It was lovely to meet you, Yvonne,” Susan said.
“Drop by the bookstore. I’ll buy you a coffee,” Yvonne said.
Susan didn’t think she’d still be here to visit Yvonne. Despite her doubt, she smiled and nodded. “I’d like that.”
Nolan trailed Susan as she wove through the crowd to the function room.
“Good luck, Susan,” one of the guys from the Clare rugby team shouted.
“Yeah!” another man called.
Nolan caught his mother’s glare and grinned inwardly. She’d rung him earlier. He’d taken great pleasure in hanging up on her. Then he’d left the phone off the hook and switched off his cell.
Ignoring his mother had felt really good.
He spotted his father standing with his friends and stopped to say hello. “Hey, Dad.”
“Son.” His father leaned close. “You should choose the girl with the vibrator.”
“Mum told you about that, did she?”
“Oh yeah. I got an earful during the ride here.” His father grinned. “I like a girl with a spine. Makes me want to be a better man.”
Nolan nodded because he understood what his father meant. “See you in the morning.”
“Son?”
“Yeah, Dad?”
“I’m going to move out of the house. Your mother refuses to give me a divorce, but I don’t have to live with her in misery.”
Nolan blinked. His father had gone and got some balls. “Is there someone else?”
“No. There was a long time ago, when you were ten. I wasn’t brave enough to walk away from my marriage. I need to talk to Tyler. Do you know where he is?”
“Over there with Yvonne.” Nolan’s stomach sank at the admission.
“We’ll talk tomorrow. Good luck with the filming, son.”
Nolan gave his father a curt nod and sauntered to the function room. He smiled at everyone who thought he needed advice, but he knew exactly what he had to do.