Chapter Thirteen

When Murdoch dropped her home an hour later, Sera quickly put on her shirt and tights. Her Papa might ‘like’ Murdoch didn’t mean she had to flaunt her dirty deeds in her father’s face.

Murdoch watched her with heated eyes. At the last, he tugged at the neckline of her shirt, groaning appreciatively at the view down her top before he used it to pull her in for a hot, wet kiss.

“Want to come in and say hi?” she asked dreamily as she straightened herself up as best she could. “No?”

Murdoch gave her the rogue grin and it was all she could do to make herself get out of the car.

Once outside, she crossed her arms and huddled against the fresh drizzle in the air. She heard Murdoch open his door. “No, stay. It’s beginning to rain.”

He closed his door when she began to walk away.

“You need a lift in the morning?” He called through the open car window.

“What time are you starting?” she asked, walking backwards.

“Five, five-thirty.”

“Then not on your sweet life.”

She caught the flash of a smile in the moonlight. Wondered if anyone in the history of the world had ever felt so fabulous.

She turned, waved over her shoulder, and jogged up the steps. His engine didn’t lift until she was safe inside the house, having flicked the front porch lights on and off.

Humming under her breath she tossed her house keys onto the hall table, not bothering to pick them up when they slid to the floor. Tidying was a morning job. Right now, she was high on life.

She had a quick look in the mirror to make sure she didn’t look completely ravaged, then waved jauntily at St. Jude and headed on down the hall.

Her dad was usually up watching (as in sleeping in his recliner in front of) home renovation shows, so she slowed, quieted as she past. But while the TV flickered gently the room was cold and empty.

The sound of him singing—Elvis, of course—and his electric razor whirring to life took her to his bedroom where light poured out from under his en suite door.

She made to sneak off to her room where she planned to lie on her bed, stare up at the ceiling and relive the past couple of hours, when she noticed that the picture of her mother that her dad had always kept on his bedside table was gone.

She tried telling herself he’d moved it. Or perhaps it had broken and he was getting a new frame. But something in the way he’d put his tablet right in its place told her it had been a deliberate act.

One song finished, the next began. She recognised “I’ve Got a Woman”.

Sera moved past his bed and knocked on the en suite door.

“Piccola?”

Sera opened to find her father smiling into the mirror as he shaved. His hair was styled. And he wore the only suit he owned.

“Papa?”

“Serafina, my sweet!”

“Who died?” she asked, meaning it.

“Nobody I know.” Then he followed her eye line. “You mean the get up? I’m heading out.”

Out. At night. Trying to piece the puzzle together, she shuffled around in front of him and fixed the knot on his tie. “Well, you look very sharp.”

“I’m glad you think so. And I hope Carolina thinks so, too.”

Sera’s pause on her dad’s tie was infinitesimal. Her struggle to swallow not so much. “Carolina?”

“Your boss called after I got home, asking if I’d care to meet a friend of hers for lunch. A real estate agent of all things. I was hungry. I went. Turns out Carolina has been having problems with her ’72 Camaro. And considering we’ve been having house problems, it turned out to be in the stars.”

“House problems?” Sera parroted back, though it was one of a trillion questions she could have asked.

He smiled. Looked at her carefully. Then took a deep breath. “I think the time has come to put this old place on the market.”

Sera felt the blood leech out of her face and sink into her toes.

Her father took her by the hands and led her to his bed. He pressed her to sit. “I can’t keep up with the garden anymore. We don’t need all these bedrooms. I don’t like paying a company to keep my home clean—”

“But we did that because of your wrist. And I can help out more. Look, I haven’t said anything because I didn’t want to worry you, but I know about the new mortgage. I can get a second job. And – and I know you won’t want to hear this – but I can sell my car.”

“I am well aware of how much money is owed. I’m the one who owes it.” He sat down beside her, took her hands, and smiled. “I have been thinking about selling for some time, I just had to find a time to tell you. But you’ve been so busy of late, and excited about your new job, and I didn’t want to spoil that. And then when I saw you at your new work today, it all came together. The reason you got this new job, it was to take care of me.”

Sera swallowed. And nodded. “I was happy to do so, Papa.”

He drew her head to his shoulder and patted her. “I know, piccola. But I don’t need taking care of. I am fine. And when the house is sold, I will be even better. It was the home I bought for you to grow up in. And as far as I can see, you’re all done. I’m meeting with Carolina tonight in order to sign the papers and it will be on the market next weekend.”

Carolina, she thought, breathing in her father’s aftershave. “What about Ramsay Street – the cafes and pasta shops? The pizza oven.”

Her father gave her one last pat then stood, looking into the mirror to make sure he looked as fine as could be. “There are other cafes, piccola. In fact, I’m seriously thinking of moving somewhere with a cafe culture. And a beach. Coogee perhaps. Or Bondi.”

Sera’s face dropped into her palms as she imagined her father in his khakis and Brylcreem amongst the tattoo and bikini set.

“What about your workshop?” she asked, her voice muffled by her hands.

“I think we both know that it’s time for me to retire.”

She pulled herself upright. “But you were so excited by Murdoch’s Chevy.”

Murdoch. Just the thought of his name sent a warm thrill down her spine. But no. She couldn’t think about him. Not when the rest of her life was coming undone.

“I saw it in your eyes.”

“I will never stop loving cars. Tinkering when I get the chance. But my working life is done.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, holding back tears. The best memories of her childhood were the times she’d sat behind the wheel of a car while he tinkered beneath the hood.

“More than sure.”

She nodded. Not really able to speak.

“There will be a room in my new place for you, of course. Or if you decide this is your chance to find a place of your own, then I will understand. The future is bright, piccola. It’s right there for the taking. In fact, that’s the motto on Carolina’s business card.”

“Carolina, hey?”

“You’d like her.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had a crush on this woman.”

Her father smiled. No, he beamed. And her mother’s picture no longer residing on his bedside table suddenly made all the sense in the world.

“And Hazel introduced you?”

At that her father grinned. “She’s a smart woman. No wonder she snapped you up.”

Sera pushed herself off her father’s bed and bent down to kiss him on the cheek. She let her own cheek rest against his a moment before she dragged her feet to the door. “You have a wonderful night, Papa.”

“I’m sure I will.”

All askew, Sera somehow made it to her bedroom. Fully dressed, she fell back on top of her bed, the pink rosettes in the ancient eiderdown digging into the backs of her legs.

Her gaze snagged on the striped pink wallpaper her dad had put up for her thirteenth birthday. The mirror with concert tickets, and favourite photos, and a yellowed letter she’d written to the producers of the Dukes of Hazard asking if she could visit the set, before someone had told her she was decades too late.

Since the day her mother had left, nothing much had changed in her life; her home, her dad’s support, even his clothes hadn’t changed in twenty years.

Now everything was changing.

And while, at first, it had been kind of exhilarating, like an adventure away from the every day, she wondered how many things had to change before there was nothing recognisable left.

Sera’s eyes felt like they were about to fall out of her head by the time she got to work the next day. She’d slept badly. Woken early. And snuck before her father even awoke.

First time she’d ever done that, even when she was a teenager. She couldn’t face talking about selling, or retirement, or asking how his date had gone the night before.

She was sitting at her desk staring into space when Murdoch poked his head in her doorless doorway and gave her a smile. Today’s beanie was green. Today’s Henley was black. And his jeans didn’t do justice to what he had going on behind them.

Finally, she thought, looking to him as a sailor might look to an anchor. Something solid. Something real.

Before he even got out a, “Good morning,” she was out of her chair, hands in his hair, mouth on his, dragging him into her office.

After a moment’s hesitation – one that she stubbornly ignored – he wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her till she saw stars.

A few beats later he pulled away. His mouth was smiling but his eyes were concerned. Then he placed a last tender kiss on the tip of her nose before unhooking her arms from around his neck and putting space between them, ostensibly to shove his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he sat on the back of the couch.

Sera didn’t have to have ‘the sight’ to know that something was wrong.

She didn’t want to ask – boy, did she not – but what choice did she have? “Did I do something wrong?”

He shook his head, then frowned at his shoes. When he looked back at her his eyes were soft, warm. So beautiful and so serious. “I can safely say I’d happily start every day that way.”

Sera’s heart leapt.

“Only not here.”

Her heart sank. “Why not here?”

“Sera,” he said, his voice a rumble. “I made myself pretty clear about that.”

She moved in, yanked his hands from his pockets and held them. “But Hazel will think this is a riot.”

She tugged on his hand, and he tugged back.

“Not yet,” he said.

He let her go to run a hand up the back of his neck. And Sera felt as if a sinkhole had opened up beneath her feet. She let him go. Nearly tripped she backed away so fast. Held up her hands in surrender.

“Sera.”

“Don’t say it. Please. I can’t... Not today.”

He shook his head. “Nothing’s changed. Hell, it has to be pretty obvious how much I want you. But like I said last night; we have to give it some time.”

She’d realised last night that she was in love with him. She’d have happily shouted it from the rooftops. Yet he was holding back. Because he wanted her, only not enough.

And suddenly Sera was smack bang in the middle of her worst nightmare.

She pictured how this would go. She’d keep falling, harder and deeper. Good guy that he was, he’d do the right thing; he’d try. Then one day he’d wake up, unable to do it anymore, and admit that he’d already given as much as he was able.

He might not disappear in the middle of the night leaving behind nothing but a torn off note. But he would walk away.

Emotion swarmed over her until she felt like she’d been dunked by a rogue wave. She struggled for breath. Struggled to find the horizon.

She had to stop this, save herself, before she made the biggest mistake of her life. She forced herself to look into his eyes as she said, “I don’t think we should do this.”

A knot tugged in her belly when his smile eased away, replaced by a frown.

“By this, you mean...”

“This,” she said, noting how their chests lifted and fell in tandem. “For all the reasons you stated from the beginning. We work together. Hazel has pushed us together. So I think it’s better if we put an end to it now, before anyone gets in too deep.”

“Better for who?” he asked, his voice dipping dangerously low. “You’ve spent the past few weeks chasing me. Now you’ve got me...”

She shook her head. “I don’t have you, Murdoch. I have a crush, and I... I took it too far. Suddenly it’s getting serious. At least it is for me.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I want you, Sera. More than I can rightly say.”

He sounded like he meant it. And it felt so good it burned. She burned. Taking even the smallest amount of affection and spinning it out into everything.

But she couldn’t hang her heart on a maybe. She couldn’t bear to give it time.

She wished her mother were there right then so she could say to her, You did this. You made believing in this impossible for me. But that would never happen.

There was only one way out; honesty, as sharp as a fresh cut blade.

“You might want me, Murdoch, but I’m in love with you.”

She knew he’d baulk. What big, tough, wounded man wouldn’t? She braced herself for the impact. He didn’t disappoint. His jaw clenched, the warmth in his eyes went AWOL. And when his hand lifted to rub up the back of her neck, he might as well have stuck a knife through her heart.

“It’s clear that you don’t feel the same way,” she said, her voice echoing inside of her head. “In fact, with all the prescripts you have in place, I’m not sure that you can. I shouldn’t have pushed. This was all my fault. I’m so sorry.”

Then, anchor cut free, she was the one to walk away.

The world around her grey, tunnel-visioned, Sera practically ran into the kitchen.

She breathed in through a small gap between her lips then let the air out long and slow. She opened the cupboard out of habit, saw her tea cup sitting next to Murdoch’s mug and slammed the door shut.

What had she done?

Made the smart move, a small voice piped up in the back of her head.

She knew, with a flash of nausea, that the voice was her mother’s. And that the voice was right. Cool headedness in a time of great upheaval wasn’t a bad thing to have inherited. As methods of self-protection went, it was a goodie.

Sometimes it was okay to cut your losses...

Murdoch wasn’t on the same page. Meaning chances were, he never would be. She was saving herself from all kinds of heartache by putting an end to things now.

And move on...

Move on. Where to?

A new job? She’d proven she could do that.

A new home? So long as she had her dad, she’d survive that, too.

A new love...?

She scrubbed her hands over her face in an effort to feel something, anything other than the devastating pain behind her ribs.

Once she was hopeful that the coast would be clear, she headed back to her office, hoping she could lose herself in her work.

New pictures lined the freshly-completed walls – famous lovers kissing and clutching at one another. Sera looked determinedly at her shoes.

She came to a halt when she found Hazel arranging new white cushions on the white couch.

“Your father rang,” Hazel said.

Sera felt a twitch forming under her right eye.

“Warned me you might have the devil at your heels this morning.”

Sera moved past her boss and sank heavily into her big hard chair. “Nope. No devil. I’m great.”

“Really? It didn’t bother you than I gave your father the Cinderella Project treatment?”

If Sera thought she’d never stop getting a kick out of that name, turned out she was wrong.

She wiggled a finger over her trackpad, booting up her MacBook. “He’s a grown man. He can have lunch...and dinner...with whomever he pleases.”

“Carolina,” Hazel injected smoothly. “An MBA. Top of her field. Widowed for a decade. Amazing cook. And a friend of mine for a number of years. She is wonderful. And I would never, ever, have introduced her to a man I didn’t think would be good for her. And vice versa.”

“If you say so.”

“You don’t seem convinced.”

“Really?” Okay, so maybe the devil had ridden in the cab with her that morning.

Hazel, on the other hand, looked preternaturally calm. “What is it you think we are doing here, Serafina?”

“Messing with people’s hearts,” she said before she even felt the words coming.

And even as heat crept into her cheeks, and she no doubt looked as mortified as she felt, there was no taking it back.

“I see.” Hazel sat carefully on the edge of the white couch.

This was not how this morning was meant to go. But she felt so scattered she couldn’t help but bury everyone in her wake. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Yes, you did,” Hazel said, wiping away an infinitesimal speck from the back of the couch. “And you were right. Sometimes people’s hearts need a little messing with, don’t you think?”

Sera leaned forward, sank her face into her hands. “Not me. Mine’s already a mess.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think your heart is pretty special.”

Hazel left on that note.

And after too many moments spent staring at the palms of her hands, Sera forced herself to get back to work, which was all she ought to have done from the moment she’d set foot in the place.

Murdoch drove, and drove, and drove. With no destination in mind, he just knew he had to go.

What the hell had happened back there? One minute Sera was kissing him, driving him beyond the edge of reason as usual. And he was tugging her back to earth. As usual.

You’ve been keeping her at arm’s length since you met her, a voice practically yelled inside of his head. What did you think would happen? Well, you finally got what you wanted.

He sniffed in a quick breath. Caught her scent. He breathed deeper to find his whole truck smelled like her.

He opened the window, letting the odours of Sydney whip the reminder of her away.

Then, at the last second, he closed the window. Breathed. Caught the slightest fragment of her scent, like a memory. And breathed out with relief.

Relief was crazy. Nonsensical. Considering she’d told him they were over.

Over.

He couldn’t believe it.

It made no sense. Especially considering in the middle of the storm she’d said she’d loved him. Loved him. First time a woman had told him so and he’d believed it.

He’d believed it...and gone catatonic. Because in her arms the night before, and at odd times in the days before, and in more moments than he could recount, he’d thought... He’d felt... More. More than he’d ever felt before.

And every time he’d told himself not to get ahead of himself. It was such early days. Hell, he’d dated women longer before knowing their middle names. Yet he knew more about Sera than he knew about anyone.

He knew how much she adored her father and was affected more than she’d let on by her mother’s desertion. He knew she loved getting her hands dirty as much as she loved making glittery pictures on her computer.

He knew she was generous and kind. The way she was with Hazel made him feel like he wasn’t the only one on the planet who saw beneath the bombastic outer to the goodness beneath.

He knew that she was hot as the surface of the sun. The way she gave herself to pleasure, to him, he knew he’d never get enough of it. Not if he spent a lifetime trying.

And there had been times, more frequent as the weeks went on, when he’d wondered if that was what it might take. A lifetime.

But he’d gone rigid with the awe at what a lifetime of feeling that way about someone meant. And she’d – rightly, smartly – walked away.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

With a quick glance over his shoulder, he cut through traffic and pulled the Ute over, getting a well-deserved honk for his efforts.

He yanked the key so hard the car shuddered to a halt.

He ran a hand up the back of his head. Then banged the steering wheel for good measure.

At a true crossroads for the first time in years, he knew he had to go internal. He had to simplify. Figure out what was important.

What did he want? What was he willing to sacrifice to get it?

He wanted Sera in his life. Every day for the rest of his life.

What they had was like nothing he’d ever known. She saw him, she extended him, she elevated him. But she’d finally hit breaking point, because he’d driven her there. Tugging her back down to earth...

He’d blown it. Somehow, while he’d been trying to so hard to do the right thing, by everyone, he’d messed everything up wholesale.

“No,” he said out loud. Because he’d never given up. Not on a friend, a family member, a gig. And he wasn’t about to give up on the best thing that had ever happened to him.

This thing wasn’t over until they both said so.

He looked out the window to get some idea where he was. When he next had the chance, he pulled back out into traffic.

This time, he knew where he was heading. He knew what he had to do.

He just had to put in the time.