CHAPTER TEN
Light teased Paris’s eyelids, warming her, while the tantalising smell of cooked bacon teased her awake. She opened her eyes to the lace-covered window brimming with sunlight. For those few moments, she didn’t move but lay huddled under the covers, staring at the blue sky and the promise of a new day. Maybe this was what she needed all along, to realise she approached the whole life thing wrong. For the first time in too long, she no longer dreaded returning home to face the questions or worry about avoiding Jett. Their night had been incredible, magical, explosive. God, no other man made her feel so complete.
“Hey.” She rolled onto her back toward him, only to find the other side of the bed empty. Climbing out from the tangled sheets, she found her clothes strewn on the floor, but his had vanished. Heaviness settled in her gut, the kind that niggled with doubt. But she refused to buy into the paranoia. Not again. That was what got her in trouble in the first place when she chased after him to Melbourne and jumped to conclusions. Nope, he had to be outside with Mac, helping with the goat shed.
Dressed in seconds, she stopped at the mirror and patted her hair down. When she reached the kitchen, Paris salivated at the aroma of ham. Christine was cooking up a storm, but Paris eyed the pile of bacon on the table and stole a piece, stuffing it into her mouth. The crunchiness and saltiness were a perfect balance, and if challenged, she’d eat the entire plate.
“Merry Christmas,” she said to Christine. “Looks like the rain has passed.”
Christine turned around with a smile on her face. “Oh, yes. I love this time of the year, but it’s not the same without the kids. They’re coming over later for a big lunch. You’re welcome to join us.”
Paris leaned over the counter as Christine collected a tray of cookies from the oven, the wafting scent of spices and sugar filling the room. Paris got a sudden urge to return to her parents’ home to help them bake and prepare for the festivities, open presents, and eat too much. She had to get home.
Mac walked into the house. “I can smell those gingerbreads in the garden. You’ll have the neighbours knocking on our door.” He broke into laughter, wiped his hands down his chequered shirt, and grabbed a bacon strip.
Paris glanced behind him and outside, expecting Jett to join them any second. When he didn’t appear, she turned to Mac. “Is Jett out back?”
Mac shook his head. “He headed out early this morning. Something about helping a friend nearby, but he’ll be back.”
Part of her wished he would have woken her up so she could help him, but she also appreciated him letting her sleep.
Two hours later, Paris had polished off half a dozen bacon strips and three gingerbread men with still no sign of Jett. She had called him twice on Mac’s phone and gotten no response. She figured he’d turn up, yet her stomach still churned with unease, the kind that put terrible thoughts into her head. Had he panicked after last night and decided not to return? She cringed, but refused to let herself go there. The new Jett had a son, responsibility, and maturity.
She had options, like borrowing a car or calling someone in Yalgoo to pick her up, but she worried that something horrible happened to Jett. Was he in an accident or bogged in flood waters? She paced to the door and back, rubbing her arms.
“Come, I’ll make you a cuppa too,” Mac said.
Christine fluttered around with basting the huge turkey in the oven, and Paris felt like an intruder when she ought to be with her parents.
Closer to midday, the front door opened. Paris’s heart leaped in her chest as she stood with anticipation. What had taken Jett so long? But when a young girl and child stepped around the corner, her heart shattered to glass. Mac and his wife rushed to the newcomers and hugged them, Mac spinning the small kid in his arms. She recognised them from the photos in the house. They were the kids coming home for Christmas.
Paris couldn’t wait a second longer. She pulled Mac aside by an elbow. “I think it’s time for me to go. Thank you so much for being the most amazing hosts. But I’m calling my uncle to come and collect me.” She twisted her hands together, trying to restrain the dread claiming her, the terror of Jett’s possible injury, and the anger that he’d left her and hadn’t even bothered contacting her back. The mixed emotions bubbled in her chest, leaving her tight. Deep breaths were impossible, and holding onto her composure for a few more moments seemed an impossibility.
Mac placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing, his eyes soft and reminding Paris of her dad. Mac studying her made her want to burst into tears, as if he understood the agony inside her.
“Take my spare car. I have the ute if I need to go somewhere. Just return her after Christmas. How does that sound?”
And this was what she missed about the smaller outback towns, the community help and trust. She’d never get this in the city. She hugged Mac tight. “That means so much.”
They broke their hug. “Arrive home safe as there might be flooding. This time should be about spending it with family.” He glanced over his shoulder at his daughter.
“Thanks. I’ll pack but leave you with my parents’ contact details.” She hurried out of the room, leaving behind the laughter of family.
***
The sedan rattled beneath Paris as she cruised down the watery freeway, the warm air rushing through the open window, pulling at her hair and drying the tears. Her insides resembled a heap of tangled emotions. After leaving Mac’s, she did a run through the local town and even chatted with a few people. Only one person said she spotted a ute with a trailer heading out at about six in the morning, but that was it. And while part of Paris pondered searching for Jett, she had zero idea where to begin. Maybe he’d headed home in a rush? Was he hurt? There was no way for her to know, so she stuck to her plan to head to Yalgoo and prayed she’d find Jett there.
Wiping her eyes, she glided along the freeway, though the car refused to go beyond eighty kilometres per hour, so this would be a long drive. But at least she was in control of her destiny. And once she knew Jett was safe, she was drinking the strongest alcohol she could find.
Half an hour later, someone honking from far behind snagged her attention. She peered in the mirror to find a ute racing up closer… Jett. Mac must have told him she left, which meant he’d been speeding. Her heart scaled to the back of her throat. Without hesitation, she slowed and edged off the road, her pulse at high speed.
She got out and rushed toward his ute as he parked behind her. Once Jett was outside, she noticed he looked unharmed with no cuts or bruises, just mud splattered his jeans. The ute wasn’t banged up either.
“Are you okay? Where have you been?” Her words squished together without a pause of breath.
“I’m fine. Where are you going?” he asked, approaching her.
A surge of anger burned through her veins, and yet her eyes prickled from a cocktail of relief and fury. She smacked a hand into his arm. “You went missing for hours. I freaked out you had an accident. And how could you leave me there on Christmas day? Mac and Christine had their kids coming over, and I was the third wheel. What is wrong with you?” Most of what had dribbled out made no sense in her mind.
“I’m safe.” He reached over, but she drew away, trembling.
“Why didn’t you call me back? I pictured you dying from a collision.”
Jett’s shoulders sagged. “I told Mac I got a message this morning from a mate who was about an hour away, saying he got bogged. Figured I’d be quick, but the wheel of his van got wedged. There was no reception in the area.”
He took her hand, forcing her against him. “Look, sorry I worried you. But things like this happen. I’ve been looking after myself for the past five years, and I’m still alive.”
She glanced up at him, at his enchanted green eyes with a fleck of brown in them. Part of her wanted to drown in his arms, but his response bugged her. If he didn’t want her to worry about him, did that mean last night was only a fling for him, a reminiscence of what they used to have? Why had she allowed herself to believe it was anything else? He had made no kind of commitment to her.
“Well, that’s the problem. I care about you, and that was my biggest mistake. But it’s okay, I won’t do it again.” She retreated.
“Paris, you’re taking it the wrong way. Don’t let your paranoia mislead you again.”
His jab eradicated the earlier apology. If caring for him made her paranoid, well then, she was the queen of delusions.
“Fine. I see how it is.” She spun away.
“Paris, wait up!” He grabbed her wrist and drew her against him. “You’ve been back in my life for one day, and I can’t stop thinking about you every second of the day. Let’s not fight.”
“I don’t want you to judge me each time I fly off the handle or make a mistake. I know I just did that to you, and I’m sorry. Shit. There’s too much history between us. Maybe this is a mistake.” She freed herself from his hold, suddenly unable to get air into her lungs.
“We both need to get past what happened.” Shadows played beneath his gaze and softness swirled behind his eyes.
Her brain was still crowded with too many memories, the terror of getting hurt, and fear of losing her career. Nothing made sense in her mind, not her attraction for Jett, not the temptation to leave the city life for him, and not the ache in her chest of walking away from him to pursue her career. Every thought contradicted one another as they tumbled into a huge knot. She retreated, unsure how to even begin sorting out the mess. “I think I just need time.” Without another word, she hopped into Mac’s car and skidded onto the road.
“I did the right thing,” she whispered to herself, but then why did guilt slice through her? And sure, she might have overreacted, but that came from fear. And to hear his passive-aggressiveness told her exactly what he thought of her. She didn’t need this or being reminded of her mistakes each time they argued. So what was she supposed to do now? Her Christmas sucked balls already. Yep, the curse wasn’t releasing its hold.
“Just wonderful.” She whacked her palm on the steering wheel.
In the mirror, she spotted Jett driving up behind her and closing the distance fast. “Yep, coming home was definitely the easier option of dealing with my problems. Not!”
Her heart demanded she stop and patch things up with Jett. And then what? Play nice for a few days before she returned to Melbourne. He had friends, a kid, and the perfect situation. And he sure didn’t need a paranoid person in his life.
With her hand brushing her wet cheeks, she focused on the path ahead.