CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Tanner
‘I DON’T BELIEVE THIS.’ I glared at the sign hanging in the window of my favourite Thai restaurant, announcing they were closed for renovations. ‘I didn’t even think to book because it’s one of those walk-in places that rarely requires a reservation.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ Abby laid a hand on my arm. ‘We can eat anywhere.’
True, but I’d wanted to show her a place that meant something to me, to see how she acted in the surroundings. Not a test, as such, just a way of convincing myself that while we connected physically we could never be anything long term.
Looked like the cosmos had punished me for being underhanded and I’d have to resort to Plan B. If I had one.
‘Honestly, I’m not fussed where we eat.’ She patted my forearm and removed her hand. ‘It’s been a long day, so I’d be happy with fast food and an early night.’
‘You just want to get me naked as soon as humanly possible,’ I said, grinning when she blushed. ‘You’re so predictable.’
‘Am not,’ she said, with a defiant tilt of her head. Her nonchalant act would’ve worked too, if I hadn’t glimpsed the naughty gleam in her eyes. ‘I am hungry, but if you want to grab something and head back to my place...’
Best invitation I’d heard all day but this date was about proving a point and that was exactly what I’d do. Our strong sexual connection wasn’t conducive to showing her how different we were outside the bedroom and how we could never be anything more than bonking buddies.
‘How about fish and chips on Manly beach?’
If my subtle change of subject surprised her, she didn’t show it. Instead, she nodded. ‘It’s a long way from the Cross to Manly by car.’
‘We’ll take the ferry.’
Her eyes lit up. ‘Would you believe I’ve lived in Sydney my whole life and never been on the Manly ferry?’
‘Never?’
She glanced away, her shoulders slumping a little. ‘I got chauffeured everywhere. By Dad, our chauffeur and later Bardley’s driver.’
‘Bardley. I still think it’s such a bullshit name,’ I snarled, hating the stab of jealousy at her casual use of her ex’s name.
‘Totally.’ She laughed and slipped her hand into mine. ‘I’ve never eaten fish and chips on the beach either, so I’m in.’
Wouldn’t her family have a fit if they knew their little princess was being taken on a no-frills date involving simple food and a ferry? It made me wonder, did she miss her old life at all?
She might hate her ex but it had to be tough living a life of luxury, then leaving it all behind. Considering how hard we’d worked today filling that urgent order, she must do that all the time with Remy. Throw in the small apartment, and it had to be a big comedown from her previous life. I admired her all the more.
‘Do you miss your old life?’
She stiffened as we strolled back to the car. ‘Where did that come from?’
‘Curiosity.’ I opened the car door for her and waited until she sat before closing it and getting in the driver side. ‘Bit of a comedown, switching from chauffeurs to ferries.’
She took an eternity to answer, as if formulating an acceptable answer. ‘I miss my family. And some of my friends. But that lifestyle was never important to me.’
That was where we differed. Every luxury I could afford now was testament to how far I’d come. How far I’d proved Father wrong.
Not that I took my wealth for granted or flaunted it, but I revelled in my hard-earned success. And thanked the old bastard every day for spurring me on to become the man he never thought I could be.
‘So you’re not in touch with anyone from your old life?’
We stopped at a traffic light and I shot her a glance. Her lips were compressed and her arms folded, protecting herself from...what? Memories? Sadness? Me?
‘No.’
A short, sharp response that clearly meant she didn’t want to talk, so I remained silent until we reached Circular Quay, bought tickets and boarded the ferry.
But I couldn’t let it go. Gaining an insight into her past would make it easier for me when this thing between us ended. I liked Abby. I didn’t want to hurt her. Knowing what made her tick beyond the superficial would ensure I could let her down gently. ‘Have you ever thought about getting in touch with your family?’
I expected her to shoot me down again with a death glare. Instead, she stared at the Opera House, lost in thought.
‘Yeah, I think about getting in touch with Mum. I miss her.’ She dragged her gaze away from the white sails and focussed on me. ‘You’ll think I’m an idiot, but I even drove past a day spa we used to go to together the other day, hoping for a glimpse of her.’
‘You miss her. That’s not stupid.’ I slung an arm over her shoulder and cradled her close. ‘I miss Remy when I’m overseas. It’s normal. Family has a way of getting under our skin.’
Though not always in a good way. Dad had been testament to that.
‘I can’t believe she hasn’t reached out after a year, you know?’ She rested a hand on my thigh, a comfortable, intimate gesture that secretly thrilled me.
She trusted me. Trusted me enough to talk about her past. But was I worthy of that trust?
‘A whole year without so much as a phone call.’ She shook her head. ‘What kind of a mother does that?’
I didn’t have a clue, considering I had nothing but good memories of mine and our happy times in the kitchen. But I had to offer some comfort, otherwise this date was heading south fast.
‘I’m guessing your father rules the roost, so maybe she’s doing the best she can, trying to keep the peace in her marriage and not piss him off?’
Respect shimmered in her eyes as she gazed up at me from beneath long lashes. ‘Dad is the boss and what he says goes, but she wouldn’t have to tell him.’
‘If she’s anything like you, I can’t see her sneaking behind his back. You’re far too principled for that and she probably is too.’
‘Stop sounding so logical,’ she said, her admonishment tempered with a smile. ‘Anyway, enough of my depressing family.’ Her smile faded and she squirmed a little, appearing uncomfortable. ‘I don’t know much about your family beyond the fact your parents died when you were young.’
I stiffened, my thigh flexing involuntarily beneath her palm, and she stroked my leg, offering comfort. If she only knew...it would take a lifetime of placating to ease the pain any thought of my parents elicited.
‘Is that all Remy told you?’
She nodded. ‘Said your mum died when he was fifteen, your dad when he was twenty.’ Pity darkened her eyes. ‘That means you would’ve been ten when you lost your mum...must’ve been tough.’
‘You have no idea.’
Mum had been my champion, my rock, my buffer. She kept Dad away from me, sensing his hatred even though he never did anything overt towards me in front of her.
And I blamed the old prick every day for ultimately driving her to her death. Because of me.
‘Tell me about her.’ Abby spoke softly, her tone laced with gentle persuasion, like discovering more about my family background would somehow give her a handle on me.
Yeah, like that would happen.
But I’d prompted her to discuss her family—the least I could do was give her a snapshot of mine.
‘Dad didn’t have much time for me, so Mum and I were close. She taught me how to cook. How to choose a good mango. How to core apples for a classic turnover until my fingers ached...’ Bittersweet happiness filled me at the memories. ‘She was French. Very elegant. Very classy. Wore make-up and perfume every day, even when dropping me off at kinder. Everyone idolised her.’
Except Dad. I’d never known the real reason their marriage soured until I’d heard the hurtful accusations he’d flung at her the day she’d died. But he’d definitely been in the minority, because everyone loved Mum.
‘She sounds wonderful,’ Abby offered with a smile. ‘Was that why you looked a little freaked out when you helped fill that massive order? Did being in the kitchen again dredge up memories of her for you?’
Surprised by her insight, I nodded. ‘She was wonderful. And every time I set foot in a kitchen, even at home, I feel it right here.’ I thumped a fist over my heart, wishing the simple action could dislodge the permanent ache there whenever I thought of Mum and how much I missed her.
Before I could think up something to change the subject, Abby continued. ‘What about your dad?’
‘He was a prick.’ The words tumbled from my lips before I could stop them and if she heard the venom behind them, she didn’t say.
Her hand resumed stroking my thigh. ‘How so?’
‘He hated my guts.’
Her lips parted in surprise. ‘But you were a child. How could a father hate his own child?’
I couldn’t tell her the truth. Not when I’d never told anyone, including Remy. So I settled for a watered-down version.
‘Their marriage hit a rocky patch. I was the spitting image of Mum. Guess that made me dislikeable.’
Her nose wrinkled in distaste. ‘I’m not in the habit of slandering people I’ve never met but your dad sounds like a real piece of work.’
‘Understatement of the year,’ I muttered, annoyed that her quick defence meant so much.
This date had been about proving our differences, not growing closer because of shared confidences. I needed to get back on track, fast.
‘Anyway, Remy is the only family I have and he more than makes up for the past.’
I could see the turmoil in her eyes, like she wanted to prod further. Instead, she said, ‘Tell me how many women you’ve taken on ferry dates before.’
Surprised and pleased at her change of subject, I grinned. ‘As of today, only one.’
She made a cute scoffing sound.
‘You don’t believe me?’
‘I believe you’ve been a bad boy since you hit your teens and I imagine you’ve had a string of girlfriends.’ She poked me in the chest. ‘So don’t try to deny it.’
‘I’m not denying anything.’ I held up my hands, like I had nothing to hide. ‘I just haven’t taken any of them on a ferry.’
‘Lucky me,’ she said, batting her eyelashes with exaggerated coquettishness.
‘I’m the lucky one,’ I murmured, wondering what she’d do if she could see half the thoughts whirling through my head. ‘I know what this fling is about for you. A way to move forward. A way to ditch your past once and for all.’
I squeezed her shoulders. ‘I’m lucky you picked me to do it.’
An odd expression flitted across her face. Regret? Anger? Hope? But it disappeared faster than I could analyse it.
She snuggled into me as the ferry chugged its way across the water. We made desultory small talk, about the Harbour Bridge, Luna Park and the mega cruise ships sailing through the Heads. Nonsensical stuff that I didn’t give a crap about, but safe conversation. Safe from the possibility of emotions or feelings or deeper truths.
Like how much I wanted her to enjoy this simple date and possibly see the real me. The me beneath the tattoos and smart-ass attitude. The me who could fall for a girl like her given half a chance.
But there was a world of difference between us and if there was one thing I’d learned from Father, it was that I couldn’t be a relationship kind of guy.
I couldn’t be selfless, not after spending too many years feeling worthless. When he’d died, I’d vowed to use every ounce of bitterness and resentment and hurt to concentrate on being a guy worthy of success. A guy worthy of recognition. A guy worthy of every good thing in life.
Being involved with a woman like Abby would ensure I wouldn’t be number one any more. I wouldn’t only care about myself and not give a damn about her. I’d need to let her in, let her see the deepest part of me where a smidgeon of that scared, worthless kid still resided.
I wasn’t prepared to do that.
‘We’re here,’ I said unnecessarily, as the ferry docked and passengers started disembarking.
‘Good, I’m starving.’
She held my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world as we placed our order at the outdoor fish ’n’ chip pop-up café, squeezing it when we confessed a mutual hankering for grilled barramundi and extra chicken salt on our chips.
If only it were that simple, that similar taste in food could be the foundation of something more permanent between us.
Because that was the kicker amid all my ruminations. While I didn’t want a full-blown relationship that required giving too much of my private self, I wouldn’t mind continuing our arrangement for however long I was in Sydney.
But Abby had clearly stipulated a short-term fling at the start. Besides, she deserved more. I’d seen the way she’d started looking at me, and while I liked it I couldn’t shake the feeling that Abby developing real feelings for me would only end in heartache.
I carried the paper-wrapped parcel as we strolled towards the beach, in time to watch the sun dip behind the horizon in a blaze of mauve and indigo.
‘Wow,’ she said, slipping her hand out of mine to bound to the sand. ‘I know you’re a master of many talents, but organising a sunset like that is too much even for you.’
‘Anything for you,’ I murmured under my breath, grateful she couldn’t hear me.
Sure, I’d wanted her to enjoy this date, to see the simple pleasures I liked, but I’d also wanted to prove a point to myself. That we were nothing alike and she’d probably prefer a Michelin-starred dining experience to this.
But seeing her obvious joy when she unwrapped the paper, snagged a piece of fish in one hand and stuffed hot, salty chips into her mouth with the other made me want her more.
‘This is divine,’ she mumbled, her mouth half-full, and I laughed. The kind of laugh I hadn’t done in a long time. A laugh filled with genuine happiness of being in this moment with this woman.
‘What’s so funny?’ She wiped her mouth with a tissue she’d fished from her handbag. ‘Let me guess, I’m not like your previous stick-insect model girlfriends who only ate salad.’
‘A fact I’m eternally grateful for.’ I offered her more chips, pleased when she took another handful. ‘What’s with you and my old girlfriends? Jealous?’
‘Pfft.’ She crammed the chips into her mouth to refrain from answering and I grinned.
‘It’s okay to like me, you know. Thousands have in the past.’
Her eyebrows shot heavenward. ‘Thousands? Eww, that’s just nasty.’
I laughed, enjoying the banter we traded. ‘Well, I may be exaggerating a little.’
‘Phew.’ She swiped at her brow. ‘I can deal with hundreds. Thousands? Not so much.’
‘Interesting that you see me as some shallow playboy.’ I leaned my hands back, propped on outstretched arms on the sand. ‘Truth is, I’m not a relationship kind of guy, but that doesn’t mean I sleep with every woman that walks.’
‘Just the ones that drop their panties at your feet,’ she deadpanned, her eyes alight with mischief.
I loved seeing her like this: playful and lighthearted.
‘The only panties I’m interested in dropping these days are yours.’ I deliberately stared at her breasts before sweeping lower to linger where those sensible cotton panties would be.
‘Stop that,’ she hissed, wriggling on the sand a little.
‘Why, am I making you horny?’
Her gaze flew to mine, her lips parted in shock.
‘It’s okay to admit it, you know.’ I crooked a finger at her. ‘I’ll let you in on a secret. I’m half-hard every time I’m around you, and most times when I’m not, just thinking about you.’
‘Oh,’ she said, so softly I barely heard it as her gaze dropped to my groin.
Predictably, I stiffened, my hard-on straining against the fly of my jeans. Damn, I should never have started this game.
‘Told you we should’ve grabbed takeout and gone back to my place.’ She almost purred, her tone soft and seductive. ‘Now we have a long ride back on the water.’
‘Fuck that ferry,’ I muttered, not pleased that our sweet date had morphed to sexy in an instant, even less pleased that I had to be in blue balls hell for an entire ferry ride back to the city.
‘It’ll be much more pleasurable to f-fuck me,’ she said, turning crimson at saying the F word.
‘Stop,’ I groaned. ‘Why do you choose now to start talking dirty?’
She leapt to her feet and dusted sand off her butt, her grin smug. ‘Maybe we should grab a taxi rather than wait for the ferry?’
‘Maybe you’re right,’ I said, bundling up our rubbish and stuffing it in the trash on our way back to the road. ‘Better buckle up, babe, because I’m going to tell the driver to break the land speed record.’
A coy smile played about her mouth as she stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to my lips. ‘Thanks for dinner. It was the best date I’ve ever had.’
Speechless, I flagged down a taxi and bundled her in, almost tumbling in after her in my haste to get her alone. Where I could show her with actions rather than words exactly how much I’d enjoyed our date too.