Patrick exchanged a quick, conspiratorial smile with Ceci as Thom hugged Tash goodbye. Thanks to his long chat with Ceci on Saturday morning Patrick knew exactly what he needed to do, and this week he planned to put it into action.
With everyone except Patrick sporting mild hangovers, and needing a morning of Tash’s good food and even better coffee to perk them up, it was mid-afternoon before Thom felt up to the drive back to Melbourne. At least the day was merely cloudy rather than rainy, and visibility wouldn’t be a problem. One less thing for Tash to fret about.
Patrick shook hands with Thom. He was comfortable enough with Tash these days not to be jealous of Thom, but that didn’t mean Patrick trusted him. And besides, Patrick wanted to be Tash’s best male friend. He also remembered too vividly how Thom had looked and acted when he’d spotted Patrick and Ceci hugging, and he was pretty frigging sure the little shit had tried to put ideas in Tash’s head about it too. Patrick had wanted to punch him for that. Hard. Looking at Thom now, he had the idea the feeling might be mutual.
After a seemingly never-ending hug, Tash finally let Ceci settle into the passenger seat. She shut the door and wound down the window, only for Tash to immediately lean inside. ‘Promise.’
‘Yes, yes. All right.’
‘Good.’ She stepped away, apparently satisfied, and looked at Thom, her expression softening. ‘Please drive carefully.’
‘Yes, Mum. I’ll shoot you some more mock-ups next week, okay? Then we’ll talk.’
‘Thanks. And don’t forget to send me an invoice. I mean it.’
But Thom merely grinned and gave a last salute before lowering himself into the car.
Tash walked to Patrick’s side. He draped an arm around her and tucked her close in an unmistakable show of unity. They both waved as Thom guided the car down the drive and stayed watching until he’d disappeared, tooting a merry tune on the horn, out of sight down Castlereagh Road.
Tash let out a long sigh. ‘I so hope they get themselves sorted.’
‘Up to Ceci, I guess.’ Patrick steered her towards the flat. ‘What did you want to do for the rest of the afternoon?’
‘I don’t know. What did you want to do?’
He slid her a wicked look.
Tash poked him. ‘I should have figured that.’
‘Nothing wrong with a bit of afternoon delight. Especially with you.’
‘Your dad is going to think I’m the worst influence.’
Patrick slid open the door for her, sneaking a caress of her bum as she passed through. Tash had a great bum. Tash had a great everything. ‘He doesn’t. He adores you. Mum does too. Everyone does.’
Tash turned to drape her arms around his neck. Her eyes were beginning to hood the way they did when her mind turned to sex. ‘Including you?’
He slid the door closed and locked it, then pressed Tash against the wall, his hands roving as he nuzzled the spots he’d discovered did magic things to her. ‘Me more than anyone.’
Patrick arrived home early Sunday evening to find his mum eating lasagne and salad in front of the telly with the sound turned right up. His dad was in town, helping a cousin with some chore, and she was indulging in her favourite reality TV talent show. Waving aside her offer to fetch him a plate of his own, Patrick whipped up a couple of toasties and joined her.
‘Nice to have your company,’ said Annette.
He grinned. ‘You’re welcome.’
‘I don’t know why you just don’t move in together.’
‘Maybe we will.’ He’d been thinking about it. A lot. The question was where. The Poppy Flat was tiny and also Tash’s place of business. There were cameras and tripods and computer gear always lying around, and though cosy, it wasn’t really the sort of place Patrick had in mind when it came to starting a life with her. Assuming Tash wanted it.
He hoped so. Christ, he hoped so.
‘That serious?’
Patrick shrugged. As far as he was concerned it was, and if all went to plan, by the end of the week he’d know exactly how serious it was for Tash too.
Annette patted his hand. ‘She’s a lovely girl. Your dad and I couldn’t be more delighted.’
After helping tidy up, Patrick retreated to his room and his laptop. To his annoyance the flights he wanted were booked up. He’d forgotten it was school holidays, with every man and his dog and kids desperate to escape the southern cold for the Queensland sun.
Patrick didn’t have the luxury of flexibility. He needed to get to Maddy, do what he had to do and get home to Tash before she realised he’d been anywhere. He ran through the available flights again—there was no way he’d manage the round trip in a day. His best option was an early-morning direct flight to Brisbane and a hire car for the trip up the coast, which, unless he left home at 2 am for the drive to Tullamarine, would require an overnight stay in Melbourne.
Patrick drummed his fingers. He could get away with one night, surely? Make up something about a footy meeting or catch-up with Clip.
He stared at the screen and the cursor hand hovering over the ‘Book Now’ button. Ceci had said it was for the best that Tash remained unaware of his visit to Maddy but it didn’t feel right. Love was based on honesty and trust, and going behind her back flew directly in the face of that. But Patrick also didn’t want to hurt her unnecessarily. It had only happened a few times, yet he couldn’t ignore Tash’s reaction whenever he accidentally mentioned Maddy. It wasn’t jealousy—at least he didn’t think so—more doubt, as if uttering her name was some sort of signal Patrick wasn’t over her.
He was. He’d been over Maddy and desperately in love with Tash for months, but the truth was he’d never ended the engagement. He’d never held Maddy’s hand and said the words, and if he was going to propose to Tash like he intended, it had to be done. Maddy deserved nothing less, and Patrick needed to be able to drive past Springbank without his heart being swamped with guilt. He’d deleted her text messages and not fallen apart. It was time to finish the job.
After a quick call to Ceci, Patrick booked the flights, then settled into a highly amusing and dirty-sexy conversation with Tash as Farmer Fred.
Two days later—on the road to Melbourne after football training and with too many boring hours in which to think—remorse led Patrick to a change of heart. Tash trusted him and lying was stupid and wrong and that wasn’t the man he was, or ever wanted to be.
He called her, only to go straight through to her message bank. Unusual, given the time of night. Tash typically only turned her phone off when she was filming, and even then she tended to switch it to silent, rather than off.
He smiled at the sound of her cheery voice, but hesitated when the beep signalled it was time to leave a message. He gripped the wheel tighter. He should have had the balls to do this directly, face her reaction head on. Now he was stuck leaving a message.
‘Tash, I’m sorry. I should have manned up and told you the truth in person. It was wrong of me not to. I’m not at Clip’s.’ He breathed in, his chest aching. ‘I’m on my way to see Maddy. There’s something I need to do …’