by Nicola Marsh
‘You’re more like your dad than you know,’ she said, reaching for the lowest blow in her arsenal to get him to stay. ‘You’re a quitter. How many times does this make that you’ve walked away from me when things get tough?’
He spun around so fast she stumbled back and would’ve fallen if he hadn’t steadied her. ‘I’m no fucking quitter.’
‘Prove it.’
She tilted her head up, daring him to follow her back inside.
‘Fuck,’ he muttered, releasing her so she could open the door wider.
‘After you,’ she said, with exaggerated sweetness as he barged past her.
As she closed the door and studied his rigid shoulders from behind, she realised she’d never met a more infuriating man—and that was one of the things she loved about him. He challenged her. He infuriated her. He confounded her. But she couldn’t let that derail her from what needed to be said.
He’d asked her to go away with him, to hit the road like some gypsy. And, while her heart longed to take the plunge and see what kind of an adventure that could bring, she couldn’t do it.
If it was in his DNA to run, it was in hers to prove her independence no matter what the cost.
‘Logan, look at me.’ She approached him carefully and held out her hand, as if confronting a wary dog.
This time, when he turned to face her, she saw his anger had given way to hurt. Bewilderment. As if he couldn’t fathom how she’d turn him down.
Damn it, she had to make him understand this had nothing to do with him and everything to do with her own insecurities.
‘I want you too.’ Her hand dropped to her side. ‘I’ve been miserable without you.’ She gave a self-deprecating snort. ‘Heck, I couldn’t even write a song without you around, that’s how crazy I am about you. But I can’t put all my faith in you and walk away from my dream, and that’s what you’re asking me to do.’
A spark of hope flared in his eyes. ‘But you can write songs anywhere. Play in pubs and clubs. Get your work out there first-hand—’
‘Stop.’ She shook her head, hating that he had this all figured out in his head and that she’d have to stomp on his dream in order to get hers. ‘This isn’t just about me. I want to foster talent, get unknown artists the recognition they deserve, and to do that I have to be here, in Melbourne, in my new studio. Surely you can understand that?’
He seemed to deflate before her eyes, his shoulders slumping as he thrust his hands into his pockets. ‘I understand that your work is as important to you as mine is to me. But I have to be on the road. Quoting jobs takes me all over the country and my company would lose momentum if I was stuck in one place.’
She understood what he was implying: that her business was a start-up and wouldn’t suffer if she postponed. Or maybe she was being overly sensitive. But Hope had been betrayed by too many people close to her before and what he was asking was too great. Logan might be nothing like Willem, Harry or her parents but she couldn’t ignore her own desires and sacrifice her dream for his.
Sensing she may be prevaricating, he took a step forward, broaching the distance between them. ‘This is a big deal for me, sweetheart. I’ve never lived with a woman let alone wanted to be with one for more than a short time. But I hate the thought of leaving you and we’re so great together—’
‘Shh.’ She pressed her fingertips to his mouth. ‘You have no idea how tempted I am. But I can’t throw away everything I’ve worked so hard for.’
What she really meant was even now, when I know I love you, I can’t fully trust my own judgment and, in turn, you.
But she didn’t say it. Instead, she lowered her hand. ‘Why don’t we trial long-distance for a while? See how that goes?’
His lips compressed in a mutinous line and he shook his head. ‘Never works.’
His gaze darted away, evasive, and she knew right then her dream of him giving her time to trust, time to develop their connection, was just that—a fanciful dream.
‘I get why my dad left us, and my mum had demons that had nothing to do with him, but I won’t put myself in a similar situation of you sitting around, waiting for me to show up in Melbourne whenever it’s convenient.’
His tortured gaze finally met hers. ‘You deserve so much more than that.’
She wanted to rant at the injustice of this. She’d finally been willing to open herself up to trust a guy and he couldn’t compromise. She loved him. He loved her enough to want her with him all the time. Yet they couldn’t make it work.
Fuck trust and relationships and this incredible man who’d made her fall in love with him without trying.
‘I understand,’ she said, sadness making her voice quiver at their stupid impasse.
He wanted her with him.
She had to stay.
And she hoped to God she wouldn’t regret this decision for the rest of her life.
‘So that’s it, then?’ He removed his hands from his pockets and reached for her.
She let him haul her into his arms where she rested her cheek against his chest. His heart thudded beneath her ear, strong and steady, like the man himself, a reminder of what she was giving up in sticking to her principles, in holding on to a deep-seated fear that could ruin any chance she ever had at lasting happiness.
‘You’re so special to me,’ she murmured, wrapping her arms around his waist and hanging on tight. ‘I wish I could be with you.’
‘I wish for that too, babe,’ he said, burying his face in her hair.
Hope had no idea how long they clung to each other, silently wishing for things that could never be.
But this time, when he released her and headed for the door, she didn’t stop him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
‘IT’S GOOD TO have you back on deck.’ Logan shook Rick’s hand. ‘You must’ve done a number on that physio to get early clearance to return to work.’
‘My back’s fine.’ Rick did a twist and side-bend to demonstrate. ‘Good as new.’
‘Yeah, well, take it easy for the first week back on the tools. I can’t afford to lose you again.’
Ironic, that those latter words were what he’d envisaged saying to Hope yesterday. Instead, he’d ended up blurting his proposal for her to accompany him on the road, she’d turned him down and he’d been reeling ever since.
How had his plan to confess his feelings been so monumentally fucked up?
He could blame his upbringing, how he’d learned to suppress his feelings young, but that was bullshit and he knew it. He wasn’t his mum, he wasn’t his dad; he had to take full responsibility for this cock-up. It was all on him.
‘So what’s this meeting about?’ Rick wedged into the booth opposite Logan. ‘I’ve read all your emails and seen the plans for upcoming jobs. No need to roll out the welcome wagon personally.’
Logan took a deep breath. Here went nothing.
‘I want to talk to you about shaking things up a little.’
When Rick’s brow furrowed in confusion, he clarified. ‘With the company structuring.’
Rick shook his head. ‘You’ve lost me, mate.’
Logan hoped this hare-brained idea wouldn’t sound as stupid articulated out loud as it did in his own head. ‘I want to delegate more jobs and install you in a higher management role.’
‘You’re giving me a promotion?’ Rick’s eyebrows shot up, before his mouth eased into a lop-sided grin. ‘Maybe I should take time off work with a crook back more often.’
Logan clasped his hands together and rested them on the table between them. ‘I’m making a few changes for the benefit of the company, that’s all.’
‘Bullshit.’ Rick thumped the table. ‘You’re a control freak. That’s why you insist on quoting every new job personally, no matter where it is.’ He guffawed. ‘So the fact you’re even talking about delegating means something
major has happened.’
Logan should’ve known his oldest friend wouldn’t buy the professional spiel. The last thing he wanted to do was discuss his relationship with Hope but after he’d got home late last night he’d spent a sleepless night re-evaluating his priorities.
He wanted her, but on his terms.
She’d refused.
So what did he have to do to convince her that his feelings were beyond the physical?
He’d mulled over various scenarios, discounting them all, until he came up with one he hoped she’d find doable. If not, he was plain out of options.
‘Fuck me.’ Rick snapped his fingers. ‘This is about that woman, Hope, isn’t it?’
‘Maybe.’
Rick didn’t buy his offhand shrug for a second.
‘Never thought I’d see the day, my friend.’ Rick leaned back and folded his arms, his wide grin annoying as fuck. ‘You’ve gone and fallen for a woman for longer than a nanosecond.’
‘Fuck you,’ Logan said, his grouchiness more to do with the fact he was so easy to read these days than his friend’s intuition.
Rick laughed and fake knuckled his eyes. ‘Quit bellyaching and tell me what your grand plan is.’
‘No grand plan,’ Logan said, managing to sound offhand. ‘I wanted her to travel with me, but she’s starting up a new business so that’s not possible. So if I delegate more jobs, that means I can stay in Melbourne more often.’
Rick mouthed, Wow, and Logan balled up a napkin and flung it at him.
‘You’re actually thinking the C-word?’ Rick continued mocking him. ‘You’re actually committing?’
Logan flipped him the bird and he laughed again.
‘Seriously, mate, this is a good thing you’re doing. Why the change of heart? For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve determinedly avoided staying put in any one place and hooking up with a woman...oh.’ Rick lost the goofy expression. ‘You saw your dad?’
Logan nodded. ‘It helped clarify a few things.’
‘Good for you.’ Rick studied him. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘No.’
‘You know I’m going to ask regardless,’ Rick said. ‘You’re not planning on sticking around Melbourne permanently?’
‘That’s right.’
‘So what happens if things get serious between you and Hope? What then?’
‘Fucked if I know,’ Logan muttered, well aware that was a major flaw in his plan.
But at least he had a plan, when after leaving Hope last night he’d had nothing. This new plan involved making her see that he wasn’t some spoiled brat who expected her to give up everything to be with him, that he didn’t only want their relationship dependent on his way or the highway.
This way, he was making sacrifices too. He’d stay in Melbourne some of the time, she could accompany him on the road some of the time. Win-win.
Now all he had to do was convince her.
‘Just so you know, women rarely change their minds, mate.’ Rick held up his hand, the gold wedding band on his ring finger shining in the morning sunshine. ‘And you don’t need one of these to know it.’
Logan hoped to God he could convince Hope to change hers. ‘Hope and I are on the same page. She wants to be with me; she said as much last night. But she doesn’t want to give up her business, and neither do I, so this should work for both of us.’
Rick held up his hands in mock surrender. ‘Hey, I’m not the one that needs convincing. But if your relationship does take the next logical step towards long-term commitment, be prepared that one of you may have to give up everything.’
Logan didn’t want to contemplate that yet. He knew he was in for a fight trying to sway her to accompany him on the road even some of the time. And he had to do it. He wouldn’t be the only one compromising but spending longer periods of time in Melbourne would be a good start. He wouldn’t do long distance. It hadn’t worked for his folks and it sure as hell wouldn’t work for him. He wanted all of Hope all the time and if that made him a selfish prick so be it.
This plan was doable. Time in Melbourne for her life, time on the road for his. Simple.
So why did his gut gripe at the thought it was anything but?
‘Good luck, mate.’ Rick slapped him on the back. ‘Hope it works out for you. And in the meantime, I’m ready to step up in the company in any role you need me.’
‘Thanks, I couldn’t do this without you.’ Logan pulled Rick in for a man hug that lasted the requisite less than five seconds. ‘I’ll email you the revised job description and the upcoming quotes I’ll need you to do.’
An uncharacteristic sombreness made Rick hesitate. ‘Do you want to wait and see what your girl says before you go ahead with the company restructuring?’
It had crossed Logan’s mind that Hope might still say no to his new proposal. But he hadn’t got this far in life by second-guessing decisions. He’d left home at eighteen to live in a big city, supporting himself. He’d embarked on his career with gusto. He’d launched his company with loans and a will to succeed. If he’d dithered over any of those life choices he’d still be stuck in Rally-Doo mourning his mum and hating his dad.
So he wouldn’t hold back on this plan with Hope. He was all in. And if he failed he’d deal with the fall-out then.
‘Regardless of what happens with Hope, I think it’s time I cut back on the constant travel and put down some roots for a while.’ He pointed at the rolled up newspaper on the table they’d just vacated. ‘Dad’s done an interview featured today. He’s got some gigs in Melbourne for the foreseeable future so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to spend more time here, getting to know him.’
‘That’s great.’ Rick’s goofy grin returned. ‘You’re a changed man and I like it.’
When Rick held out his arms again, Logan waved him away. ‘Cut the sentimental bullshit and get back to work.’
‘Sure thing, boss.’ He snapped a quick salute. ‘Let me know how it all goes.’
Logan nodded, determined that nothing would stop him from presenting his plan to Hope and convincing her to agree.
CHAPTER THIRTY
IT HAD TAKEN Hope five long, lonely days to figure out what she really wanted out of life.
Her song ‘Yearning’ had gone viral, with downloads increasing exponentially each day, and the resultant airplay and feedback equally astounding. She’d launched a new song for an unknown artist that was already climbing the indie charts. And she had enough bookings for her recording studio to keep her busy for the next year. She should be floating.
Instead, when she walked into her apartment at the end of a long day and toed off her shoes, the emptiness crashed over her. She loved her place, a sanctuary from the increasing demands of her job. Ironic, that in launching her dream she’d achieved what she’d always wanted—an endless stream of music and almost every hour of the day filled with creative energy—yet it wasn’t enough.
She craved...more.
And that more was in the shape of one very tall, very hot, very rugged, Aussie builder-cum-CEO.
So, after her sixth sleepless night in a row, she’d instigated steps to satisfy her craving.
She knew several musician junkies in the indie scene in Melbourne and she’d just interviewed her third for the day. She needed a part-time manager, someone to shoulder the load alongside her, freeing up more of her time to chase another dream.
Happiness.
She gave the interviewee the usual wind-up spiel and walked him to the door, leaping back in surprise when it flung open to reveal a mussed, unshaven, crazy man on the other side.
Logan.
‘I’ll be in touch,’ she said to the interviewee, managing to keep her voice from quivering when every nerve ending in her body had gone on hyper alert at the sight of Logan.
The guy nodded and skirted around Logan, w
ho stood on her doorstep like an avenging angel, shoulders squared, heat blazing from his eyes, his hair bristling from some unseen energy force.
‘What are you doing—?’
She didn’t get to finish her sentence as his mouth claimed hers in a toe-curling kiss that left her clinging to him and making embarrassing pleading noises in the back of her throat. He tasted of coffee and mint, the challenge of his tongue entwining with hers so familiar she wanted to cry.
But Hope couldn’t do this any more, this weird push-pull where they ended things then started up because of a sizzling sexual chemistry. She wanted more and, despite the way she’d refused his last offer, she hoped he still did too.
Placing her hands on his chest, she pushed gently and eased her mouth from his. ‘Stop.’
He stared at her in wild-eyed confusion, as if he hadn’t meant to kiss her but had got carried away. ‘I came here to talk but seeing you does crazy things to me.’
He made loopy circles at his temple. ‘Completely bat-shit crazy.’
She laughed and led him in, closing the door behind him. ‘Actually, I’m glad you’re here.’
‘You may not be when you hear what I have to say.’
That sounded ominous but Hope didn’t let it discourage her. She knew what she wanted. Him.
She’d spent the last five years pushing men away, trying to prove that she didn’t need anybody; that trust was overrated and she could do just fine on her own; trying to prove that she earned her breaks and didn’t get them handed to her on a silver platter despite her entitled upbringing. In a way, that was what the recording studio was all about, her final fait accompli to show how far she’d come from a privileged life in a gentrified English manor. The pinnacle of her independent achievements, a real ‘up yours’ to the people who’d ruined her faith in practically everybody.
She’d achieved her dream, but at what cost if she couldn’t have the man she loved too?
And she did love him. Wholeheartedly, unreservedly, the kind of love to make her take a risk on fully trusting again, the kind of love to inspire grand acts of passion. Like this.