Headlong (Quinn Brothers Book 2)

by Samantha Black

  “Lovely,” she breathed.

  “Rock wallabies hang out on the cliffs around here. They’re a browny-grey color, and can be hard to spot against the rocks, but they are worth keeping an eye out for.”

  “How about kangaroos?” she asked. She’d always rather liked kangaroos, and still felt a bit bad about running into one in the truck. She’d grown up reading Winnie the Pooh, and while she most definitely associated herself with the highly organized and organizing Rabbit, she had a soft spot for little Roo and his mom, Kanga. She’d like to see another kangaroo under rather better circumstances this time.

  “Possibly, once we get up to the top, where the ground is a bit more open. They like the tussock better than the rocks.”

  After catching her breath, she resumed the scramble over the rocks. As she came over the crest of a small rise, she saw what she thought was a wallaby lying on the rocks below her, in a sunny hollow out of the wind. She would have walked right by it if it hadn’t twitched its ear just as she was looking in the right direction.

  She stopped dead still and watched it for a moment.

  Noah came up behind her and she shushed him with a finger on her lips and pointed. “Look. Is that a wallaby?” she asked in an undertone. “It looks just like a little kangaroo.”

  “Yep, that’s a rock wallaby. And look, there’s another. No, two more.”

  She’d been focusing so intently on the first one that she’d seen that she’d missed the others close by. “Ooh, and one over there, too.”

  “They live in small colonies, so where there’s one, there’s nearly always another.”

  “Cool.”

  She crept a little closer to them and unslung her camera from around her neck.

  The wallabies ignored her presence, snoozing quietly in the sun, and occasionally flicking away the flies that hovered around their faces.

  After snapping a few photos, she turned back to the trail again.

  While she was looking at the wallabies, Noah had taken off his shirt and slung it across the back of his neck.

  Woah. He was ripped.

  And those tattoos.

  He had a million tattoos. They stretched up one full arm from the wrist over his shoulder and across his chest, and over the other shoulder and down the top part of his arm, ending above the elbow.

  She stared, fascinated at the ink on his skin. She’d always secretly loved tattoos, but she had never dared to get one. Her parents would have thrown a fit if she had a tiny fraction of the ink that covered his torso and upper arms. They were vocal in their opinion that only “other” kinds of people got tattoos, or indeed, any kind of body modification at all. Certainly that sort of thing would never do for their obedient, honor-roll daughter.

  Their reaction had been bad enough when she got her ears pierced on her twenty-first birthday. She’d had to endure weeks of complaining for that minor rebellion.

  Noah’s tattoos were worth years of complaints from her parents. They were magnificent.

  On each upper arm he had a sleeve tattoo with a tribal design on it. But his back was the true masterpiece. Covering almost his entire back was an intricate tattoo of what looked like various animals mixed in with a wave pattern. Somehow the ink pictures managed to look both delicate and supremely masculine at the same time.

  Of course, it was only to be expected that he had tattoos. From what she knew of him, he’d hardly led a studious and well-focused life. As far as she could tell, he was impulsive and impetuous and lived to play around. No wonder he was a fan of body art.

  Nevertheless, she could appreciate beauty when she saw it, even it was found in the most unlikely places sometimes. “Your tattoos are beautiful.”

  He whipped around to face her, his face tight as if he expected her to be messing with him. “Really?”

  “I do genuinely like them.”

  His face relaxed a fraction, just around the eyes, but she could see the relief in them.

  “Why did you get them done?”

  “They all mean something special to me.” He pointed at the sleeve on his right arm. “This is a Maori design. I was born in New Zealand and grew up there. It marks where I have come from and reminds me of my heritage.” This one,” he said, touching the half sleeve on his left arm, “is an Aboriginal design, from the original people here in Australia. It represents who I have chosen to be and honors the country I have made my home.”

  “And on your back?”

  “It’s a sort of underwater design with a manta ray in the middle of it. The manta ray is my spirit animal. They are—sorta like a giant stingray.”

  Abby shuddered. “Aren’t they dangerous?”

  “Manta rays are huge and can look pretty intimidating, but they are harmless. They are such beautiful creatures, gentle and calm. And they hang out in tropical water, doing nothing but eating plankton all day. That’s my kind of animal.”

  Okay, so he had just destroyed the brownie points he had received from his great body art by closely associating it with his love of goofing off. “Hmmm, speaking of water, can you pass me a bottle?”

  He tossed her a bottle from his pack, and once they had both had a drink, they continued the climb, past the sleeping wallabies, down into a gully and then up again.

  The track got easier as they reached the top. Fewer ledges of shale, and what ledges there were, were both wide and shallow. Scrubby vegetation grew along the tops of the cliff, and across the plateau that stretched out into the distance.

  “Roo country,” he said, gesturing at the wide-open space.

  She looked at him quizzically. “Roos?”

  “Kangaroos.”

  She scanned the area all the way to the horizon, but she didn’t see any kangaroos. Or ‘roos as he called them. “So, are we at the top now? Time to turn around and go back down?” It hadn’t been as long a walk as she feared, but her thighs had started to burn on the last of the climb.

  “Just a bit further.” And he took off down a slope, his long legs eating the distance so quickly that she had to break into a jog to keep up.

  The slope led into a small gully filled with broken rocks. He led the way down the gully, heading towards the river.

  Protected from the wind on all sides, the heat in the narrow channel was intense. “Is it really worth going down here?” she called to Noah, who had forged ahead. “Climbing up again is going to be murder.”

  “It will be worth it, I guarantee.”

  She grumbled a bit, but she followed. He was carrying all the water. And the food. She was getting hungry. Climbing down the gorge after him was a better option than staying by herself at the top and trying to find her way back with no food or water.

  She estimated they were about halfway down to the bottom of the river gully when she caught a glimpse of the river below. A small waterfall trickled over a rock face, creating a natural pool at the bottom. From this distance, it looked clear and clean and icy cold. “That’s where we are heading?”

  “Fancy a swim?”

  The thought of jumping into that cool water revived her energy and she kept close behind him for the last scramble down to the water. In some places, the track was so steep, she had to sit on her bottom and practically slide down, hanging onto whatever she could find to slow her descent. Noah, annoyingly, jumped down as quick and nimble as a mountain goat.

  By the time they reached the bottom, she was dripping with sweat, and covered in dust and dirt which had stuck to it.

  There was a small area of shingle next to the pool, and the trickle of the water over the rocks was almost the only sound there.

  Noah wiped his t-shirt across his forehead and tossed it down onto the patch of shingle. “Lunch first or swim first?”

  Abby looked longingly at the water. She felt so hot and dirty. “I didn’t bring a swimsuit, but I’d love a paddle before lunch.”

  “I didn’t bring a swimsuit either, but it’s not going to stop me.”

  Before Abby could utter a word of
protest, he’d kicked off his hiking boots and socks, pushed his shorts over his lean brown hips, and jumped into the water. She blushed and looked away. He had no shame.

  His head emerged again, his hair dripping water. “Ahhh, that feels better,” he said, as he trod water. “Cold but good.”

  Abby kicked off her own hiking boots and socks and laid her sweaty socks carefully out in the sun to dry out a bit, so she didn’t get blisters on the return journey. Then she stepped gingerly out to the edge of the pool and dipped her toes in.

  Noah was right. The water was cold. And very, very good.

  She stepped in a little further, until her ankles were covered, and then her knees. The pool was shallow at the edge, but quickly got deeper.

  “Come on in,” he called from the middle of the pool.

  With a sudden moment of horror, she remembered the grisly warnings she had received before she left for Australia. She scuttled back out of the water with a shriek. “Get out of the water. Get out of the water now.”

  With a few quick strokes, he was standing at the edge of the pool, a look of concern on his face. “What’s the matter?”

  “Crocodiles!” she screeched, trying hard not to notice that he was standing knee-deep in the water without a stitch of clothing on. “We can’t go swimming there. We’ll be eaten by crocodiles.”

  He shook his head and splashed back into the water. “It’s fine. There aren’t any crocodiles this far south.”

  “But...but everyone knows that you can’t go swimming in rivers in Australia because of the crocodiles. They’re huge and vicious. They eat people.”

  “You can’t go swimming up in the north of Australia—lots of salt water crocs up there. Salties, we call them. But they don’t come this far south.”

  “Never?”

  “Well, I’ve never seen one.”

  She could feel her panic returning, and she backed away from the water into the face of the cliff. Getting eaten by a crocodile was not on her to-do list for today. “That doesn’t prove anything. They could be hiding under the water with only their nostrils showing or pretending to be a log. You don’t see them until they get their teeth into you. That’s the whole point of being a crocodile.”

  “Relax, I’m teasing you. They genuinely don’t hang out here. Five hundred kilometers further north of here, well, I wouldn’t go swimming there. But around here? You’re perfectly safe. Nothing’s gonna get you.” He flopped back into the water, lying lazily on his back and sculling gently with his arms to keep himself afloat.

  Hesitantly she approached the water again. Now that she was reasonably sure that there were no crocs around, she really wanted to go for a swim. Bother Noah for not telling her about this pool or she would have brought a swimsuit with her.

  “Come on in,” he urged her, as she paddled on the edge up to her knees. “The water is lovely, and you look very hot.”

  “I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” she groused, gazing at the water longingly, keeping her eyes averted from Noah’s naked body.

  “It didn’t stop me.”

  “I noticed.” What woman wouldn’t have noticed? Even though she had tried very hard not to look. “You could’ve told me we were going swimming.”

  “There’s no point carrying more than you have to. It’s a long enough hike out here as it is.” He gave her a cheeky grin. “Didn’t want you to get too tired.”

  He might be perfectly comfortable in his body, but she wasn’t so comfortable in her own. “I’m not going skinny-dipping with you around.” That wasn’t going to happen. Not ever. Not in front of him, or any man for that matter.

  “Oh come on, I won’t even look.” He turned away in an exaggerated motion and covered his eyes with his hands while he trod water to stay afloat.

  Abby hesitated again. She looked around herself again, to reassure herself that there wasn’t possibly anybody else around. She knew they had been the only vehicle to park there, but she would absolutely die of embarrassment if someone did see her. She looked again at the sparkly water and at Noah, who was still treading water with his hands over his face, facing away from her.

  Screw it, she thought. She pulled her t-shirt over her head quickly and placed it on the least dusty rock she could see. Another moment’s hesitation before she quickly slid her shorts down and placed them on the rock, too. She stood in her old black sports bra that still looked brand new (it didn’t get enough use, she was embarrassed to admit) and a black g-string, wishing she’d worn underwear that left slightly more to the imagination.

  “Hurry up,” Noah called from the water. “I’m getting cramp here.”

  “Don’t look yet!” she called back quickly. She dipped her toes in the water again then slid in with a cry of delight as the cold water hit her skin. At the sound of the splash Noah turned around and gave her a grin.

  “You opted against skinny-dipping then,” he said, eyeing her bra straps that were visible above the water.

  Abby wrapped her arms around herself as best she could, treading water and feeling much too exposed. She nodded. Taking her clothes off to swim had seemed like a good idea in that short moment but now under Noah’s gaze she felt out of her depth. She was not the type of girl to swim in her underwear with a practical stranger.

  “How good does the water feel. You should really try skinny-dipping, it’s so freeing,” Noah said and dove under the water, surfacing a couple yards from her and shaking his long, wet hair out of his face. With his long hair and enthusiasm Abby was reminded of a shaggy dog for a second and gave a giggle.

  She took a breath and ducked under the water, hanging in mid-water for a couple seconds before surfacing. The cold water against her face felt incredibly refreshing.

  To Noah’s credit he avoided swimming too close to Abby, perhaps picking up on her discomfort. After a few more minutes of swimming they both began to shiver slightly.

  “Lunchtime?” Noah asked, and Abby nodded vigorously.

  “Just to warn you I’m going to get out now and I intend on letting the sun dry me.” He gave her a wicked grin and Abby rolled her eyes.

  “At least put your shorts on,” she replied. “Or I’m staying here.” Never mind that she was shivering and starving hungry.

  Noah swam to the edge of the pool and pulled himself onto the rocks. Abby turned away but couldn’t help but peek out of the corner of her eye. She just wanted to look at his tattoos, she told herself. Instead she found herself admiring the definition of his muscles in his broad back and shoulders and watching as water droplets dripped from his hair and rolled down his back. He shook his hair out again and pulled a towel out of his bag, before turning to see Abby looking at him.

  “Caught you looking,” he said with that same laughing tone and Abby went red and turned away.

  “I was wondering what was taking so long,” she responded curtly, embarrassed at having been caught.

  A couple seconds later he called out, “It’s safe, I have pants on.”

  Abby swam to the edge of the pool.

  “Turn around,” she ordered.

  He turned and looked pointedly at the rocks in front of him. Abby pulled herself out of the water and stepped towards the towel, where Noah had flung it to dry in the sun. She took one step but slipped on the wet surface of the rock and fell to her knee hard.

  The thud of her fall and her loud expletives were not missed by Noah, who turned around and was at her side in a heartbeat.

  “You okay?” he asked, gently taking her shoulders and helping her stand. “I should have warned you it’s slippery.”

  “I’m fine,” she replied, biting her lip and trying not to cry. The fall hurt, and her knee was going to a have a shiner of a bruise. She looked down to see she’d cut it open and it was bleeding quite a bit. Noah helped her over to the rocks and sat her down before grabbing his pack and rummaging through it, pulling out gauze and tape. He dried her knee with the towel, seemingly not minding that it was going to now have blood stains on it and caref
ully laid down the gauze and taped the edges to her knee.

  He sat back, satisfied with his work and looked up at her. “All cleaned up. You’ll be okay to walk up the hill thankfully. It would be a slow climb if I had to carry you.”

  “Thanks,” she said, still trying not to cry or curse again. Her knee was throbbing, and she was glad of Noah’s foresight in bringing a first aid kit with him. He smiled and brushed his hair out of his eyes. His eyes met hers then moved away and she could feel his gaze traveling down the length of her wet and very much on-display body.

  “No problem.” He looked away suddenly and stood up quickly. “I, uh, will let you get dressed.”

  Abby pulled the towel over and wrapped herself in it, drying off quickly while Noah busied himself with unpacking lunch. She wasn’t sure what to make of the moment. A part of her had felt terribly exposed and uncomfortable but there was a very small part of her that felt good at being looked at like that. She just wished it had been Jed who was there, looking at her like that.

  She shook her head and forced the thoughts from her mind and pulled her shorts back on over her bruised knee.

  Chapter Four

  The awkwardness of him seeing her nearly naked had faded by the time they finished eating lunch and Abby had gorged herself on the sandwiches he had packed. Noah had settled back comfortably into his joking self.

  Even with her shorts and t-shirt on again, her underwear had nearly dried and they set off towards the truck again once the food was nearly finished. The pain in her knee had been reduced to a dull throbbing thanks to the painkillers in Noah’s first aid kit but even so she had to grit her teeth for the last mile of the walk.

  It was late afternoon by the time they got back to the truck. Abby collapsed on the seat of Noah’s truck and he turned on the engine and cranked the air con up to the maximum.

  He checked her knee and whistled at the fast-forming bruise. Her entire knee was now covered in a faint blue. “That’s impressive. It’s going to get pretty colorful over the next few days.”