by Emma Lea
Connor reached over the console of his truck and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently.
“You look terrified,” he said.
“You do remember who I am don't you?” Georgie said, looking at him and silently loving the feel of his hand in hers, “I'm the girl who trips over her own feet.”
“I promise that what we’re going to do isn't dangerous.”
“It doesn't matter,” she said shaking her head, “I'm a klutz and what about wild animals? Crocodiles and snakes and spiders and such. I'm pretty sure even wombats are vicious.”
“Okay, for one, there are no crocodiles in the Northern Tablelands, you're thinking of Northern Queensland. Two, snakes are just as scared of us as we are of them. If you leave them alone, they'll leave you alone and thirdly, I really don't think spiders are going to be an issue.”
“What about the wombats?”
“Wombats are slow, you could outrun one.”
“Ha ha, very funny. I don't run.”
“Not even a little bit?”
“If you see me running then you better run too because something is chasing me.”
He laughed and the joyous sound filled the cab of the truck and made her skin prickle in a delicious way.
“You should put that on a t-shirt,” he said.
“I think I already have it on a shirt,” she replied and he laughed again.
“So where are we going?” she asked when the cab was quiet again.
“It's a surprise,” he replied, squeezing her hand again.
She liked that he was holding her hand and she was in no hurry to break the contact. Instead she leaned back in the comfortable leather seat and watched the scenery go by. It really was a beautiful part of the country. Some people thought the Australian bush was harsh, but there was a stark beauty about it. This part of the world was a dichotomy of grassy grazing paddocks and rocky scrub. Large boulders covered in moss and lichen seemed to sprout out of nowhere and the tall gum trees stood like majestic sentries, their white trunks and grey/green leaves striking against the cyan blue of the sky.
After a while, Connor turned off the main road onto a bumpy dirt track. They trundled along, slower now, as he navigated the rough road that was little more than a goat track until finally pulling up under a tree in a cleared spot that had some semblance to a parking lot.
“Come on,” he said, getting out of the truck and heading to the back of the tray.
Georgie climbed down from her side and shut the door firmly before joining him at the back of the truck. He plonked a wide-brimmed hat on her head. It was an Akubra and it was pink, which she appreciated. Then he handed her a bottle of water and held up a bottle of sunscreen. At her nod, he smeared some of the pungent smelling stuff over her nose before doing his own face and shoulders. He was wearing a tank top and those very muscled shoulders were on display. She looked away before she could make a fool of herself.
The tail gate slammed shut and he took her hand, pulling her toward a break in the trees.
“Come on,” he said, “It's time for your first adventure into the great outdoors.”
6
Georgie was exhausted. She couldn't remember ever walking so far or for so long. She was sweaty, her feet hurt and she was pretty sure she was sunburnt, but despite all that, she was having fun. Connor had kept her entertained with his silly antics and stupid dad jokes and she hadn't once thought about bugs or snakes or wombats. Who knew a walk in the bush could be so fun?
“Here we are,” Connor said, coming to a stop.
Georgie stepped up beside him and took a deep breath taking in the incredible view.
“Wow,” she breathed.
The vista spread out below them, a mix of rocky outcroppings and untamed scrub. There wasn't a building or a road in sight and the stillness of the midday bush was calming. Hardly a leaf stirred as nocturnal animals slumbered and the sun-loving ones took an afternoon siesta in the heat of the day. Georgie sat on a rock and soaked in the view, never having ever seen anything so beautiful or so perfect.
“Thank you,” she said, turning to Connor and giving him a small smile.
“For what?” he asked, sitting beside her.
“For making me come, for bringing me here to see this.”
He looked out at the view and she studied his profile. He really was the most handsome man she had ever seen in real life. How was it that she got to be here with him? She was not exactly the type of girl that stuff like this happened to. Georgie was a nobody, one of those people that blended into the background. Her own parents barely remembered that she was alive, so how was it possible that Connor Faulkes had come into her life?
“Come on,” he said, getting to his feet and pulling her up.
“Can't we stay here a little bit longer?”
“I want to show you something.”
Georgie bent at the waist to touch her toes and stretch out her legs before reaching up and stretching her arms above her head.
“Okay,” she said, following him back down the trail.
The walked in silence for a bit, back the way they came and then Connor took a detour down a narrow track that she hadn't even noticed the first time.
“Where are we going?” she asked, not exactly nervous, but not real confident either.
“It's a surprise,” he said, turning to look at her over his shoulder and giving her a wink.
“I don't like surprises,” she said.
“Who doesn't like surprises?” he asked, coming to a stop and turning to face her.
“Me,” she said with a shrug. “Surprises, in my experience, are never good things.”
“Never had a surprise party?”
She snorted and shook her head, “People would actually have to care about me to organise a surprise party.”
“Your parents never threw you a party or surprised you with a gift or took you on a trip?”
“I went to an all-girls boarding school and spent my holidays at camps and for my birthday I would get money or gift vouchers which were to be spent on educational pursuits.”
He gaped at her. “You're not serious.”
“I'm completely serious,” she said.
“Okay, well, that has to change. I'm taking you somewhere that is going to show you that all surprises don't have to be bad.”
He took her hand and pulled her down the trail and she let him, surprised by her confession to him about her parents. Georgie never talked about them, mainly because it made her sad. They didn't approve of her ‘little bookshop hobby’ as they called it and were waiting for her to stop ‘procrastinating’ and get a ‘proper’ job.
They were both scientists, her mother working in a lab that was trying to cure Cystic Fibrosis and her father a sought after lecturer who regularly published papers on genetic engineering and cloning. Georgie had always felt that she was just another one of their experiments. An experiment that they weren't too happy with the outcome.
“And here we are,” Connor said, breaking through her morose thoughts.
In front of them was a small lake, the water reflecting the blue sky and shimmering in the sunlight. It looked so inviting and Georgie wished she had her bathing suit.
“What is this place?”
“It's a billabong.”
“No,” she said looking at Connor in surprise, “Really?”
“Really.”
“I thought they were only myths. Wait. Does that mean there might be a bunyip nearby?”
He laughed, the rich sound echoing around them and making Georgie smile, lifting the melancholia that had descended on her at the thought of her parents.
“No bunyips, I don't think, but this really is a billabong.”
Georgie sat down and began removing her shoes.
“What are you doing?” Connor asked.
“It's hot, I'm hot and my feet hurt and the water looks good so I thought I would dangle my feet in for a bit.”
He sat down beside her and started doing th
e same. When her feet were bare, she walked down to the edge where a rock ledge leaned over the water, and sat down, plunging her feet into the cool water. She closed her eyes and luxuriated in the blissful feeling. She felt Connor sit beside her and it felt nice to have someone to share this with. She had been a loaner for so long, never really fitting in anywhere or with anyone. It felt good to have a small breath of time where she felt normal, and she had Connor to thank for that.
“So, do you still hate surprises?”
She opened her eyes and looked at him with a smile, “I don't love them, but this whole day has gone a long way to proving to me that they're not all bad.”
“Good,” he said and then pushed her in.
The cool water closed over her and the shock of him pushing her in had her spluttering as she surfaced. Before he could stop laughing, she grabbed a hold of his leg and pulled, causing him to over balance and fall into the water too. Then it was her turn to laugh and any remaining vestiges of melancholy were washed away.
Connor couldn't believe she'd actually pulled him in. It was so unlike her, but he couldn't say he didn't like it. He had planned on jumping in after her anyway, but wanted to see how she would react first. If he had done that to any of the other women he'd dated in the past, he would've been given the cold shoulder and an icy glare because he had dared disturb their perfectly coiffed hairstyle and made their artfully applied makeup run. But Georgie didn't give a second thought to either of those things.
He watched her as she laughed at him and something warmed his insides. The unfettered joy on her face was something to behold and he wanted to keep it there. Things had gotten a little serious on the trail when she was talking about her childhood. It was a childhood he couldn't even imagine and he hadn't liked seeing her sad. Pushing her in the water had been a spur of the moment thing, but now he was glad he did it, especially since it put that smile on her face.
He swam towards her and she splashed him, drenching him with a sheet of water.
“That was mean Connor,” she said as she kicked away from him.
“But fun, right?”
“I thought you were trying to show me good surprises.”
He edged closer to her. “Come on, that was a good surprise.”
She splashed at him again, but this time he grabbed hold of her hands and pulled her towards him, trapping her in his arms. Their bodies bumped under the water and Georgie looked up at him with her big blue eyes, her glasses wet but miraculously still in place, and her eyelashes starred with water drops.
His gaze dropped to her mouth, the lush, pink lips devoid of makeup, wet from the water of the billabong and unerringly kissable. She bit the corner of her lip and he raised his eyes to hers, the sparkle of laughter gone but something even more appealing in its place. The moment spun out between them as he held her, the sounds of the bush around them and the quiet lapping of the water as the ripples they created reached the edge of the billabong. He wanted to kiss her, but he didn't want to rush it. This setting, this moment was too precious to ruin by moving too fast.
Slowly he lowered his head towards her, his eyes never leaving hers until her lashes fluttered shut. He was mere breaths away from his lips touching hers when he felt her stiffen and it gave him pause. Before he could taste her lips, she was pushing away from him, swimming across the billabong to the rock where they had been sitting earlier. He stayed where he was, watching as she pulled herself out of the water and up onto the rock, wringing out her wet hair and clothes.
To say he was stunned was an understatement. He was flummoxed and confused. He'd been sure she had felt the moment just as he did and that she'd wanted the kiss as much as him. Now he was left with a feeling of unfinished business, an opportunity missed, and he didn't know if she would ever let him get that close again.
He made his way back across the water to the rock where she was now lying, soaking in the warmth of the sun in what he suspected was an attempt to dry herself and her clothes. He pulled himself up beside her and she flinched, but didn't move away. He knew that he would have to take these next steps carefully or she was liable to run away like a frightened rabbit. He could see the tension in her body as she pretended to be calm. Instead of asking her why, she stopped him from kissing her (which was what he really wanted to do), he pulled off his wet shirt and wrung it out over her supine body, drenching her again.
She sat up in surprise and slapped at him while he laughed, faking humour and trying to put her at ease once more.
“Thanks for that,” she said as she tried to once again wring out her wet clothes.
“Anytime,” he said with a grin.
He knew the moment she realised he was bare chested and had to stifle a laugh at her response. Her eyes widened and she swallowed, her gaze drawn to the flexed muscles of his pecs and abs. Connor worked hard on his body, it was in his contracts to be in the best physical shape possible and so he knew he looked good. And, to be honest, he liked it when women appreciated his efforts. Seeing Georgie’s cheeks flush as she stared at him, though, that was something else. He wanted to preen for her, flex and pose like some oiled-up body builder in order to show off for her. He didn't, although the desire to was strong.
“We should probably get going,” she said, her voice a bit deeper, a bit breathier.
“Sure,” he said, for the first time seeing how her wet clothes moulded to her body and feeling his mouth go dry.
Georgie was petite, but still curvy, unlike the women he'd dated in the past. He couldn't deny he liked the female form, whatever shape it took, but it was a refreshing change to see a woman who wasn't all bones and lean muscles. The women he normally dated were models or actresses or socialites hoping to be actresses and they all had punishing workout schedules, just as he did, in their attempt to chase their dreams. He figured Georgie had never seen the inside of a gym or ran for miles on a treadmill and he liked the effect.
She stood to her feet and walked over to where they had left their shoes, water bottles, and mobile phones. She slipped her shoes on and then stood waiting for him. Reluctantly, not ready for their day to end, he got to his feet and followed suit.
He liked everything about her, from her long tangled hair to her cute little feet with blue nail polish on the toes and that was dangerous. Connor knew that getting involved with her was the wrong thing to do. He was only here for a couple more weeks and then after that he would be shooting on location for months and didn't know when he would be back in Australia, let alone Oxley Crossing. Starting something with her would be a bad idea and yet he was helpless to stop the feelings swirling around inside him. He wanted to spend time with her, to know what made her smile and what made her sad. He wanted to know more about how she grew up and what her parents were like and what her hopes and dreams were. He wanted to kiss her, to know what her lips tasted like as he sipped from them, learning their shape and their softness and feeling her body sigh against his. He wanted all of that and more than he wanted his next breath.
They followed the trail back, Connor letting Georgie lead. It wasn't his greatest idea, but she appreciated the gesture. They didn't get lost, well, not exactly anyway, and eventually they came out to the car park, though via a different trail.
The car park that had been empty when they began their adventure now had a rather large motorhome filling up two parking spaces and as they broke through the trees and into the open, the door opened and a middle-aged couple descended the steps.
“Oh my goodness,” the woman said, rushing over to them. Georgie was immediately on edge and froze as the woman bee-lined for them. “You're Connor Faulkes.”
Georgie relaxed slightly as the woman pushed past her, not even acknowledging her existence. She was a little offended for Connor’s sake. As for Georgie, she was used to being ignored.
“Marilyn,” the man called to her, “Leave these nice folks alone.”
Marilyn waved a distracted hand at, who Georgie assumed was, her husband and stared up at Co
nnor like he was an ice cream cone melting in the sun and she desperately wanted to lick him.
“You are Connor Faulkes aren't you?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Connor responded with a grin.
“I knew it! Can I have a photo with you?”
Connor shot Georgie an apologetic glance as the woman snuggled up beside him and extended her phone on a selfie-stick so that she could take the photo.
“I apologise for my wife,” the man said coming to stand beside Georgie, “I think she's been going a bit stir crazy since we started our trip. We’ve never really spent this much time together without other people in the mix.”
“How long have you been on the road?”
“A little over a month now. It was always our dream to retire and join the ranks of the grey nomads, but I'm not so sure it's going to work out.”
The grey nomads was what the country affectionately called retired couples who sold everything up and spent six months or so of the year travelling around Australia in motor homes and caravans. It sounded idyllic to Georgie, but then she was a bit of a loner and would find the solitude blissful.
“Harry stop gas-bagging and get over here and take a photo of me and Connor Faulkes!”
Harry sighed indulgently and went to do his wife’s bidding. Georgie didn't envy him spending twenty-four hours a day cooped up in a motorhome with Marilyn, though. She seemed like a handful.
The woman continued to monopolise Connor, always calling him ‘Connor Faulkes’ like he couldn't simply be just Connor. Connor, for the most part, smiled politely and chatted to the couple asking about their travels and their family. He even tried to include her in the conversation, introducing her to Marilyn and Harry, but Marilyn continued to ignore her. Eventually, after signing his autograph numerous times on whatever she could find in her motor home, Connor managed to disentangle himself from the older woman, who had a death grip on his arm, and he came over to Georgie, slung his arm around her shoulder and whispered in her ear.
“Quick. Let's make a break for it.”