Our Kind of Love

by Victoria Purman

  ‘Shall we sit down?’ Anna said with a frustrated glance at him and a hair flick, and he realised he’d been standing like a goose staring at her.

  ‘Of course.’ Joe pulled out Anna’s chair, pushing it back in once she’d sat down. That simple move had her stare softening into a gaze and the faintest smile at the corner of her lips.

  ‘Thanks,’ she murmured and he felt two feet taller. He knew this couldn’t be easy for her and he vowed right there and then to do everything he could to be by her side, all night. He knew how to fend off questions, how to dodge answers. He’d be her bodyguard, her protector. Hell, he’d even dance with her if he needed to.

  As Joe sat down, he noticed the white place card at the top of his dinner plate, nestled between four sparkling glasses, an empty coffee cup, the elaborately printed menu with a white ribbon at its spine, and a side plate with, quite possibly the largest dinner roll he’d ever seen. It looked like a small loaf of bread. The place card said clearly, ‘Alex’. He discretely reached for it, tore it in half and slipped it in his breast pocket.

  ‘Who’s this?’ A tall, dark guy had arrived at the table with suspicion in his eyes and a proud chin lifted in indignation.

  ‘Hi, Luca,’ Anna said. ‘This is Joseph.’

  Joe got to his feet and held out a hand. ‘Joe Blake. Good to meet you.’ Exactly how big was Anna’s family?

  Anna waved a hand at them both in turn. ‘Joe, this is my brother, Luca.’ The two men shook hands and, nope, Luca didn’t have a smile for him either. Were the Morelli men missing a gene or something?

  ‘G’day,’ Luca grunted and sat down on the other side of Anna. Then Grace pulled up a chair on the other side of Joe. He glanced from left to right and realised he was caught in the Morelli sibling squeeze.

  A sharp elbow jabbed him in the arm. ‘So who are you really and what are you doing with my sister?’

  Joe leaned one elbow on the back of his chair and turned to Grace. The sisters looked similar; same height, same colouring, same eyes that looked like pools of fortified wine. Clearly the little sister had a protective instinct to rival a German Shepherd’s.

  ‘You’re the youngest of the three, right?’

  Grace scoffed. ‘Don’t turn the questions back on me, my friend. Tell me what you’re doing with my sister.’

  ‘Are you asking me what my intentions are?’

  She narrowed her eyes at him and looked him up and down with a wry grin. ‘I know damn well what your intentions are. I’m not blind.’

  ‘This is all entirely innocent, I assure you.’ Like hell it was.

  ‘Pull the other one,’ Grace snorted.

  ‘I live in Sydney. I usually live in Sydney. I’m from Adelaide originally and I’ve been staying down at Middle Point for a while. That’s where I met Anna. Through Dan and Lizzie. We’re friends.’ Friends with benefits was a better description but Joe feared that if he dropped that one into Anna’s little sister’s lap he might be escorted away from the party in an ambulance with a utensil straight through the heart. Grace may not be a doctor, but he figured that wouldn’t get in the way of her performing some impromptu surgery with a butter knife.

  Grace studied him for a moment, her head tilted to one side, her arms folded. By the look on her face, he could see she was enjoying making him sweat. She picked up her dinner roll and slowly began picking at small pieces of the hard crust and popping them into her mouth.

  ‘Just a little warning about the Morelli family, Joe. There’s not just me, but Luca, my parents and Nonna. And Nonna is tougher than she looks. Clear?’

  Joe got it. Theoretically he got it. He’d read about it but had never really seen it in action, even in Jasmine’s family. The whole blood is thicker than water thing she was referring to? It wasn’t something he’d ever felt as an adult. As a kid, sure. But that’s what mothers and grandmothers do, right? They stick by you through thick and thin. But one day they’re not there anymore and you’re navigating the choppy waters of the world all by yourself.

  Looking around, he could see Anna wasn’t on her own. Would never be. And he envied her that, just a little.

  ‘I hear you loud and clear,’ Joe said. ‘But believe me when I say that I won’t do anything to hurt her. You have my word, Grace.’

  ‘Good.’ She patted him on the shoulder. ‘Keep it that way. Now, are you going to pour me some wine, or not?’

  Joe needed a break from all the talking. He’d asked millions of questions in his professional life but now the shoe was uncomfortably tight on the other foot. He’d never endured the interrogatory onslaught that the Morelli siblings were dishing up. Grace and Luca had fired them at him like bullets; so many in fact that he’d barely had time to eat anything he’d been talking so much. Hell, given they’d gone at him through five courses and the speeches, he figured they even knew his shoe size by now.

  ‘Surviving?’ Anna whispered, so close to his ear that he felt the little puff of her breath on his earlobe.

  ‘Barely.’ Joe smiled at her and resisted the temptation to stretch an arm around her chair and feel the bare skin of her arm with his fingers. He was simply a friend tonight, that was all and he was making sure he acted that way. And friends could dance, couldn’t they?

  He pushed back his chair, stood and reached out a hand to her. Their eyes met for a long moment. Anna gave him the slightest little shake of her head, almost invisible but adamant. ‘No, Joe. Sit down.’ Her eyes darted around the room to see who was watching.

  ‘You owe me.’ They shared a look that said they both remembered full well what had happened the last time they danced together.

  ‘Everyone will be watching us.’

  ‘Damn straight they will be.’ He leaned down so only she could hear. ‘Only they won’t be looking at how amazing your arse looks in that dress. Which it does, by the way. They’ll be watching me. I’m the mystery man, fresh meat, remember?’

  Anna should have resisted, she knew it. But the whole night had been torture up to this point, trying not to notice the whispers and stares of everyone in the room. Oh, she knew she was the subject of their speculation. But that was nothing compared with the agony of being so close to Joe and being forced to keep her hands from him. She tried to ignore the fact that his thigh was nudging hers under the table, acting as if she hadn’t felt his hand, warm and strong, settle in the small of her back as they walked in. And the way he looked at her, like he wanted to peel off her dress, she’d tried to be oblivious to that, too. So the idea of dancing with Joe, in public, being in his arms again, her hand in his, was just the slightest bit risky. It could turn all Footloose out there. Where dancing might lead to sex.

  And that would be bad on so many levels. Wouldn’t it?

  To hell with it. Maybe tonight, for the third time this year, she was up for bad.

  A few steps later and she was in Joe’s arms, the very traditional Italian sounds of Dean Martin singing That’s Amore floating all around them. The dance floor was dotted with other couples so they weren’t they only ones on display. But Anna knew they would be the only ones people noticed.

  ‘I don’t think your dad likes me,’ Joe said as he pulled her slightly closer. She shivered at the feel of being in his arms again.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she laughed, ‘He’s just being my father.’

  ‘And I don’t think your brother likes me, either.’

  ‘He’s just being my brother.’

  ‘And Grace is just being your sister?’

  ‘Exactly. We’re tight, you know, we Morellis.’

  ‘You’re telling me. And that Nonna of yours, she’s flat-out scary.’

  Anna looked up to meet Joe’s eyes. Did she want her family to like Joe? There was a lot to like. They would admire his loyalty, she knew that. The way he cared for his sister, for his friends, for her, when she’d needed a shoulder. And despite his former career, he seemed to be someone who had kept their secret. He was protective, smart and, Anna suddenly realised, a pr
etty good dancer.

  Anna glanced down at their feet. ‘Hey, you’re not actually too bad at this.’

  As if to prove it, Joe whirled her around with a quick step and she held on tighter to him so she didn’t lose her balance. Anna laughed at the spinning sensation and some of the nervous tension that had stiffened her shoulders fell away.

  ‘Your people like big parties.’

  ‘We sure do. Engagements. Weddings. Christenings. We like the rituals. It reminds us that we are all connected, part of a community.’

  Joe cocked his head to the ceiling, to the chiffon and the fairy lights. ‘Did you have all this when you got hitched?’

  ‘Oh yeah. The whole lot.’ Anna winced at the memory.

  ‘Really? All this spangly stuff? I would have thought a doctor and a lawyer would be far too serious to indulge in all this froth and bubble.’

  ‘Oh no. First girl in an Italian family to get married? We had it all. What about you?’

  Joe shook his head. ‘Nope. We got married at the registry office in Chippendale.’

  ‘Really? You see, I would never have gotten away with that.’

  ‘La bella figura, right?’

  Anna felt a clutch at her chest. ‘Yes. You go to other people’s children’s weddings and when it’s your turn, you put on a show, too.’

  ‘Please tell me you had a mirror ball.’

  ‘Yes. And the huge dress. Six bridesmaids. Eight courses for dinner. Bomboniere for each guest and dry ice on the dance floor. It was an extravaganza.’ And it had counted for nothing in the end. Anna’s eyes darted away from him. ‘It was here. My wedding reception.’

  Joe felt the tension stiffen Anna’s shoulders. Instinctively he brought her closer, pulled her against him, and lowered his lips to her forehead. He kissed her, softly, gently, held his lips there. He wanted her to know that she could lean on him. Here, in the place where she’d married her cheating prick of a husband. He wanted her to know that not all men were like that. There were good ones and he was one of them. As Anna melted into him, he understood why she’d needed him with her. For protection, not from everyone else’s judgment and attention, but from her own opinions about herself and what had happened.

  ‘And I bet most of these people were at your wedding, right?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Anna let her head rest against his chest, murmuring right into his heart.

  Something flared up inside Joe but he kept his voice low, whispering, his lips moving against her ear to be heard above the Italian love songs in the air around them.

  ‘Listen to me, Anna. Those people don’t get to decide who you are. That’s your call.’

  Anna lifted her head and met his eyes. For a whole cheesy verse of whatever song was playing, she didn’t speak. When she finally did, her eyes glistened with tears and that thing flaring up inside Joe shot up into the sky like a rocket.

  ‘Sometimes you know just the right thing to say, you know that, Joe?’

  ‘It’s a gift. And listen, everyone here has their own secrets, believe me. You talk about la bella figura? I don’t know what the English equivalent is, but everyone has stuff they don’t want others to know about.’

  ‘Thanks for coming with me tonight. You’ve made it easier.’

  Joe frowned. ‘Well, that’s disappointing. This was supposed to be fun.’ A blush bloomed in Anna’s olive-skinned cheeks. Damn, he loved that.

  ‘Dancing is fun,’ she said.

  ‘That’s not exactly what I had in mind.’ Joe glanced around at the crowd. ‘The way I see it is that you’ve already got everyone talking about what’s happened and who the hell I am. You’ve got nothing to lose but your reputation.’ Joe glanced around the room. ‘And judging by the way everyone here has been staring at you all night, that’s already shot.’

  Anna gave him a teasing look. ‘I don’t care about that anymore, remember?’

  ‘So you may as well enjoy your status as good-girl-turned-bad, Dr Morelli.’

  Anna sighed. ‘It’s never that simple in my world, but it is in yours, isn’t it? Where everything is black and white. Is that what you used to do? Paint people as good or bad? Saint or sinner? Madonna or whore?’

  How would he describe Anna? he wondered, as he met her eyes and held the look. ‘I always tried to find the grey in between those absolutes. And look what happened to me.’

  ‘I suppose everyone has secrets,’ Anna said. ‘And regrets.’

  ‘Are you saying you regret me?’ Joe asked and damned if he didn’t want to hear the answer.

  ‘If I said I didn’t, would that make me a sinner? Would I go straight to hell?’

  So she didn’t regret it, any of it? Joe let his eyes drift back to the ceiling, to the chiffon and the party lights and that cheesy-as-hell mirror ball. ‘You see, that’s where things are pretty clear for me. I don’t believe there is a heaven or a hell. I just believe in the here and now. In you and me. And what we can do to make ourselves happy. Today and maybe even tomorrow.’

  ‘Tomorrow?’

  ‘I wasn’t planning on driving back to Middle Point tonight, Anna. I was planning on spending it in your bed. So yeah, I’m thinking about tomorrow.’

  Anna looked at him and he watched every delicious second as a slow smile parted her lips, those deliciously plump pillows, forming a smile that could break hearts a thousand miles away. It was a smile that said just maybe she was thinking about tomorrow, too.

  Anna gripped his fingers tight. ‘Let’s go.’

  CHAPTER

  34

  Here were the facts as she knew them.

  The night before, Anna had attended a community celebration with a man who was most definitely not her husband.

  Somewhere between sunset and sunrise, she’d caused a scandal, left before the happy couple with the man who was most definitely not her husband, and had been swept away by a man she was beginning to like quite a lot.

  Sex must have felt this good before, Anna reasoned as she dropped back on to her bed, still sweating and trying to catch her breath.

  Pity she couldn’t remember it.

  She turned her head and the crisp cotton of her 1500 thread count sheets met her cheek. Somewhere, through all her hair and the post-coital brain fog, was the man who had sent her into orbit and spun her around like a carnival clown’s pie plate on a stick.

  She brushed her hair back from her eyes and looked at him.

  It was a naked handsome guy. Only this time he had a name.

  Joe Blake.

  And this time they were in her house, in her bedroom, in her bed. They’d eventually ended up in her bed, the king-size latex mattress that had felt so large and lonely these past few months was now the place she’d had her brains almost blow out by an orgasm – another one – which had just about curled her hair. If it didn’t, it should have.

  Who knew she was a sex-in-the-morning kind of person?

  There was a sexy grin on Joe’s lips. ‘I’m hungry.’

  ‘Well, good morning to you, too.’

  ‘I thought good morning was implied.’

  Anna laughed. ‘It was good. And it was in the morning. Both times.’

  ‘“Good”?’ Joe reached over and teased his fingers over her ribs. ‘Man, you’re a harsh critic. I was hoping for a better review than that.’

  ‘Could do better,’ Anna murmured when his fingers reached her nipple and tweaked it to attention. When he moved closer and pulled her close, kissed her, pressed himself against her, Anna realised why sex had never felt this good.

  It was because she’d never felt this free.

  ‘You’re incredible, you know that, Anna—?’

  ‘Anna?’

  Either Anna was experiencing a sudden bout of tinnitus or there were actually two people saying her name at the same time. One in her ear, so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. The other, from the hallway outside her bedroom.

  She let out a huge, frustrated merda.

  Sometimes, rarely but some
times, she wished she was an orphan, especially when she was still groggy from sex and she had a naked handsome guy in her bed. Now she would have to wipe that happy glow from her brain and her face and find her good Italian daughter perkiness.

  ‘Who’s that?’ Joe asked.

  Anna closed her eyes and uttered in a resigned whisper, ‘It’s my mother.’ She gently pushed herself out of Joe’s arms and sat up. It took her half a minute to get her balance, not just in her shaky knees but in her head. She knew Joe was watching her hips sway as she walked over to the walk-in robe and grabbed her silk dressing gown. When she emerged, having covered herself and secured it tightly around her waist, Joe was looking at her with an expression that revealed he had absolutely no clue what was going on. It was adorable.

  ‘Hang on. Did you say your mother? Did she break in? What’s she doing here?’

  ‘She’s probably brought me some food,’ Anna whispered. ‘She’s been doing that the past few months.’

  Joe propped himself up on an elbow. ‘You’re mother just comes barging in to your house on a Sunday morning?’

  Anna walked to the edge of the bed, leaned over and gave him a smacking kiss on the lips. ‘She has a key. Now don’t move a muscle or make a sound.’

  ‘Hang on. Your mother has a key. To your house.’

  Anna scoffed and flicked a hand through his hair. ‘You are so not Italian.’

  She quietly closed the door behind her but it didn’t block out the animated conversation Joe could hear from the other side of the doorway. He lay back, linking his fingers behind his head and thought about what Anna had just said.

  It wasn’t about not being Italian. He simply wasn’t part of a family. He and Lizzie had spent almost the past twenty years living in different parts of Australia, although it had been nice to be her big brother again since he’d moved back to Middle Point. But it was very different to the sense of Anna’s family that he’d picked up the night before at the engagement party. Grace had interrogated him. Luca had glared at him like he’d wanted to tear him limb from limb. Anna’s parents’ attitude was, let’s be frank, cool. Cool? It was damn near Arctic. And that Nonna was a piece of work. When she’d glared across the table and trained her wizened old eyes on Joe, he’d had the uncomfortable feeling that he would never be able to tell another lie in his life without her knowing about it.