No kidding.
Chapter 2
Anders pushed through the front door of his home and gestured Neve take a seat at the dining table, then he quickly moved the basket of clean laundry.
‘A cup of tea?’ he asked.
She nodded.
Poor Neve’s face was pale. She hadn’t uttered a single word as they had made their way back from Don’s. For his day job, Anders coached kids, so he had completed myriad first aid courses over the years. All that training kicked in the moment he saw Don collapsed on the driveway.
Neve, on the other hand, didn’t have that training and considering the traumatic experiences she has endured over the past few years, it had obviously crept up and shaken her about.
The blood pooling on the driveway wouldn’t have helped. Especially after the dog incident. Not to mention the humiliating fact that Anders was naked when she charged into his house earlier.
Heat rose up his neck and into his cheeks remembering the moment she burst through the door. He had frozen on the spot, everything hanging out for all the world to see. It wouldn’t have been an issue with any other person, but with Neve, it seemed to transgress unstated but firmly set boundaries.
She was Jager’s little sister. He had known Neve since he was twelve years old. Sure, she was a grown woman now with all the grown-up womanly components, but it still felt … wrong?
Don’t misunderstand him, Neve was gorgeous—long blonde hair, big blue eyes and a strong, curvaceous body—and under normal circumstances, he’d love a sexy woman to burst through his front door and catch him starkers. But Neve wasn’t any usual beautiful woman—there was a big complication. Namely, her big brother.
He shook his head to clear the thoughts away. Don had been taken to the hospital and here he was fixating on the fact his best mate’s little sister copped an eyeful of him in his birthday suit.
Priorities, Anders.
He made two cups of tea, placed one in front of Neve. Her eyes were clearer now—that was a good sign. And the shaking had stopped, judging by the firm hands gripping the teacup.
He took a seat opposite her at the dining table and cradled his cup. ‘Feeling a little better?’
She nodded. ‘I … I’m not great with dealing with this kind of thing anymore. Not since Mum. Not since my car accident.’ Without her even seeming to realise, she traced a fingertip along the pink scar that ran from her forehead, through her eyebrow and farther down her cheek to the top of her lip.
Neve’s mum had suffered a major stroke two-and-a-half years ago. From what Jager had told him, Neve was the one who had found her. Mrs Mitchell had survived, which, considering the barely functioning shell she was now, requiring full-time nursing care, may not have been the kindest outcome.
Then, barely six months after that, Neve and her ex-boyfriend were in a major car accident. She was lucky to come out of that alive, though she didn’t escape the scars. Scars that were not only physical going by today’s reaction.
‘That’s understandable, Neve. Don’t beat yourself up. Don is now in the best of care. And you had a big part to play in that.’
Neve blew out a long breath. ‘You were so calm.’
He chuckled. ‘On the inside. I felt a bit robotic, to be honest.’
She shook her head. ‘You were great.’
He lowered his face to hide the heat of modesty creeping along his cheeks. When he met her gaze again, tears were wetting her eyes. He frowned.
Her watery chuckle held a strong edge of self-consciousness and apology as she rubbed her hands across her eyes, wiping the tears away. ‘I’m so sorry. This is ridiculous. I hadn’t realised it was all sitting below the surface. Seeing Don kinda brought it all back.’
He leant over the table and placed his hand on top of hers. ‘Neve. It’s okay. I understand.’
She glanced at their hands. Her attention amplified the heat of their connection. To touch her, even in this small way, felt like … more. He slowly withdrew his gesture and smiled sympathetically.
Neve sipped her tea. ‘So you’re going to head up to the hospital later?’
‘I’ll give them time to treat Don and book him in. I could swing by and pick you up and we can go together if you like?’
She shook her head. ‘I’d rather avoid hospitals if I can. Please text me, though, to let me know how Don is once you’ve seen him?’
‘Sure. No worries.’
Neve sighed deeply, pushed her chair back and stood. ‘I better get home.’
‘I’ll drop you off, hey?’
‘Thanks. I’m not much in the mood to run anymore.’
Anders drove to Jager’s house, which Neve had lived in with him for the past eighteen months. It was a quaint three bedroom low-set brick house with the endless countryside as their backyard. He pulled into the long gravel driveway and dropped the gearstick into neutral.
‘You won’t tell Jager about seeing me naked, will you?’
Neve laughed. ‘It wasn’t your fault I barged in …’ She looked away.
‘I know, but Jager might read something into it if he knew. You know what he’s like.’ Massively over-protective where Neve was concerned, especially since the car accident. Neve’s ex had been drink-driving. To say Jager’s level of trust when it came to men who dated Neve was low was a massive understatement.
‘I won’t tell him.’ She stepped out of his ute and leant back in. ‘Thanks for your help with the dog.’
‘No worries. Anytime. Except for the whole naked thing, maybe we could, you know, skip that next time.’
She giggled. ‘See ya.’
‘Bye.’
And she shut the door.
The last thing he wanted to do and tried to stop himself from doing was ogle his friend’s little sister as she made her way to her front door. But Neve was gorgeous, dressed in tight black running pants and a snug-fitting hoodie. Her blonde hair was pulled into a messy ponytail that hung to the middle of her back.
She was fit yet still held onto curves. All at once, a thousand images flooded his brain of gripping those curvaceous hips in his hands—preferably minus her clothes.
Where the hell did that thought come from?
Anders slammed his palm against the steering wheel and groaned, but he accidentally hit the horn and it blared in the silent morning.
Neve spun, a questioning look on her face.
‘Bloody hell.’ His face was hot as he lowered the window and stuck his head out. ‘Nothing, it was an accident,’ he called out to her.
She nodded, waved and turned back towards the house.
As he drove away, despite what his body was saying, he declared that Neve was off limits. No matter how gorgeous she was, he didn’t need that sort of complication in his life.
***
ANDERS: I went to see Don. He’s doing well. He bumped his head pretty hard and has a concussion, but the doctors think he’ll be fine soon enough. I’m going to head to the hospital again tomorrow for a visit.
NEVE: Oh, thank goodness he’s okay. Thanks for letting me know!
Chapter 3
Neve’s stomach twisted with that familiar sinking dread as she and Jager drove to the nursing home to visit their mother. And always mixed with that feeling was a tangled dose of guilt. Not once did these feelings evade her.
‘Nervous?’ Jager asked, taking his eyes off the road to look at her.
She frowned, nodded. ‘Always.’
‘Me too.’ Neve could tell. The entire thirty-minute drive, she hadn’t missed her brother’s deep exhalations, almost like a sigh, every time his mind obviously wandered towards their mother.
They found a park outside the tired, boxy building and headed up to Mum’s room. These long halls of squeaky linoleum and offshoots of rooms always smelled the same—a mixture of cleaning products, boiled meat, veggies, and the faintest hint of urine.
Neve’s belly wobbled as she rounded into Mum’s room behind Jager. Only a small, square room filled with a couple
of chairs, a big metal-framed bed with a side table, and some bookshelves.
‘Hi, Mum,’ Jager said cheerily. But beneath that jovialness was an undercurrent of grief. Neve could recognise it in her brother because it existed within her—the loss that always struck her when she saw the shrunken, twisted form of her mother and remembered the beautiful, quick-witted woman she once was.
Such a strange contradiction of emotion to miss someone who was right in front of her.
‘Morning, Mum,’ Neve said, rushing over to her sagging frame as she sat in a wheelchair by the window. Mum’s head moved in that undirected way that had no purpose other than to let Neve and Jager know that she knew they were there.
She kissed Mum’s forehead and pushed stray strands of greying hair off her face. Hair that was once the vibrant blonde colouring of Neve’s.
The left side of Mum’s face and body were paralysed and the right side was at odds with that. Though she was barely fifty-years-old, these days she looked twenty years older.
Neve’s heart tugged as all the sentiments she had felt since her mum’s stroke churned through her mind: what a waste, what a terrible shame that this had happened to someone as beautiful, kind and loving as her mother.
‘We’ve missed you these last couple of days,’ Neve said, turning Mum’s chair around and wheeling it closer to the spare chairs next to the bed.
She took a seat beside Jager. His ankle rested on his knee, the bottom leg bouncing up and down.
They chatted to Mum, letting her know about the mundane moments in their lives over the past couple of days since they had last visited. Mum couldn’t manage words anymore due to the paralysis and her compromised swallowing function, but she did make sounds enough that they knew she understood.
‘You want me to do your hair?’ Neve asked.
Mum’s movements were emphatic, and Neve smiled at her brother. They both knew Mum loved getting her hair done, even now. Especially now.
Mum was an actress back in the day. She never did anything more than a few commercials and small-time appearances on a couple of TV shows, but make-up, hair and dressing-up were always a passion. All the old family photos were snapshots of how beautiful Mum was.
Right up until the stroke, Neve would notice how men couldn’t help but turn their heads when she strode by.
Neve’s throat bobbed, hurt—always did when she thought about how one small blood clot could lodge in the brain, cause so much damage, and wither away the most important person in her life.
Neve stood behind her mum and gently brushed her hair for a long while. Jager filled the silence with moments from his week and little memories of when they were all a happy unit, together.
For as long as she could remember, it had always been the three of them. Dad hadn’t been in the picture since Neve was four; she couldn’t even put a face to his name anymore.
Neve slid the brush from Mum’s forehead all the way down to the ends of her hair. Mum used to do this for her when she was a little girl, and Neve would love the attention and intimacy. Too soon this role had now fallen to her. Much too soon.
‘So, Mum, would you like me to put your hair up?’ Of course, she didn’t expect an answer, so started to work the thinning strands into a loose ponytail then tied it off with a hairband. She sprayed some hairspray.
Neve always kept a small make-up purse here for Mum with her favourite lipsticks. She could barely recall a day that her mum ever left the house without a different coloured lipstick on.
‘Coral pink today, Mum? What do you think? It’s quite on trend at the moment,’ Neve said, rummaging through the purse for the right colour and a lip brush.
As Jager continued to make one-sided conversation, Neve brushed a light coating of lipstick across Mum’s misshapen lips. She brushed up her brows with a little clear gel and dusted her cheeks with pale pink blush.
Stepping back to assess her mother, she ignored the push of painful emotion that pinched the back of her throat and forced a smile. ‘You look like a beautiful actress again.’ She kissed Mum’s cheek.
They sat together for a while longer until Mum drifted off to sleep, then they made their leave.
The drive home was solemn as it always was. No hope existed anymore, not where Mum was concerned. Neve had been too late to find her that day. Too much damage had occurred before Mum got the medical help she needed.
The long-lasting consequences—an endless parade of complications and infections—and the high risk of having another stroke, meant for their mum, it was simply a matter of time before the lights went out.
Neve’s heart hurt to think about what she had ahead of her to endure. She wasn’t ready for it. Even though she had lost a version of her mother already, she would never be ready to say goodbye for good.
The endless green paddocks that flanked the road sped by behind a blur of tears.
Jager rested a hand on her shoulder. He didn’t say anything and she didn’t look at him, but his touch was a comfort.
With Mum emotionally and physically unavailable, Jager was the only family she had left. They had banded together and tried to withstand this part of their lives the only way they knew how.
Back at home, Neve’s friend Emily was already parked in the drive, sitting on the hood of her car. She waved when Jager pulled into the drive.
Neve shook off the day, fixed a smile on her face and waved back. She was good at this—pushing aside that endless ache inside and simply getting on with the act of living.
‘Hi, Emily,’ Jager said, climbing out of the car. ‘Good to see you. Getting nervous about the big day?’
Emily had met the love of her life, Wil, on a reality dating show called Catch Me a Cowboy two years ago. They were going to marry in a fortnight, and Neve was not only the contracted make-up artist but one of the bridesmaids.
Emily grinned. ‘Not nervous at all.’
‘Good to hear.’
‘I’m not too early, am I?’ Emily asked Neve.
Neve shook her head. ‘Not at all. Come on inside.’
They headed into the house and hovered in the living room as Neve put her bag down and Jager unloaded his pockets of his wallet and keys.
‘So, I’ve decided that I’m going to pair you up with Anders for the wedding,’ Emily said. ‘Seeing as you both know each other already.’ Anders was Wil’s cousin and they were really close. Wil had asked him to be one of the groomsmen.
Neve’s heart thudded. After the naked-Anders incident earlier this morning, she felt like she had a dirty little secret to keep. But, also, knowing she was about to spend an entire day with Anders gave her a small rush of excitement that startled her.
Emily lowered her voice, narrowed her eyes, looking much more intently at Neve’s reaction. ‘Is that okay?’
Neve managed a nonchalant smile and an easy-as-it-goes voice. ‘Of course it is.’
‘I’ll have to give him The Talk beforehand,’ Jager said.
‘You will not be having a talk with anyone,’ Neve said. ‘Gees, Jager, it’s a bloody wedding, not a date.’
Jagers’ lips twitched; he chuckled. ‘It was a joke.’
Neve looked sidelong at Emily, too aware now of her overreaction, which anyone could see was most likely due to Neve having an incredibly new, teeny tiny, completely superficial crush on Anders.
But who wouldn’t after seeing him in all that tall, tanned, sculpted glory. It wasn’t like she was going to pant after him now like some puppy. She could simply appreciate the nuances of that ridiculously carved body of his.
She wondered how he would look on the day of the wedding, standing at the end of the altar, dressed in a suit—tall and broad and …
‘Anders is a top bloke. I trust him,’ Jager said.
Maybe that was the real reason for this incy wincy crush. This morning, Neve had witnessed a selfless, caring and calm-under-pressure side of Anders she hadn’t seen before. Sure, he was always friendly, but this was different.
He had,
without question, gone to protect her from that dog even though he believed, initially, thanks to her inaccurate account, it was a rabid beast. And then there was the Don incident and how Anders made sure Neve was okay afterwards.
She’d be lying if she didn’t admit that in those moments, to her, he was a bit of a hero. Anders and hero had never entered her mind before, nor the fact that she found his strength as sexy as all hell.
Neve turned to Emily. ‘Let’s get started on this make-up, shall we?’
Emily touched her hand to Neve’s forearm. ‘Just quickly. While we’re on the topic of Anders and the wedding. I’m going to have an impromptu get-together after the rehearsal, so we can all get to know each other better.’
‘Right. Okay. So, like, what, a few drinks or something?’
Emily tapped the side of her nose and grinned mischievously. ‘Nope. It’s a surprise.’ She glanced at Jager and laughed at his dubious expression. ‘It’s nothing bad, Jager. All above-the-belt.’
Not that above-the-belt didn’t leave a lot of really great stuff to work with where Anders was concerned. After a lifetime of playing and coaching AFL, he had spectacular arms and shoulders …
Neve cleared her throat and turned away to hide the heat creeping up her cheeks. ‘Sounds like fun. Now let’s get started on your make-up.’
Neve opened the door to her studio and Emily’s smile grew wider. Tall lighting was set up around the room. A camera focused on two chairs and a long desk, both placed in front of a big blank screen that hung on the wall. Myriad eyeshadow palettes, lipsticks, foundations, eyeliners, primers, beauty sponges, brushes and setting sprays were ordered in containers, boxes, and drawers. The perfumed powdery scent of cosmetics filled the room.
‘Have I ever told you how much I love this room?’ Emily said with a squeal. ‘It’s like make-up heaven.’
Neve grinned as she surveyed the room. ‘Isn’t it just?’
This kind of set-up was always her dream and even after so many years of it now being her reality, the wonderment she experienced as a little girl still filled her.
Her favourite memories were from when she was six or seven and she would sit beside Mum in her bedroom at a desk that had a mirror with a border of lightbulbs. The bench chair they sat on together was pink satin and to Neve’s young mind, fabulously luxurious.
Meet Me in the Middle (Wattle Valley, #2) Page 2