Meet Me in the Middle (Wattle Valley, #2)

by Jacquie Underdown

  Neve would watch her mum, step by step, apply make-up and Neve would copy her with her own kid’s make-up kit. Mum would do Neve’s hair and put it up in a beautiful French roll or a braid. Neve always thought that they looked so glamorous.

  Of course, Mum never let Neve go out with a face full of make-up at that age; it was all for the fun of it. But as Neve grew older, that fun turned into a passion. And now that she was an adult, a profession.

  She ran a mobile make-up artistry business here in Wattle Valley, though she serviced most of the Gippsland region too. And out of this very room, she made make-up tutorial videos for her YouTube channel.

  That’s what Emily was here for today. They were going to record her trial wedding make-up session and upload it to Neve’s channel as a part of the wedding series she had running.

  Neve gestured Emily take a seat while she strode around the room setting up the lighting and adjusting the camera and monitor. She took a seat beside Emily and organised all the palettes and brushes she would need for today.

  ‘You ready?’ she asked Emily with a smile. Those excited nerves she always got just before shooting a video were storming in her belly.

  ‘As I’ll ever be.’

  ‘You’re not camera shy, are you?’

  Emily arched a brow and smirked. ‘Oh, please. You forget I spent three months in front of the camera getting my life picked apart on Catch Me a Cowboy. I can handle this.’

  ‘Perfect.’ Neve had a beautiful canvas to work with today. Emily was gorgeous, with flawless skin, the most jewel-like honey-brown eyes, and strong symmetrical features.

  She pressed a hand to the scar on her own cheek, feeling the knotted indent beneath her finger. Flawless, Neve wasn’t anymore. Her car accident had left many scars, not only on her face. But that was okay. It could have been worse—she could have died. She could have ended up like Joshua, her ex, who had never quite shaken off the damage of the brain injury he acquired.

  Neve planted a smile on her face and allowed herself to fall into that fizzy artistic zone that was her bliss. ‘Lights, camera …’ She hit record on her laptop. ‘Action!’

  Chapter 4

  Thursday afternoon, Anders stood on the football field in the late afternoon sun. Sunny days were life-giving during the winter months, though it didn’t do much to shake off the cold.

  A bunch of six-year-olds chatted, laughed and buzzed around him, interspersed with parent helpers, haphazardly kicking footballs to each other and doing their best to mark them.

  These were his current group of Auskick kids. Despite their young age, AFL in Victoria was serious business. Until he was twelve, Anders had lived in Queensland. He learned quickly that in places like Wattle Valley, AFL clubs were the lifeblood of small Victorian towns. And since picking up his first Sherrin mere weeks after moving here, it became his lifeblood too.

  Football had shaped his life—still did.

  He announced to the kids to line up in two rows facing each other and to stand a little closer. They never stopped moving, either rocking their bodies from side to side, jumping up and down or twisting their hands together. Their eyes shifting from him to a bird, to the clouds, to their mate behind them, back to him.

  Anders demonstrated to them again, the correct handballing technique. How to swing the arm forward, punch the footy off the top of their closed fist, and where to aim.

  A young girl put her hand up high.

  ‘Yes, Renee.’

  ‘My mummy said she comes to my Auskick so she can watch you.’

  ‘Is that right? Well, I’m just glad you’re here learning how to play AFL.’ He tried his hardest not to make eye contact with Renee’s mum who was standing on the outskirts of the group, but he couldn’t help it. Her cheeks were flushed pink.

  He gave an ‘I get it—kids are big mouths’ look, but her gaze skittered away and she was suddenly deeply interested in a spot on her jumper sleeve.

  ‘My daddy said you couldn’t make it in the big AFL, that’s why you’re here coaching us,’ said Johnny, the smallest boy on the squad. His dad wasn’t much bigger. As a tall man, it was these guys he tended to cop the most flak from. But, whatever, he’d dealt with worse. And, in a way, it was true; he hadn’t made it in the AFL. No use getting defensive over things he couldn’t control.

  ‘Well, aren’t you all lucky that happened because now you have a coach who loves to teach you everything you need to know about footy?’

  The kids all nodded and grinned.

  Meredith put her hand up. ‘My mum says her boobs are pikelets … I mean pancakes—’

  ‘All right!’ Anders said. The kids burst into laughter. ‘That’s enough. We won’t learn anything standing around and talking all day.’ He definitely did not make eye contact with Meredith’s mum.

  The kids began the drill, and he walked along the rows watching their performance and giving praise or help where needed. He noticed Short Dad kept his distance and Meredith’s mum now preferred to watch from her car with the sun visor down.

  Mostly, Anders loved his job—AFL coordinator for the local region. He travelled to all the schools on a six-week rotation offering AFL clinics for high schools and ran Auskick for primary schools. A few times a year, he also coached weekend AFL clinics for development squads, and he ran training and organised try-outs and testing days.

  Half-sized footies were flying everywhere, few of them making it to the chests of their partner, and when they did, fewer caught them. But this age group was his favourite. Egos, embarrassment, and obviously a filter, weren’t a part of their brain structure yet. He loved to watch their little serious faces as they worked with their growing bodies, trying to get it to do what their minds could picture so clearly.

  He ended the session with a quick half-field game, where the kids swarmed whoever managed to get the ball like a flock of seagulls chasing a chip. But they were laughing and giving it their best, which, at this age, was what he liked to see most. Skill would come with time and practice, but the love for the game needed to happen first.

  Anders dismissed the kids to their waiting parents and rushed to the locker rooms to change his clothes before training. He was ruckman and captain of the local club, the mighty Wattle Valley Lions.

  A few teammates were inside already, in various stages of undress. Change rooms in country towns weren’t anything flash—this one was no different—a cement floor, plain Besser block walls painted white and a bench seat that ran the length of three walls.

  ‘Anders, mate, how are ya?’ Jager said as he sat on the long bench lacing his boots. Jager was half a head shorter than Anders—still tall by any measure—though more solidly built. His hair was sandy blond and his eyes were blue, just like his sister—traits they both inherited from their mother.

  ‘Good,’ Anders said.

  They were getting to the pointy end of the season, only a couple of months until the finals. They may get there this year. A few seasons had passed since they’d come close, but they had managed to keep most of their team’s players together for a good few years now and had some young talent coming up from the juniors, so they had a decent team that worked well together.

  Anders stripped off his jumper and shirt and threw on a long-sleeved training jersey. He rummaged through his bag for his footy boots, took a seat and started changing his joggers over.

  ‘I heard you were going to be partnered with Neve for Wil’s wedding,’ Jager said, not meeting Anders’ gaze, instead focusing on lacing his boots.

  Anders had received a call from Emily last night to let him know. He was happy with the combination; he didn’t really know the other bridesmaids as they were friends of Emily’s who lived in Melbourne.

  ‘Yeah, that’s right. Should be a good day.’

  Silence entered the change rooms. Anders kept his head down for as long as he could, too aware that Jager wanted to get something off his chest. When he couldn’t, with self-respect, avoid Jager’s attention any longer, he lifted hi
s head.

  ‘And what’s this get-together Emily has organised?’ Jager asked.

  Anders shrugged. ‘Not sure. She didn’t give any details. Said it was a surprise. Something about needing our interactions to be natural because the crew from Catch Me a Cowboy are going to be recording some footage and taking photos. Not sure what type of poses they are expecting from us, but you know how weddings go.’

  Jager nodded, his lips never moving out of a semi-frown.

  Maybe Anders was reading the room wrong because, let’s be honest, he felt a tad guilty about Neve having caught him naked. Like he’d crossed a boundary. ‘That okay, mate?’

  Jager nodded, offered a wry smile, but there was a serious undertone to it. ‘I don’t need to tell you to approach Neve with the respect she deserves.’

  Anders’ chest flared with the heat of anger, and it caught him off guard. Fine, he got it, Jager had a right to be protective. Neve’s ex was a dick. And because of Joshua, Jager nearly lost his sister months after his mother’s stroke. But he wasn’t Joshua in any way. And Jager damn well knew that.

  ‘And maybe you need to back off a bit. I’ve never disrespected Neve in the past. I’m not going to start now because we’re attending a wedding together. That doesn’t suddenly turn me into some type of brute.’

  Jager stood and came closer, standing over him. Anders didn’t change the dynamics by standing up, as much at it infuriated him more, because, at the end of the day, Anders was his mate. He had a right to look out for Neve, even if this was over-the-top.

  Jager gave Anders’ shoulder a few manly smacks. ‘Just making sure we’re on the same page.’

  ‘You’ve nothing to worry about.’

  Jager nodded. ‘I know. See you out on the field.’

  Anders growled low in his chest once Jager was out of earshot. Jager knew him better than anyone else. They had been mates since the first day of grade seven when Anders turned up at Wattle Valley Primary School, lost and unconfident.

  Jager never gave him shit because he didn’t have it all together; he liked him regardless of his flares of anger that hid the pain of his past. Their friendship never wavered, and they didn’t keep anything from each other.

  Had Jager intuited what Anders wasn’t willing to admit—that he had entertained some intimate thoughts about Neve?

  Get her out of your head, Anders, because this will not end well if you don’t.

  ***

  ANDERS: Hi Neve. Don was released from hospital today. He’s doing well and is resting up at home.

  NEVE: Great news! Thanks for letting me know. I’ll try and pop in to see him over the weekend. See you at rehearsals tonight.

  ANDERS: Looking forward to it.

  ***

  The wedding rehearsal was held at the local Wattle Valley Uniting Church—a well-maintained but quaint timber building set on a large block in the centre of the small town.

  Generations of local residents had been married in this church. Anders would too when the time came. A pleasant aim despite the zigzagging route he’d taken so far trying to achieve it.

  Marriage was a big deal. It wasn’t an arrangement to be taken lightly, and he planned to do it only once.

  His parents separated when he was ten, and his mum fled to Victoria, back to her parent’s dairy farm to find her feet. Anders didn’t see his mum for two years after that.

  His dad, a berry farmer on the Sunshine Coast in Queensland, was a rough, domineering man. He was also a mean, ugly, often violent drunk and had refused Mum access. But Anders didn’t know that at the time. He thought Mum had deserted him.

  There was no greater tragedy than believing your own mother didn’t want you anymore.

  Three weeks after the divorce had settled, his dad had met and married his new wife—a stern woman, Maggie, whose small, delicate frame was in contrast to the overbearing personality housed inside. They clashed—mostly because it felt like Maggie didn’t want him around. In hindsight, he was right to believe that.

  When the discontent in his home leaked into his school life, and barely a week passed without him getting into schoolyard fights and causing all kinds of trouble for his teachers, his fed-up father packed Anders’ bags and sent him on the first flight out of there.

  He was anxious to see his mother again and furious at her, but the moment he stepped into the arrival’s lounge of the airport and her eyes brightened when she saw him, and she ran to him, embracing him with such voracity he thought he would be squeezed to death, and she cried and laughed with such relieved jubilance, confirmed that she had never stopped loving him.

  Life got better from then on. Mum had a new partner—Tony—an honest, fair and kind man, who had a big impact on Anders. He finally got to witness how real families operated, how they loved each other, and how real men behaved. He learned the benefits of loyalty, compassion and trust. From then on, he knew that he must settle for nothing less than that for himself.

  To see Wil and Emily interact tonight during the rehearsal with reverence and adoration in every glance and touch, they epitomised all that Anders wanted and cemented his own desires for a stable, loving relationship.

  When the rehearsals were over, the small bridal party of eight stood in the car park, the damp and frosty night air needling through their clothes. Anders was curious about what Emily had planned for them.

  He cast a sideways glance at Neve, who, despite being rugged up in jeans, boots, a thick jacket, scarf and a beanie, was bouncing up and down trying to stave off the winter chill. He had the sudden urge to move closer, press his body to hers and wrap her in his arms for warmth.

  Where did that come from?

  He squeezed his eyes shut and blew out a long breath as he stepped farther away. All through the ceremony rehearsal, he had been so good, barely giving Neve any more consideration than would be expected from friends who were thrown together for one day only as partners in a wedding.

  After Jager’s confrontation at training yesterday, he wouldn’t dare give himself or Neve any reason to believe that he had been having ideas that they could be something more than friends.

  How wickedly flimsy and unpredictable was his primal biology that after one naked encounter with Neve, the entire way he viewed her had changed. Sure, he had always known she was a beautiful woman, but it was as though he’d not allowed his mind to see past the fact that she was his friend’s little sister.

  Untouchable little sister.

  Just how touchable she was now screamed at him.

  ‘All right, as you know,’ said Emily, ‘I’ve organised an activity for us all to get to know each other better before the wedding. Everyone into the minivan.’

  They loaded themselves into the van, Anders choosing a seat beside one of the groomsman. Anders’ Uncle, who was Wil’s dad, was designated driver, so they could all indulge in some light drinking.

  They were driven down Main Street, which at this time of night was only lit up by dim streetlights. They headed along the beaten road that cut through countryside, washed in the shadows of night. The van’s headlights stirred puffs of mist that floated above the road and surrounding paddocks.

  Before too long, it was obvious they were headed to the Parker Family Farm—specifically Wil and Emily’s house.

  When there, they were shuffled out of the van and towards an enormous shed Wil had on his property—the location of the wedding reception next weekend. The shed wasn’t like normal farm sheds. No, this was built-in, lined, heated, fitted with a long bar, and functional for entertaining only.

  With many of the scenes in Catch Me a Cowboy being filmed in this very shed and telecast to Australia, it was practically iconic.

  Neve strode up beside him as they approached the shed and narrowed her eyes quizzically at him. ‘What are we doing?’ she mouthed.

  He shrugged. ‘No idea.’

  As they made it to the door, Neve pressed her hands to his hips, her chest to his back and peered around his shoulders at what awa
ited them inside.

  The heat of her touch travelled all through his body, setting him ablaze. He ached to nestle back into her warmth and lose himself in this embrace.

  ‘Come on in,’ Emily said, beckoning with her hand. ‘Let’s get started.’

  ‘Nude drawing?’ Neve guessed, coming to his side, though her hand still fluttered lightly at his back.

  Four easels with a big blank canvas on each were spaced throughout the room. ‘Could be,’ he said with a shrug.

  She grinned wickedly and her mouth drifted closer to his ear. ‘You could be our muse. Something I’m sure you’d be good at.’ She ended with a laugh, and he couldn’t help but chuckle himself.

  ‘Cheeky.’

  She tapped his butt and strode off ahead of him into the toasty warmth inside.

  Chapter 5

  Each couple had taken a seat on a stool facing one another. Artists sat before the canvases, their view of each couple blocked by a big screen.

  ‘Blind portraits,’ Emily said with a giggle as she placed a bottle of champagne on a small table set up beside each pair. ‘And lots of champagne.’

  Neve met Anders’ gaze and smiled, but her cheeks flushed with heat.

  ‘You’ll take turns describing your partner to the artist so that your artist will be able to paint your partner’s portrait as accurately as possible.’

  ‘Okay, I can see how this would allow people to get to know each other,’ Neve said, the nerves in her belly tight as a band. She could foresee the intimacy in tracing every part of Anders’ face with her gaze, then him doing the same to her.

  ‘Of course, there will be prizes for the most accurate portraits.’

  Anders’ brows arched high—his competitive spirit shone in his eyes. ‘We’ve got this.’

  ‘Yep.’ She cleared her throat and shifted on her stool as she pressed a finger to her top lip—at the hard meshing of scar tissue.