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

by Jacquie Underdown

  ‘I want to make something of myself. And besides, I’ve got bills to pay. The quicker I can get out from under Jager’s feet, the better.’

  His brow furrowed. ‘Has he said he wants you to move out?’

  She shook her head. ‘Not at all. And I love him to pieces, but I think I’m starting to outstay my welcome. He’s a single guy. He doesn’t want his sister cramping his style forever.’

  ‘I suppose not. Though, if it makes you feel any better, he has never mentioned that he doesn’t want you there or that things are getting cramped. Not once.’

  ‘That’s good to know. Thanks.’

  She rested her fork on her bowl and had a sip of wine.

  ‘How is it?’ he asked.

  ‘Really good.’

  He winked. ‘Glad to hear it.’

  They finished their dinner and Anders brought out the bottle of wine from the kitchen and topped up their glasses.

  ‘Thanks, I might have to stop here if I want to drive myself home tonight.’

  ‘You could always stay the night,’ he said, hazel eyes glinting with promise.

  How those words moved through her body like caressing hands. She imagined how it would feel spending the night beside Anders and waking up to that big, hot body pressing against her tomorrow morning. Roiling anticipation in her belly.

  ‘I’ll see how I feel after this glass,’ she said with a giggle, though she could hear how her voice was a little breathless with arousal.

  He sat beside her and moved closer until their bodies were touching, his heat becoming her heat on this cool spring evening. He lifted his arm around her shoulders, as though they had done it a million times before, and she tucked into him, resting her head against his chest.

  ‘You’re trying to soften me up,’ she whispered with a grin.

  ‘Not at all. I like being close to you.’

  Good answer. He was full of them. She sipped her wine, enjoying the fruity pepperiness. Barely onto her second glass, and it was already going to her head. ‘We always seem to talk about my career. I want to know where you see yourself with your career.’

  She felt him hold his breath, his entire body tightening against her. ‘I haven’t really given it much thought,’ he finally managed.

  ‘Do you see yourself doing it for a while yet? Don’t you have a Bachelor of Education or something?’

  ‘Yeah, I do. I don’t know how long I’ll stay in it. I guess as long as I love it and my body can handle it.’

  She wiggled out from beside him. ‘In my head, I always saw you taking over the farm. You’d look pretty hot in a pair of coveralls and gumboots.’

  His smile was tense and it sparked her curiosity. ‘It’s still an option.’

  ‘Believe it or not, I actually thought about going into farm management like Jager.’

  He sat up taller. His eyes were wide. ‘You?’

  She laughed. ‘Don’t be fooled by all this,’ she said pointing to her freshly made-up face. ‘I’m not a princess. Well, not always a princess. When I was in high school, I loved staying at my next door neighbour Rachel’s house because we got to help her dad with farm chores. They raised sheep and some cattle. It was so different from my life. I was jealous she got to live on that big property with all those animals.’

  ‘I would never have guessed, though the passion must have come from somewhere for Jager to head in that direction.’

  ‘I think your parent’s farm was what gave him the bug. He would come home after a weekend spent with you and tell us all about how he helped milk beautiful long-lashed cows. Mum thought we were both mad. She could never see what we saw. Mum was from the city, and I can see now that she never truly adjusted to living here. But for two kids, Jager and I couldn’t have asked for a better place to grow up. Mum was always saying that we would be packing up and leaving as soon as the time was right. And I remember feeling so upset when I went to bed at night and would wish that we could stay just another year more. But we never did leave. When I told Mum I was thinking of farm management, Jager was really supportive of the idea, but Mum didn’t think her daughter should be doing laborious work.’

  ‘So you chose make-up artistry for her?’

  She shook her head. ‘I would have chosen agricultural management if I thought it was right for me, regardless of what Mum said. But, by then, I saw how tired Jager was by the time he got home and seriously considered if I was cut out for it. I loved make-up and I had a talent for it, so, in the end, I thought it was my best fit.’

  ‘Are you happy with your career choice?’ he asked.

  ‘I am. I love it. In a way, after my car accident, I think it saved me. I’m not sure any other profession could have. I get to give back and that makes what happened to me not feel so pointless.’

  He looked her in the eye, something serious yet unspoken was reflected in his gaze. ‘I think you’re an incredible woman, Neve.’

  Her cheeks flushed with heat. ‘Thank you.’

  She nestled back under his arm and tucked in close to his body while they finished their glass of wine. Sitting here with him, chatting, was warm and snuggly, and so very safe.

  When he got up to open another bottle, she didn’t resist. Her mind was made up—she would stay the night. While he was in the kitchen, she sent a text to Jager, so he wouldn’t worry about her when she didn’t come home.

  NEVE: Staying at a friend’s place tonight. See you tomorrow.

  With that, she flicked the phone onto silent and tucked it away in her bag.

  For hours they talked, drank wine, and laughed so much her stomach ached. He was so easy to be around. As they chatted deep into the night, she became more and more aware of one thing—she wanted Anders so much she ached.

  He looked at her then, his eyes burning with desirous intensity. Gaze never faltering, he grabbed her wine glass from her hand and placed it on the coffee table.

  Gentle fingers coaxed her hair off her shoulder and he rested his hand on the nape of her neck. The other firmly held her waist.

  Leaning in close, until she could feel the warmth of his gentle breath on her face, he tilted his head just right and kissed her.

  He tasted so good, like wine and everything she wanted right now, and with her irrationality muted by the dull warmth of alcohol sloshing through her veins, there were no other thoughts.

  Darts of heat swamped her as he laid back on the couch and pulled her on top of him. The passion between them ignited. He was hard already, straining against his jeans and pushing into her thigh.

  They kissed for so long, her lips tingled. When they no longer could bear the distance their clothes gave their bodies, they peeled them off, one by one, pausing to explore what lay bare beneath.

  ‘Shall we take this to the bedroom?’ he panted.

  She nodded.

  He stood, clasped her hand and lifted her from the couch. By the time they made it to his room, she was a ball of desire, flushed, wet and ready.

  Lying together on his bed, he touched her like she was the most valuable object he’d ever had in his possession. He treasured her. And she did the same to him, with her caress, each turn of her tongue, every kiss, she valued him.

  With her inhibitions dulled, she had more courage, felt free, taking him deep into her mouth until he was groaning, opening herself wide when his tongue met the heat between her thighs. She breathed and moaned and whispered against his body.

  When he entered her, she was floating, in sync with his powerful movements, building the pressure and pleasure between them, and she wondered why she was fighting this man.

  Did she seriously think that she could go her whole life never loving anyone again?

  She looked into his hazel eyes, soft from arousal, and opened her heart a little more to him. She allowed herself to feel all of him and consider him in her life now and into the future.

  Ahead of them lay bright possibility. She didn’t question that he was good and right—nothing like Joshua.

  �
��You are so beautiful,’ he whispered before taking her mouth with his.

  She kissed him deeply, loving his taste, letting him in that little bit more as he took her higher towards the stars. Bliss. Like living again. Like obeying the laws of the universe that said love was inevitable.

  She remembered how it felt to be open and careless with her heart. She remembered what it was like to feel with all of her. And for this moment, as long as it would last, that’s who she allowed herself to be.

  She saw them holding hands, late nights cooking together, watching movies on the weekend, and, dare she say it, love, so much love.

  Could she do this again?

  A powerful sensation built in her core. She was close. She gripped to him tightly, tore her mouth from his, and breathed through her climax, eyes closed, blissful.

  When she opened her eyes, he was watching her and all she had imagined—the love and affection—was everywhere in his gaze.

  But then he was coming inside her and his look transformed into one of pleasure.

  He lowered his body, still holding most of his weight on his arms, his head at her neck, his deep breaths against her flesh. He felt so good, the weight and the encompassing enormity of him—like everything she had ever wanted.

  Anders was in her reach, she just had to stretch her arms and take him.

  Could she?

  He rolled onto his side and she tucked herself under his arm, head on his shoulder. His breathing was laboured, chest rising and falling.

  She had to try, didn’t she?

  ‘I think I’m falling for you, Anders,’ she whispered, then held her breath as she awaited his reaction.

  He was still for a long time bar the gentle rising and falling of his chest and heavy thud of his heart beneath her ear. She lifted onto her elbow to look at him. He was smiling.

  She couldn’t help but grin too, because this was something she should be happy about. The fear still sat there on the edges, dampened by the effects of wine and these newly acknowledged emotions, but she had to ignore it. He’d given her no reason to fear him. Not one. Ever. And she’d known him a long time.

  ‘I didn’t expect to hear that especially after the way you ran away last time.’

  She sighed. ‘That’s why I ran away.’

  He pulled his arm out from under her and rolled to face her. His hand slipped from her bare shoulder down her arm. ‘I’m falling for you too, Neve. In fact, I think I already have.’

  She blinked. Blinked again. ‘Whatever this is,’ she said pointing from her chest to his, ‘has really got away from us, hasn’t it?’

  ‘Or we’re exactly where we need to be.’

  ‘I’m still scared,’ she whispered, hating herself for this side of her.

  ‘So am I.’

  ‘So what do we do about that?’

  ‘Nothing. I think it will become less important.’

  ‘What are you afraid of?’ she asked.

  He lowered his gaze to her lips before he looked her in the eyes and said, ‘That you don’t want me as much as I want you.’

  Her stomach tensed to hear such honesty. ‘I don’t want you to be scared of wanting me.’

  ‘Then let me fall as hard as I need.’

  ‘How? How do I do that?’

  ‘Don’t close yourself off. Don’t shut me out. Add some strings.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ she whispered.

  ‘That’s all I can ask for.’

  They made love again and this time she did as he asked. She opened her chest for him and let him reach inside to hold her heart. And what she found was that he held it with such care and grace as though it was the most precious jewel of all.

  Chapter 24

  Everything Anders had ever wanted was beside him as he woke. Neve’s warm body sank against him as he wrapped an arm around her sleeping form and cuddled her to him. He kissed her shoulder, her neck, the back of her head.

  Already he was hard, and he pushed that sensitive erection against the curve of her backside, trying to stop himself from groaning when the pleasure bit instantly.

  He wanted her again and again and again. This desire was endless, insatiable. She stirred and pushed back against him, and he let out a gruff sound of pleasure.

  His hand slid upwards towards her breast and he cupped the supple mound. Her nipple hardened, pressing into his palm. He couldn’t wait, rolled towards his dresser for a condom, then was right back against her.

  He ran his finger along her entrance—she was already swollen and wet. Her hips tilted towards him and that was all the agreement he needed before edging himself deep inside her. The pressure, the slickness and warmth, sent a pleasurable ache all through his body.

  He moved, slow at first, but when she made small sounds of pleasure, he quickened the pace, overcome. Usually, he would take his time, but he wasn’t mentally or physically capable this morning.

  She was so tight and giving, it destroyed his composure. His breaths hastened. A hot trail of desire rocketed through him and he quickened his pace, pushing harder. She tilted her hips more, taking him deeper, and he groaned against the back of her neck.

  ‘I could come already,’ he whispered, lifting her leg in the air and slinging it over his elbow. With his finger, he reached around to circle her clit, not letting up. He was getting close.

  And then she tightened and moaned and not a second too soon because he spilt himself deep inside her, his mind going hazy as his body bucked and pulsed.

  Three loud knocks sounded at the front door.

  ‘What the bloody hell now?’ he hissed between pants.

  ‘Ignore it,’ she whispered.

  The knocks came again, loud and insistent.

  ‘Fuck,’ he said, reluctantly pulling out of her.

  More knocks.

  ‘Anders! Anders!’ It was Jager. His words held urgency.

  ‘Does he know you’re here?’ he asked.

  She shook her head as she sat up.

  He dealt with the condom and rolled out of bed. ‘I better answer it.’ He threw on a pair of sweatpants and shut the door behind him as he rushed out to the foyer.

  The knocks didn’t let up, and his stomach twisted. This was not like Jager. Something had to be wrong.

  He opened the door wide to find Jager standing there, his face ashen, a mixture of fury and a frown shaping his lips.

  ‘What’s going on? Everything okay?’ Anders asked quickly, still a little breathless.

  Jager stepped inside, scrubbing a hand through his hair. ‘The nursing home rang me. Mum’s had another stroke. I’ve been at the hospital with her all night; it’s not looking good, and I can’t get a hold of Neve. She needs to be there. I need to get back before … Emily sent me a text just now saying Neve might be with you. I mean, I don’t understand. Is she here?’

  Anders scrubbed his jaw with his palm. ‘She’s here, mate.’ He turned and went to stride back up to the bedroom, but Neve was on her way out, dressed in one of his t-shirts.

  Anders only then remembered Neve’s clothes were strewn across the living room floor. His gaze flittered to the carpet.

  Jager’s eyes followed his, then he looked from Neve to Anders and back again. ‘What the fuck is happening here?’

  Neve didn’t answer just shook her head. Tears were in her eyes. ‘What’s wrong with Mum?’ Her voice sounded strange—strangled.

  Jager sighed. ‘She’s had another stroke.’ He had managed to make his voice calmer, more sympathetic. ‘It’s bad. She’s … it doesn’t look like she is going to make it. You need to get there—we need to get back there, so you can say goodbye.’

  ‘You’ve been there all night?’

  He nodded solemnly. His lips were shaking and his eyes were welling with tears. ‘I tried to get in contact with you, but you didn’t answer your phone.’

  She rushed into the living room and picked up her clothes. ‘I had it on silent. Let me get dressed and we’ll go.’

  He nodded, and she dashed u
p to the bedroom.

  Jager looked at Anders, not with disgust or anger, but with hurt. That expression enclosed around Anders’ heart like a squeezing fist. Guilt swarmed his bloodstream.

  ‘Do you want me to drive you there? Or bring you some coffee or breakfast—’

  Jager’s mouth twisted into a snarl. ‘If we miss the last moments of our mother’s life because of you, I will never forgive you. Ever. You’ve been lying to my face this entire time …’ he trailed off, shook his head. ‘I’ve got more important things to worry about right now.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ was all Anders could say. And he was, from the bottom of his heart, sorry to see the two people he cared so much about going through this.

  Neve came rushing past him, dressed in last night’s clothes; her hair was all over the place.

  ‘Let’s go. Quickly,’ she said.

  ‘If you need anything …’

  She looked back at Anders, face filled with pain and fear and something that bruised his heart—shame. He wanted to take her in his arms and be there for her, but with how this all played out, it was complicated beyond belief.

  Jager gently nudged her towards his waiting car, engine idling, exhaust puffing steam in the freezing morning air, and he didn’t look back.

  Anders stood there in the doorway, the chilled air needling into his bare arms and chest, and had a horrible sinking feeling that whatever he and Neve had just shared last night was now over. And so too was his friendship with Jager.

  He cleared the tightness creeping up his throat and shut the door behind him.

  ‘Fuuuuuucccccckkkkkk!’ he roared to the silent room. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,’ he said slamming his palms against the door.

  Why hadn’t he told Jager from the start?

  ‘Fuck!’

  He rubbed his hands down his face and let them drop to his sides. His shoulders rolled inward on his long exhalation. Why did he make Neve spend the night? She could have been there with her mother, not here with him.

  But he was selfish and couldn’t bear to have her run out so soon again, and he knew if they had a few drinks, she wouldn’t be able to drive home.

  The night was perfect, but it was wrong, and if she now missed out on saying goodbye to her mother because of him, not only would Jager never forgive him, but Neve wouldn’t either. And he would never forgive himself.