Tempted by Mr. Off-Limits

by Amy Andrews

  ‘It’s never been just a sex thing, Lola.’

  Her arms folded tighter, her lips flattened into a grim line. ‘It has for me.’

  A sudden rush of frustration propelled Hamish off the sink and across the kitchen, leaving only a couple of steps between them.

  ‘Please don’t lie to yourself, Lola. This is me, Hamish. I might not have known you for very long but I think you’ve let me in more than you’ve ever let anyone else in. You’ve told me about where you’re from and your family and how you never fitted in and your Great-Aunt May and you’ve taken me into your bed time after time after time, even though you’re the one-and-done Queen. Hell...you took me to your favourite place in Sydney. A place you’ve never taken anyone else. So don’t pretend that all we’ve been doing is having great sex because that’s ridiculous and we both know it.’

  Hamish was breathing hard by the time he’d got that off his chest but he wasn’t done yet either. If he was unloading everything, he should go all the way. He took the last two steps between them and slid his hands onto her arms and said, ‘And I think you have feelings for me too.’

  Now he was done.

  She gasped, her pinched mouth forming an outraged O as she wrenched out of his grasp, pushing past him to pace the kitchen floor. ‘Now you’re being ridiculous.’

  Hamish blinked at her vehement reaction. If he wasn’t so sure about their connection, her dismissiveness might have cut him to the quick. ‘Would it be so terrible, Lola?’ His gaze followed her relentlessly back and forth as he leaned his shoulder on the doorframe. ‘To let me love you? To let yourself fall in love with me?’

  She stopped abruptly, her hair flying around her head as she glared at him. If anything, she was even more furious, her chest rapidly rising and falling. ‘And how do you think that would work?’ she demanded, her eyes wild and fiery.

  ‘I don’t know... I hadn’t really thought about it.’

  She gave a small snort. ‘Well, think about it,’ she snapped. ‘Are you going to commute between here and Toowoomba or wherever the hell you end up?’

  Hamish rubbed his hand along his scruffy jawline. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Or are you going to move here?’

  The rejection of that notion tingled on his tongue in a second. Sydney was a great place to visit but it’d drive him mad to live here permanently. The thought made the country boy inside him shudder. Also, he’d be putting his dream for rural service on hold. Maybe indefinitely.

  But he could do it, especially if it meant being with her. ‘Yes.’ He nodded. ‘I would move here.’

  She gaped at him. ‘You’d just give up all your dreams?’

  ‘For you, yes.’ He could get new dreams. What he couldn’t ever get again was someone like Lola.

  She was the one.

  ‘If you were serious about being in a committed relationship with me,’ Hamish continued, his thoughts starting to crystallise. ‘Not if you’re just going to keep me for a few months and discard me when your next wild adventure calls you. I’m happy to live with you wherever you want, but I’m not going to be just some filler, Lola, somebody to occupy yourself with between jaunts. I’m not going to be your Sydney guy.’

  ‘God, Hamish...’ She shook her head and started to pace again. ‘I don’t want you to give up your dreams.’

  ‘Okay so...’ Hamish shrugged. ‘Come and live mine with me.’

  She halted again. ‘Oh, I see, so I’m supposed to follow you to Outer Whoop-Whoop.’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe... Why not?’ Hamish didn’t know, but surely it was worth giving them a shot?

  ‘Because I’m not going back to some speck on the map in the middle of bloody nowhere. I’ve paid my small-town dues, Hamish.’

  ‘I’m not talking about forever, Lola. I’m talking about a couple of years. That’s all. And it’s not like it was when you were growing up in Doongabi. There’s better roads and cars and more regional airports than ever being serviced by national carriers. Just because we might live in a small town, doesn’t mean you’re going to be stuck there. I’m not going to keep you a prisoner.

  ‘You want to go to the nearest city for a week of shopping, go for it. You want to fly to Sydney to see the ballet or Melbourne to watch the tennis or the Whitsundays to lie on a beach and get a tan—great.’

  She shoved her hands on her hips. ‘I’m going to Zimbabwe in April.’

  Hamish sighed. She was so damn determined to stay on the path she’d forged for herself. She been concentrating so hard on it she didn’t realise she could change direction or forge a whole new path and that was okay. ‘Then I’ll carry your bags.’

  She huffed out a breath, clearly annoyed by his logic. ‘And what about my job?’

  He shrugged. ‘Rural areas are desperate for nurses.’

  ‘But there won’t be an ICU in the middle of nowhere, will there? Why should I let my skills languish?’

  ‘Just because there won’t be an ICU, doesn’t mean there won’t be patients who require critical care from time to time. Who are going to depend on you and what you do with what you have to keep them alive until they can be transferred to a major hospital. Think of the challenge and the experience you could come away with. I’m looking on it as a means to becoming a better paramedic, to push me, to challenge me. It could be the same for you. When was the last time you were truly challenged at work?’

  An intensive care nurse had highly specialised skills but there was a lot of support in a big city unit with not a lot of autonomy.

  She folded her arms and regarded him for long moments, which was a nice change from pacing and glaring, and for a second Hamish thought he might have won her over. But finally she shook her head.

  ‘It’s not just about moving to a small town, Hamish.’

  He cocked an eyebrow. ‘What, then?’

  ‘I don’t want to tie myself to one person at all but if I did, it wouldn’t be a small-town guy. He’d have to be a kindred spirit. He’d have to have a gypsy soul, not someone who’s content to live a small life with a side of snowglobe tourism.’

  Her barbs struck him dead centre. She hadn’t hurled them at him but he felt the bite of them nonetheless and a spurt of anger pulsed into his system. He didn’t like her insinuation that because he wasn’t as well travelled as her, he was unadventurous and lacking ambition.

  Being happy with his life and his lot hadn’t ever been a negative in Hamish’s book. He’d never considered being content a bad thing and the fact that she was judging him for it was extremely insulting.

  He may not be worldly enough for her but he knew people didn’t get to pick and choose who they had feelings for—that just happened. And ignoring it was a recipe for disaster.

  Whether Lola wanted to or not, she did have feelings for him. Feelings he suspected scared the living daylights out of her. And not just because she had them but because he was the opposite of what she’d always told herself she wanted.

  Hamish took a steadying breath, shaking off her insult. ‘I think you do want someone to tie you down. That you don’t want to be a gypsy all your life.’

  She shook her head vehemently. ‘That’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard.’

  Hamish probed her gaze, holding hers, refusing to let her look away. The more he talked, the more convinced he was. ‘Is it? I’ve never pretended to be anything other than a small-town guy, Lola, and yet you went there anyway. If you didn’t really want this, want me, then why have you kept coming back? What the hell has this been?’

  She took a deep breath before levelling him with a serious gaze. ‘A mistake.’

  Hamish wouldn’t have thought two little words could have had so much power. Had she yelled them at him, he could have put it down to the heat of the moment, but she was calm and deliberate, her gaze fixed on his as she shot them at him like bullets from a gun.
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  He couldn’t speak for a beat or two. Hamish knew that whatever happened between them after today he would never categorise their interlude as a mistake. He would look back at it with fondness, not regret.

  But right now her rejection stung.

  He nodded slowly. ‘Right. Okay, then.’ He pushed off the doorframe. ‘I think I’m going to go and stay at Grace’s tonight.’

  There were only so many insults a man could take in one night. Lola had called him small town and insular and now a mistake. He couldn’t work out if he was angry with her or disappointed, but he couldn’t stay. They would either get into it more or they’d end up in bed together because sex seemed to be the only way they dealt with emotional situations.

  And he didn’t have the stomach for either.

  A little frown knitted her brows and she opened her mouth. For a second Hamish thought she might be going to retract everything but her mouth shut with an audible click and her chin lifted. ‘That might be best.’

  Hamish nodded. Her dismissal hurt but what else had he expected? ‘Merry bloody Christmas, Lola.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  IT WAS NINE that night when Lola answered the phone. She knew who it was before she even picked up. Aunty May always rang her on Christmas morning and where she was, in the Pyrenees, it was six in the morning.

  ‘Merry Christmas, sweetie.’ Her aunt’s voice crackled down the line, not as youthful as it had once been but still shot with an unflappability that was uniquely May.

  Lola almost burst into tears at its familiarity. She didn’t, but it was a close call as she cleared her throat and said, ‘Merry Christmas, Aunty May. How’s the skiing?’

  May launched into her usual enthusiastic spiel she went into when she was somewhere new and Lola was grateful for the distraction. She let her aunt talk, content to throw in the odd approving noise or question, not really keeping track of the conversation, her brain far too preoccupied.

  Ever since Hamish had walked out so calmly a few hours ago, Lola had been able to think of little else. It had been an incredibly crappy end to such a great day. From the second Grace had mentioned the L word it had started to go downhill and had slid rapidly south.

  Damn Grace.

  And damn Hamish for ruining it even further by backing up his sister’s outrageous claim. They’d had another week. They could be in bed right now, enjoying their last days together. Enjoying this day in the same way it had started.

  But he had to go and tell her he loved her. Tell her he knew she had feelings for him too! The fact that he was right—there was something between them, although it couldn’t possibly be love—had only compounded the situation.

  ‘It’s been a few years since I’ve done a black run but I’m very much looking forward to it.’

  Lola tuned back in. ‘It’s just like riding a bike.’ Aunt May had been skiing for the better part of fifty years—she could out-ski Lola any day.

  May burst out with one of her big, hooting laughs. ‘Been a while since I rode one of those too. Never mind... I’ve made some friends with a couple of hottie old widowers here so I won’t be alone.’

  And she launched into an entertaining description of the two gents in question in that irreverent way of hers that always kept Lola in stitches. Except for tonight. Because all Lola could think about was Hamish and how abominable she’d been to him.

  Yes, he’d admitted he loved her and that had been a shock, but he hadn’t deserved being told he was living a small life and that he was a mistake. As someone who’d made her fair share of mistakes she could confidently say none of them had felt as good as Hamish.

  She’d even opened her mouth to apologise, to take it back, but then she’d realised it had been the perfect shield to fight the sword of his L word and she’d left it. But she hadn’t liked herself very much.

  And she liked herself even less now.

  ‘Okay, sweetie. Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind?’

  Lola blinked. Aunty May was ten thousand kilometres away and they were speaking down a phone line but she still knew something was up. ‘What? Nothing.’ She forced herself to laugh. ‘I’m fine. Just a little tired, that’s all.’

  ‘Lola Gwendolyn Fraser. This is me. When will you learn you can’t fool your old Aunty May?’

  Lola gripped the phone. It was some kind of irony that a woman who had been largely absent from her life knew her so well. They had that kindred spirit connection.

  ‘Does it have anything to do with that guy who’s been staying with you? What’s his name again?’

  ‘Hamish.’ Even saying his name made Lola feel simultaneously giddy and depressed.

  ‘That’s right. Grace’s brother.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you’re in love with him?’

  ‘No!’ Tears blurred Lola’s vision. ‘I’ve only known him for two months.’

  There was silence for a moment. ‘You showed him your jacarandas, right?’

  Lola was beginning to wish she’d never told May or Grace that particular bit of information. ‘Yes, but I’m like you. A gypsy. We travel. We don’t fall in love.’

  ‘Poppycock!’

  Lola blinked at the rapid-fire dismissal.

  ‘It took me two minutes to fall in love with Donny.’

  Donny? Who the hell was Donny? And since when had her spinster aunt been in love with anyone? ‘Donny?’

  ‘The one great love of my life.’

  What the—? ‘I...didn’t know there’d been anyone.’

  It was a weird concept to wrap her head around—her spinster aunt in love with a man. Lola had no doubt she’d been highly sought after but May had always been staunchly single.

  ‘Well...it was a long time ago now.’

  The wistfulness in her great-aunt’s voice squeezed fingers around Lola’s already bruised heart. ‘What happened?’

  May said nothing for a beat or two as if she was trying to figure out where to start. ‘I was seventeen, working at the haberdashery in Doongabi, and this dashing young police officer moved to town. He was thirty. But when you know, you know.’ She gave a soft chuckle. ‘I fell hopelessly in love.’

  ‘I see.’ That was quite an age gap even for fifty-something years ago. ‘And that caused a stir in the family? Or...’ She hesitated. ‘Didn’t he reciprocate?’

  Lola thought it the least likely option. May had always been a tall, handsome woman. Carried herself well, wore clothes well. But in the photos Lola had seen of her as a teenager she’d been striking, with an impish flicker in her eyes.

  ‘Oh, he reciprocated. It was wonderful.’ She sighed and there was another pause. ‘But he was married. He had a wife and two girls who were joining him a little later. And I knew it and I embarked on a liaison with him anyway.’

  Married? ‘Oh.’ Lola hadn’t expected that.

  ‘Yes. Oh... So I left. The day before his family were due in town. I was afraid if I stayed I wouldn’t give him up, I wouldn’t end it. That I’d risk my family’s reputation and his marriage and break up his home because I was young and selfish and loved him too much.’

  A lump lodged in Lola’s throat. May was rattling it off as if it was something that had happened to somebody else but she couldn’t hide the thickness in her voice—not from Lola.

  ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.’

  ‘It’s fine.’ May cleared her voice. ‘As I said, it was in a whole other lifetime.’

  ‘Is he still—?’

  ‘No.’ Her aunt cut her off. ‘He died ten years ago. But you know...’ She gave a half laugh, half sigh that echoed with young love. ‘I would give up everything I’ve ever done, every place I’ve ever been, to have spent my life with him.’

  Lola sat forward in the chair. ‘What?’

  ‘Oh, yes. I’ve been with other men, Lola. Even lov
ed a few of them. But not like Donny. He was always the one.’

  ‘But...you’ve had such a wonderful life.’

  ‘Yes, I have. I’ve been very lucky.’

  ‘Right.’ Lola nodded, feeling suddenly like she was the elder in the conversation having to point out the obvious. ‘You’ve been to so many places. Seen so many things. Your life has been so full.’

  ‘No, sweetie, it hasn’t. I’ve been living a half-life. There’s always been something missing. So promise me not to make the same mistake I did, choosing adventure over love. If this man loves you and if you love him, as I suspect you just might, be open to it. Humans are meant to love and be loved. We mate for life. And a gypsy caravan is big enough for two.’

  Lola was too stunned to speak. Her whole world had just shifted on its axis. Not only had her great-aunt had a torrid affair with an older, married man but she’d have traded her gypsy life for a second chance with him.

  ‘Lola? Promise me.’

  Her aunt’s voice was fierce and strong and Lola was spooked by the sudden urgency of it, goose-bumps breaking out on her arms. ‘I promise.’

  * * *

  Lola was pleased to be back at work the next morning. Between what had happened with Hamish and the conversation with her great-aunt, her head was spinning. May—spinster of seventy-five years—had loved a married man she’d gladly have given everything up for. And Hamish loved her.

  Loved.

  On such short acquaintance. And having being warned that she didn’t do love.

  The whole world had gone mad.

  At least work was sane. She knew what she was doing there. What was expected of her. And people didn’t ask more than they knew she could give. She could care there, she could give a piece of herself, but she didn’t have to give them everything. They didn’t demand her heart and soul.

  Only her mind and body. And that she could do.

  ‘Lola, can you take Emma today, please? She’s due to be transferred to the ward around eleven so can you make sure all her discharge stuff is completed by morning tea?’