Unforgettable You: Destiny Romance

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Unforgettable You: Destiny Romance Page 23

by Georgina Penney


  ‘Your lawyer, your aunt, Corrine, said that you’re sharing a house with someone when I called her a while back,’ Lauren said after a few moments. ‘I didn’t realise you needed the money from the apartment sale that badly. I thought you would’ve had more than enough for your own place.’

  ‘I don’t, and I do have enough, more than enough.’ Comprehension hit Stephen and his eyes widened. ‘I didn’t realise it until now, but I think in the beginning, before I met Jo again, I wanted to have a temporary place just in case you and I fixed things between us. And then, well, things changed. My housemate is a special lady.’ His mouth curved into a small smile.

  ‘You’re together?’ Lauren asked quietly.

  ‘Yeah, we are. It’s different. Not like you and me. I can’t compare. You were so much . . . we grew up together, learned so much from each other.’ He willed her to understand what he meant. She nodded and he continued. ‘Jo’s something else. She’s good for me. She gives as good as she gets.’ He laughed and then noticed Lauren’s hurt expression and tempered his smile. ‘What about you?’

  She shrugged her shoulders and pressed her lips together. ‘No one yet, but I’ve just started to look. It’s taken me a while to work out what I want.’

  ‘Same here. Thanks, Lauren. I know it must have been hard to approach me like this.’

  She cocked her head on one side, studying his face intently. ‘My pleasure.’ She abruptly pushed her chair away from the table.

  ‘Bye, Stephen. I’ll put the apartment on the market this week.’

  He watched as she wove through the crowded café and out the door, giving him a small, solemn wave as she passed the window and walked down the street out of sight.

  Hello, Petal,

  Mum will be staying with me as planned. Don’t ask how I managed it. I’m not sure myself. She doesn’t know what’s going on yet and I think that’s probably best until she gets here because she’ll worry otherwise. You know how she is. But I think she’ll go along with it once we can talk to her away from Dad . . . Talked to Scott. The plan is for you to see the police the second day you’re home . . .

  Jo reread Amy’s email, relief that their plan was falling into place competing with a gut-wrenching dread over what would take place when she arrived back in Australia. She wanted, needed, to talk to Amy and go over things to assure herself they were doing the right thing. She glanced at her watch. Too late to call Australia now. She’d have to wait until tomorrow. Damn. Oh well. What was one more night of zero sleep? Her nightmares had returned with full force her fourth day back on the rig and weren’t getting any easier to handle.

  If lack of sleep weren’t enough, every day so far had been hell. From the moment she’d climbed out of the helicopter, her boss, Rick, hadn’t even bothered to hide his dislike of her. Every single mistake, every screw-up that had happened, no matter who was at fault, was pinned on her. So much for expecting any disappointment over her resignation, although she knew that would be coming. Faced with a never-ending dearth of green graduates like Hedgehog, upper management would be hounding her for the next six months or so to get her to come back. It was too late, though. She’d made up her mind. Even the cake a couple of the boys had lined up for her in the mess hall hadn’t changed her mind, although she had to admit she’d been touched. No, it was time to go. She was done.

  Over the past weeks, her conversation with Stephen about setting up a microbrewery had been rattling around her head, popping up whenever she had a spare moment, marginally keeping her sane. Slowly but surely she was talking herself into seriously considering the whole thing. She had the capital and contacts, and most importantly, she loved beer. She allowed herself a small smile at the thought, then screwed up her face at the chemical smell of drilling mud, crude oil and sweaty men. This was not the time to be thinking about her imminent career change, or beer for that matter. No point trying to launch herself months or even a year into the future when she still had to deal with now.

  She checked the time again. It might be too late to call Amy, but maybe Stephen would be up. She’d never called him at night before, preferring to catch him every morning before he went to work, but it had been a nightmare shift and she wanted to hear his voice.

  It was obvious she’d woken him up when he took over a minute to answer the phone, picking up at the last second.

  ‘Stephen Hardy speaking,’ he answered in a sleep-roughened voice.

  ‘Damn. I woke you up, didn’t I?’ Jo grinned to herself.

  ‘Jo? No. No, I’m up.’ She could hear him fumbling around, maybe turning on the light. ‘Hey, it’s really late. What’s wrong? Are you okay?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Jo said, running a hand over her eyes. ‘I’m fine. Just had a bad shift and wanted to hear your voice.’

  ‘Bummer.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Want to tell me what happened?’

  ‘Not really, but I will if you want to hear.’

  ‘Why don’t you?’

  Jo didn’t need any more encouragement than that to give full vent to her frustration, her rant interrupted only by Stephen’s sympathetic responses and a few welcome exclamations of outraged disbelief.

  ‘Feel better?’ he asked lazily when she finally wound down.

  ‘Yeah, actually I do. Thanks.’

  ‘I know what’ll leave you feeling even better.’

  ‘What?’ Jo asked suspiciously.

  ‘You alone?’

  ‘I’m in a mess hall with over thirty men around, if that’s what you call alone,’ Jo scoffed.

  ‘Can they see you right now?’

  Jo looked around. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Turn and face the wall. I don’t want them seeing your expression.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I miss you. I’m horny, and we’re going to indulge in a very pleasant few minutes of phone sex.’

  Jo gave a loud hoot of laughter that had a few men eating at nearby tables looking up in amazement. ‘Nice one. Thanks. That’s cheered me up immeasurably.’

  ‘Shaddup or I won’t pick you from the airport.’

  ‘I’m all yours,’ Jo said quickly, and Stephen gave a low, rumbling chuckle that flowed down the phone and over her nerves like maple syrup.

  ‘Well, I thought I’d tell you about a dream I was just having,’ Stephen said in a playful tone that had Jo half smiling from nerves and at the silliness of talking about this stuff on the phone.

  ‘You listening?’ he asked.

  Jo could hear him shifting around. She could also hear a faint meow in the background, like Boomba was getting booted off the bed. Her smile widened to a wicked grin. ‘You know . . . it sounds like you’ve got all the pussy—’

  ‘Don’t go there,’ Stephen groaned. ‘You know, you’re really not making this easy. How’s a man supposed to get his thing on with a woman like you?’

  ‘Sorry,’ Jo said, not the least bit contrite. ‘I hope I’ve not deflated your ego too much.’

  ‘Trust me, I’m far from deflated,’ he grumbled. ‘So I was telling you about this dream of mine . . .’

  Ten minutes later, Jo was leaning with her forehead against the wall of the small phone box, listening to a very satisfied-sounding man breathing deeply after having one of the sexiest orgasms she’d ever heard. She hadn’t seen it, but by God she wished she’d been there. If she got any hotter under the collar, she’d need to install a cooling fan in her bloody overalls. Somewhere in the pants region would do.

  ‘You still with me, babe?’ Stephen asked.

  ‘Yes.’ She groaned. ‘Dammit, you have no idea what you’ve just done to me.’

  ‘Save it up and take it out on me later.’ Stephen yawned loudly.

  ‘Tell me you’re not going to fall asleep on me now you’ve gotten me all worked up?’ Jo growled.

  There was a gleeful chuckle on the other end of the phone. ‘All the better to motivate you to come home soon. I promise I’ll make it up to you.’

  She grow
led at him again before hearing a knock on the door of the phone booth. ‘I gotta go.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘That sucks.’

  ‘I know. Love you and I’ll talk to you soon.’ The words slipped out naturally before she could edit them while she was distracted by an ugly bastard, Frank, who was gesturing to her to get off the phone. He had no idea what hellfire he was inviting upon his person.

  There was dead silence on the other end of the phone. ‘Yeah. Talk to you soon.’

  It was only when she’d hung up the phone that her words replayed in her head. She hadn’t just told him she loved him, had she? Too soon . . . too soon. Not when she hadn’t told him about the stuff with her family. Not when he could still walk away!

  ‘Fuck!’

  The word contained all the frustration Jo was feeling, augmented with the heaping plate of sexual frustration Stephen had just served her. She snatched the door open and towered over Frank, who stood a good five inches shorter. He backed up.

  ‘What the hell do you want?’ she demanded. ‘Some manners would be nice around here. Jesus Christ! I’m so sick of this crap.’

  Frank’s expression was a rictus of terror. ‘Ah, sorry Kraka-Jo. Just wanted to let you know the boss man wants to talk to you. Something about a dud batch of mud . . .’

  Jo advanced a few steps towards him before his words sank in. He and the men at the nearby tables winced at the inventive and impressive variety of expletives she heaped on Hedgehog, Frank and the room in general before she stomped away, leaving a stunned silence in her wake.

  ‘Well . . . she blew,’ one grizzled good ol’ boy drawled after a while.

  ‘Impressive,’ the man next to him said, looking bemused.

  ‘Can someone check to see where Frank’s head landed?’ another voice piped up.

  Chapter 16

  ‘Do you have some weird medical condition no one’s told me about or did you just ram that stick up your arse for fun?’ Scott asked, crunching across the blindingly white sand towards Stephen, who was sitting on a beach towel, elbows propped on his knees, brooding. The two of them had just spent the last hour catching some early-morning waves at Trigg Beach and were about to drop into a popular beachside café, only a few hundred metres away, for a full cooked breakfast. The smell of frying bacon was wafting across the beach, leaving Scott’s mouth watering and his stomach grumbling.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Stephen muttered, glaring at a young kid holding a body board who had the misfortune to be in his line of sight.

  ‘You wouldn’t. Too stupid.’ Scott dropped his board in the sand before stripping off his wetsuit and wiping himself down with a towel. He began to squeeze the water out of the long, inky black plait running down his back.

  ‘Anyone ever tell you that your hairstyle is a disgrace to heterosexual mankind?’ Stephen griped.

  ‘I take back the stick comment. Sounds like it’s an entire tree. I might be a disgrace to mankind, but the ladies never complain. And given that I’m seeing a lot more activity in that department than you of late, you’re a fine one to talk.’ Scott raised an eyebrow. It was six weeks since Jo had flown out to work, and recently he had watched Stephen’s mood degenerate from upbeat and obviously infatuated to downright vicious. Scott was taking Stephen’s shitty mood as a good sign. After making Jo promise she’d tell Stephen everything about her family, he wanted to make sure Stephen wouldn’t be a dick and mess things up. If Stephen was missing her, there was a good chance he was in it for the long haul.

  ‘Are we having breakfast or not?’ Stephen pushed himself to his feet.

  ‘Sounds good,’ Scott replied, hiking his board under one arm and picking up his towel and wetsuit.

  Fifteen minutes later, after they’d both inhaled a full English breakfast, Scott leaned back in his chair on the café balcony overhanging the beach and leisurely sipped his Americano, enjoying the scent of good coffee. Stephen hadn’t said anything the entire time they’d been eating other than to order a second espresso. This was painful.

  ‘You taken up monastic silence or are you just evolving communication to a higher plane?’ Scott asked eventually, hoping he’d get a rise. He got lucky.

  ‘Lauren’s sold the apartment,’ Stephen muttered after a while, squinting out at the near-blinding glare of the sun reflecting off the sea.

  ‘Yeah? Wow. Does Mum know? What am I saying? Of course she does. She’s your lawyer. She would have settled the deal, right?’

  ‘No, actually.’ Stephen shook his head. ‘Lauren sent me the paperwork and deposited half the money in my account last week. No lawyer.’ He winced. ‘I really should tell Aunty Corrine, shouldn’t I?’

  ‘When she’s finished beating you senseless for keeping her out of the loop, let me know, and I’ll come shovel your pulverised body parts off the floor,’ Scott replied blandly, hailing a waiter and ordering another coffee while watching Stephen vibrate in his chair, both his legs jogging on the spot under the table.

  ‘So what did Jo say?’ When Stephen’s cheeks darkened and the corners of his mouth went south, Scott knew he’d hit the nail on the head. ‘Ah. You haven’t told her yet, have you? What are you worried about? That it’ll wreck the deal you two have living together? It can’t be that because I know there’s no way she’d give you the boot.’

  ‘You think?’

  ‘Yeah. I don’t think it’s an issue. What’s with you two anyway? I know Jo’s serious, but—’

  ‘She say that?’ Stephen began playing with the teaspoon he’d used to stir his coffee, banging it concussively on the table.

  ‘Not in so many words, but I know her well enough to have a good idea of where she’s at. You know she had a thing for you when we were kids, right?’

  ‘Yeah. She told me just before she left. Showed me that photo in her room.’

  ‘Serious?’ Scott was genuinely surprised. He knew what that photo represented for Jo. It was why he’d given it to her. Both he and Amy had matching photographs at their houses. For him it was a reminder of the important people in his life and how far they’d come, but for Jo he knew it meant something far more complex. For starters, she and Amy had been ‘camping’, hiding out from their dad, for two weeks already when he’d accidently found them while taking photos with the new camera he’d gotten for Christmas that year.

  ‘Yeah,’ Stephen said curtly, obviously not wanting to go into detail. ‘She told me she loved me on the phone the other week too.’

  ‘That’s not surprising,’ Scott murmured, smiling.

  ‘Hasn’t repeated it since, though.’ Stephen’s frown got more pronounced.

  Scott wasn’t the most enlightened bloke out there, but he could tell when something was missing from the equation. ‘You said anything?’

  ‘No,’ Stephen blurted. ‘It’s so awkward on the phone, you know? There’s always someone around her. The phone lines are shitty, and I can never tell what she’s thinking. The whole situation is screwed.’ He flicked the teaspoon across in the table in frustration.

  Rather than saying anything, Scott gave a huge shrug and smiled.

  ‘What?’ Stephen barked.

  ‘You’re a first-class idiot, mate. You were when you were sixteen and you got jealous thinking Jo was my girlfriend, and you are now.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Jo doesn’t say stuff lightly. If she said it, she meant it. She probably hasn’t said anything since because you’—Scott gestured at Stephen with his coffee mug—’haven’t said anything back. Did you at least acknowledge what she’d said?’

  ‘No. But—’

  ‘I rest my case,’ Scott jibed before his expression turned serious. ‘Jo tell you anything else? Anything about her family yet?’

  Stephen scowled. ‘Not much. She said she would when she got back this time, though. Want to enlighten me? Because it’s about bloody time someone did.’

  ‘Nope. Not for me to
tell.’ Scott gave him an apologetic grimace. ‘So how serious are you about her, then?’

  ‘Jo?’

  ‘No, the fucking tooth fairy.’

  ‘I haven’t given it a lot of thought. Well. I have but . . . this is a bit heavy for this early in the morning, isn’t it?’ Stephen levelled a glare at him that was almost comically fierce.

  ‘Yeah. You brought it up, and we’re talking about my best friend here.’ Scott didn’t intend to let the topic go.

  ‘Oh, all right. Well, ah. Pretty serious, I think,’ Stephen said, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

  ‘So you’d stick by her if something huge happened in her life? Even if it was pretty shitty?’

  ‘Well, yeah. Of course. What sort of bastard do you think I am?’ Stephen asked indignantly. His expression turned alarmed. ‘This isn’t about what happened after I fucked up at the party, is it? I’d pretty much chilled out about that but now . . . Jesus Christ.’ He ran his hand over his face. ‘The way she won’t talk about any of it has been giving me nightmares. How bad is it? Can’t you just tell me now?’

  ‘I don’t think you’re a bastard at all, mate; calm down. It’ll all sort itself out,’ Scott replied, relaxing back in his chair. ‘Do me a favour, though, will you?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Tell her how you feel when she gets back. Straight away. No messing around. At the airport if you can.’

  Stephen’s expression turned suspicious. ‘Why? What’s it to you?’

  ‘Just bloody well do it, all right? And you better not have been lying about sticking by her just then. Because if you were, you’ve got a chance of losing something that most men dream about getting once in a lifetime.’

  ‘What’s that’s supposed to mean?’ Stephen gripped the table and leaned forward, getting in Scott’s face. Scott wasn’t fazed in the slightest.

  ‘If you can’t work that out, you are bloody stupid. Come on. I have to get home so I can get some work done this morning. Can’t all be navel-gazers like you.’ Not waiting for Stephen to absorb the twists and turns their conversation had taken, Scott pushed away from the table with one easy movement and sauntered over to the cashier to pay.

 

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