It’s Love, Dude

by Jenny Schwartz

  Molly heard the howls of thousands of outraged women across Australia and the world. She’d turned down a dinner invitation from Zane Carlton.

  A flicker of shock crossed his face.

  She wasn’t offended. She’d bet women never said no to him. It was a salutary reminder that getting involved with him would only get her hurt. She said a mental ‘thank you’ for the existing arrangements for her evening.

  ‘Am I treading on some guy’s toes?’ Zane asked. ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’

  ‘No.’ How had the conversation turned so personal?

  ‘Then how about a drink after whatever you have planned for the evening?’

  She shook her head, starting to panic as realisation dawned. If he kept pushing, he’d learn something that would probably annoy him even more than Tom tangling with that sleazy property developer over his land. ‘I’ll be out all evening. I’m flattered you asked me and I’m sorry I can’t make it.’

  His knockout grin turned charmingly wry. ‘You don’t owe me an explanation. Can’t say I’m not disappointed though.’

  That was nice, really nice. Guilt stampeded through her. She could feel it heating her face.

  Zane ran a lazy finger along her right cheek. ‘Sweet and shy. I am missing out.’

  The intent look in his eyes made her heart rocket.

  He leant in. ‘May I steal the kiss I wanted tonight?’

  Her lips parted. No words emerged, but the way his eyes focused on the slight movement said he got the message. Yes.

  His hand moved to cup her head, fingers flexing once. Then his mouth covered hers.

  Fantasies had nothing on reality.

  He kissed like a fallen angel, taking the time to learn her mouth and let her learn the firm control of his. It felt so good and he didn’t rush it. He let the heat build. She was breathing deep when he broke the kiss with a last, lingering lick of his tongue across her bottom lip. He kept his hand behind her head. She looked into the blaze of green fire in his hazel eyes.

  ‘Dynamite,’ he whispered.

  It was good one of them could talk. All she could do was feel. She could taste him on her lips. Yum.

  ‘I reckon we lit the fuse,’ he continued.

  They’d lit something. She shifted restlessly, aching.

  ‘Gorgeous, if you don’t want me to aim straight for the explosion, don’t give me ideas.’ His tone was low and darkly amused.

  She pressed her knees together.

  He chuckled. ‘Yeah, those kind of ideas.’ His thumb caressed the tender skin behind her ear. ‘I’m staying in Jardin Bay a few days. How about dinner tomorrow night?’

  ‘Okay.’

  Later, she’d kick herself for her lack of common sense, but just now she melted at his expression and how he swooped in for a tantalisingly brief kiss.

  ‘I’ll look forward to it.’

  She sighed as he shifted back and his hand dropped away.

  ‘I should get you back to the office.’ The engine roared to life. He switched on the windscreen wipers and as they sheeted away the water, a rainbow arching to the horizon became visible.

  Rainbow bridges and fairy-tale gold. She was living a fantasy. Danger! Time to strike out for solid ground. ‘I’d better go back to work.’

  ***

  ‘Wait there,’ Zane said as he parked near, but not in front, of Greg Cooper’s office. For himself, he didn’t care about an audience, but he figured Molly would. Sweet Molly with the passion simmering in her kiss, just waiting to be freed. Shy Molly who had fallen silent on the short drive back into town.

  He circled the front of the 4WD and opened her door. She’d taken off her seatbelt. He put his hands to her waist and helped her jump down. She felt so good in his hands that he held on even after she was steady on the ground.

  He’d intended for this to be a flying visit. Open the skate park, make his sponsors happy, and get back to training. But he had boards here. He could spend a few days without losing his edge.

  ‘Um, you can let me go?’

  ‘What if I don’t want to?’ He liked teasing her, liked the hint of uncertainty and the shy pleasure with which she responded.

  ‘I think you should. Someone will see.’ She tried to look around him, but he was taller and wider. Her eyes came back to his. ‘Please.’

  He released her, finger by finger, in a rippling motion that edged upwards.

  Her breathing got the ragged rhythm from when they’d kissed.

  ‘For you.’ He lifted his hands from just below her breasts and stepped back.

  She sighed. ‘Bye, Zane.’

  ‘Till tomorrow.’ He leant against the car.

  She paused at the door, turned and saw him watching. Her head ducked a fraction before her chin came up and she waved.

  He casually saluted, finger to forehead.

  The surf gods were smiling on him. She was one hundred percent stunning and one hundred percent genuine. Classy and cute. He’d extend his good mood by taking out a board. The storm swell was strong. After that, he’d shout Tom dinner at the pub. Not as good as taking Molly out for dinner, but family — even grumpy family — was important.

  ***

  ‘What do you mean you’ve got plans?’ Zane demanded when he showed up at Tom’s door and found his granddad unreceptive to the thought of a free meal. ‘You never go anywhere.’

  ‘Huh. Like you’d know.’

  It was enough to remind Zane that Tom hadn’t told him about the property developer. He pushed in.

  A thermos stood on the table, a packet of sandwiches beside it.

  The cuckoo clock ook-oo’d annoyingly.

  ‘Have you got a job working nights?’ Zane asked.

  But Tom was heading down the narrow hallway to his room. He returned holding a fisherman’s jacket.

  Zane’s shoulders relaxed. ‘I could go fishing with you. I can borrow some of Brodie’s gear.’

  ‘I’m not going fishing.’ Tom shrugged on the jacket.

  ‘So where are you going?’

  ‘Boy, do I ever ask you where you’re going?’

  No. But that wasn’t the point. ‘I tell you the important stuff. You didn’t tell me about the property developer that wanted your land. He was giving you a hard time.’

  ‘I handled him.’

  ‘Seems you had a bit of help.’

  Tom smiled. ‘That Molly. She’s a quiet terror.’

  ‘You should have told Brodie and me.’

  Tom quit smiling. ‘You’ve got your own lives to lead. I might be old, but I can look after myself. Plenty of fight left in me.’

  ‘We’re family.’

  ‘You’re annoying, is what you are. Now, I’ve got plans.’ Tom shoved the sandwiches in one pocket and picked up the thermos. ‘We can have dinner tomorrow, if you’ll still be in town.’

  ‘I’ll be in town, but I can’t make dinner tomorrow.’

  Tom paused in locking the door behind them. ‘You’ll notice I’m not asking you what your plans are.’

  ‘I don’t mind telling you. I’m taking Molly to dinner.’

  The security light that had flickered on in the yard showed Tom’s expression in part light, part shade. He did not look happy. ‘Molly is not one of your surfer chicks. She’s a good girl and she expects the best from people.’

  ‘Granddad, I am the best.’ Smart alec words to hide the hurt that Tom felt he needed to protect Molly from him.

  ‘You’re a player, and that’s okay if the girls you’re with are playing, too. But Molly’s serious. She cares about people. I won’t have my grandson breaking her heart.’

  ‘It’s dinner. Not a formal engagement.’

  ‘Cancel it.’

  Zane flung his arms wide. ‘You call this not meddling in my life?’

  Tom scowled at him.

  ‘I am taking Molly to dinner.’

  ‘And I’m telling you ‘no’.’

  They glared at one another. Tom had shrunk an inch or two with the years.
He was no longer the giant of Zane’s childhood.

  Zane sucked in a breath and his impatience. ‘It’s just dinner, Granddad. Even I’m not going to break a girl’s heart over a single dinner.’

  ‘If it’s just dinner, then cancel. Fly off to Hawaii or California or wherever the hell it is you go.’

  ‘Malibu,’ Zane said through his teeth. He’d offered enough times to pay for Tom to visit. He had a condo there. Jardin Bay was home, but it was about as far away as you could get from most surfing events. Being based in Malibu saved precious travelling hours and let him tap into the best training and medical support services. He was only twenty-eight, but any sport pursued at the elite level meant injuries. You had to do your best to minimise them.

  ‘Fine. Go back to Malibu.’

  ‘You’re a stubborn old bastard.’

  Tom gripped a veranda post. ‘I know about heartbreak, Zane. Actions have consequences. Molly lives a quiet life, maybe too quiet for a girl that young, but she’s happy in it. If you come along, stirring her up, starting her dreaming, and then you walk away, what’s that going to do to her? She’s shy now. You could send her into her shell for good. Molly needs a solid guy who’ll be around for her, one who makes her the centre of his life. She reminds me of your gran. She’s strong but she needs to know she’s loved to blossom.’

  The night wind curled in over the dunes, carrying the lone cry of a seagull.

  ‘You’re a good man, Zane. You and Brodie beat the odds. Rob was a rotten father, and I taught him that. But you built yourself a better life. I’m proud of you. I’m glad you get to travel the world and enjoy the things we could never give you. But the life you’ve built doesn’t fit a girl like Molly. Leave her alone.’

  Tom walked down the veranda steps and down the path to the gate. The dogs trailed him silently. A hand signal had them sitting as he opened the gate.

  Zane followed him through the gate and watched him latch it. He’d watched his granddad’s hands for hours as a kid. He’d watched them oil-grimed and deft, working on cars. He’d watched them painting the house, doing repairs, fishing. He’d seen them suddenly clumsy, dabbing ointment on a boy’s grazed knees and elbows.

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Tom said.

  Zane nodded. Tom was in his car and reaching to close the door before Zane spoke. ‘You can trust me, Granddad. I won’t hurt Molly.’

  ‘Good.’ The car door slammed. The engine kicked over and Tom reversed out.

  Zane walked down to the pub, alone.

  ***

  The first time Molly visited Big Swamp at night, she’d jumped at every sound. But now she recognised the soft plop of frogs entering the water, the low crooning of waterbirds and the rustle of the bulrushes in the wind. She’d gotten used to the smell, too. Decomposition was part of the swamp’s cycle of life.

  The paperbark trees provided a canopy, blocking most of the moonlight. She’d traded up her torch for one with more power. It lit the winding trail she followed and if she swung it fast enough in the direction of specific sounds…yes! For an instant, an owl’s round eyes gleamed back at her before she pointed the torch back at the ground. She didn’t want to scare the bird.

  A second torch beam darted out to the right of her.

  ‘Damn. I thought it was the woylie,’ Tom muttered.

  Molly understood. The piece of rotten wood had two jagged protuberances that resembled ears in the darkness. Add that to the fact that they were here on a woylie hunt and the mistake was understandable.

  They reached the fallen log that they’d chosen as their vantage point. All of the watchers had their own favourite hides, positioned at places they thought a woylie would visit. Once seated, Tom put on a pair of night vision goggles. Molly left her pair hanging around her neck while she readied the night vision camera. A clear photo of the woylie would be incontrovertible evidence, but even a simple sighting by her or Tom would enable permission for a local scientist to set traps for the woylie.

  She and Tom had scoped out the swamp in daylight and chosen the fallen log for its proximity to a small pool and the dense patch of scrub that would be excellent protection from most predators — not snakes, though. They’d slither right through it.

  Ugh. Molly wished she hadn’t thought about snakes. They were mostly hibernating still, but with spring warming the ground, they’d start stirring soon. Time was running out in more ways than one for the woylie hunt.

  She set the camera on her lap and settled the goggles on the bridge of her nose. Her world was instantly transformed. It glowed green against the black shadows. The effect could have been spooky, except that she loved the sense of stepping into an animal’s nocturnal world.

  The slight disturbance her and Tom’s passage through the swamp had made was gradually swallowed up by its inhabitants’ return to normal activities. The chorus of tiny green frogs eager to mate resumed. ‘Meep, meep, meep-meep.’ And abruptly cut off.

  A distant shout carried on the wind. ‘Granddad? Where the hell are you?’

  Zane.

  Tom muttered something rude under his breath.

  ‘If you had a mobile phone, Zane could have texted you,’ Molly said, trying to hide her sudden excitement under her long-running argument with Tom about the benefits of embracing modern technology.

  ‘Hmph.’ He stood and clicked on his torch beam, pointing it in the direction of Zane’s voice.

  ‘Granddad? Molly?’

  She clicked on her torch and waved it. ‘Should I walk over and meet him?’

  The tiny dot of Zane’s light started in their direction.

  ‘We’ll wait here.’ Tom sat down. ‘Not that waiting will do us any good. All this noise. What self-respecting woylie’s going to show up with that stomping around?’

  Zane wasn’t exactly stomping, but he wasn’t treading carefully. There was a splash followed by some vivid cursing.

  Molly pushed up her goggles.

  Tom unwrapped a packet of sandwiches and offered her one. ‘Ham and tomato.’

  ‘No, thanks.’ She’d brought shortbread biscuits, but kept them in her jacket pocket. If Zane arrived in the clearing to find them sharing a late night snack, his head might explode.

  ‘I do not believe you.’ Zane had arrived. He towered over her and Tom as they sat on the log. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’

  ‘We’re looking for evidence of woylies,’ Molly explained.

  He’d been glaring at Tom. Now he shifted that incinerating gaze to her.

  She leaned back.

  ‘Are you insane?’

  Okay. It was safe to say he was mad at both of them.

  ‘Finding a woylie is important,’ she said.

  ‘Important! Important enough to risk your safety? Look around you. It’s night, black as hell and you’re all alone out here.’

  ‘There are two of us and I have my mobile phone.’

  ‘A girl and an old man.’ Zane flung his arms up. The torch beam moved wildly.

  ‘Hold it.’ Tom switched on his torch. ‘Nope. For a minute there…’

  Molly turned to him. ‘Do you think you saw a woylie?’

  ‘I wouldn’t have thought so, with all this shouting, but just for a moment there Zane’s torch reflected off two eyes.’

  She stared at the point Tom spotlighted.

  ‘Are either of you listening to me?’

  ‘Can’t help but hear you, boy.’ A pause. ‘Course, it could have been a rabbit, maybe a rat.’

  ‘Ugh.’ Instinctively, Molly drew her feet up onto the log and wrapped her arms around her knees.

  ‘I couldn’t believe it when Harry Fraser rocked up to me in the pub and told me you two were out chasing mythical creatures in Big Swamp.’

  ‘Woylies aren’t mythical.’ Molly rested her chin on her knees.

  ‘According to Harry, only Annie Reece thinks she’s seen one here.’

  ‘Harry’s got a big mouth,’ Tom said of his old friend.

  ‘It�
��s true that Annie can be a bit…enthusiastic,’ Molly said carefully. ‘That’s why we need more evidence. Did Harry tell you about the debate over the swamp?’

  ‘All I heard was that the two of you were wandering around here at night, an open invitation to any weirdos to attack you.’

  ‘Jardin Bay doesn’t have weirdos.’ She crossed her fingers because that wasn’t quite true and she had had some concerns about night-time visits to the swamp. ‘Or at least, we don’t have dangerous weirdos.’

  ‘Rapists don’t exactly wear signs saying what they are,’ Zane said harshly. ‘And it’s not just locals. You get tons of tourists and holiday-makers.’

  ‘In summer,’ Tom said. ‘We’ll be finished by then — one way or another.’

  ‘You’re finished now.’ Zane folded his arms across an impressive breadth of chest. ‘I’ll walk you back to your cars. I parked beside them. And you’re going to promise me that you won’t come back here at night. Hell, the least you could have done was bring one of your dogs with you, Granddad.’

  ‘We tried that,’ Molly said. ‘They thought it was a big adventure and wouldn’t settle. They scared away all the little animals.’

  She got the distinct impression that Zane swallowed the next few words he wanted to say. Her conscience nudged her. After all, she’d been careful to keep news of her late night visits to the swamp from her parents. They’d be even more annoyed and worried than Zane.

  ‘Would you like a biscuit?’ She brought her shortbread peace-offering out of her pocket.

  ‘No.’ He unfolded his arms and leaned down into her space. ‘I am mad at you. We talked. I told you I wanted to know what Granddad was up to and you kept this from me. You don’t think this was something I needed to know?’

  ‘Not your business,’ Tom said.

  Molly winced. ‘It kind of is. He’s your grandson. Zane…’

  He grasped her hand and pulled her up. She jolted against his chest and he wrapped an arm around her. There was nothing lover-like in the embrace. ‘We’re going home, now.’

  ‘Pig-headed.’ Tom pushed up from the log. ‘You’ve scared everything away, anyway. You’re worse than the dogs.’

  She heard Zane’s teeth grind. ‘We can come back another night,’ she said soothingly .