by Wood, Joss
Finn closed his eyes and shook his head. Goddammit, he was losing his mind. This trip was not real life—this was an aberration, a step out of time. It wouldn’t be like this every trip. It was usually hectic: a combination of stunning sights and experiences interrupted by long periods of boredom spent in hotel rooms and airport lounges.
It wasn’t a life to build a relationship on. As for another long-distance one? Well, that hadn’t worked out so well the last time he’d tried it, and Callie wasn’t the type of girl he’d be able to stay away from for long.
Finn walked over to the small fridge in the corner of the lounge area and took out a bottle of water. Cracking the lid, he took a long drink and watched Callie as she pulled her T-shirt up and over her head, revealing the top half of the pink and orange bikini she was wearing. A vision of her, round and bursting with life with his child, flashed across his retina and he groaned. No, he wasn’t going to think of her in terms of for ever, in terms of creating a family with her.
Or being the man she fell in love with.
He wanted to be single, to get his bearings, and she was even more wary of commitment than he was. Why did he want to put his fist through that glass door at the thought of her loving and living with someone else? Handing over that very fragile heart to another man?
He was just projecting, influenced by the incredibleness of these past two weeks. This wasn’t reality.
Get a grip, Banning. She’s fun, good company and brilliant in the sack. That’s it. You have less than a week left of this—of her—so get your head out of your ass, stop obsessing, and catch a clue. Instead of standing here, staring at her like a moonstruck whipped boy, do something!
So he would do what he … they … did best. Lose themselves in each other …
He gestured with his water bottle. ‘Carry on,’ he told her.
Callie lifted her eyebrows at him. ‘Sorry?’
Her voice was prissy, but her sexy smile told him that she knew where he wanted to go and was happy to tag along.
‘Shorts off.’
Callie’s eyes deepened with passion as she slowly pulled down the zip to her brief denim shorts and shimmied them over her hips. When they dropped to the floor he looked at her standing there in the shadows, the shades drawn to keep the heat out.
‘Top off,’ he said in a croaky voice, and took another sip of water to moisten his mouth.
Callie reached behind her back and pulled one of the ties holding her top together before reaching for the other one around her neck. The two triangles joined her shorts on the floor and she placed her fists on her hips and stared at him.
He was rock-hard and ready to spring out of his pants—and he hadn’t even touched her yet. Surely after so much sex he should be able to temper his reaction to her by now? But it took just one look into those amazing eyes for him to be ready to roll. Surely he should have more control?
Then Callie stepped out of her bikini panties and he knew that, with her, he had absolutely no control at all.
As he reached for her he wondered how he was supposed to walk away from her. From the amazing sex but also, even harder, from her sharp mind, her dirty sense of humour and the vulnerable, soft soul beneath that vivacious personality?
How?
It was past eleven at night when their plane finally landed in Cape Town, and nearly midnight when Finn swung his SUV into the driveway in front of her closed-up house. This was unlike any homecoming she’d ever experienced, Callie thought, staring at her tightly laced hands in her lap. She didn’t want to be here, back in the city. She didn’t want to go back to real life, to work, to a life without Finn to wake up to, to make love with, to snuggle up to at night.
She wanted to be back in Kruger, in the sweltering heat of Livingstone, on that white sand beach. Anywhere with Finn … everywhere with Finn.
Finn’s white-knuckled hands gripped the steering wheel. ‘So, this is it.’
Callie sucked in her top lip. ‘Yep.’
‘How long are you in the country for?’ Finn asked, his voice low.
‘I think I have a quick trip scheduled to Milan for next week. You?’
‘Not sure. I have to get this article in and accepted, then I can choose between a dude ranch in Montana or the northern lights in Alaska.’
Callie made herself pat his shoulder. ‘Poor guy. I’m sure both will be terrible,’ she teased, and felt proud of herself. She wouldn’t make this goodbye difficult by weeping and wailing. She would hold her head up high and go out on a huge smile.
Finn turned his head to look at her. ‘They won’t be as much fun without you.’
Callie felt the tears well. ‘You can’t say that. I’m trying to be brave, here,’ she protested.
‘Me too.’ Finn blew out a long sigh before dropping his head back onto the headrest. He rolled his head to look at her. His eyes, deep with regret, caught and held hers. ‘I still want you.’
Callie swallowed and her hand instinctively reached out to grip his thigh. ‘I know. I want you too.’
‘Last time for the road?’
‘It’s a really bad idea, Finn.’
‘I know, but let’s do it anyway. I need to burn you into my memory one last time.’
The next morning, for the first time in weeks, Callie didn’t wake up to Finn laying hot, wet kisses down her back, or a hard, heavy arm across her waist, or warm male breath tickling her ear.
She was alone and she really didn’t like it.
Rolling over, she looked at the dent his head had left on the pillow and, inexplicably, felt tears burn her eyes. How was she supposed to live without him? Be without him? Exist without him? How was she supposed to love him if he wasn’t even around?
Love? Was she in love? Could she be?
This was insane. Nobody fell in love after a month—especially her, a girl who didn’t believe in love and happily-ever-after. But she couldn’t deny it any more. She loved Finn—absolutely, utterly, probably catastrophically.
Callie sat up in bed and rested her head on her bent knees. This was so not a clever thing to have done. Finn was on the rebound—he didn’t want a relationship, wasn’t interested. She knew all this, but she was.
Should she tell him? A part of her wanted to, needed to. Callie had loved too few people in her life, had been loved by too few, to bury or ignore this amazing sensation when it came her way. It was what it was and it demanded to be expressed—to be validated, to be acknowledged. But she’d also told him that there would be no hearts and flowers, no demands for anything more, no complications. Was telling him that she loved him more important than keeping her promise? Especially since she knew that he didn’t feel the same way about her?
What should she do?
Callie lifted her head when she heard footsteps outside her door and made herself look at him as he stepped into her bedroom. She had to look at him because she didn’t know when she would again.
If she would again …
Love was love, but that didn’t automatically translate into happily-ever-after. She knew that now. Her mother had said she loved her but she hadn’t stayed; she loved Finn, and even if by some miracle he felt the same they had so many obstacles in their way. They both travelled extensively. How could they mesh their schedules so that they could build a relationship? Maintain it?
But she was getting way ahead of herself. She still had to decide whether to tell him or not.
‘Hey, you’re awake,’ Finn said, handing her a cup of coffee.
‘I am. Thanks.’ Callie took the coffee and took a grateful sip, thankful for a reason not to talk.
‘I brought your bags in,’ Finn said, moving to look out of her window to the view of the sea.
Callie cocked her head at his quiet voice and knew that he was trying to ease his way out of her bedroom and her life. His fists were bunched in his pockets and his lips were pulled tight.
‘I checked my email while you were sleeping. I’m heading for Alaska.’
Calli
e felt as if the coffee was threatening to come up her throat again. ‘When?’ she asked, her throat hoarse.
‘Within a day or two.’
‘That soon, huh?’
Callie carefully placed her coffee cup on the side table and swung her legs out of bed. Reaching for a robe that hung over the back of her chair, she pulled it on. Her hands were shaky as she tied it at the waist.
‘So this is definitely goodbye?’
Finn turned and sat on the open windowsill. ‘It should have been goodbye last night. We just make it harder the longer we draw this out.’ His voice was low, but resolute.
He had no idea how hard it could be, Callie thought. He wasn’t in love with her but she was with him.
‘Do you think you’ll ever fall in love again?’ she asked, as a way to test these very turbulent waters. Just to make sure …
Finn’s head snapped up in surprise at the question. ‘I’m not sure I was in the first place.’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘I don’t know … I don’t think so. If I was so inclined then it would’ve been with you, during this last month.’
Callie struggled to keep him from seeing how those words pierced her soul. She used every acting skill she had to make her voice sound light and flirty.
‘So you’re not in love with me, then?’ she asked him, deliberately batting her eyelashes.
‘Nope. Why? Are you in love with me?’ Finn teased back, and she was faced with the do or die question.
Did she admit it and have their relationship end on an awkward, weird note—or did she let him leave her life thinking she was unaffected?
Never had a choice been so hard.
She tipped her head and dredged up a big, bold smile. ‘What would you say if I told you I was?’
Finn took his time answering. ‘I’d tell you what I’ve been telling myself: that we’re blinded by the passion between us, that we stepped out of the reality of daily life and the romantic settings and the warm weather and the luxury changed the way we behaved. That we can’t trust out judgement.’
Callie nodded. She’d thought about all of that, but none of it had changed her mind or her knowledge of what was. She loved him. Simply. Crazily. For ever.
He didn’t love her. Oh, she knew that he loved her body, loved sex with her, but it wasn’t the same thing. Callie rubbed her forehead with her fingers as her mind operated at warp speed, trying to decide what to do.
Then Finn took the decision out of her hands by walking over to her and kissing her gently on the lips before folding her into his strong arms.
‘We agreed to walk away, Cal.’
Callie looked up at him, feeling so safe in the circle of his arms. Arms that would soon be gone. ‘Guess it’s time to rip off those rose-coloured glasses and get back to real life, huh?’
‘In a couple of days … weeks … we’ll settle down into that real life and this will feel like a dream.’
Callie buried her face in his neck. ‘So I’ll always be your dream girl?’
‘You bet.’ Finn stroked her hair. His long sigh blew into her curls. ‘This wasn’t supposed to get this tangled, this complicated.’
Still no I love you.
Callie tried to swallow the golf ball that was lodged in her throat. ‘I’ll miss you. Thanks for a brilliant time.’
‘I’ll miss you too. Thanks for being a brilliant fake wife.’ Finn kissed the top of her head—the brush-off kiss for any man—and stepped away from her. ‘Take care, Callie. And think about what I said about your mother.’
‘Yeah.’
In her eagerness to avoid the first person who’d broken her heart she’d run away with a second person who’d just rebroken it. She had the intelligence of a pot plant, Callie thought, watching him walk across her lounge to the front door.
‘Bye, angel.’
It took every iota of willpower she had, and then some, not to throw her arms around his knees and beg him not to go.
‘Bye.’
Then the door snicked closed behind him and she felt her heart cleave in two. Overwhelmed, she sank to the floor and wrapped her arms around her head, trying to shield herself from the burning miasma of pain that engulfed her.
It didn’t help, she realised. Nothing would—not for a while. She knew this. She’d been here before.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CALLIE MADE HERSELF get up the next morning, forced herself to put on a pretty dress, curl her hair and do her make-up. Her world might be falling apart but there was no reason for people to know that she was too. Besides, if she pretended hard enough and long enough that everything was fine then maybe it would be. Eventually.
She was making herself a smoothie, in an effort to start losing the pounds she’d picked up drinking cocktails on the beach with he-whose-name-could-not-be-mentioned, when her doorbell rang. She considered ignoring it and had just decided to do that when it pealed again.
Dammit! Thinking that she wasn’t in the mood to see anyone, to explain anything, she stomped through to the front door and looked through the peephole at the distorted image of a tall blonde woman. It took her a minute to recognise the blue, blue eyes of Laura, the tall frame, the long face.
She looked older, Callie thought, her heart accelerating. An older, harder, tougher me. Even through the peephole she could see that she looked as if she’d lived a hard life—too much sun, booze, too many cigarettes. Callie wanted to tell her to go away, that she didn’t want to see her, but she couldn’t push any words past her thick tongue.
‘Cal-belle? Honey?’
Callie could hear her voice clearly through the wooden door.
‘I know that you’re there. I heard your footsteps.’
Cal-Belle. God, she hadn’t heard that in over twenty years. Her mum’s pet name for her—Laura’s pet name for her.
‘Callie, I know that you don’t want to see me, and I understand why. I do—I really do. But I just couldn’t leave, fly back to Sao Paulo, without trying at least once.’
Callie kept silent but let Laura speak. She wanted to be strong enough to walk away but she couldn’t—not yet.
‘There’s so much I want to say to you, so much I want to explain.’
Callie, feeling drained and very, very vulnerable, didn’t even realise that hot, thick tears were rolling down her face. All she could think was that she wanted Finn … needed Finn. She needed his strong arms to hold her up, his voice in her ear telling her that she was okay, that she would always be okay, that she could do this.
But he wasn’t here. Like her mother, when she needed him most he was AWOL. The people she loved most had the ability to let her down the hardest.
Hardening her heart, she finally managed to speak. ‘I’m not ready to talk to you, Laura. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.’
She didn’t think she could even open the door.
‘I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Callie, but the biggest one was walking out on you and your brother.’
You think?
‘I want to tell you that I’m sorry, and if this is the only way I get to do it—through a closed door—then this is how I’ll do it.’
Callie slipped off her shoes and quickly moved to the right, to the thin sliver of tinted glass that allowed her to see out but kept visitors from looking in. Laura was looking at her fingernails and her foot was tapping on the terracotta tiles. She looked bone-deep scared.
Callie remembered what she’d said to Finn about Liz, about how courageous her decision to end their relationship had been. Wasn’t it equally courageous of Laura to face her, to ask for forgiveness after so long? She had to know that it wouldn’t be easy, that she might not get it, but she was still willing to try.
Her mother was standing there offering an explanation—something that Finn desperately wanted from his own father. And she was alive. Finn’s parents weren’t. If she turned Laura away now, would she regret it for the rest of her life?
‘Callie?’
‘Can you hang on a sec? I just need
a moment.’
Callie paced the small area of her hallway—the place where Finn had made love to her the night before. Finn … He’d made her better, she realised. Stronger. He’d left behind a little of his strength and a lot of his wisdom.
She could almost hear his deep voice in her ear. ‘You don’t have to accept or forgive her choices—just understand why she made them.’
Not now, she thought. I’m still reeling because you’re not here.
‘You can move mountains. You don’t need her to be happy. And I’m still with you.’
He was, Callie realised. Oh, she missed him desperately, but he’d left a part of himself with her. His belief in her. She could move mountains, she could be happy—one day, maybe. She was stronger than she thought.
She could choose either to hang on to her bitterness towards her mother or she could set herself, and her mother free. She could listen to what she had to say and then decide whether she wanted Laura back in her life—wanted, not needed!
She might not be able to make a certain travel reporter love her, but, by God, she could do this, she could face her mother.
Callie turned back to the door and wrenched it open. ‘Come in and talk, but I’m making no promises beyond this meeting.’
Laura bit her lip as she stepped into the hall. ‘I understand.’ She glanced down, transfixed by the rings on Callie’s hand. ‘Oh, my goodness. You’re wearing them! And on your wedding finger!’
‘I’m not married,’ Callie hastened to explain, lifting her hand. ‘You know these rings?’ she asked, confused.
‘Sure. Your father bought them for me from an antique store to celebrate your birth.’ Laura placed the tip of her finger on the raised stone. ‘They were the only rings I ever wore.’
Callie looked up at the ceiling and let out a deep breath. Of course they were. Because this was her life and nothing could be simple.
It wasn’t a surprise that Alaska in the dead of winter was cold, Finn thought, looking out from his hotel window into the weird light that was supposed to signal dusk—at two in the afternoon! In an hour or so it would be pitch-dark and the sun had only appeared four hours earlier. Crazy place, crazy life.