The Goodbye Girl

by Angela Verdenius

“Yeah.”

  “For dinner, I mean.”

  “Mmmm. I mean, yes.” She blinked, cleared her throat. “That’s exactly what I meant.”

  “Sure you did.” Giving the tip of her nose a light flick with his finger, Nick straightened and opened the door for her to precede him. “Where’s the door key?”

  “Here.” She held it up as she passed.

  He snagged it neatly, pushing her ahead of him when she stopped with a protest on her lips.

  “I can lock the door, you know,” she said.

  “I know. Humour me.” He locked the doors securely, handed the key back to her and hustled her over to the Landcruiser. “Man, its cold out tonight.”

  Setting her in the passenger seat, he hurried around the bonnet, his breath coming from him in white puffs. Once he had the engine on, he flicked on the heater, both of them sighing in pleasure as the warmth hit them.

  Several cars were parked outside the pub, and they hurried into the warmth. There weren’t many people around, though Nick recognised Bill, the cook from the café, sitting at the bar. Bill nodded to him, he nodded back, and unsaid greetings over, Nick placed a hand at Bree’s back and manoeuvred her over to the dining section.

  “Maybe I should just put a steering wheel on my back,” she commented.

  “Where’s the fun in that? This way I get to manhandle you a little.” He pulled the chair out for her, waited until she sat before taking the chair opposite.

  Bree glanced around. “Quiet night.”

  There was only one other couple in the dining section and five patrons at the bar.

  “Probably tucked up at home in front of the fire,” Nick suggested.

  “Good place to be.”

  His gaze shot from the bar to her. “You didn’t want to come out?”

  “What? No. I mean, yes, I did want to come. I’m just saying that cold winter nights tucked up on the sofa with a good book or scary movie is a good place to be.” Folding her arms, she leaned on the table and smiled at him. “So is being out, wined and dined, and sharing top secrets.”

  “Speaking of top secrets…” Nick eyed her. “How do you handle being out in the cold and rain on a UFO hunt when you prefer being tucked up on the sofa?”

  “Hey, I never said I prefer it. I said it’s a good place to be. But I also like being out on a UFO hunt.”

  “In the cold and wet.”

  “There are such things as raincoats and gumboots. Did you know that?”

  “I know you’re full of sass.”

  “Gonna do the count down again?”

  He just knew his eyes had a wolfish gleam. “Want me to?”

  She blushed. “Change of subject.” She paused. “No, wait, let’s talk about something.”

  “That sounds intriguing.” Boy, did it ever, especially in connection with what they’d just said. “How about I get a couple of drinks and we settle down for a cosy chat?”

  “Better make mine a strong one. Orange juice straight up, no ice.”

  “Tough sheila.” Laughing, Nick went to the bar, returning with the orange juice for Bree and a Coke for himself.

  “Rum and Coke?” she guessed. “For a cosy chat?”

  “No alcohol, honey, I’m driving. If I wasn’t, I’d have a light beer.”

  “I can drive you home if you want a beer.”

  The woman never ceased to surprise him. “That’s really nice, but I’m fine with Coke. I don’t need a skinful to have a good time.”

  Her smile practically beamed.

  Taking a mouthful of Coke, he eyed her over the rim. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

  The smile faded, a hint of colour staining her cheeks. Glancing down, she ran her fingers up and down the glass of orange juice. “Uh…well….”

  Interesting. Nick watched in curious anticipation. With Bree, he never knew what she’d say next.

  “Uh…yes…hmmm.” She sipped at the orange juice, raised her eyes to the ceiling and frowned.

  “That bad?” he queried.

  “Just wondering how to put it.”

  “Want my advice?”

  Her gaze dropped to his.

  “Just lay it on the line.”

  “I usually do.”

  “So what’s stopping you this time?”

  Resting one elbow on the table, she lifted her hand to twirl a lock of dark brown hair around her forefinger. “Nothing.”

  Silently he watched her.

  Her cheeks went a little darker. “Are you into domestic discipline?”

  He blinked. “Am I what?”

  “This countdown thing…”

  Ah. Angling his head to one side, he studied her.

  “I know some couples are into domestic discipline. That’s fine, that’s their thing, but me…” She shrugged, looked him gamely in the eyes. “I don’t do that.”

  Nick raised his eyebrows. “You think I do?”

  “That countdown thing yesterday… Nick, I can’t be in a relationship where I have to watch everything I say in case I anger you and you…you know.”

  Shit. He’d buggered that one up. Reaching over, he laid his hand atop hers where it rested on the tabletop. “Honey, I’m sorry if I gave you that impression. No, I’m not into domestic discipline. You’re an independent woman, and sometimes I might overstep my mark in wanting to protect you. We’ll disagree. You’re free to disagree, as am I. I’m not going to go all discipline on you, okay?”

  “Okay.” She looked relieved. “Yesterday…?”

  He eyed her. How far to go?

  “Come on, Nick, lay it on the line. If we’re clearing any doubts between us, then it’s your turn.” When he still remained silent, she narrowed her eyes at him. “Truth.”

  “Fine.” Abruptly, he nodded. “I haven’t been in many relationships, certainly not serious ones. It’s a part of my nature to be protective of those I care about.”

  She nodded encouragingly.

  “I can tolerate a lot of things.”

  Another nod.

  “But I won’t tolerate you running yourself down.”

  No nod this time. Bree pursed her lips. “I was joking.”

  “No, you weren’t,” he replied bluntly. “You’re a pretty woman with a confidence often lacking in women with your figure, and I won’t have you tearing that confidence down in a moment of self doubt.”

  “I didn’t-”

  “I also value truth between a couple.”

  She paused. Thought about it. Frowned.

  “For a relationship to work there has to be honesty and respect,” Nick stated quietly.

  “I agree. But…”

  “No ‘buts’.”

  “See, it’s that kind of thing that annoys me.”

  “That’s just how I roll, honey.”

  She stared at him for several seconds before letting out a small laugh. “Really? You’re going to try that?”

  “Works for you.” He grinned. “Equality in a relationship, babe.”

  “Oh, so I guess that means if you run yourself down I get to do the five second countdown?”

  Leaning back against his chair, he tapped the fingertips of one hand on the tabletop and studied her. Man, with that gamine grin on her face and those eyes sparkling with a daring mischief, she looked like a mischievous sprite. A very lush, enticing, sexy sprite. He could eat her right up. One day…soon… “Sure.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. Five second rule applies to either of us who runs ourselves down.”

  Suspiciously, her eyes narrowed. “You don’t run yourself down.”

  He smiled slightly.

  “I don’t think it’s fair.”

  “Honey, all you have to do is remember not to run yourself down.”

  “But-”

  “See, that kind of thing annoys me.”

  “Don’t quote me, boyo.”

  “Not so sure of yourself?”

  “You’re just trying to get me to agree to that ludicrous idea.”


  “Scared?” He smirked.

  Bree frowned.

  Nick kept smirking. Wait for it. Wait for it.

  “It’s a redundant agreement anyway, because I don’t run myself down.” She tossed her head.

  “Great to hear.” He nodded. “In which case the agreement stands because you have nothing to be worried about.”

  For several seconds she studied him before a smile curved her lips. “You are so full of crap.”

  Nick laughed. You have no idea.

  “Such a kidder.”

  “Sure I am.” He waited until she looked away before adding, “Or maybe not.”

  Her gaze snapped back to him.

  “Guess you’ll have to break the agreement to find out.” Oh yeah, that got you.

  With a sniff, she lifted the glass of orange juice. “We’ll see who breaks it first.”

  “Telling me it won’t be you?”

  “I’m a gorgeous woman with a to-die-for figure.” She smirked right back at him. “What about you?” Tipping the glass to her lips, she eyed him daringly over the rim.

  “I’m a handsome devil who buys large-size condoms.” He watched her choke on the orange juice and re-gain her gasping composure before adding, “In economy-size boxes.” Plucking several paper napkins from the holder in the middle of the table, he kindly handed them to her. “Here, honey.”

  “You drongo.” She shook her hand. “I’m going to the bathroom to wash my hands. Now they’re sticky with orange juice thanks to you.”

  “Just be honest.”

  “You can take that innocent expression and stick it up your-”

  “Five.” At her startled expression, he burst out laughing, holding up his hands palms out. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding. Go wash your hands and I’ll order us something to eat.” Amused, he watched her stand up.

  Revenge is sweet,” she threatened.

  “Looking forward to it. Do you have a preference for dinner?”

  “Soldier on a stick.”

  “Honey, you can eat me anytime you want.”

  Bree blushed then laughed. “You arse.” Turning on her heel, she tossed over her shoulder, “I have a hankering for porterhouse steak, chips and salad. Steak well done.”

  “Got it.” Still grinning, Nick went to the bar to place the order. When he turned away it was to find Paul standing beside him.

  “G’day,” Paul greeted him. “Date?”

  “Fifth of June.”

  “Cute.” Paul jerked a thumb towards the door across the room which lead to the hallway and toilets. “I saw the hairdresser that was sitting at your table heading for the toot.”

  “Very observant of you.”

  “Nothing gets past me.” Paul winked.

  “Hence the pregnant wife. I’d say the hole in the condom got passed you.”

  “Hey, this was a planned pregnancy.”

  “Sure.” Nick clapped him on the shoulder. “You keep telling yourself that.”

  “Wait until it’s you, mate. Wait until you’ve got yourself a ball and chain and want to add a set of handcuffs to it.”

  “That’s a unique way of putting marriage and adding children.”

  “I’m nothing if not unique.”

  “I wouldn’t brag about that in public, if I were you.”

  Paul flipped him the bird.

  Nick laughed.

  “Hang about a minute.” Paul gave the bartender his order before turning to again face Nick. “So. Army life.”

  Nick raised his eyebrows.

  “You planning on going back?”

  “That’s the plan at this stage.”

  “I mean permanently.”

  Nick shrugged.

  Paul nodded to the bartender as he picked up the glass of beer and glass of lemonade. “Thanks.” He started walking across the floor towards a far table. “You’re sheila isn’t back yet, probably still gabbing with Becky in the ‘loo. Listen, Nick, you do good repairs and handyman work.”

  “Thanks.” Curiously, Nick halted at Paul’s table as he set the glasses down.

  Straightening, Paul studied him seriously. “You ever think of doing repair work as a living?”

  “You offering me a job, Paul?”

  “I’m saying there’re opportunities for a good handyman in Whicha and the surrounding area.”

  Nick slid his hands into his pockets. “Yeah.”

  “Good opportunities.”

  “I noticed.”

  Paul’s gaze was steady. “You ever think of leaving the military?”

  “Yeah.” It surprised Nick that he’d actually admit it to Paul, but he liked the man, respected him. “Yeah, I have.”

  “So what holds you back?”

  “Been in the military since I was eighteen.” Nick shrugged.

  “And…?”

  “Loved it.”

  “But you’ve thought of leaving.” Paul’s eyes were shrewd.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I have.”

  “Where would you go?”

  Nick smiled slightly. “I think you know.”

  “Here.”

  “Yep.”

  Paul smiled back. “It’s a great place to be. Raise a family, have a job.”

  “I noticed.”

  “But the military calls you, too.”

  “Yeah.” Nick thought of the things he’d seen, the things he’d done. “The military has done a lot for me. I’ve seen a lot, learned a lot. It’s a good life.”

  Paul waited a few seconds before prompting, “But?”

  “But…” He rolled his shoulders, frowned slightly. “It’s not everything. Not for me, anyway.”

  “Itchy feet?”

  Nick thought about it before admitting, “I’m coming to a crossroads, Paul. In another five months my time is up and I either reenlist or leave.”

  “Any idea what you’ll be doing?” Paul took a mouthful of his beer.

  “I’m thinking…” Nick exhaled, rubbed his jaw. “I’m seriously thinking of not reenlisting.”

  Paul nodded.

  “Been thinking about it for awhile.”

  Paul glanced behind Nick then back at him. “Returning to Whicha have anything to do with it?”

  “Some,” he admitted. “I’ve been thinking about it for awhile, and now I’m here I’m rediscovering my love for handyman work. And for control of my own life and decisions.” He gazed through the big pub window over Paul’s shoulder, watched the car lights along the main road. “I’m needing a new direction.”

  “Lot to think about.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Ever talk to Alex about this?”

  “He knows I’m thinking about it.”

  “What’s he saying about it?”

  “I have to make my own decisions.”

  “Big enough and ugly enough to do it yourself, eh?”

  Nick grinned. “Alex is a straight-talker.”

  “He’s also Army through and through.”

  “No doubt about it.”

  “Think he’ll ever give it up?”

  “One day. Not yet.”

  “You talking retirement or not reenlisting?”

  “No idea. All I know is that whatever happens, he’ll first talk to Harly. Until then, he’s Army.” Nick transferred his gaze to Paul. “What about you?”

  “Shit, mate, I’m a country boy through and through. My work, home and family is here, and here is right where I want to be.” He glanced again over Nick’s shoulder. “Here comes the ball and chain now.”

  Amused, Nick stepped aside to watch Becky approach, her very pregnant belly leading the way. “Where’s your first handcuff?”

  “His grandparents are babysitting him.” Paul moved forward, laid a hand at Becky’s waist as he smiled down at her. “How’s the water-works, baby?”

  She gave him a sour look. “Really? You’re inquiring about my bladder in front of another man?”

  “He’s Army,” Paul said, as though that explained everything. “Nothing can shock
him.”

  “He might be shocked if I throttle you.”

  “What did I do now?”

  Becky gave Nick a long-suffering sigh. “Do I really need to explain it to him?”

  “He’s Paul,” Nick replied kindly. “Do what you have to do.”

  She laughed, Paul looked genuinely puzzled, and Nick left them to it. Turning, he saw that Bree was sitting at the table chatting to Leticia, the part-time waitress from the café.

  Bree looked happy, her smile genuine, her carefree laughter lightly filling the air. The woman was sunshine and fun, an enchanting mix of sweetness and independence.

  Yeah, Whicha called to him in more ways than one. There was the town itself, the area that he liked, the people he’d gained as friends, the lifestyle, the promise of a new beginning…...and then there was Bree.

  He’d only known her personally for a short time, but he knew, he just knew, that as he wanted to make Whicha his home, he wanted to make Bree his wife.

  Chapter 7

  Carefully sectioning off a lock of hair, Bree combed it, smoothed it over the tin foil, brushed the solution carefully over it, folded the foil over to cover it, slid it down a little and started on the next section of Sarah’s hair.

  The chatter in Bella’s hair salon was lively, her boss and the other hairdresser, Michelle, chatting to their customers as they attended their hair.

  The talk was on UFOs and Charlotte’s latest claim that she’d seen numerous lights over Ted’s fields the previous night.

  Bella glanced at Bree. “SO?”

  “So what?” Bree replied.

  “So what do you think?”

  “I’m actually thinking nothing right now.” Which was a lie, she was actually thinking about a certain soldier boy and how cute he was. If ruggedly handsome could be labelled ‘cute’, but some of the things he did could certainly be labelled cute.

  Such as sitting on the sofa the night before with Sheba perched on the armrest nattering away to him in her shrieking meow. Give the man credit, he barely flinched. Bast had been lying on her back on his lap, getting her belly gently rubbed while she paddled the air in bliss.

  Now that was cute. Big, tough, soldier boy entertaining the cats.

  “Really?” Sarah interrupted Bree’s thoughts. “But UFOs are your thing.”

  Bree smiled at Sarah’s reflection. “Just UFOs? Are you sure?”

  “Don’t tell me there’s more in that nutty head of yours.”