by Ros Baxter
Gage tied up the horse, helped Lou off and then strode to the edge of the mountain and dragged in a deep breath. The air was cool and sweet, and an invisible bird mocked them. Lou stumbled over to him, her limbs still shaky from the physical and sensual assault of the ride, then stood beside him and tried to see it through his eyes.
The last twenty years had transformed the place. She remembered what people had said about Sunset Downs when she was a kid: that its glory days were behind it, that poor little Gage Westin was holding on, but it was crumbling around him; that it was going to take more than a kid and a drunk to turn it around. Lou’s skin tingled, thinking how wrong they had been.
‘It’s beautiful, Gage,’ she whispered, worried about breaking the spell of serenity that seemed to have fallen over him.
‘It’s all for her,’ he answered. He stretched his hands high above his head, bending his head to either side to extend the stretch to his neck. ‘Before she came, I worked hard.’ He shrugged and turned to look at Lou, his eyes burning green. ‘But I had no plan.’
Lou nodded, wanting to reach out to him, but not sure where it might lead, up here, like they were the last two people on earth.
‘Once she came, I knew it wasn’t good enough. I had to get serious.’ He swept his arms across the view. ‘So I did. I learned all about it – all the ways to make a quick buck so we could get set up for the future.’
Lou studied the property again, remembering Piper bragging about the guar. ‘Looks like you did.’
Gage paused, then nodded. ‘You know, there are a million ways the land can fuck you.’ He shook his head, taking his hat off and throwing it on the ground. ‘Fire, drought, pests.’ He ran his hand through his hair. ‘You gotta get in front of it. Diversify.’ He laughed, a low, wry sound. ‘Pray.’
Lou smiled at him. ‘You don’t strike me as the praying type.’
He laughed again. ‘Oh honey, I never knew a farmer who didn’t pray. For rain. For a break.’ He went over to the horse, unstrapping a blanket from a saddle bag and laying it out on a patch of grass under one of the larger trees. Then he patted the place beside him, motioning for her to join him. ‘One time, I even prayed for the damn bank manager to get run over by a bus.’
She sat carefully next to him, trying hard not to touch him. He was so appealing right now – like some kind of wild animal in its natural habitat.
But he wasn’t having her perching sensibly on the other end of the blanket. He slipped an arm around her and pulled her close. She didn’t resist, allowing herself to be pulled in to him, revelling in the vanilla-and-woodsmoke smells of him. His arm was wrapped around her shoulders, firm but relaxed, and she wanted to close her eyes and take a picture of the perfection of the moment. ‘And just in case you’re wondering, it doesn’t work. Prayer.’
Lou thought about all the things she had prayed for, during her time in Stone Mountain. ‘Amen to that.’
They sat, watching the view, listening to the birds, and, in Lou’s case, counting the slow thud of Gage’s heart where it pressed close to her ribs. Finally, she worked up the courage to jeopardise the moment.
‘What are you going to do?’
He stiffened a little, but didn’t move. ‘About that little fuckin’ upstart?’
Lou nodded. She tried to imagine how he must be feeling. It was not just the shock of the scene. It was how Piper’s new friend had reacted. There had been something off in him. A casual menace. Lou wondered if that quality about him seemed very grown-up and exciting to a seventeen-year-old girl.
Gage sighed, and tightened his hold on her. ‘I dunno,’ he said, drumming his fingers lightly on her shoulder. ‘She’s never had anyone before. And it’s not …’ He stopped and unhooked his arm from her shoulders to stand up. Lou felt the loss like a slash of grief. He stood facing her while she reclined on the blanket. ‘It’s not that I couldn’t imagine her having a’ – he swallowed, hard, like the word was choking him – ‘a boyfriend.’ He shrugged. ‘But there’s never been anyone before. Not even very many friends.’
Lou nodded, her chest contracting, watching the concern on his face.
‘It was our fault; she was kinda stuck to us. Me and Dad. And the place. We were her friends.’ He raised his hands as though pleading with her to understand. ‘I never did playdates and stuff. I was twenty, for Chrissakes. So she was different.’ He shrugged again. ‘And you know what kids are like, with difference.’
She did. They both did.
Those were possibly the most words she’d ever heard him say, in a row. She needed to help him out. ‘So I guess you didn’t expect to see her with someone like that?’
Gage kicked brutally at a clump of dirt. ‘I’ve never even seen anyone like that.’
‘I know what you mean.’ Lou hesitated. She had no place in this, but every time she thought about Piper, angry and humiliated, something hurt, low in her tummy. ‘You should go find her, when you get back,’ she said, standing up and reaching out to place a hand on his arm. ‘She’ll need to see you, no matter what you want to say.’
He nodded. ‘But what do I want to say?’
Lou shrugged. ‘You love her?’
Gage grinned wryly. ‘And if I ever see that smarmy bastard on the Downs again, I’ll shoot him in the balls?’
‘Maybe think about that part a little more.’ She hesitated again, a memory forming clear and perfect in her brain. ‘We don’t like to be told what to do.’
Gage reached out and touched a stray lock of hair that had fallen across Lou’s face, pushing it out of the way. ‘But you were always different.’ There was a tone in his voice that carried the faintest edge of accusation. She knew what he was thinking about: her, skipping out without a word after their one night together. She saw it there, in his gaze, looking at her when he thought she wasn’t noticing. The question burned at the back of his eyes. She knew he would never ask it, not after what had happened. He wouldn’t feel he had any right to. But they both knew he did.
Lou’s cheek tingled where he had brushed it. ‘She’s different too.’
‘Yeah,’ Gage agreed, his voice very soft as he touched a finger to her lips. ‘I was never going to be lucky enough to have easy women.’
Lou should have been offended at the suggestion that he ‘had’ her, like a possession. But she wasn’t. She knew he meant it the way he meant that he ‘had’ Sunset Downs – Gage and Sunset Downs were part of each other, just like Gage and Lou were. She felt it now, up here, watching him in this place he loved so much. Looking at him, a wave of desire crashed over her. She wanted him – as hard and bad as she had that night twenty years ago. And she could see in his face that he wanted her too.
‘Lou, I –’
She put a finger to his lips and stepped into his arms, smelling eucalypts and rich earth as she tipped her face up to his. His mouth moved quickly to cover hers, kissing her the way he had by the old jacaranda tree the night of the reunion; a kiss to scatter her good sense and stake a claim. Oh God, this was not a well-thought-out move. This was not the Lou who did things the right way; the Lou who was cautious and self-protective. This was some other, wild, mad Lou; a Lou that Sunset Downs and this man who belonged to it had taken possession of and would not let go.
‘I want you.’ His voice was a soft drawl.
She nodded, and he picked her up, just like he had a few nights before, and laid her down on the blanket. And all the musing and discussion ended. He was suddenly the Gage she had known at seventeen. He kissed her with the brutal surety of a boy who’d had every girl he’d ever wanted. He kissed her hard, and soft, and every way in between. He lay pressed half on top of her, the hot heavy weight of him overriding her senses. She didn’t know what she was doing. Nothing was resolved; nothing was right – between them or in this situation.
But she didn’t care. Not right now. She was pretty sure she would later; she would no doubt care a whole lot. But right now, after everything he had shared, she just wanted to roll up all
the lust and heat and mad wild energy that exploded inside her every time she was near him and hurl it at him. She wanted him to see who she really was; who they might have been if life had not royally fucked them both.
She wanted this one moment, with him. So she kissed him back. And the desperation in her kiss seemed to push him further over the edge. He grabbed both her wrists and pinned them to the blanket above her head with one of his huge hands, deepening the kiss so she lost all sense of place and self. Her chest strained against his, revelling in the sensation of his hard muscles against her breasts beneath her soft T-shirt.
But not for long. With his free hand, he lifted the T-shirt up to reveal her lacy red bra, examining the thing for a minute before he flicked the tiny front-clasp expertly and exposed her to his greedy gaze. Then he gave a guttural sigh and buried his face in her breasts, inhaling deeply. ‘You are so fucking perfect,’ he said, looking up momentarily.
Lou’s tummy cartwheeled outrageously, and she tried to pull her hands down from where they were pinned so she could touch his beautiful face and put her hands in his hair.
‘No way,’ he said, smiling as he tightened his grip on her wrists and returned his attentions to her breasts, stroking first one then the other with his free hand while he laced kisses across her face and neck, moving his lips down to complement the work of his hand.
Lou’s hips bucked against his, her desire dizzying as he touched and licked her. She shouldn’t want this; she knew it was going to make everything so much more complicated. This was a bad idea; a bad, bad idea. But somehow it was also the natural culmination of everything that had happened this afternoon. The scene in the shed, the ride – Gage opening up to her. They both had some demons to expel and right now, all Lou wanted was to be as close to him as human biology allowed.
She tugged at his zip, desperate to feel him in her hand, almost as desperate as she was to feel him inside her. There was no lazy pleasure in this, no slow exploration. It wasn’t lovemaking, it was exorcism. He groaned against her ear and helped her with his jeans, before making such short work of hers, with a quick unbutton, a flick and a couple of short tugs, that Lou remembered how badly he outclassed her.
Oh well, fuck it.
Today she was having him.
Let tomorrow deal with itself.
Chapter
7
Listen to your heart
Lou refused to indulge her strong desire to lie around in Gage’s guesthouse doodling pictures of hearts in her notebook and writing his name. No. So she was working at the little council chambers where she had spent many after-school homework sessions to avoid the noise and traffic at home. And so far her forensic accounting on behalf of her father had confirmed his initial assessment – the town was screwed. There seemed little way out of the mire of debt and bad decisions her father had inherited, despite his best efforts to ameliorate the worst of it and keep the whole thing afloat. She needed to pick through the ugly financial problems Stone Mountain was facing, break them into their component parts, lay out the options, and then form a plan; a plan that would let her get out of here before this town, and Gage Westin, bit any deeper into her soul.
She knew now that Gage was an indelible tattoo on her body and her heart. Try as she might to consign him to the past, he was never going to stay there comfortably, minding his manners. He was part of her. And everything might have changed, but nothing had changed, not really. Stone Mountain was still the epicentre of her worst nightmares. There was no future for her with Gage, despite the fact he had not grown into a debauched hoodlum as she had feared, and despite the amazing moment they had shared on that mountain yesterday; his life was here, a place Lou could never stay for very long.
She was here now because she had to be, that was all.
She did not love this town, despite the way the beauty of it could sometimes sneak up on her. She did not love these people, even though some of them seemed to have the ability to surprise her and spending time here made her neck relax and her body unclench in a way they never quite managed to back in the city.
At some point she was going to have to talk to Gage, address what had happened yesterday. She needed to think of their encounter as sex and chemistry. Unfortunately, she’d never really had enough of any of either to be good at playing casual. For now, any misplaced girly fantasies could just get back in their pink-and-sparkly, heart-shaped box. But, oh, her body still ached with the after-effects of his loving.
She smacked herself in the forehead and forced herself to concentrate. She needed a plan, or she might never leave. And what would happen to her then?
She pushed back the huge office chair she had been provided, in which her feet barely touched the floor and she felt ten years old again, and stared out the window. The little office didn’t have much going for it, except the prettiest view. She could see a neat slice of Main Street, its heritage buildings so spick and span you would never imagine Stone Mountain was in the throes of a fiscal crisis so ugly it may never find its way out.
Lou fanned her shirt a little. Barbara Jolimont, her father’s assistant, had raised both pencilled-on eyebrows when Lou had arrived this morning in full Sydney corporate uniform. What could Lou say? This was what she wore to think, and she’d had her PA pack up some clothes and courier them down to her, but the outfit seemed a lot less sensible now that the sharp white shirt was suctioned to her like some kind of clammy second skin, and the designer pencil skirt was protesting loudly against the black tights. Even her feet seemed to be staging a rebellion – hot and swollen and rejecting the razor-sharp patent stilettos that imprisoned them.
Her phone buzzed and she stabbed it in irritation. The number was blocked so it was bound to be work. ‘Samuels.’
‘Hey there, Samuels,’ the Texan oil man at the other end of the line said playfully. ‘How’s tricks in the Wild West?’
‘Fine thanks, Mac.’ She smiled into the phone.
His voice darkened. ‘I heard you got some personal stuff, Samuels. Hope it’s all okay.’
‘Fine,’ Lou said quickly, not willing to discuss her mother, and the rest of it, with Mac.
He took the hint. ‘Good. You haven’t forgotten your favourite client now, have you?’
Lou tapped her pencil at the desk. ‘I left you in good hands.’
‘Oh, sure you did, honey,’ the cowboy agreed amicably. ‘But you know I never feel quite as confident with those fuckin’ little baby lawyers as I do with you.’
Lou frowned. ‘I thought it was done.’
He laughed at the other end of the line. ‘Now don’t go gettin’ all uptight, honey pie,’ he said, clearly reading her mind. ‘We’re cool. Just t-crossing and i-dotting.’
Lou breathed out slowly. Roy Macrossin was worth big bucks to Forster and Klein. And on a personal note, they had developed an easy friendship. She wanted things to work out well for him. ‘Good. So what is it?’
Mac laughed again, so loud she had to hold the phone away from her ear. ‘Can’t I just call to say hi?’
It was Lou’s turn to laugh. ‘Not in my experience.’
‘Hmm,’ Mac agreed, and she could picture the big smile on his face as he leaned back in his chair in the office that overlooked Sydney Harbour. He was probably smoking too, despite the new building regulations. ‘Well, maybe you’re right.’ He paused. ‘Just thought I’d let you know not to stay away too long. I got a new thing happening. Soon.’
Lou’s professional spidey-sense tingled. ‘What is it?’
‘Ah now,’ he said, his voice lowering. ‘That would be telling.’
‘That would be the point, surely,’ Lou said, fanning her shirt again, ‘of calling me in the first place.’
‘Maybe,’ Mac said good-naturedly. ‘But we’ll talk soon enough.’
Lou stared at the phone after he hung up, took off her glasses, and cursed the heat. What manner of office, in 2014, was not air-conditioned? She stared up at the ceiling fan, which chose that moment to emit a
deep groan of irritation at the endless revolutions it was forced to execute to chase away the midday heat.
‘I hear ya, buddy.’
‘Who are you talking to?’
The voice surprised her. She spun on the chair, upsetting the coffee she had been largely ignoring, and letting out an expletive as she did.
‘I’m sorry,’ the girl said, her voice soft. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you.’
Lou jumped to her feet. ‘Oh no, you didn’t. I mean, you did a little, but I always spill stuff.’ She shrugged. ‘Clumsy.’
The girl looked like she hadn’t slept. Her tanned skin was paler than usual, and a sleep crease marked one cheek. Her eyes were red, and her blue jeans were rumpled. One slender silver earring hung against her lovely neck, the other forgotten or lost. Piper seemed nervous; transferring her weight from one leg to the other and fiddling with the zip on a simple brown leather satchel she had slung over her shoulder.
‘Did you want me?’ As she spoke the words, Lou almost slapped herself on the forehead. Of course Piper wanted her; why else would she be standing here in front of her, in this sad, makeshift office? Honestly, Lou was bad enough with grown-ups, but it had been a long time since she’d had any experience with children, and she was almost sure she was cocking this up royally. ‘I mean, hi there.’
Piper grinned, and Lou was sure she was thinking what a geek the older woman was. Well, Lou decided, squaring her shoulders, she was right. And there wasn’t much Lou could do about it.
‘Wanna grab lunch?’ She avoided Lou’s eyes and Lou’s heart ached, big and raw in her chest. Lou understood wanting something and not being sure if you should ask for it.
Lou nodded furiously. ‘Hell, yeah,’ she said, grabbing her bag from a nearby filing cabinet. ‘I’m starving.’
She fell in step with Piper as they made for the door. ‘Grandpa has a way of saying he’s starving,’ she said, giggling a little. The small laugh sounded good, after how sad Piper had looked when she arrived. ‘He says –’ Piper squared her shoulders, dropped her chin and deepened her voice. ‘“I could eat the arse out of a low-flying duck.”’ She giggled again and somehow the anecdote broke the tension that had been building since the girl had arrived. Lou started laughing along with her.