Real Men Don't Quit

by Coleen Kwan

  Tyler set Chloe on her feet and said to Luke, “Have a look around while I get the machine going. How do you like your coffee?”

  “Double espresso, please.”

  “You must like your caffeine.”

  “It’s been one of those mornings.”

  Yes, it sure had. She settled Chloe at a corner table with her drawing paper and crayons. Chloe would be quite happy doodling and coloring for about half an hour, but after that, she’d get antsy. Her babysitter was suffering from shingles, so it would be two weeks or more before she’d recover. How was Tyler going to cope with a fidgety three-year-old for four whole hours? Not to mention tomorrow, and the day after that. There was little time to find a replacement, and besides, she didn’t want to dump Chloe with a stranger.

  Pushing aside her worries, she moved to the espresso machine. Luke had wandered over to the gallery section of the store and was studying the items intently. As he bent over a glass display, she couldn’t help noticing how his jeans clung snugly to his backside. Heaven help her, she was ogling the man’s butt. The same man who’d insinuated she was too inept to take care of her own daughter. She frowned and concentrated on the coffee grinder. But she couldn’t stop herself from taking another peek at Luke’s behind. He might be full of himself but he had the kind of lean, athletic physique she had a weakness for in a man.

  He straightened up and glanced across at her. “Hey, I just read the label. These are yours.” Looking surprised, he tapped the glass cabinet he’d been leaning over. “The earrings and necklaces.”

  “I’m a jewelry maker, too. In fact, that’s how Ally, my partner, and I teamed up. I used to make jewelry for her gift store here before it was destroyed by a couple of joyriders.”

  “You have time to make jewelry on top of running this place and looking after Chloe?” For once, he seemed impressed by her.

  Trying to ignore the tiny spurt of gratification, she tamped the ground coffee into the filter and attached it to the espresso machine. “I make time.”

  She had to. Jewelry making had been her main source of income before, but now running the business consumed more time than she’d imagined. She was also working on a commission for a high-profile client. Crystal Kerrigan, well-known TV personality and local celebrity, had asked her to make a special-occasion necklace, which would net Tyler valuable exposure and a tidy sum. And with the business consuming all her time and resources, Tyler needed every cent she could get.

  “I really like your stuff,” Luke said, still studying her jewelry. “You have a unique eye for color and texture.”

  Her heart gave a little leap, to her surprise. Did she care that much about Luke’s opinion? She’d only known him a few hours. “Thanks. Jewelry making is about the only thing I’m good at.”

  “Did you go to art college? Work an apprenticeship?”

  She snorted. “Wish I had. No, when I left school I was a bit of a wild child, only interested in having a good time, not studying.” She’d been desperate to leave Burronga and reinvent herself somewhere new. Poor Aunt Daphne had tried to talk some sense into her, but like so many eighteen-year-olds, Tyler had thought she knew best. Six years later, she’d returned to Burronga, this time with Chloe and a whole different set of priorities. “I’ve done the odd course, but I’m largely self-taught. I have a workshop at home.”

  The coffee poured out of the machine in a rich, dark flow, filling the store with its aroma. “Here you go, one double espresso.”

  Luke walked over and perched on a stool at the counter. He downed a large gulp of the piping hot coffee, closed his eyes, and let out a satisfied sigh. “Ah, that hits the spot. You make a mean coffee, Tyler.”

  Again, that disconcerting burst of satisfaction at his praise. Chloe ran up to show Luke her drawing, and Tyler took the opportunity to wipe the counter and settle herself down.

  The door swung open, and Fiona from the bookshop across the street came in. She was one of their regular coffee customers, but she wasn’t one of Tyler’s favorite people. Fiona had a degree in English literature, a fact she dropped into conversation often, as if to emphasize she wasn’t only a bookseller. As she walked toward the counter, Chloe dashed back to her table, narrowly avoiding Fiona, and the woman darted a sour glance at the little girl. Last month, Chloe had damaged a couple of children’s books in Fiona’s bookshop, and even though Tyler had paid for them, it seemed the bookseller hadn’t yet forgiven the girl.

  Still, a customer was a customer. Tyler put on cheerful voice as she said, “Hi, Fiona. Your usual soy milk cappuccino?”

  “Yes, please.” Fiona stopped at the counter, looked at Luke, and did an almost comical double take.

  Luke, having just taken a gulp of coffee, nodded at her. Fiona gaped at him, a crimson blush spotting her cheeks as her mouth flapped open and shut like a goldfish. “E-excuse m-me, but aren’t you Luke Maguire?”

  Tyler glanced back at Luke as a resigned, hunted expression flickered across his face. “Yes, that’s me,” he admitted, slowly lowering his cup.

  Fiona pushed forward, face flushed, eyes devouring him. “Oh, I can’t believe it! Luke Maguire, right here in Burronga. Luke Maguire!” Without warning, she grabbed his hand and pumped it up and down energetically. “Oh my goodness, oh my goodness. I think I’m going to faint. I’m Fiona Macintosh, by the way, and I’m a huge, huge fan of your work. Literature has always been my passion. In fact, I studied English Literature at your alma mater, Sydney University. This is such an honor. Oh, you have no idea.”

  Tyler frowned. Fiona was gushing like a fire hydrant. Was Luke more famous than he’d let on? She turned to him. “Someone knows who you are.”

  Luke toyed with his coffee cup, looking uncomfortable. “Yeah, it appears Fiona has read my book.”

  “You mean the Kingsley Jacobs book?”

  “Kingsley Jeffers,” Fiona hissed at Tyler. “The book’s called Kingsley Jeffers’s Journey.” She swiveled back to Luke, her tone returning to oily. “It’s a masterpiece. Pure genius. I’ve read all your earlier works, too. Your short stories—marvelous.”

  “So Luke’s book is a bit of a hit, is it?” Tyler directed her question to Fiona.

  The woman gaped at Tyler. “A bit of a hit? It’s been a New York Times bestseller for weeks. Luke’s been on The Today Show, the one in the U.S.,” she emphasized. “He’s been voted one of the best young writers in Australia. I’d say he’s more than a bit of a hit.”

  Tyler swallowed down the retort rising to her lips, but her blood pressure remained high. As annoyed as she was with Fiona, she was also miffed with Luke. In the car, she’d assumed he was a struggling, obscure writer, and he hadn’t bothered to set her straight. Not because he was too modest—in her limited experience, she already knew Luke had more than enough self-assurance. So why? Because he enjoyed snickering at her ignorance behind her back? She shot a frown in his direction, but his expression was shuttered, as if he didn’t want to talk about himself.

  As Tyler returned to the espresso machine, Fiona plumped herself on the stool next to Luke, looking like she wouldn’t budge all day.

  “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but are you working on the sequel to Kingsley Jeffers’s Journey? I’m dying to know what happens to him. I read somewhere that your next book is due out very soon. I can’t wait. Do you know when it’ll be published?”

  Luke stared down at his empty cup. “I’m sorry, but I never discuss my current work-in-progress. It’s just how I am.”

  “Oh, of course. I totally understand how the author’s mind works. I’ve done a bit of writing myself, you know.” Fiona preened the tips of her hair. “I wrote a piece of fiction involving Ada Lovelace while I was completing my master’s degree in literature.” Tyler rolled her eyes, but Fiona forged on, unchecked. “It was shortlisted in a competition, and one of the judges said it was good enough for publication.” She tilted her head. “I wonder if perhaps you might…oh no, I couldn’t possibly impose on you…”

 
; Luke pushed to his feet, digging into the pocket of his jeans. “How much do I owe you for the coffee?” he asked Tyler with a hint of desperation.

  “Nothing. I told you it’s on the house.”

  “Oh, right. Thanks. I’d better be on my way. I’ve got a few things to buy.” He began to edge past Fiona, but she touched him on the arm, forestalling him.

  “Mr. Maguire…”

  “Please, call me Luke,” he said stiffly.

  Fiona gave him a syrupy smirk. “Luke, are you staying in town?”

  “For a few weeks.”

  “Oh, perfect! I own the bookstore across the street, and I was wondering if you could do a reading there one night. It would be such an honor. You have so many fans here in Burronga.”

  The trapped expression on Luke’s face intensified. “I don’t really have the time to spare—”

  “Oh, not even half an hour? I promise it won’t be more than that. After all, you’ve done readings in New York and San Francisco and Sydney. This is practically your hometown. Can’t you see your way at all?” Fiona simpered at him until she was practically bug-eyed.

  “Well…”

  Before he could continue, Fiona clapped her hands. “Excellent! I knew you’d say yes. How about next Thursday at six?”

  Luke backed away, hunting for his car keys. “I’ve got some errands to run right now. Why don’t I give you a call later?”

  “Fantastic!” Fiona produced a business card from her purse and pressed it into Luke’s hand, her fingers clinging to him for way too long. “Here are all my details,” she breathed. “Call me anytime.”

  Nodding and pulling himself free, he glanced toward Tyler. “Thanks for the coffee. See you later.”

  “Fantastic meeting you! Looking forward to your reading!” Fiona continued to coo after him even as he made a fast exit out the store.

  Tyler watched as he jumped into his car and pulled off like he’d just robbed a bank. She didn’t blame him. Fiona in full bore was about as stoppable as a tornado.

  “Oh, isn’t he something else?” Fiona grabbed a paper napkin and fanned herself. “Luke Maguire, mmm, the thinking woman’s crumpet.”

  Not just “thinking” women, Tyler thought. He was any woman’s crumpet. Pity Fiona was one of them. There was something off-putting about the woman’s flushed cheeks and sly leer. But hang on; hadn’t she herself been admiring Luke’s butt not five minutes ago? Damn, she was just as bad as Fiona. Holding her silence, Tyler pushed the takeaway cappuccino toward the other woman.

  Fiona seemed in no rush to get back to her bookstore. “Did you see that Range Rover he was driving?” she said, leaning her elbow on the counter as she sipped her coffee. “He’s not short of money.”

  “Oh?” On the ride into town, Tyler had been too engrossed with other things to notice Luke’s car, but now she recalled its shiny paintwork, plush interior, and unmistakable new-call smell. That Range Rover must have cost a bomb.

  “He’s sold millions of books, and his advance for the sequel is six figures. That’s a lot of money,” Fiona added, as if Tyler needed clarification.

  Tyler pressed her lips together. Not because of Fiona’s presumption, but because the idea of Luke being a wealthy man jarred with her. She liked it better when she’d thought he was a hard-up writer. Having money changed things. She didn’t know why; it just did.

  “I didn’t realize he was so famous,” Tyler said.

  “Well, maybe you should try reading something more challenging once in a while. I have a list of recommended books if you’re ever interested.”

  Tyler drew in a breath. “More challenging?”

  Fiona turned red. “Oh, I just meant you probably don’t have much time to read what with your child and your jewelry making and everything,” she hurriedly said. “I didn’t mean to imply your reading tastes are inferior. Goodness me, my bookstore caters to all preferences. I simply meant that Luke Maguire’s work is probably very different from what you’re used to, that’s all.”

  Fiona’s clumsy apology was as limp as week-old lettuce, but Tyler didn’t feel like continuing the argument. Truth was, when she did have time to read, she preferred paranormal romances, where she could forget her everyday worries.

  “I take it there aren’t any vampires or werewolves in this Kingston Jeffers’s Journey book of Luke’s?” she asked.

  “It’s Kingsley Jeffers’s Journey.” Fiona half rolled her eyes again. “And no, there’s nothing supernatural about it. It’s a literary novel about an Australian ex-pat author in New York, cutting a swathe through the intelligentsia and leaving behind a trail of broken hearts. More than a touch autobiographical, in my opinion.”

  Promising herself to look up what intelligentsia meant, Tyler replied, “So lots of sex scenes, then?”

  “Oh, if only,” Fiona tittered. “No, it’s not explicit, more’s the pity. I’m sure he’s very good at sex scenes, given his reputation.”

  Tyler chewed her lip. She shouldn’t be gossiping about Luke with Fiona, but she couldn’t help asking, “His reputation with women?”

  “Mmm. Especially after his affair with Jennifer Kruger.”

  Tyler wrinkled her nose. “Jennifer Kruger? Isn’t she that TV presenter on Channel Nine? Luke had an affair with her?” She shook her head, picturing the glamorous, articulate woman who appeared on the current affairs program every night. Jennifer Kruger wasn’t just attractive and polished, she was also an award-winning journalist. That was the kind of woman Luke dated?

  “For a short while, then it all went to pieces.” Fiona pursed her lips. “Or should I say, Jennifer Kruger went to pieces when they suddenly split up. He left her heartbroken, according to all the gossip magazines. I’m surprised you’ve never heard about it.”

  “I’ve been busy with this.” Tyler gestured around the store. She was surprised Fiona, with her English Literature degree, deigned to read gossip magazines. Perhaps she wasn’t so bad after all.

  As if she’d read her mind, Fiona quickly added, “I don’t buy those magazines, of course. I only flick through them at the supermarket checkout. Anyway, the breakup hit Jennifer hard. She even went off air a couple of nights and came back looking pale and upset.”

  Tyler frowned. “That sucks. I didn’t take him for a tomcat.” This was a warning to stay clear of him.

  “Oh, no, I don’t think he’s a Lothario. From what I’ve read, when it comes to women, Luke Maguire is the classic rolling stone who’s determined not to gather any moss. But that doesn’t stop women from falling for him. Maybe Jennifer Kruger thought she’d be the one to reform him. Turned out she wasn’t.”

  Fiona rose to her feet and picked up her takeaway coffee. “Must dash off and start publicizing Luke’s reading next week. Ooh, I can’t wait. Luke Maguire in my bookstore. Gives me goose bumps.” She hurried off with a slightly manic look on her face. Tyler shook her head as she returned the milk to the fridge.

  “She’s a mean lady,” Chloe piped up from her table.

  Tyler shut the fridge. “Oh, baby, you shouldn’t say things like that.”

  “I didn’t say it to her face!”

  Tyler had trouble hiding her grin. “That’s good, baby, but Fiona’s not mean. She’s …wrapped up in herself, that’s all.”

  Chloe thought about that, head tipped to one side. “Mumma, what’s a tomcat?”

  Oh, boy. She really should pay more attention to what she said in Chloe’s presence. “Uh, it’s a cat called Tom.”

  She hadn’t enjoyed discussing Luke with Fiona, but at least she’d been forewarned about his reputation. Luke might set her blood humming, but he was a lone wolf who’d dumped a beautiful, intelligent, famous woman. She should keep that in mind the next time she caught herself drooling over him.

  …

  All morning, Java & Joolz buzzed with activity. Tyler took delivery of their daily order of muffins, cakes, pies, and sandwiches. She made coffees, washed up, chatted with their regulars. Chloe alternately charmed
everyone and made a nuisance of herself, as she predictably grew bored with drawing.

  At midday, Tyler breathed a sigh of relief when her friend and business partner, Ally, arrived. She was accompanied by Nate, her fiancé, who delayed her entry by giving her several lingering kisses before disappearing to his office above the store. Ally came in pink-cheeked and slightly out of breath.

  Tyler gave her a wink, happy to see her friend so head over heels in love. “Glad to see you two love birds haven’t lost any of the magic yet.”

  Still looking dreamy, Ally stowed her bag behind the counter. “Oh, the magic’s never going away.”

  Hope that’s true. Tyler kept her skepticism to herself. Her own big love adventure had soon turned into disaster, and the only good thing to come out of it had been Chloe. After that, Tyler had guarded her heart much more fiercely. Not that it required much protection. So far, she hadn’t met any man who even came close to scaling her barriers. That didn’t mean she avoided men, but she kept them in their place, which was a distant fourth or fifth after everything else in her life.

  But Ally was different. Sweet, soft, romantic Ally had given her heart and soul to Nate, and very soon would be making things official.

  “How are the wedding plans coming along?” Tyler asked as she rinsed out a milk jug.

  Some of the mistiness faded from Ally’s expression. She picked up a cloth and began to wipe the counter. “Oh, uh, good. Fine. No problem.”

  Tyler eyed her closer. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really.” Ally rubbed at a spot as if her life depended on it.

  The shop was temporarily empty, and Chloe was at her corner table playing with Mr. Piggy. Tyler touched her friend on the shoulder. “We both know you’re a hopeless liar. Now tell me what’s bothering you. Is it the wedding?”

  Sighing, Ally balled up her cloth and nodded. “Don’t tell Nate, but I want to postpone it.”

  Tyler drew in a breath. “But why? We’ve got the business up and running. Now’s a perfect time for your wedding.”

  “I just think we should wait until next year.”

  “Next year! I bet Nate wouldn’t be happy to hear that.”