Home for the Holidays

by Sarah Mayberry

  Well, I guess that answers that question. No goodbyes, no regrets. Time to haul ass, Napier.

  She turned away and eased the throttle open. The bike took off down the street. She told herself not to look back again, but she couldn’t resist a glance in the rearview mirror.

  Her mother was turning toward her house, but Joe and Ruby and Ben still stood watching her. For the first time she saw emotion on Joe’s face—disappointment, frustration, regret. Then the road demanded her attention and she turned the corner and they were gone.

  For a moment her grip eased on the throttle and the bike slowed.

  He feels it, too. The pull of what might have been.

  But she’d made her decision. As she’d told her mother last night, she wasn’t prepared to gamble with her heart again, and she was at the beginning of a lifelong dream. There was nothing to do but look forward.

  JOE WENT OVER AND OVER those last few minutes with Hannah during the following weeks. He should have said something. Given her his best wishes. Made a joke, at the very least. Instead, he’d stood there and let her ride away.

  He told himself it was for the best. Safer. Easier. But when he came home at night and saw the garage door at the Napier house firmly down, he remembered what it had been like to make Hannah laugh, and how soft her skin was and how kind she’d been to his children. It was the same at work—every time a slim, brown-haired woman walked into The Watering Hole his gut got tight, then he’d blink and realize it wasn’t Hannah and that she wasn’t coming back anytime soon.

  For the first time in two years Beth was absent from his dreams. There was only Hannah, her body firm and warm under his hands, her taste in his mouth. Teasing him, then walking away. Or staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to say or do the one thing that would make her stay.

  The first postcard arrived on the Wednesday after she left. It was from Eden and showed a fishing fleet sailing out into the ocean, an arc of golden sand marking the shore. Hannah wrote that the weather was fine and that she’d stopped on the way north to help a couple with a broken-down car on the freeway. She missed Ruby and her new gloves were the best she’d ever owned. Lastly, she asked Ruby to say hello to everyone for her.

  Ruby read it out loud three times before solemnly pressing the first pin into the map. She’d mounted it on the cork bulletin board on her bedroom wall and every time he tucked her into bed he saw that lone pushpin and thought of Hannah.

  “Do you think she’s thinking of us the way we’re thinking of her, Daddy?” Ruby asked exactly one week after Hannah had departed.

  “She sent you a postcard. That means she must be thinking of you,” he said.

  Ruby stared hard at the map. “Do you think she’ll be back by Christmas? I really want her to be home for my birthday.”

  “I don’t know, sweetheart. It’s three months away, but Australia is a big country, there’s a lot for her to see. You probably shouldn’t bank on it.”

  He felt like a complete fraud since he’d been doing the exact same calculations in his head. How long till she reached Queensland? How long till she’d traversed the Northern Territory? How much time to explore Central Australia? When would she head west? And, finally, when would she make her way home again?

  Might as well ask how long a piece of string was. Part of the appeal of this trip for Hannah was the freedom of the road, the ability to move at her own pace and explore at her leisure. She’d explained it all to him over their one-and-only dinner, her eyes alight with excitement and anticipation. If she found somewhere she loved, she planned to stay awhile, get some casual work, get to know the locals. If she heard about an amazing place that wasn’t on her route, she’d divert and go find it. This was her dream. He was just the idiot she’d left behind.

  The second postcard arrived like clockwork a week after the first. Sydney this time, a classic shot incorporating the Harbour Bridge and the Opera House. Ruby pressed another pin into the map. He told himself that soon he would stop thinking about Hannah. They’d had one date and shared a handful of kisses. It was stupid to be so hung up on someone and something that had never really happened.

  But it seemed he was destined to be stupid. He wanted her, and her being gone didn’t seem to make a damn bit of difference to that fact.

  THREE WEEKS AFTER her departure from Melbourne, Hannah stood on the beach in Townsville in Northern Queensland. A strong offshore breeze blew the hair off her face and pressed her clothes against her body. She squinted her eyes against the brightness of the rising sun and told herself how lucky she was to be here, seeing this, experiencing this moment.

  After a few minutes, she started back to the campground where she’d pitched her tent last night. It was going to be another stinker of a day, with the mercury predicted to hit forty degrees. The beach would soon be filled with tourists and locals keen to claim their patch of sand. If she wanted to, she could put on her swimsuit and take a towel and a book down to the water to join them. There was no work to get to, no one else’s needs or desires to consider. She could laze the day away and work on her already impressive tan.

  The problem was, she didn’t want to. She’d woken this morning with Joe’s face in her mind and her hands clenching the fabric of her sleeping bag. This was supposed to be her dream, but every day she’d had to remind herself how lucky she was, how beautiful the landscape was and how much she’d looked forward to finally seeing all the places she’d circled on the map over the years.

  Her heart wasn’t in it. That was the truth of the matter. Her dream had changed.

  The realization had sat like a lead weight in the pit of her belly for the past few days. Her heart—her stupid, inconvenient, badly house-trained heart—was back in Melbourne, fixated on a tall, dark-haired man with sad eyes and the most incredible smile in the world.

  Every postcard she’d sent to Ruby had taken her hours to compose. She’d told Ruby about her adventures and the people she’d met. She’d made jokes at her own expense and included tidbits of history and local lore. And all the while, the only thing she wanted to write was: Does he miss me? Does he think about me? Does he feel the same way I do?

  She had no idea when she’d become so involved, so enmeshed with Joe Lawson. Somewhere between him chewing her out for working on her noisy bike at night and the moment she’d turned the corner and left him standing in the street with his children on either side of him. It was crazy. They’d had one date, shared one meal. She didn’t know half the things she used to think were important to know about someone. His birthday, whether his childhood had been happy, what political party he voted for. And yet she knew how to make him laugh. She knew he felt deeply and loved with everything he had to give. She knew he was a great dad, even though he suffered doubts over some of his decisions. She knew he was honest, even if the truth was sometimes hard to hear. She knew that he was as scared to love again and trust another person as she was, even if he was motivated by very different reasons. And she knew that when she’d ridden away from him and Ruby and Ben she’d made what was possibly the biggest mistake of her life.

  She stared at her meager campsite—the tent, her bedroll, her rucksack of clothing. She turned and squinted toward the rising sun. She thought about the years she’d planned this adventure. Then she knelt and began to pull the tent pegs from the ground. Within twenty minutes she had the tent packed away. Half an hour later her worldly goods were once again strapped to the back of her motorcycle. She didn’t look back as she rode out of Townsville.

  CHAPTER TEN

  JOE WOKE EARLY. HE rubbed his tired eyes and stared at the ceiling. So much for the blissful escape of sleep. Hannah came to him every night, and every night he wrestled with his subconscious for control of his dreams. If he could make his dream go the way he wanted it to, if he could just hold her and say the things he wanted to say…But he never seemed to find the words to stop Hannah from walking away.

  He had half a dozen sleeping tablets left from the time after Beth died.
If he’d wanted to, he could have taken one and slept the night through, deep and dreamless. That was the worst part of the whole mess, because, as tired and irritated and frustrated as he felt dreaming of chasing Hannah and never catching her every night, he’d choose the dreams over nothing any day. He knew it made him a tragic, laughable figure of the highest order, but there it was. If he couldn’t have the real Hannah, he’d settle for a dream of her, even if it was driving him slowly crazy.

  You pathetic bastard.

  He glanced at the alarm clock. Just after 6:00 a.m. Great. The kids had stayed at his mother’s last night since it was a Friday and he’d had to work late due to staffing problems at the pub. He’d arranged to pick them up at midday, which left him with a whole six hours to fill.

  There was laundry to do—there was always laundry—and a host of other domestic chores. Maybe if he really threw himself into the housework he’d stop his mind from running in a continuous loop, thinking about Hannah then reminding himself how pointless it was.

  He rolled out of bed and reached for his jeans. He smoothed a hand over his hair as he walked up the hallway to the kitchen. Pizza boxes were stacked beside the counter, even though he’d asked Ben to put them out at least twice during the week. He flicked the kettle on and picked the boxes up, making a mental note to have a word with Ben about doing his chores.

  Barefoot and bare chested, he made his way to the carport where the recycle bin lived, then walked to collect the newspaper from the mailbox. He was scanning the front page when he heard the low rumble of a motorbike engine in the distance. His head came up and his muscles tensed.

  Which was stupid, because there was no way it was Hannah.

  The engine noise grew louder as he started toward the house. He glanced over his shoulder, his pace slowing. Sure enough, a motorbike turned into the street.

  His hand tightened around the newspaper. He stopped in his tracks and turned and stared as the bike slowed and then stopped in front of his house.

  It was her. It had to be.

  He barely stopped himself from breaking into a run as he made his way down the driveway, dropping the newspaper on the concrete behind him. Hannah slid off her helmet, shaking out her hair. He stopped in front of the bike.

  “You’re back,” he said, then gave himself a mental kick. Talk about stating the obvious.

  “Yeah.”

  She dismounted and placed her helmet on the seat. He couldn’t take his eyes from the long line of her jeans-clad legs. She was so bloody sexy. How had he ever kept his hands off her?

  Belatedly it occurred to him that something pretty serious must have happened to bring her home so early.

  “Is everything all right?” he asked. “Is Robyn okay?”

  “She’s fine. I came back because I forgot something.”

  There was a look in her eyes….

  “What did you forget?”

  She held his gaze and stepped closer, so close the front of her leather jacket brushed his bare chest.

  “This,” she said. “I forgot to do this.”

  She reached up and curled a hand around the back of his neck and pressed a kiss to his lips. Her body leaned into his, the leather of her jacket supple and warm against his skin. For a moment he was passive, blown away by her return, by the fact that she was kissing him, that this was real. Three weeks of dreams. Three weeks of calling himself an idiot for letting her go without even trying to get her to stay…

  Hunger and lust and relief rose inside him in equal measure. He wrapped his arms around her, sliding his palms across her back, hauling her close. Her mouth opened under his.

  She tasted of sunlight and ocean breezes. She tasted like salvation, a new beginning. Hope.

  He slid his hands into her hair, grabbing handfuls of it as he angled her head to deepen their kiss. She spread her palms flat against his back and pressed her length against him. She felt so good. So warm and alive.

  After long, breathless moments they broke apart to stare at each other.

  “Come inside?” he asked.

  She flicked a glance toward his house. He knew what she was thinking, what she was worried about.

  “The kids are with Mom.”

  She huffed out a sigh of relief. “Thank God, because I don’t think I can wait a minute longer.”

  He laughed, loving the boldness of her. When had Hannah ever given him less than the truth? “Come on.” He slid his hand down her arm to weave his fingers with hers.

  He started toward the house, towing her after him. His mind sprinted ahead to the bedroom, imagining peeling her out of her clothes, seeing her for the first time, exploring her soft curves. His body swelled, growing even harder. He quickened his pace, almost dragging her over the threshold.

  “Where’s the fire?” She laughed.

  “I’ll show you in about ten seconds.”

  Then they were in his bedroom and she was standing in front of him, a smile on her face.

  “If you had any idea how many times I’ve imagined being here like this with you…” she said

  He reached for the tab on her jacket zipper.

  “In my fantasies, you’re always wearing a lot less,” he said.

  Her smile turned into an outright grin as he tugged her zipper down and pushed her jacket open and down her arms. Underneath she was wearing a tight-fitting black tank top. He stared at her breasts for a moment, simply appreciating the sweet perfection of her.

  “You’re good for my ego,” she said.

  “Baby, I haven’t even started.”

  She laughed and reached for the hem of her top, pulling it over her head in one smooth move. Her eyes locked with his, she reached behind her back for her bra clasp.

  “Next time, we’ll go slow. But I’ve been thinking about you, about this, for too long to wait,” she said.

  He didn’t respond because he couldn’t. Her breasts were bare and all rational thought fled his mind. He ached to taste her, to shape her with his hands. Instead, he reached for the stud on his jeans. The soft denim gave easily and within seconds he was pushing his jeans down his legs, his erection springing free.

  “Oh, man,” she said, her gaze on his groin. Her movements became frenzied as she tugged at her belt and shoved her own jeans down her legs. She kicked her shoes off and at last they came together, skin to skin, mouth to mouth.

  “So good,” she murmured against his lips.

  “Tell me about it.”

  He slid his hands onto her backside and snugged her hips against his, his erection pressed against her belly. She made an approving noise and circled her hips. He ducked his head and kissed the smooth valley between her breasts, scattering kisses across the curves until he found a nipple and pulled it into his mouth. She shivered, then her hand slid between their bodies and down his belly until she was curling her hand around him.

  He lost track of time for a while. The world became only her and him and soon they were on the bed, touching one another, exploring, encouraging, discovering.

  “Joe,” she whispered after a while, her body trembling in his arms. “Please.”

  He was only too happy to oblige. He took a moment to protect them both, then he slid inside her. She made a small, satisfied noise in the back of her throat. He clenched his hands into the sheets on either side of her body. For seconds neither of them moved, both of them marking the moment. Then he shifted his hips and she moved with him and soon they found their rhythm.

  Her hair was spread across the pillow, her eyes dreamy and unfocused. He kissed her, riding high inside her, feeling how much pleasure she took from his body. She started to pant, her hands clutching at his back and his butt, one leg wrapping around his waist as she urged him on.

  Pleasure rushed through him and he tried to hold off, but it had been so long and he’d been dreaming of this for weeks. He pulled back, wanting to ensure her pleasure, determined to make it last. She shook her head against the pillow, her hands on his hips urging him to move harder, fas
ter, deeper. He felt her quiver around him. Her head dropped back, then her body arched as she found her release. His breath rushed out as he pressed his face into the soft skin of her neck. He shuddered as his own climax hit him, one hand gripping her hip, the other lifting her so he could bury himself deep inside her.

  He dropped his head onto the pillow beside her for a few beats afterward, his breath coming fast, a bead of sweat trickling down his spine. Hannah smoothed a hand around his shoulder to the nape of his neck, her fingers kneading the muscles there. He felt her belly muscles tense as she lifted her head to press a kiss to his shoulder. He closed his eyes, swamped by a swell of emotion. It had been a long time since he’d held anyone or been held.

  “I missed you,” he said.

  “I could tell.”

  He lifted his head so he could see her face. She was smiling, but her eyes were serious. He curved a hand around her cheek and caressed the soft skin of her temple with his thumb.

  Thank God she came back.

  She lifted a hand and traced his lips with a finger.

  “You have the best smile. When I first saw it my knees literally went weak.”

  “When I first saw you, I thought you were a man,” he said.

  She gasped and punched him on the shoulder. He laughed and caught her hand.

  “Let me finish. I thought you were a man for about half a second. Then you stood and turned around and I realized I’d made a huge mistake and I couldn’t get out of there fast enough, because I was afraid you’d bust me staring at your breasts like a randy schoolboy.”

  “No one would ever mistake you for a schoolboy. Believe me.”

  He kissed her, and things soon became heated all over again. Afterward, she fell asleep in his arms, her head a welcome weight on his shoulder. He must have drifted off as well because he woke to a gentle nudge in the ribs, finally opening his eyes when Hannah bit his shoulder gently.

  “Wake up, sleepyhead,” she said. “What time did you say you had to pick Ben and Ruby up?”