She wore a pair of long black slacks and a gray T-shirt. Gone were the fluffy dog slippers, the shiny nail varnish, the glittery bow in her hair, and the brightly-colored makeup. Her feet were bare, her hands free of rings, and there was no sign of the hundreds of bracelets that usually jangled and clanged on her arms. She’d pulled her hair off her face in a simple knot at the nape of her neck—the first time he’d ever seen it like that, without strands carefully tonged into curls and sprayed in place. Even when they’d all gone camping when they were younger, she’d always brought half her bedroom with her, and hated being seen with bed hair and no makeup.
But now her face was clean and pale, and even her lips were free of gloss. She looked younger in one way, and yet somehow older too. It sent a shiver right through him, although he couldn’t have explained why.
He moved toward her, and she caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye, lifted her head, and looked around. He stopped, standing hopefully like an idiot with the flowers in his hand, and waited for her reaction, for her eyebrows to lift, her lips to curve, her eyes to light in the way they always did whenever she saw him.
But her eyes didn’t light, and her lips didn’t curve. Instead, she looked at him, at the flowers. Then she turned her gaze to the garden and rested her head back on the wall.
Chapter Thirty-One
Maisey closed her eyes. She desperately wanted to descend into the oblivion of sleep, but although she’d dozed during the night, each time she’d jerked awake, heart pounding and head spinning, flooded anew with the memories of both Joss and Kole’s words.
At one point she’d gotten up, fed up with tossing and turning, but to her surprise, she’d only just gone into the kitchen when Tasha appeared in her pajamas. Tash had steered her to the chair and proceeded to make a cup of hot chocolate for her, heating the milk in the microwave and stirring in the chocolate powder, then adding a dash of brandy.
Maisey had taken the drink gratefully and sipped it, not really hungry or thirsty, but knowing Tasha wanted to do something for her. She knew her best friend was worried about her. Tasha had tried to get her to talk during the evening, but Maisey had said she was tired and retreated to her room. A couple of hours later, Tasha had stuck her head in the door to check on her, only to stare in shock at Maisey’s room. Three black rubbish bags had stood filled with a good portion of the contents of her wardrobe, half of her jewelry box, practically all of her hair accessories, and most of her makeup.
“What are you doing?” Tasha had asked, aghast.
“Getting rid of what I don’t need,” Maisey had stated flatly.
Tasha had opened one of the bags and lifted out Maisey’s favorite silver scarf, a purple mini skirt, and two snaplock bags full of glittery eyeshadows and outlandish dangly earrings.
“Maisey, these are you favorite things,” Tasha had said softly.
“I don’t want them.” Maisey’s voice had been barely audible.
Tasha had frowned then and stood with her hands on hips. “For God’s sake, don’t let those two idiots tell you how to live your life. These things are what make you you.”
Maisey had thrown a bag of sparkly bracelets across the room. “I don’t want to be me. I don’t even know if this is me. I didn’t want to grow up because it didn’t seem fair when Harry can’t.” She’d stopped and bitten her lip before she continued. “But he’s gone, Tasha. He’s not coming back. I’m beginning to forget him. I can’t remember what he looks like.” She’d started to cry. “I’m getting older, and I can’t stay young forever, no matter how hard I try.”
Tasha had taken her in her arms and held her as she sobbed, until eventually the tears had ceased to flow, and she’d insisted she was fine alone. But she’d refused to let Tasha hang her clothes back up. And when Tasha had left and closed the door behind her, she’d lain awake for the rest of the night, staring into the darkness.
Now, she gave a silent sigh as Joss put the roses on the table and took the seat beside her. “Go away,” she said.
“Maisey…”
“I don’t have the energy to argue with you.”
“I don’t want to argue. That’s the last thing I want to do.”
She didn’t reply, just closed her eyes again. The black dog prowled around her. She didn’t want to hear Joss’s awkward apology, to go over it all again. From experience, she knew the best way to cope with it was to be alone. “Please,” she said. “Just go.”
“I’m not going, Maisey.” He spoke firmly. “We need to talk.”
She finally opened her eyes and rolled her head on the wall to look at him. He looked gorgeous; he’d gotten caught in the rain, and his dark hair flopped over his forehead, shining damply. He wore a smart dark gray suit with a white shirt and a pink tie, and his bright blue eyes were intense. They reminded her of the moment he’d taken her on the floor, the moment she’d felt so possessed, so wanted. At that moment, she’d fantasized she was the best he’d ever had too.
What an idiot she’d been.
“I don’t want to talk,” she said. Unbidden, her ears filled with tears, and she bit her lip.
But Joss didn’t look away. Instead, he said, “Just listen then.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I know you probably don’t want to hear it, but I want to say the words anyway. I’m sorry. I’ve acted appallingly, and I need to apologize to you for that.”
Maisey had thought she was drained of all emotion, but to her surprise, anger flared inside her at his words. “Why do you think I want to hear you say you acted appallingly? How is saying it was all a mistake supposed to make me feel better?”
“No,” he said, eyes widening in alarm. “I’m referring to what I said to you last night. I knew we were supposed to be having a fling. You’d made it quite clear there were no strings, and I couldn’t work out why that made me angry and frustrated. Kole confused matters more by playing on my guilt. I appear to have a lot of that at the moment.” His lips twisted.
But now Maisey was thoroughly confused. She had the beginnings of a migraine, and she was so tired she was almost seeing double. “What…why…” She shook her head. “What are you talking about? You told me you didn’t want a relationship. I made it quite clear that was fine by me.” Even though I realized how stupid I’d been to think I could sleep with you and remain unaffected. “So why are you angry with me?” A tear spilled over her lashes, and she dashed it away angrily, not wanting him to think her weak.
But he didn’t look angry or frustrated, or anything in fact except concerned, a gentle smile softening his frown. He reached up a hand to cup her cheek, and God help her but she didn’t have the strength to pull away. “Maisey…” he said softly, his blue eyes smiling into hers. “I’m trying to say I’m in love with you.”
His words sank into her brain slowly. She blinked rapidly, too fuzzy to make sense of the words. “What?”
He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. “I love you. It’s obvious to me now. I think I’ve loved you for a long time, but I didn’t let myself acknowledge it. I tried to do the Right Thing—I told myself you were Kole’s sister, you were too young for me, and I had no right to think of you in that way. I told myself we would never be an item, and I would never be able to make a life with you. It’s why I went away, why I tried to make it work with Ana. But it was never going to work, because you’re the only woman I’ve ever really loved.”
Maisey’s bottom lip trembled. “Don’t…I can’t bear it.”
But he turned her hand over and kissed her palm. “When you suggested we have sex at the party, I couldn’t pass up the chance. I told myself it would be fine. It would be a way to get you out of my system, so I could finally move on with my life. But it didn’t work. It only made me want you more.”
Tears ran down her face. “Joss…”
“I love you just the way you are, Maisey. I don’t want you to change. You’re like a ray of sunlight in my life, and I like the way you make me feel. It’s too early to make pr
omises, I know that, and I’m also aware I’ve hurt your feelings. You have every right to tell me to fuck off and die. But I hope you don’t. We’ve kind of done things topsy turvy, going to bed before we dated, and I want to start again. I want to take you out to dinner, to the cinema—I want to treat you right.”
She took a sharp, shaky breath. “What about Kole?”
“Frankly, I don’t care what he thinks. He’s worried I’m going to break your heart, and that’s not going to happen. But just so you know, he’s okay with it.”
“You’ve spoken to him?” she asked in surprise.
Joss’s lips curved. “Tasha gave him a piece of her mind, and it changed how he thought about the matter.”
Maisey gave a little laugh at that and rubbed her nose. “I can imagine.”
“She’s very worried about you,” Joss said, frowning again. “And so am I.”
“I’m okay.” Maisey looked at where her hand rested in Joss’s. “It was a slap in the face, what you and Kole said. But in a way it was a wake-up call too.”
She fell silent for a moment, trying to put her thoughts in order. Joss stroked her hand, waiting until she was ready.
“I realized how much of an effect Harry’s death had on the way I lived my life,” she said eventually. “Losing him was bound to affect us all. Skye took it worst, I think—it definitely changed her, made her much more withdrawn, and I don’t know she’ll ever get over it. Kole hasn’t spoken about it much, but I know he feels guilty he’s alive and Harry’s not. He tries to cover it by acting as if he doesn’t care about anything, but he does.
“And I…” She watched Joss kiss her fingers again. “I decided every day mattered. I wanted to enjoy every minute of my life, to throw myself into being alive. I filled my life with bright things that reminded me of being young and happy when he was still with us. I wanted to keep that feeling of being childlike and carefree, like preserving myself in amber. But of course time doesn’t stop. The hands on the clock still turn, and suddenly I’m twenty-four, and he’s been dead five years, and it’s time for me to grow up.”
“I don’t want you to change,” Joss said huskily. “That wasn’t what I meant.”
“I know. This isn’t about you, or Kole, or even about Harry. It’s about me. I’ve been frustrated because everyone treats me like a kid, but they’re going to if I act like one. I started the shop because I thought it would be fun, and I didn’t really care if we went under, but I’ve realized I’m really good at it, and I want to make it work. I want it to be successful, and I want to be respected by the local community. I want to be a businesswoman, not a girl playing at it the way I did with my toy chocolate set when I was six.”
“You had a toy chocolate set?” He grinned.
“It had plastic trays to pour melted chocolate into, and it had a little shop and…” She waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter. I’m trying to say I want to change.”
He took the hand she’d waved and pulled it toward him, lifted her out of the chair and into his arms. “It’s your life,” he said gently, “and entirely up to you what you do with it. The thing is—I love you, not your clothes, not what you put in your hair. I just want you to be happy, Maisey. I’ve missed you at home, in my bed. I don’t want to rush things, and I want you to be sure. But I need you.”
He lifted her chin and scanned her face. His lips curved, and then he lowered them and kissed her.
Maisey closed her eyes as his lips moved across hers, and she gave herself up to the kiss. He started gentle, small butterfly kisses across her mouth, up her cheeks, across her eyelids and then back to her lips. And when she didn’t protest and didn’t pull away, he brushed her bottom lip with his tongue. She opened them and kissed him properly, and he gave a deep sigh, wrapping his arms around her and enveloping her in an embrace so tight she thought he might have cracked a rib.
When he eventually let her go, she could only stare up at him, breathing heavily. Joss Heaven loved her. He wanted to be with her. She couldn’t believe it.
He raised an eyebrow and tipped his head. “I’m waiting.”
She blinked. “For what?”
“You haven’t told me you love me yet.”
“Oh.” She slid a hand into his hair. “I do love you. With all my heart. I think I always have.”
And she let him kiss her again, as the rain pattered slowly on the leaves of the fern, and the rabbits bounced on the lawn under the jacaranda tree.
A Sneak Peek at A Rare Treat (#3)
As he walked along the waterfront toward Treats to Tempt You, the aromas of chocolate and coffee wafted around Stuart like a lover’s arms, sensual and decadent, pulling him closer. He hesitated outside, trying to resist the temptation, and hunched his shoulders against the brisk winter wind. He hadn’t meant to come this way—he was drinking far too much coffee lately, and it wasn’t helping his insomnia. He’d already eaten lunch and didn’t fancy a snack, and he wasn’t a huge fan of chocolate anyway.
But it had been a difficult day full of ghosts and sadness, and when the tall, slender form of Elle Baker appeared at the window to collect some cups, Stuart’s self-control waivered.
He pushed open the door, and the bell jangled. On her way back to the counter, Elle looked over her shoulder, saw who’d come through, and promptly walked into the table in front of her.
“Shit.” Overbalancing, she caught the tray just in time to stop the cups sliding off and onto the floor.
Biting back a laugh, he hurried over to her and cupped her elbow to steady her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Thanks. Cool. All good.” She held the tray with one hand and used the other to brush back a strand of her long blonde hair that had escaped her braid. Her dark green eyes rose to meet his, and a flush spread across both of her cheeks. “I’m so clumsy.”
“Not really—something distracted you, I think.” He smiled.
Her lips twisted, and she bumped the tray into him. “Don’t make me blush. Now what can I get you? A latte?”
“Please.”
She left his side, deposited the tray in the kitchen, and then walked around behind the counter to ring it up on the till. He retrieved his wallet from his back pocket and inserted his credit card into the holder.
“Are you coming tonight?” Elle handed over his receipt. Her nonchalant tone didn’t hide her hopefulness he’d be going to the cinema with their group of friends.
“Sorry, I can’t. I’m rehearsing.”
“Of course, I forgot.” Disappointment showed briefly on her face before she went over to the coffee machine and began to grind the beans. “How’s the play going?”
Stuart was a member of the town’s amateur dramatic group. He’d joined after his wife had died. His job as an English teacher kept him occupied during the day, but the house was too quiet in the evening. Left alone with his thoughts, his mood turned dark, and a desire to escape the subdued house forced him out of his solitude.
His friends wanted him to go out with them more, but in their social circle he felt out of place, even though some of them were still single. But the theatre group provided the perfect distraction, and he’d thrown himself into it with a measure of enthusiasm he’d afforded to little else recently. Until now, he’d taken secondary roles, but with the recent departure of one of the main male leads, the rest of the group had talked Stuart into playing the role of Benedick in Much Ado About Nothing. He’d accepted reluctantly, but had to admit to thoroughly enjoying himself as the weeks went by.
“I can’t wait until it opens.” The espresso made, Elle turned to steaming the milk. “We’ll all be buying tickets.”
“That’s great.”
His lack of enthusiasm must have filtered through, because her eyebrows rose. “You don’t want everyone to go?”
“Not really.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m grateful everyone wants to support me, but…” He shrugged.
She sent him an amused glance. “You’d rather not have to pe
rform on the big night?”
“Sort of.”
It wasn’t quite the truth. He had no fear of acting in front of an audience. His problem was more to do with the person he became while playing a part. In real life, he remained locked behind the quiet, reserved façade he’d cultivated over years of caring for Ria and learning to put her needs first. But for the brief time he was on stage, he could pretend he was someone else. His fellow actors didn’t know him well, and weren’t aware how different he was when immersed in a role. He adored acting, and loved to fantasize he was another person, with none of the day-to-day worries and concerns that plagued him in normal life. But his friends knew the real him, and the thought of them seeing him perform made him uneasy, because they’d know the act he presented on stage was a sham.
But there were four weeks left until the play opened in August, so no point in worrying about it now.
Elle held back the foam with a spoon and poured the heated milk into the takeaway cup on top of the espresso, then spooned some of the foam on the top before carefully fixing the lid. He’d not known her long, only since she’d moved to Mangonui to run Treats to Tempt You with her sister, Caitlin, and their two friends. Tasha and Maisey he’d known since his teens, and he was very fond of all of the girls.
Maybe more fond of Elle than the others. Not that he would have admitted it to anyone, least of all Elle. But to himself, he could acknowledge a special fondness for her silky blonde hair, her bright and chirpy personality, her slim and yet shapely figure. She was fun and fearless, filled with an energy that shone from her like the rays of a lighthouse.
How odd it must be, to date a girl like that, so full of life. Stuart had difficulty imagining it. Elle was twenty-seven, and from the bawdy comments she sometimes exchanged with the guys, it was clear she’d had a few partners and knew her way around the bedroom. She’d be sexually adventurous, he decided, open and eager, willing to experiment. For a brief moment, he imagined being with a girl like that, coming home to her every night, sharing her bed. His body responded, filled with an all too recognizable longing.
Treat her Right: A New Zealand Sexy Beach Romance (Treats to Tempt You Book 2) Page 21