His heart was beating so hard, he could swear he heard it in his ears. “Best moment?”
“Oh.” She sighed again. “I should say the Black Swan pas de deux. Odile. All that spectacle, all that heat. But how much more fulfilling, how much more moving to do the Odette pas de deux instead, and to do it the best you ever have? To be a swan, to curve around your Siegfried, to be carried above his head, your wings spread wide. To submit so completely to love, and to make the audience feel it? How much better is that?”
She spoke, and she danced the words with her arms and hands. Just as she had the other evening when she’d told him about Zavy with Rich, about her pain. But now, there was joy in those fluttering fingers, those supplicating palms.
He didn’t hear how she loved it. He saw it. He felt it.
He wanted to say, But you truly can’t go back? He thought he knew the answer. If you wanted something that badly, if you lived and breathed for it, and you gave it up? You did it because you had to. Ballet may have been her life. Zavy had been her heart.
They left the restaurant as quietly as they’d arrived, and when Chloe asked, “Would you want to walk back on the beach?” he said yes. Of course he did.
The night was cool, but the moon was nearly full, a bright, shining disk over the rippling black and silver of the sea. She held her black heels in one hand and walked beside him on the firm sand by the water’s edge to the tune of the gentle slap-slap-slap as the tiny waves reached the shore, the hiss of their retreat. And his head was full of the tang of ozone and the banked fire of the woman beside him.
All of that was why, when they were nearly home and she turned to him and said, “Thank you for this,” he took her in his arms and kissed her.
No hesitation in her now, and no reserve. Her arms were around his neck, her lips were parting, and she was kissing him exactly as sweetly. Exactly as urgently. She was Odette, and she was surrendering to it, succumbing, her back arching with desire. A white swan.
When his lips trailed across her cheek to her throat, he heard the gasp even over the surf. And when he lifted her by the waist, straight off her feet? She responded by wrapping a leg around his own waist, as supple as if she were made of something more than flesh and bone, giving him no choice but to slide a hand up her thigh and hold her there, where she was solid with muscle, but so soft, too.
The heat. The burn, and the power. His fingers touching the edge of what was surely a thong, and he got a rush that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Her lips under his, her tongue touching his, dancing, retreating. And his hand on her jaw, tipping her chin up, bringing her closer there, his other hand pulling her more tightly against him.
The kiss was out of control, because her other leg was coming up now, wrapping around him, and she was all the way off her feet. He was walking with her twined around him, and she was kissing him the same way he was kissing her. He needed to get her home, to lay her down, to pull her red dress straight over her head. To get her underneath him and touch her everywhere. Right now.
It was the dog that ruined it. A soaking-wet spaniel bounding toward them, jumping up onto Kevin’s leg.
It wasn’t that it deterred him, because it didn’t. No dog was going to throw him off. Not tonight. But after that, its owner came running up to haul it off by the collar.
“Oh,” the middle-aged woman said. “I’m so sorry. She’s a puppy, I’m afraid.” She was looking everywhere but at the two of them. “I’m sorry,” she said again.
Chloe was sliding down Kevin’s body, pulling her dress down, straightening her jacket, and it was left to Kevin to say, “No worries.” Even though the dog and its owner could fall straight through a crack in the earth as far as he was concerned.
Owner and dog moved off down the beach, and Chloe said after a moment, a husky catch in her voice, “Probably best.”
“No,” he said. “Definitely not. Absolutely not.”
“We can’t ... we’re on the beach.” A breath of a laugh. “I can’t believe I did that.”
“We are on the beach. And your bed’s five minutes away.”
“I ... what if Zavy wakes up? I never have. Had anybody at ... home, I mean. Especially tonight. Especially after yesterday.”
Bloody hell. He had to take a few breaths, and she said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ... it’s just that it’s been a long time, and you’re too ...” She laughed, a husky sound, and put a hand to her hair. “I don’t know what to say. How much is how strong you are, and how much is how sweet you are. It gets me in my heart, and it gets me ...”
She stopped, and he said, “Yeh. Because you get me in exactly the same way. For exactly the same reasons.”
“I ... do? I’m not good at relationships, though.”
“Maybe not,” he said. “But you’re good at me.”
On Monday morning, Chloe stepped into the metallic box of the lift in her parents’ building and pressed the button. As the doors were closing, though, she stepped out again.
Breathe, she told herself, wiping her hands on her track pants. You are an adult. You are your son’s mother. This is not a choice. She got back into the box, and this time, she let the doors close.
When her mother gave her the usual cuddle and kiss at the door and said, “Fixed something special for you today, darling,” she almost lost her courage again. Instead, she stayed where she was and said, “I have something to tell you first.”
“Well, I hope so,” Fiona said tartly. “As I’ve been waiting for two days to hear how things went with Richard. I called three times yesterday and left two voicemail messages. You must have known how concerned I’d be. It wasn’t very considerate, darling.”
The hot blood was rising, and Chloe was lifting onto her toes, coming down and curling her toes up, then doing it again. Her mother said, “Stop fidgeting and tell me.”
“I am not fidgeting. I’m moving. It helps. I’m trying to stay rational enough to tell you instead of walking out and not coming back. Me and Zavy.”
Her mother started to speak, but Chloe held up a hand. “Let me say this, please, Mum. How did it go? Not well. I can’t fathom why Rich wants to spend time with Zavy when he doesn’t seem to care about him, and I can’t see why you would think it was a good idea once you’d seen them together. But I’m not going to talk to you about that. You can think it’s a good idea until hell freezes over, but if you want me to leave Zavy with you again, you need to promise that you won’t do anything else like this. Ever.”
“If he doesn’t know how to take care of Zavy,” her mother said, “surely it’s better if he visits when the boy’s with us so I can show him. If you acted this angry with him, I’d be surprised if he listened to you.”
Chloe had to work on her breathing. “I agree,” she said at last, and her mother opened her mouth, but Chloe went on. “I thought about that, and I agree. As long as you or Dad are there, and as long as you agree to tell me—to ask me—every time, I have no problem with Rich seeing Zavy here with you.” Well, she had a problem—she had a problem with the whole thing—but she was going to accept her parents’ involvement as the lesser of two evils. She had no choice but to make the best of this. For Zavy.
Her mother expelled her breath and said, “Well, then, what are you going on about, darling?”
“That you didn’t tell me. You had no right to keep Rich’s visits from me. You had absolutely no right not to ask me whether I was OK with them.” She said the words, then felt a little faint. But at least she’d said them.
“Because I knew you’d be unreasonable about it, that you’re still locked in your own emotions about Rich, and you just agreed it was good for the boy to know his father.”
“No, I didn’t. I said something else. I said that if Rich was determined to do it, it’s better that he get some clue how. I’m telling you that I’m Zavy’s mother, and I decide that. Not you. Not Dad. I decide. You should have told me the first time Rich ... what? Called you? Suggested it?”
“If
you must know,” her mother said, “yes. He rang me and suggested it. Which is to his credit. And I thought about telling you. Of course I did. But you can see for yourself what the result of that would have been. Exactly what’s happening now. I was thinking of Zavy.”
Chloe felt as if she was walking against a gale, battling her way forward and getting nowhere. Her mother clothed the iron hand in a velvet glove, but make no mistake, it was iron. Chloe could be tough too, though. She needed to be tough, and she needed to do it right now. “Understand this, Mum,” she said. “If you make this kind of decision without checking with me again, it will make me decide that it’s not safe for you to have Zavy unsupervised. Ever. I mean that. Ever.”
Her mother drew herself up. “We take him,” she said stiffly, “partly to help you. You do realize that, don’t you?”
“Yes. I do realize it, and I appreciate it. He loves you, and he loves coming here. But I’ll have no choice but to bring him by only when I can be here as well if I don’t trust you. If you’re going to have him, I need your word that you’ll consult with me and accept my decisions.”
Her mother’s always-flawless makeup couldn’t disguise the spots of red that had appeared on her high cheekbones. “Storming in and issuing an ultimatum isn’t acceptable, Chloe. I’m your mother. I’m Xavier’s grandmother.”
“I know. That’s the only reason I’m still here.”
“This is silly. Come sit down and eat your breakfast. We’ll talk about it later.”
“No, Mum.” There was a lump in her stomach the size of a cricket ball. “I’m not sitting down. Not now. I’ll talk to you later.”
She turned to go, and her mother put a hand on her arm. “Chloe. This is mad. Be reasonable.”
“I’m sorry, Mum.” She opened the door and headed blindly toward the lift.
That had gone well.
She thought, during the day, about canceling dinner. What was she, a glutton for punishment, getting involved with the man who was throwing her and Zavy out of their home? Of course Kevin had the right. Of course it was his house. That didn’t mean she had to be thrilled about it, and it certainly didn’t mean that she should be wrapping herself around him on the beach, or spending at least ten minutes kissing him goodbye after Noelle had gone downstairs the night before. Especially considering that he’d had her shoved up against the door at the time, and his hand on her bare thigh as if all he wanted was to touch her and kiss her and give her pleasure. And all she’d wanted was for him to go on and do it. To show her everything his big body promised, and to show her hard.
She had said “goodnight,” in the end, but it had been the battle of her life to do it. And then there was that life. Once so clearly focused, so beautifully directed, it now seemed anything but. She seemed to be careening along, in fact, without direction or plan. It was the very last time when she should have been contemplating getting herself—not to mention Zavy—into any more emotional complications.
And all the same, after a long day of not hearing from her mum, at seven that night she took Zavy downstairs for dinner. Only because Kevin was leaving the next day for Sydney, and wouldn’t be back until Sunday.
“You’re meant to space it out a bit,” he’d said on the phone at noon, “or at least give the poor girl a rest from your constant company. Chalk it up to my mad travel schedule, and maybe just a bit to how wonderful you are to kiss.”
She could hear some definite background noise, and had asked, as the smile had grown, “Who’s hearing that, exactly?”
“Nobody. They’ve all turned away in disgust. Too cheesy, they’re saying.” And when she’d laughed, he’d added, “Nah. I found a quiet corner. Got to go, though, or there’ll be nothing left but crumbs. Eating with a rugby team is a bit like eating with five brothers and sisters. You’ve got to get in amongst it or you’ll miss out on all the best stuff. So ... tonight?”
“Yes,” she’d said helplessly. “Tonight.” How could she say no? She couldn’t.
Now, she and Zavy were at Kevin’s dining table once again, and the five of them were eating steak, which had been cooked enough to make sawing it a job. Kevin said, as he watched Chloe cut painstakingly tiny bites for Zavy, “Makes you consider the wisdom of those animals that prechew for their babies, eh.”
“Well, I’m sorry,” Holly said, firing up fast. “You said ‘steak.’ I did steak.”
“I didn’t say to cremate the poor beast,” Kevin said. “It’s already dead. I’ll give you a tip for next time. Eye fillet.”
“That’s the most expensive,” Holly said. “I was trying to save money. Excuse me for trying. Anyway, it’s all steak. If Noelle weren’t trying to slim down, I’d have just done burgers.”
“I’m paid a good wage,” Kevin said. “We don’t have to do burgers or this. Next time, eye fillet. I’m going to be stopped two meters from the try line,” he muttered. “Won’t have the strength to go on.”
Chloe had seen Noelle color at the mention of slimming, and Kevin was sounding decidedly grumpy himself. What was that all about? She said, keeping it light with an effort, “Fortunately, I’m just upstairs. If you girls want recipe suggestions, maybe to do some grocery shopping together—I’m happy to. I have to go anyway, after all.”
“Kevin needs too many kilojoules,” Noelle said to her plate. She was still flushed with embarrassment. “He can’t eat what would work for me.”
“Of course he can,” Chloe said “Like I told you, it’s about high-quality nutrition sources. If you’re careful, like me, you control your portions just that carefully. If you’re Kevin, you control your portions like your next meal is somewhere across the Sahara Desert. All you have to do is cook enough.”
“Oi,” he protested, then grinned. “Well, maybe.”
“And here you are,” she said, “inviting me to dinner, then being this narky? What’s that all about, then?”
He said, calmly enough, “Dunno. Maybe I’m frustrated. Could be I don’t want to fly out tomorrow. Could be I know that’s my job and there’s no choice, but reminding myself of that isn’t working as well as usual. It could be.”
Oh. She said, “Well, consider this. Zavy and I should be the narky ones, since I have now looked online at probably a hundred properties, looked personally at eight, applied for four, and not got one of them, and the sand in my hourglass is running out.”
“And I’m going to toss you into the snow?” he asked, storm clouds clearly visible again. “I said three months.”
“Connor’s not going to be happy about three months,” Holly said. “And Brenna’s really not going to be happy about three months. You know she’s got her finger hovering on the Send button, just waiting to give their landlord notice.”
Kevin glared at her. “Did I ask you?”
Whoa. Chloe said, “Kevin, stop. I’ve only been looking two weeks. I have another four to go. I’ll find something. I may have to look beyond the North Shore, that’s all.”
He said, “It’s not your job to make me feel better about this.”
She could swear that both his sisters drew in a breath at that, and she wouldn’t have called herself “cool,” either. She said, “Well, I give up, then. I had a hard day too, you know. If I wanted to fight, I could just have gone over to my mum’s and started up again. I am now going to talk to your sister instead of you.”
That had his sisters looking at each other, the tension between them forgotten for the moment. Chloe said, “So, Noelle, how have you been getting on with the practicing? Ready for class tomorrow?”
“I’ve been practicing, yeh,” Noelle said after a moment. “But if I could show you for a bit after dinner—just for a minute—it’d be good.”
“We can do that,” Chloe said.
“And if you can really suggest recipes and that,” the girl added, “that’d be awesome. Shopping as well.”
“I can.” Chloe took her thankfully-last bite of steak, chewed it into submission, and said, “I’m going to put Zavy to
bed. Come on up, Noelle. I’ve only got fifteen minutes tonight, but we can schedule another time for the recipes. And that’s a definite yes on the shopping.” It was her mum and dad’s weekend with Zavy coming up. She didn’t know if that would be happening, but if it wasn’t? She’d cope.
Earlier today, she’d felt as if she were being pulled along, out of control. Right this minute, she knew she wasn’t. She couldn’t control what Kevin did, what her mum did, or what Rich did. But she could draw the line.
When the knock came on her door two minutes after Noelle had left, she wasn’t exactly surprised.
“If I say I’m a boofhead,” Kevin said while he was still standing outside, “does it help?”
She eyed him a moment, then said, “Yes. It does. I’m relieved, maybe, to know you aren’t perfect after all. I was beginning to wonder. Come in and have a cup of tea.”
He sat on her couch with a sigh, and when she brought his mug over to him, said, “Before I start to explain how I’m not really such a bad fella and you should give me another chance, suppose you tell me about the apartment hunt, and about your mum. Or I’ll put it another way. Suppose I tell you again that my brother can bloody well wait. No luck at all?”
Just Say Yes (Escape to New Zealand Book 10) Page 13