Christmas Down Under: Six Sexy New Zealand & Australian Christmas Romances

by Rosalind James

  “Phew. That blew up fast,” she laughed as she hung her rain jacket on the hook, toed off her shoes and pulled off her soaked socks. “Hang on a second. I’ll get Finn for you.”

  Before she had a chance to go looking for him, Finn came out of the kitchen, still munching a slice of toast and taking a final mouthful of tea. “Morning. You’re early.”

  “Didn’t want to be late,” Ben answered with a cheeky grin, “and have you going crook at me.”

  “Too right. And Jenna, you should’ve driven the kids.” Finn frowned at her.

  “No worries. They didn’t get wet. The rain started on my way back.”

  “That’s what I meant,” he said. “You should’ve driven them.”

  “I didn’t melt. Just a bit bedraggled, that’s all.” She took the empty mug from him. “Have a good day. Nice to meet you, Ben.” She gave him a smile and headed for the kitchen. No point in changing out of her running capris. She’d towel them off as best she could, then clean the kitchen and start the washing before she went on her real run. It was likely to rain on her again anyway.

  * * *

  “Right. Let’s go, then. Thanks for the lift.” Finn finished tying his shoes and picked up his duffel from its spot beside the door.

  “That’s the nanny, eh,” Ben said bemusedly as they headed down the steps. “Bloody hell, she’s fit. You should’ve warned me. I’d’ve combed my hair. Good thing you aren’t married, though. The missus would never go for that.”

  Finn stared balefully at him through the rain, but didn’t comment until they were in the car.

  “Jenna’s a professional,” he said at last. “She’s a trained teacher. Bloody good cook, too. I’m lucky to have her.”

  * * *

  “Mind if I come in for a minute?” Ben asked when they approached the house again that afternoon. “Haven’t seen your kids for a while. I could say hello.”

  “My kids. Right. Didn’t know you were so fond of them.” But Finn led Ben up the steps to the front door again.

  The house was quiet as Finn dumped his duffel by the door. “Jenna!” he called, then shrugged. “Maybe she’s out getting the kids now. Come on into the kitchen, have a cuppa.”

  They walked into the warm room and saw Jenna, her back to them, hips swinging back and forth, body bopping to an invisible beat while she worked at the kitchen bench. Finn stepped up behind her and tapped her gently on the shoulder. She whirled in alarm, an icing-covered spatula still in her hand, and the implement landed squarely on his warmup jacket, leaving a messy smear of white.

  She pulled the headphones from her ears, laughing in dismay. “Oh, no! What a mess. That’s what you get for sneaking up on me, though.”

  She reached for her hip and turned off her iPod. “Hi, Ben. You guys caught me dancing. How embarrassing. Here, Finn, let me clean you up.” She wet a paper towel at the sink and moved close to wipe the white icing off his chest, then stopped abruptly, flushing, and handed him the towel. “Maybe you’d better do it. Or, better yet, throw it in the basket, and I’ll wash it. Because that’s going to leave a mark.”

  “No worries,” Finn told her with a smile, giving a cursory wipe to the spot and tossing the towel in the bin. “Nice show you put on for us there. What’re you making?”

  “Carrot cake. Would you guys like some?”

  Finn raised an eyebrow at Ben. “I would,” the younger man agreed. “Please.”

  “Couple cups of tea, too, then. This cake requires that.” Jenna pushed the button on the electric jug and got out three mugs, putting a teabag into each and pouring in the water that had boiled within seconds.

  “Where’re the kids?” Finn asked.

  “Sophie has soccer, and Harry has kapa haka. New Wednesday schedule, remember? I’m leaving to get them in about twenty minutes. How was training?”

  “Gym day, mostly,” Finn told her. “As it was so wet. Did a bit of work outdoors as well, though. It’s good to practice in the wet sometimes. We play in it often enough.”

  “That must have been unpleasant.” She cut two generous slices of cake and put them on plates, adding a fork to each. “Milk and sugar, Ben?”

  “Both, please,” he said. She added them to his mug, poured a splash of milk into Finn’s tea, and handed them their tea and cake, fixed her own mug, and sat down with them at the big table.

  “This is yum,” Ben told her after his first bite of cake. “What’s in the icing?”

  “Fresh ginger,” she said. “That’s the secret. What did you guys work on today?”

  She listened, drank her tea as Finn and Ben began to fill her in.

  “Ben was having trouble with his boots,” Finn told her with a smile. “Least that’s what he told us. He came a real greaser, fell bang on his face during a running drill. While the newsies were out there, too, doing a piece about our being the form team. Cameras and all.”

  “Oh, no,” Jenna commiserated in laughing sympathy. “Poor you. I’m sure they won’t show that, though. You must have got good and muddy, Ben.”

  “And I don’t have anyone to do my washing,” he sighed piteously. “Have to go home and put it in the machine myself. Nobody to fix my tea, either. My work day’s just beginning.”

  “Rough,” she agreed, a smile quirking the corner of her mouth. “You may have to get a takeaway. The horror. And you may want to work on your story as well. I know the team takes care of your kit for you, remember? But speaking of work, I need to go get the kids.”

  “I’ll walk you, or drive you if you’d rather.” Ben bounded up and went with her to the entryway. “That’s why I came in, to say hi to the kids. Didn’t know I’d be getting cake too. That was choice. Thanks.”

  * * *

  “So you’re a nanny, eh,” he said to her as they crossed the main road on their way to the primary school.

  She nodded. “Just for now. I’m a teacher, normally.”

  “Yeh, Finn said. And a cook, obviously. Is it hard work?”

  She laughed. “No. Finn isn’t a very exacting employer.”

  “He gives you days off, then?”

  She looked at him in surprise. “Of course he does. Once the game’s over, and he’s back from wherever.”

  “So your days off are the same as ours, more or less,” he said. “Sunday, I reckon.”

  “Unless you’re in South Africa or Perth, slow getting back.”

  “Maybe you’d like to have dinner with me this Sunday, then,” he suggested. “Have somebody else do the cooking.”

  She thought about offering an excuse, decided to keep it simple. “Sorry, but I can’t.”

  “Monday?” he persisted.

  “Sorry.” She smiled up at him apologetically. “I’m not available. For dating, I mean.”

  She saw with relief that Harry and Sophie were waiting outside the school gates. Harry ran to her with his usual enthusiastic hug, Sophie following behind.

  “You guys know Ben, right?” Jenna asked them. “He’s keeping me company today.”

  Sophie looked at him suspiciously. “Why?”

  “Sophie!” Jenna exclaimed, shocked. “That isn’t very nice.”

  “He’s the backup No. 8,” Sophie explained. “He’s trying to get Daddy’s job. You shouldn’t be nice to him.”

  “Oi,” Ben said plaintively. “I just do what I’m told. I have to earn a crust somehow. Have a heart, Sophie. After I gave your dad a lift today, and all.”

  “Apologize, Sophie,” Jenna said sternly. “Ben hasn’t done anything wrong, and that wasn’t at all polite.”

  “Sorry,” Sophie muttered.

  “Did practice go badly, or something else go wrong?” Jenna guessed. “You seem a bit out of sorts.”

  “I missed four goals, and didn’t make any at all,” Sophie told her glumly. “I was rubbish.”

  “Sometimes that happens,” Ben put in. “I fell on my face today, myself. Fell on my ar—my bum a few times too, in the rain.”

  “Really?” Sophie bri
ghtened.

  He nodded. “Looks like that starting job’s eluded me again.” He sighed theatrically. “Your dad’s just too good for me. Tell me more about what happened, though. You were a bit off pace, eh.”

  “Jenna,” Harry was tugging at her sleeve, impatient with the conversation as Sophie and Ben continued to chat during the walk back. “We learnt a new waiata today in kapa haka. E Te Iwi E. It’s one that men sing, did you know that?”

  “I know that one,” Jenna said with pleasure. “Will you sing it to me tonight?”

  “If I remember,” he said dubiously.

  “I think I do,” she said. “I can look up the lyrics. After dinner, we’ll have a bit of a practice, all right?”

  “I’ll be off, then,” Ben announced as they arrived back at the house. “See you, kids. And Jenna. Cheers for the cake. If you change your mind at all, Finn has my mobile number.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled at him apologetically. “But I don’t think so.”

  * * *

  “Jenna has a boyfriend, eh,” Ben asked Finn the following day on the way to the team’s Eden Park training facility.

  “Not that I know of,” Finn said in surprise. “Turned you down, did she? Is that what she said?”

  “Not exactly. Said she was ‘unavailable.’ Whatever that means. Pity. That cake was choice, and she isn’t bad herself. Some other reason, d’you reckon? Not a lesbian, is she? That’d be a bloody waste.”

  “None of your business. Or mine. But I doubt it. Maybe she just didn’t like you, did you think of that? Or could be she thought you were a cheeky kid, and she’s looking for a man.”

  “Like you?” Ben asked slyly.

  Finn looked across at him. “No. Watch what you’re saying.”

  “Come on. It hasn’t occurred to you? You can’t tell me that. Because I thought I saw something there, looking back.”

  “Did you pay any attention at all to that sexual harassment training at the start of the season?” Finn asked. “About unwelcome attention? There’s a reason you boys need to watch those vids.”

  “How d’you know it’d be unwelcome?” Ben argued.

  “I’m her employer,” Finn said irritably. “That’s the definition of unwelcome. Because she’s not in a position to say no, not while she’s working for me. Well, she is, of course,” he amended. “But she may not think so. It’s not a good position to put her into,” he finished in exasperation. “Bad idea.”

  “I can think of a few positions I’d like to put her into,” Ben said with a grin.

  “Shut up,” Finn said sharply.

  “What? Just a bit of fun.”

  “Not funny. You asked her, and she said no. Drop it.”

  Consolation Prize

  “Come on, Dad. Come on,” Sophie urged from her spot on the lounge floor, her little hands gripping the edges of the coffee table.

  Conditions in Canberra were dreadful, the winter wind and rain lashing not only the players, but also the spectators in the open stadium. Fans huddled miserably under raincoats and ponchos, but nobody in the capacity crowd of twenty-five thousand seemed to be interested in leaving with the score standing at 23-21 with only ten minutes to play in this semifinal match. Ominously, the Blues’ first-five had been forced out of the game fifteen minutes earlier with a knee injury, and his replacement had already missed a post-try conversion that would have tied the game.

  Even Harry was watching now. “If they don’t win, what happens?” he asked Sophie. “Do they still get to play next week?”

  “No,” Sophie said in exasperation, watching anxiously as the Brumbies mounted another attack on the Blues’ try line. “It’s the semifinal, Harry. The Brumbies would go to the final, not the Blues. Dad told you.”

  She exclaimed in relief as the Blues’ captain, Drew Callahan, stole the ball and the Auckland team took possession. Over and over, the Blues charged ahead, to be met every time by fierce resistance from the Brumbies’ forwards. One particularly ferocious collision, a commotion on the field, and the camera panned to a player in a blue jersey lying motionless on the turf.

  “Who is it?” Jenna asked, eyes straining to sort out the figures in the ruck. “Can you see, Sophie?” She looked down, realized Sophie was sitting rigid, hands over her mouth.

  “Hey, now.” Jenna dropped to the floor herself, put her arm around the little girl, saw the tears beginning. “Look,” she said as her eyes searched the screen. “It’s not your dad. See him, there?”

  “It’s the No. 11,” she added, just as the announcers told the viewing audience that the injured player was Kevin McNicholl, the right wing, and the trainer signaled for the gurney. The three of them watched as McNicholl was loaded onto the contraption and wheeled off to a round of applause from the spectators.

  “He’s moving,” Jenna told Sophie. “That’s good. Look at the replay. I’d say a concussion, wouldn’t you?” She saw that Sophie’s tears hadn’t abated, hugged her more tightly. “Come on, now. He’s going to be all right. And they’re starting to play again. You want to watch this, don’t you?”

  “I thought it was Dad,” Sophie said in a small voice, her eyes still streaming.

  “It wasn’t, though,” Jenna told her gently. “Look at your Dad. Look how hard he’s working. He’s fine.”

  “What if it is, though?” Sophie sobbed. “What if something really bad happens to Daddy?”

  “Well, something does happen, lots of times,” Jenna pointed out practically. “But he seems pretty tough to me. He’s been playing a lot of years, right? And he’s still out there, not missing many games at all, from what I’ve seen. He wouldn’t want you to be crying now. He’d want you to watch him, don’t you think?”

  Sophie nodded, her sobs turning to sniffs as the Blues continued to play with a replacement who had come off the bench for the missing No. 11. She groaned when the substitute first-five missed a penalty kick that would have won the game for the Blues in the final few minutes, and she and Harry both cried out in dismay when the final hooter sounded leaving the score unchanged, signaling an abrupt ending to the Blues’ season.

  Jenna felt dejected as well. In the short time she’d been watching, she had come to expect the Blues to win their games, and knowing that the team wouldn’t be going to the final caused her own heart to sink. Watching Finn as he congratulated the Brumbies players and put a consoling arm around the replacement first-five, she could see the disappointment and pain he couldn’t quite hide behind his stoical mask.

  “Well,” she said to a drooping Sophie and Harry, “they did their best. You know that. It’s too bad, but you know what your dad says. Losing’s part of the game too. You can tell that they hate it, but they couldn’t do any more than they did. They got unlucky with the injuries, didn’t they?”

  Sophie nodded, her face somber.

  Jenna gave her another hug. “Let’s get you into bed, both of you. Sophie, do you want to come to Harry’s room with me? It’s late, but I think we could use a chapter from Charlotte’s Web tonight, don’t you?”

  Harry bounced up, his mood, as always, shifting quickly. “What do you think will happen to Wilbur?” he asked. “Will they sell him?”

  “Once you go to the toilet and get in bed, we’ll find out, won’t we?” Jenna asked. “Come on, Sophie,” she urged. “You’ll feel better once you’ve washed your face. And tomorrow, we’ll go pick your dad up at the airport. You can tell him how much you love him. That’ll make him feel better too, don’t you think? Because I’ll bet he’s pretty sad himself, right now.”

  * * *

  “What’s this?” Finn asked gently the next day, dropping to a crouch to hug his children in the International Arrivals area of the Auckland airport. “Those tears aren’t for me, are they, Sophie Bee?”

  “I’m sorry, Daddy,” Sophie sobbed. “I’m so sorry you lost. I wanted you to win so much.”

  “Yeh. We wanted that too,” Finn told her. “But you know you can’t always win.”

  J
enna could see the evidence of the hard-fought match in the cuts and bruises on his face, the stiff way he and his teammates carried themselves. She thought she’d have been able to tell that they’d lost, even if she hadn’t known it already, just from their body language.

  “Were you very sad, Daddy?” Harry asked.

  “We were all very sad,” he admitted. “We’ll have to barrack for the Crusaders now, though, won’t we? We’ll watch together next Saturday night, eh. Send them our good thoughts.”

  “And you know what this means,” he added, hefting his duffel and taking a child’s hand in each of his to lead the way out to the carpark. “Means I get to start training with the All Blacks this week instead of next. Give me that much more time with the squad before we meet the Wallabies. I’ll get to see some of those Brumbies boys again. We’ll see how they do against the ABs.”

  “Yeh,” Sophie agreed, brightening a little now. “They’ll be sorry then, won’t they, Dad?”

  “Hope so,” he grinned at her.

  “How are the injured players doing?” Jenna asked him once they were back in the car again. Finn had raised no objection to her driving, seeming content to stretch out and relax in the passenger seat. “That concussion didn’t look good.”

  He grimaced. “Yeh, that was a fair knock. He was only out for a bit, but you hate to see that. They’ll keep a pretty close eye on him for the next couple weeks. May rest him for the first game or two with the ABs. Kevvie’s played some hard footy anyway, this season.”

  “Just like you,” Jenna pointed out. “At least it looks that way to me. Will they rest you?”

  “I hope not,” he said with alarm. “I’m in good nick. Least I will be by the time we start practicing again. Bit sore today.”

  “We’ll take care of you, Daddy,” Sophie promised. “Jenna made a chocolate cake for you for tonight.”

  “Lucky me,” he said seriously. “I’ll be looking forward to that.”

  “Not sure that’s much of a consolation prize,” Jenna told him with a smile. “But it was the only thing I could think of.”