He’d investigate trading in the BMW, too. Start setting himself up for the next phase—the baby phase. Anticipating, rather than simply waiting for, the next curveball life threw his way.
He was sweaty and hot by the time he entered the foyer of his apartment complex, but for the first time in what seemed like weeks he felt as though he had a bead on things.
A woman was collecting her mail from the boxes next to the elevator and she glanced over as he crossed the marble floor.
“Rhys. Hi,” Heather said, a friendly smile curving her mouth as she faced him. She wore a pair of slim-fit jeans with red boots and a snug red sweater.
He paused, using the back of his forearm to wipe the sweat from his brow. “Hey. How are you?”
“I’m good. Not quite as virtuous as you, since I haven’t been to the gym in weeks, but good. I tried that coffee place you recommended, by the way.” She kissed her fingers. “I owe you.”
“Glad you liked it.”
“I loved it. You saved my life. I’m a complete write-off until I’ve had my caffeine hit in the morning.”
“I know the feeling.” He glanced toward the elevator, keen to get out of his damp clothes.
“I won’t hold you up,” she said, gesturing for him to keep moving. “I just wanted to say thanks.”
Her smile was bright and uncomplicated. An image popped into his mind—Charlie standing beside his car, looking out to sea. Distant and unknowable and closed off.
He focused on Heather. Made himself really look at her. She was an undeniably attractive woman. Friendly. Intelligent. Not so long ago, he would have asked her out without hesitation.
So what’s making you hesitate now? And if the answer is Charlie, you need to get your head checked. Pronto.
The pushy bastard in his head was right.
He smiled at Heather. “You’re not holding me up. I almost forgot I promised to word you up on some of the local secrets, didn’t I?”
“I don’t think it was exactly a promise.”
“An offer, then. There’s a bar in the café strip closer to Kings Cross that does a mean mojito if you’d like to hook up some night this week…?”
She pulled a face. “I’m about to head off on a long haul. I won’t be back until late Friday.”
“What about on the weekend, then?”
She looked a little sheepish. “Saturday and Sunday nights are booked already.”
He smiled. Clearly, she was a woman in demand. “How about lunch on Saturday?”
“Saturday lunch I can do.”
“Phew.”
She laughed.
“Shall I swing by and pick you up?” he asked.
“Sure. You remember my apartment number?”
“It’s 4A, right?”
“That’s right.” She looked pleased that he’d remembered.
“I’ll see you on Saturday,” he said.
“You will.”
He stepped into the lift. The doors closed and he was confronted with his reflection in the polished steel. The smile faded from his lips as he leaned forward and punched the number for his floor.
He didn’t owe Charlie anything—so there was absolutely no reason for him to feel guilty about making a date with another woman.
No reason at all.
CHARLIE DROVE HOME on autopilot, her mind whirling as she tried to process what had happened.
She shouldn’t have said yes to lunch. She should have stuck to her guns and played it safe and kept Rhys at a distance.
We had sex because we’re really into each other… I knew exactly what I was doing and who I was with.
She shook her head, trying to shake Rhys’s words loose.
Until he’d spoken, she’d been sure she understood what had almost happened between them as they lay on the grass—it had been an emotional morning, the sun had been shining, Rhys had gotten caught up in the moment…
But then he’d said all those things…and he’d pursued her.
Charlie sat at a red light, clenching and unclenching her hands on the steering wheel as she tried to reconcile what he’d said with what she knew—what the world had shown her, again and again—to be true. Men like Rhys Walker were not attracted to women like her.
He was gorgeous, smart, funny. He walked into rooms and heads turned. He spoke and people listened. He could have anyone. Anyone.
So why would he choose her?
Someone behind her leaned on their horn and she realized that the light had changed. She put her foot down, forcing herself to concentrate on the road. She drove past the turnoff for Balmain and into the neighboring suburb of Rozelle. She pulled into the guest parking spot at Gina’s workplace ten minutes later. She turned off the engine and pulled out her phone, dialing her friend.
“C. What’s up?” Gina asked.
“Are you busy? Do you have time to talk?”
There was a small, telling pause. “I can make time. Do you want me to come over to your place?”
“I’m out front.”
“Five seconds,” Gina said.
Charlie had barely put her phone in her handbag when Gina exited the building, phone in one hand, bag in the other. She opened the passenger door.
“Please tell me everything’s okay with the baby,” Gina said, her face a study in concern as she peered in at Charlie.
“She’s fine. Healthy and moving and complete.”
“Thank God. It was the first thing I thought of.” Gina slid into the car and pulled the door shut. Then she suddenly smiled, her eyes brightening. “You said she. Does that mean you’re having a little girl?”
Charlie nodded.
“Hey, that’s so cool,” Gina said. “A little girl.”
“Yeah.”
Gina shifted so that her body angled more toward Charlie. “So if the scan was okay, what’s up?”
Charlie tried to work out what to say, where to begin. After a few seconds she shrugged. It was all such a mess, there was probably no easy place to start.
“Something happened today. With Rhys. And I don’t know what to do with it.”
“What sort of thing? A good thing or a bad thing?”
“He tried to kiss me.”
Gina cocked her head. “Since when do you not know what to do when a hot guy tries to kiss you?”
Charlie dropped her gaze to where her hands were clasped in her lap. “Rhys isn’t just a hot guy.”
“But you agree he’s hot?”
Charlie made a frustrated noise, but Gina held up a hand to silence her.
“I’m not yanking your chain by asking you that. Believe it or not, whether you’re still attracted to Rhys is kind of a big deal in this situation.” Gina cocked an eyebrow. Waiting.
“I’m attracted to him,” Charlie said quietly. “But that just makes me one of about a million, from what I can tell.”
Gina frowned. “Why do you keep doing that?”
“What?”
“Deflecting. Or maybe it’s distracting. Every time I ask if you like Rhys or are attracted to him you tell me that it would be impossible not to like him and that, of course, you find him attractive, because who wouldn’t? I want to know what you think, Charlie. What you want.”
Charlie couldn’t hold her friend’s gaze.
“Do you even know?” Gina asked after a moment, her voice low with sympathy.
So many thoughts and feelings were jumbled inside Charlie’s head, she knew she couldn’t even begin to articulate them.
“I’m not setting myself up for failure.”
“Why would you be setting yourself up for failure by acknowledging you’re attracted to a man who tried to kiss you? Call me
crazy, but it seems to me that he’s kind of flagging a few things here. You know, like the fact that he wants to kiss you.”
Charlie made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Under any other circumstances, Rhys wouldn’t even look twice at me, but we’re trapped in this situation. I don’t want to be some kind of consolation prize. I don’t want to be convenient.”
“You are not a consolation prize, Charlotte Long, and you are definitely not convenient. You are a beautiful, smart, capable, resourceful, funny woman. If I was a man, I would give Rhys a run for his money. I’d make him fight for you.”
Charlie shook her head, instinctively rejecting her friend’s words. Gina was being kind. It was what she did. Telling Charlie what she thought she needed to hear.
“You don’t need to pump me up. I know how the world works. I’m not stupid.”
“You have no idea how the world works. Not if you think I’m flattering you without cause and if you think Rhys would kiss you just because you happen to be the woman he’s with at the time.” Gina looked a little angry, her face flushed with color.
“Maybe we should talk about this another time,” Charlie said. “You sounded busy when I called. I don’t want to keep you from your stuff.”
Gina studied her, her gaze sharp, assessing. “You know, I was scared spitless of you when we first met at recruit training. You were so bloody cool and reserved and determined. No one was as tough as you. Remember when you cut your hand on that can of stew when we were on a training exercise? I would have screamed for a chopper to take me to the nearest hospital, but you merely wrapped it up and told everyone you were fine.”
“I was fine.”
“You needed five stitches when we got back to base.”
“I was still fine.”
“I thought you were the bravest person I’d ever met. I used to feel like such a wimp every time I got scared or tired. I’d look at you and tell myself that if you could do it, so could I.”
Charlie frowned. That wasn’t how she remembered recruit training. She’d been terrified of failure. It wasn’t until later—once she understood that the army had been her last, desperate bid to win her father’s love and approval—that she’d understood why.
“I was scared all the time, too,” she said.
“I know. I just worked that out.”
Charlie rubbed at the thin white scar on the back of her left hand, the legacy from that incident during training.
“Tell me what you’re afraid of now, Charlie,” Gina said, her voice very soft.
Charlie remained silent, staring at her scar.
“Is it too hard? Or are you afraid that if you start, you won’t be able to stop?”
Charlie’s gaze shot to her friend’s face. Gina watched her steadily. Patiently.
Charlie’s chest was tight. Everything in her told her to open the door and walk away from this conversation she never should have initiated. She should have done what she always did—circle the wagons, protect herself and wait for the storm to pass, for whatever had happened between her and Rhys to blow over.
After all, there was no risk of rejection if you didn’t put yourself out there in the first place.
“I’m not brave. Not by a long shot.” The words came from her gut, raw and honest.
“How about we suspend the value judgments for a few minutes? How about you let yourself be a human being for once?”
Charlie’s throat got tight as she stared at her friend, as though a lifetime of repressed fears and thoughts and feelings had suddenly rushed up all at once, wanting out. Wanting to be free.
Ever since she was very young she’d kept her own counsel, grieving her personal failures in private. While she was growing up, her father had been distant, disengaged. Later, as an adult she’d never had a truly trusted confidante.
But now Gina was inviting her to share, offering her friendship and understanding and empathy. Offering to know all of Charlie, and promising not to turn away, no matter what she revealed. She took a deep breath. Gripped her hands together tightly.
“What if I fall in love with him and he doesn’t love me back?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHARLIE’S VOICE SOUNDED small and choked. Gina took her hand, her face creased with sympathy.
“Everyone takes that risk when they fall in love, Charlie. Everyone.”
But Charlie knew that some people were better at being loved than others. At being lovable. Some people simply had the knack for it. Gina and Rhys, the whole of Rhys’s family… But not Charlie. She’d always had to work hard to be loved. And it seemed to her that the harder she’d worked, the more she’d wanted it, the harder it had been to hold on to.
“I don’t think I’m enough for him.”
“What does that mean? Enough what?”
“Beautiful enough. Smart enough. Interesting enough.”
Gina’s frown deepened. Her fingers squeezed more tightly. “It kills me to hear you say that. How can you not know how special you are?”
More than anything in the whole world, Charlie wanted to believe what her friend was saying. Wanted to believe that the lessons life had taught her were wrong, that she’d somehow been mistaken all these years.
But the lessons had been too harsh, and too hard hitting. They sat in her bones, a part of her. Incontrovertible.
“Here’s how special I am—when I was thirteen, Billy Hendricks wouldn’t go in the cupboard with me when we were playing Spin the Bottle. When I was seventeen, I was the only girl at my school who didn’t have a partner for the debutante ball. When I was five—” Charlie swallowed and took a deep breath, very aware of the hot pressure building behind her eyes. No way was she sniveling self-pityingly, not when she was already exposing herself so fully. “When I was five, my father asked my aunt to take me in, but she refused and he was stuck with me. When I was eighteen, he told me it was time for me to leave home and stand on my own two feet. I know you’re trying to be kind, and I love you for it, but I am not a special person, Gina. I don’t know what I am, but I am definitely not that.”
“Charlie.” Gina’s hand tightened painfully on hers as she blinked away tears. “Those people are all stupid. Your father… I don’t even know what to say about a man who was willing to give up his own child. But I know that whatever it is, it’s about him, not you. You are lovely, Charlie. Lovely and extraordinary and smart and loyal and so many good things that I can’t even begin to list them. I was thrilled when you took me up on my offer of the spare room, because it meant I’d lured you to Sydney and I’d get to see you more often. Those three years we lived together were some of the best of my life.” A tear slid down Gina’s cheek.
“I didn’t tell you any of that stuff so you’d feel sorry for me,” Charlie said. “I just want the truth. All my life, that’s all I’ve ever wanted. I don’t want people to pretend or be polite or kind. I’d rather know what’s what, and get on with things. I don’t want to be some sort of obligation or duty.”
Gina wrapped her arms around Charlie. “I don’t pity you. I feel sad for you. I feel angry for you—angry that life can be so bloody sucky to good people sometimes. You deserve a whole lot better than the shitty hand you’ve been dealt, Charlie. But your father’s failure as a parent does not define you. It certainly doesn’t mean that you should stop trying and believing.”
Charlie rested her head on her friend’s shoulder, suddenly incredibly weary. She was so sick of fighting all the time. Of being strong. Of pretending she didn’t care.
She cared. She cared too much. She always had.
After a minute Gina released her and pulled back.
“I want you to promise me something—the next time Rhys tries to kiss you, promise me you’ll let him.”
“It probably won’t ha
ppen.”
“I’m betting it will. And I want you to believe in it, Charlie. Don’t push him away because you think he’s being kind. Men don’t kiss women to be kind. They definitely don’t have sex with them because they’re being kind. I want you to give Rhys a chance to prove himself to you. I want you to give yourself a chance.”
Charlie started to shake her head. Gina was asking too much. Rhys was so overwhelming, so…everything. If she allowed herself to believe that she might have a future with him and nothing came of it… She had no idea how she would recover.
“It’s too messy. We have to think of the baby. If things didn’t work out, it would be horrible.”
“But what if they did? What if you fell in love with Rhys and he with you?”
“It’s a fairy tale. Too convenient and twee to be real.”
“I bet it’s happened in the history of the world. Why can’t it happen for you and Rhys?” Gina’s gaze was challenging.
A thousand reasons why it couldn’t happen for her and Rhys circled her mind.
Because I’m me.
Because life doesn’t work like that.
Because it would be too perfect. Too much.
“Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith. You are the gutsiest woman I know. You can go on this journey with Rhys. I know you can. Give yourself a chance to be happy.”
Charlie shook her head, but there was no conviction behind the gesture. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I want. I need to think about this…”
Gina didn’t say anything and when Charlie finally met her eyes, she saw understanding there.
Gina knew she was lying. She knew what Charlie wanted. She also knew Charlie was too scared to reach out for it.
“I love you, C,” she said simply.
Charlie’s chest squeezed all over again and she blinked rapidly. “I love you, too.”
Her voice sounded rusty. How long had it been since she’d dared to say those words to another human being?
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