More Than One Night

by Sarah Mayberry

  “I know,” he said simply. “There’s no rush.”

  Gratitude filled her, along with a wash of love for him. He was so much bigger and better than any of her imaginings had made him. He was the man of her dreams.

  CHARLIE DIDN’T THINK things could get better, but the next month slipped past in a haze of happy days and long, steamy nights. She’d thought the passion between them might die off after a while—all good things faded with time—but their chemistry only seemed to burn brighter and higher. He told her he found her burgeoning body erotic and sexy as hell and she could only believe him since he backed up his claims with lots of solid evidence.

  They were together when The Bean first made her presence felt at seventeen weeks, sending a ripple of sensation across Charlie’s belly. She gasped and nearly leaped off the sofa, scaring Rhys half to death before she explained what had happened. Her eighteen-week scan confirmed that everything was progressing normally with their little girl and they began to discuss names in earnest, finally settling on Beth Emily Walker.

  “Although she will forever be The Bean to me,” Rhys said.

  They were nearing the end of June when Gina began making noises about Charlie’s birthday. Her birthdays had never been a big deal in the Long household, her mother’s death being inextricably linked with the date. Traditionally Charlie marked the day by buying herself an indulgent slice of cake and a bunch of flowers. Gina, however, had other ideas.

  “I want to throw you a party. You could invite Trish and Yvonne and Hannah—I’m sure they’d love an excuse to ask for leave, and who doesn’t love Sydney? You can invite Rhys’s family and Spencer and any of your clients you like enough to break bread with.”

  They were in Gina’s kitchen, polishing off the last of a batch of scones Charlie had made as part of her continuing quest to master the art of cooking.

  “I don’t know,” Charlie said doubtfully.

  “Give me one good reason why it’s a bad idea for all your friends and loved ones to celebrate the fact that you came into the world,” Gina challenged.

  “Well, for starters, it’s the same day my mother died,” Charlie said quietly. “And I’ve always felt…I don’t know…ungrateful for getting excited about my birthday. Plus, I haven’t told Rhys it’s coming up and I know his family will want to make a big deal, too, and I’m really not sure about any of it.”

  Gina pulled a face. “Sorry. I forgot about your mum.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “But that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t have a party for your birthday, Charlie. I bet your mum would hate to think that you’ve never allowed yourself to have a special day because of her. If I were a mother, that would really piss me off.”

  “I think if you were a mother, you’d say ticked off,” Charlie said.

  “Stop deflecting. I promise it won’t be over the top or too in your face. We’ll have nice food and some music and everyone can dance attendance on you and worship your big fat belly.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Come on. You know everyone wants to touch it. I can barely keep my hands off it and I know how private you are.”

  “You can touch it if you want,” Charlie said shyly.

  “Yeah?”

  “If you put your hand right here, you might even feel her moving around. She’s been active this afternoon.”

  Charlie guided her friend’s hand to a spot to the left of her belly button. She felt the baby surge inside her—she’d decided after a few weeks it felt like corn popping, not an eyelash brushing her skin or a fish swimming around—and watched Gina’s face.

  “Can you feel her?”

  “I think so. Like a tiny little earth tremor. Hey there, little lady.”

  They exchanged smiles. Gina reversed their grips, catching Charlie’s hand in hers and giving it a squeeze.

  “Let me throw you a party, Charlie. Please, pretty please?” Gina put on her best beseeching expression.

  Charlie glanced at her belly, thinking of all that lay ahead. Thinking of the birthdays her little girl would enjoy one day. She would want her to celebrate. To be happy, no matter what.

  “Okay. But please don’t go to too much trouble. And you have to let me contribute.”

  Gina did a little happy dance and kissed Charlie’s cheek. “You will do no such thing. And you also won’t worry about anything. Leave it all in my capable professional caterer’s hands.”

  Rhys picked her up half an hour later and she rather sheepishly told him about the party as they drove the two blocks to her apartment.

  “You didn’t tell me your birthday was coming up,” he said blankly.

  “I usually don’t make a big deal out of it. It’s Mum’s anniversary, too, and it’s always felt weird. But Gina wants to throw me a party. And I think I want to let her.”

  Rhys’s gaze was understanding as he looked at her. “Then you should. You know my family will want to come, right?”

  “I’d love for them to be there.”

  “Try to keep them away. Now I have to come up with a suitable gift for you.”

  “Like I said, I don’t usually make a big deal out of my birthday.”

  “I promise not to go too over the top.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. He had his teasing face on, which could mean anything.

  “Promise me you won’t spend a lot of money or do something crazy.”

  “Can’t do that. But I will promise that it will be good. Whatever it is.”

  She bit her tongue, swallowing the urge to protest. He’d only dig his heels in and become even more cryptic and mysterious. One thing she’d learned about the Walker men was that they loved a good tease. The more prolonged and infuriating the better.

  “Good girl,” Rhys said smugly.

  “Wait till it’s your birthday.”

  “I will.”

  As usual, she felt a peculiar little thrill over the fact that she’d made a reference to the future and Rhys hadn’t pulled her up short or pointed out that what she was talking about was weeks, maybe even months, away and that they had no business planning that far ahead. It was stupid—and yet another example of how she couldn’t seem to let go of the deeply ingrained lessons of her past—but she was aware that a part of her tested Rhys every time she referenced the future. As though one day she would catch him and he would be forced to admit that he’d been playing her for a fool all along.

  She didn’t believe that, not in her heart of hearts. When she lay next to him in bed at night and he reached for her in his sleep, she knew that he meant it when he said he loved her. He phoned her at least once a day, usually at lunch to check on how she was doing, and every morning he opened his eyes and smiled when he saw her looking at him.

  He loved her, and she loved him. They made each other happy. There was absolutely no reason for her to still be carrying around the gnawing sense that, any moment now, her happiness could blow away like so much dust. She told herself every day to get over it, to move on, and while the sense of fragility and uncertainty had diminished, there was always a nagging little voice in the back of her head urging her to be cautious and careful and wary.

  Maybe when the baby was born the voice would go away. Or maybe she was doomed to carry it around with her for the remainder of her days. Maybe it was the legacy of a sterile childhood, an absent mother and a distant father.

  Or maybe it would simply take more than a couple of months of Rhys in her life and in her bed for her to accept that she was loved and that this really could be her future.

  THE DAY OF HER PARTY brought with it leaden clouds and a cold, bone-chilling breeze. Rhys woke her with kisses and breakfast in bed, followed by a hot shower and even hotter lovemaking. Only when she was lying flushed and limp on the sheets did he pl
ace a small box on her belly.

  “Happy birthday, Charlie,” he said quietly.

  She stared at the small, square velvet box, her heart leaping into her throat.

  Surely he hadn’t…?

  He couldn’t possibly have. They were still finding their feet together.

  No. He wouldn’t.

  “This looks interesting,” she said, forcing a bright note into her voice.

  Rhys didn’t say anything, although she could feel him watching her, weighing her reaction. She willed her hands not to shake as she opened the hinged lid on the box. A pair of intricately worked silver-and-gold earrings nestled against white velvet. Charlie recognized them as the work of the same artist who had made the bracelets she’d bought for Kim and Becky’s birthday.

  She looked at Rhys, enormously touched that he’d come up with such a thoughtful gift.

  “Thank you,” she said simply. “They’re beautiful.”

  “I love you, Charlie.”

  Warmth filled her chest. She reached out and wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him close so that she could press her face against his shoulder. She inhaled his scent and rubbed her cheek against his.

  “I love you, too.”

  It was the first time she’d been able to voice her feelings—the first time she’d felt safe enough to. His arms tightened around her and they lay together for a long moment, holding each other. Loving each other.

  After a few minutes the baby made her presence felt with a powerful kick, almost as if she sensed that the outside world was preoccupied with something other than her for a change.

  “Wow. I felt that,” Rhys said, pulling away from her to stare at her belly.

  “She’s going to be a fighter, our Beth,” Charlie said, hands pressing the taut curve of her abdomen.

  “Like her mum,” Rhys said.

  The phone rang then and the rest of the morning was consumed with getting ready for her party and helping Gina out with a few last-minute details, like picking up some flowers and extra bottles of wine. They arrived an hour before everyone else, but Gina insisted on Charlie putting her feet up while she and Rhys finished the preparations.

  Gina had cleared off the covered patio and borrowed some clear marquee walls from work in order to make the space weather tight. Giant gas-powered jet heaters sat in opposing corners, already making the space toasty. A long trestle table groaned with food, again courtesy of Gina’s work. Charlie had insisted that her friend let her pay for the party, but Rhys and Gina had overridden her. Her job, she had been told more than once, was to sit back and lap it up.

  A hard task for someone who had always prided herself on being a team player. She wasn’t used to being the center of attention, but as guests started to arrive she became so absorbed in greeting and talking that she forgot that this day was all about her. The Walkers were their usual boisterous selves, and there was much laughter and hugs when her army friends arrived from interstate. She was particularly touched that Yvonne and Hannah had flown all the way from Perth—no small feat—and spent a good half hour huddled in a corner with them catching up on their news and allowing them to feel her belly. As Gina had predicted, her bump was the star of the show.

  “I’m starting to get worried about what it’ll be like when I get really big,” she said in an aside to Rhys.

  “Complete strangers will accost you in the street. That’s what happened with my sisters.”

  “Lucky I know self-defense, then.”

  Wine flowed and conversation swelled and Charlie felt as though she was awash in a sea of friendship and affection. She was enjoying a quiet moment alone, watching everyone talk and laugh around her, when Gina sidled up.

  “Told you it would be fun, didn’t I?” she said.

  “You did. Thank you. This is really, really nice.”

  “I give good party, what can I say? And you have good friends.”

  Gina waited until the trestle table was being cleared in preparation for dessert before clinking a fork against her wineglass to get everyone’s attention.

  “Okay, people, it’s that time of the day when we get to embarrass Charlie. Come on up here, birthday girl.”

  Rhys urged Charlie forward with a hand in the small of her back, and she took her place beside Gina, standing on the rear step.

  “Look at you, all aglow with your pregnancy hormones,” Gina said.

  Everyone laughed. Charlie looked out at the sea of smiling faces and felt her throat close up with emotion. One of the things she’d loved the most about being part of the army was the sense that she belonged—not a particularly startling observation, given her background, and probably one of the reasons why she’d chosen to serve for so long. Much of her nervousness about becoming a civilian had been anxiety at the loss of that sense of belonging and identity, but looking out at her gathered friends and Rhys’s family, she understood something that she’d never really allowed herself to register before—family wasn’t defined only by blood ties and the accident of birth. Family could be made, too, held together with bonds of friendship and shared experience and love and goodwill.

  “Brace yourselves, I’m about to get maudlin,” Gina said. “I met Charlie during recruit training more than fourteen years ago. At the time, I was freaking out over the fact that I’d signed my life away. Recruit training was hard and demanding, and after the first few days I started to think I’d made the biggest mistake of my life. Then I got paired with Charlie for an orienteering exercise.”

  Gina glanced at Charlie, her eyes dancing with mischief. Charlie shook her head, knowing it was pointless to try to stop her friend from telling tall stories.

  “To this day, I don’t know how I got paired with her, because everyone wanted to be with Charlie. We’d all worked out on the first day that she was the only one who knew what she was doing. She was fit and she was tough and she never, ever complained. She made me feel like the saddest, wimpiest princess ever.”

  “She’s exaggerating,” Charlie interjected.

  “She’s right, I am. She did complain one time—she told me I was holding her back when I asked to stop for a rest break.”

  Everyone laughed. Charlie caught Rhys’s eye and pulled a “can you believe this?” face. He had his arms crossed over his chest and his gaze was affectionate as he watched her. She flashed to this morning—the feel of his arms around her, the scent of his skin, the words I love you hanging in the air between them. As lovely as all this was, she had a sudden craving to be back in her bedroom, only the two of them.

  “Once training was done we all went our separate ways and I didn’t run into Charlie again until we were both posted to Townsville. The moment I heard she’d arrived at the same time as me I suggested we share digs together. I’m not stupid, right? I’d learned my lesson the first time—find the smartest and the strongest and copy her for all you’re worth.”

  Charlie bumped Gina with her hip, embarrassed by her effusive praise. Gina tucked her arm through Charlie’s but didn’t stop talking.

  “The three years we lived together were some of the best of my life. I learned that not only was Charlie the best soldier I knew, she was also the best friend a woman could have. Loyal, generous, supportive, honest—and she wasn’t afraid to hand out a bit of tough love, either. She’s also the woman least likely to hog the limelight, least likely to demand credit for her accomplishments and least likely to ask for help when she needs it, even though I can name dozens of people who would fall over themselves to provide it.

  “Needless to say, I am thrilled to death that Charlie allowed me to throw her this party today because I have been waiting for years to spoil her and make her squirm.” Gina turned to face Charlie, her eyes suspiciously shiny. “Think of it as payback for all those sit-ups you made me do so I’d pass physica
l. I love you, friend. Happy birthday.”

  Everyone else took up the cheer. Charlie blinked furiously as Gina hugged her tightly.

  “And now, someone else has something he’d like to say,” Gina said, disentangling herself from Charlie’s embrace.

  Gina stepped down, and Rhys stepped up. Charlie sniffed and used the excuse of pushing her hair behind her ear to wipe a tear from her cheek.

  “How you doing there, tiger?” Rhys asked, a small smile on his lips.

  “Let’s just get this over with.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “Suck it up, Charlie,” Becky heckled from the rear of the patio. “Take it like a woman.”

  Rhys took her hand. “Not so long ago, someone asked me why I wasn’t married yet. I’ll leave it up to you to guess who’d ask such a forthright question. And no, it wasn’t my mother.”

  Everyone laughed. Charlie gave Rhys a dark look.

  “You asked some pretty pointed questions that night, too, if I remember.”

  Rhys squeezed her hand. “My answer to this very direct question was that I hadn’t met anyone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with yet. I was completely wrong, of course. I had met her—she was sitting in front of me, doing her damnedest to make the best of a bad situation. It just took me a while to work it out.”

  For some reason, her stomach did a slow, nervous roll. As though it knew something that she didn’t. Rhys didn’t take his eyes from hers as he continued talking.

  “Charlie, you are the best person I know. I love the way you never do anything by halves. I love the way you refuse to retreat. I love your quiet sense of humor. I love you. These past months with you have made everything else in my life suddenly make sense. I literally can’t imagine my life without you in it. Better yet, I don’t want to.”

  It took Charlie a moment to realize what was happening as Rhys stepped down to the patio and sank on to one knee. The hand holding hers was trembling as he looked up into her face.