by Andrews, Amy
Ethan gave her a don’t-be-daft look. “Of course you can,” he said, exasperation colouring his voice. “Why don’t you just do it there? Your old machine’s still in your room. Save you hauling everything here and Connie can try it on when she gets home from school.”
Lacey’s family had bought her a top-of-the-range sewing machine for her eighteenth birthday to replace the one her mother had given her when she’d turned twelve. It was true she wouldn’t need anything fancy for this job and it made sense to run it up back home where she’d have easier access to Connie, but she wasn’t ready to make nice with her brother just yet.
“Here’s fine,” she said.
Ethan gave a tense nod. “Suit yourself.” He looked at the tabletop for a moment before returning his attention to Lacey. “I didn’t ask yesterday … are you well? Have you set up an appointment with Doc Janson?”
Lacey screwed up her face. “What for? To tell me what I already know?”
Even if she had been pregnant she wouldn’t be seeing Doc Janson. He was a lovely old gent who’d been the family doctor forever and had been a constant support during their mother’s two-year battle with cancer, but Lacey wasn’t comfortable taking any female stuff to the man who had previously only given her her shots and, once in a blue moon, looked down her throat.
“For … tests and general pregnancy … stuff,” Ethan said vaguely.
“Thanks. I think I’ll stick with someone who trained this century.” He had to be at least ninety by now, surely?
“She needs to see a doctor,” Ethan said, ignoring her and talking directly to Coop.
“I’ll make sure she sets it up,” Coop said.
A spiral of rage catapulted through Lacey’s system. I’ll make sure she sets it up? Like he was her freaking keeper or something. Both of them talking about her like she was a child. Like she wasn’t even here?
Lacey opened her mouth to tell both of them to shove it, but Connie chose that moment to return with her drink and Lacey forced a smile onto her face.
It almost killed her.
* * *
Later that night after a bowl of Coop’s mother’s delicious soup Lacey was in a better mood. She’d done a shop at the local supermarket today so there was food in the cupboards, but not having to cook was always decadent. Coop had buttered up a stack of hot toast to go with it and Lacey had devoured three slices.
In fact, curled up on the couch now in her pajamas with a cup of hot chocolate, watching Masterchef on the TV, Lacey felt positively mellow. Coop was at the other end of the couch reading a book. It seemed like he was far away down there. And not just physically.
She watched him out the corner of her eye every now and then as he read an absolutely huge hardback. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles and his T-shirt sat snug against his abs. His concentration on the book was absolute.
Lucky book.
The show ended and Coop was still reading. Lacey rolled her head to look at him. “You know you can read books on your phone now, right?”
“So I hear,” he said, not looking up.
“I’ve got about ten on my phone at the moment.”
“I like paper.” His gaze remained steadfastly fixed on his book. “Guess I’m just old-fashioned like that.”
If he was trying to remind her of their age difference, he’d succeeded. But the truth was it didn’t matter to Lacey. It hadn’t mattered to her the night she’d picked him up in a bar and it didn’t matter to her now.
“Each to their own,” she shrugged.
“Mmm.”
Lacey contemplated yanking her top off to get Coop to look at her. Was this the way it was going to be? Was a little conversation too much to ask? Was there anything wrong with making the best out of a bad situation?
She was up for making the best of it in every way possible.
“There’s also Kindles,” she said, goaded by his continuing concentration. “They’re supposed to be brilliant too.”
Coop sighed and finally looked at her. “Yes.” He shut the book, put it on the coffee table and stood.
“Where’re you going?” she asked as her gaze followed him around the couch. “Hitting the sack already?”
“Shower.”
His answer was curt, but it didn’t really matter as Lacey’s brain went into overdrive. Thinking about Coop in the shower. Thinking about doing Coop in the shower.
It didn’t bode well for the next two weeks that she was already thinking about turning their fake situation into something a little more real. But the truth was there wasn’t one way she hadn’t fantasied about doing Coop—about Coop doing her—over the years. They’d had chemistry right from the start. She’d been hot for him right from the start.
Weren’t little sisters supposed to develop crushes on friends of their brothers?
Lacey wasn’t sure she had it in her to keep this two weeks platonic. The sound of the shower running did not help. Could she take listening to that shower run for the next two weeks and know he was naked in there and not just strip off and get in with him? Something wild and wanton pulsed between her legs. That’s what impulsive Lacey would do.
But she was supposed to be proving to him she wasn’t a screw-up …
Lacey sighed, shoving a fist between her legs and pressing in hard to relieve the ache.
Being a grown-up sucked.
* * *
Two hours later Lacey was lying in her double bed, her back turned to Coop, pretending to be asleep while he sat up in his bed against the headboard and continued to read. The room was quiet and dark except for the glow of Coop’s bedside lamp. He was wearing a white T-shirt that stretched very nicely over his shoulders. Beneath the sheets were a pair of Nike sports shorts. They fell to just above his knee and were loose but made from some kind of polyester that tended towards a build-up of static.
She’d been able to see the outline of his thighs and other parts of his anatomy as he’d walked out of the shower. It had been most distracting and nigh on impossible not to cop a perve. She’d managed—but only just.
Going to bed had seemed like a good idea. Pregnant women were tired, weren’t they?
But here she was, still awake, trying to ignore the sinful little whisper in her head.
Get into bed with him.
But that’s what a screw-up would do. It was impulsive and not well thought out. And egocentric. And Coop had made his feelings on them becoming involved very clear, even as late as yesterday morning when he’d pulled her hand out of his pants.
So she wouldn’t do that. No matter how much the whisper yammered at the back of her brain.
But maybe she could take a different approach. What would a grown-up do? They’d be honest about it. Talk about it openly. Logically and methodically lay their cards on the table. They’d discuss the pros and cons. They’d make a reasoned argument.
Right. For deciding on whether to start a family or buy a house, sure. Probably not for fucking each other’s brains out while they were pretending to live together.
But Lacey was desperate enough to try. Who knew? Maybe he’d respect her for a mature approach. Maybe she could sway him with reasoned arguments.
Lacey rolled on her side to face him. She watched him for long moments. The muscles in his forearms seemed to tense, the warm, yellow light from the lamp accentuating their form, bathing them in splendour, the blond hairs almost golden.
Did he know she was awake?
“Coop?”
“Mmm.”
He didn’t start, he didn’t look at her, he didn’t shift his attention from the book. It was slightly dismaying and a lesser woman would have been discouraged, but not Lacey. Her pulse kicked up a notch or two as she prepared to make her argument.
“I’d like to talk to you.”
“Mmm.”
Lacey ploughed on. “Do you think you could put that book down for a moment?”
He waited a beat or two before looking at her. “Can�
�t this wait ’til morning?”
“No.”
He sighed, but placed the open book face down on his lap. “What?”
Lacey bent her arm and propped her head up on her palm. “I’ve been thinking about our … situation.”
“Oh?”
It came out sounding nonchalant enough but the lamp picked up the clench of Coop’s jaw and Lacey was enormously encouraged. “It seems kinda silly to me that we’re in separate beds when we’ve already slept together once before and both had a good time.”
His jaw clenched again. “You do, huh?”
She nodded. “It seems dumb not to at least … enjoy ourselves while we’re stuck here with each other.”
“Lacey …” He shifted a little so he was facing her. “I should never have slept with you all those years ago. I’m thirteen years older than you and your brother’s best friend. He asked me to look out for you. Just because I don’t have a sister it doesn’t mean that I don’t get that guys have a very strict code where their sisters are concerned. I broke the code, Lacey and I am not going to compound that by repeating what happened just because of our situation.”
Lacey nodded. This was good. They were having a discussion. And she understood that he felt guilty over what had happened that night they’d first met. But it didn’t seem logical that this kind of bro code stood up in their situation. She was supposed to be pregnant with his child for crying out loud.
“Okay. I understand where you’re coming from. All I’m saying is that we’re in this room together for the next two weeks and I’m pretty sure everyone who knows about this, including Ethan by the way, thinks we’re having sex. So … why not …? You have to know I’m attracted to you and, correct me if I’m wrong but I think you’re still attracted to me.”
“Just because attraction exists it doesn’t have to be acted upon, Lacey.”
She was encouraged by Coop not denying the attraction. Confirming it in fact. “Sure. But if it’s not hurting anyone and it’s a mutual thing then does it really matter?”
He shook his head. “It matters to me. It’s a little thing called personal integrity, okay?” He said it in such a way that left Lacey in no doubt he didn’t consider it to be a topic within her realm of understanding. “I’d like to be able to look your brother in the eye and know I didn’t take advantage of this situation.”
Lacey had to admire Coop’s resolve. Ethan could truly not have picked a better guy to look out for her. “Okay, fine,” she sighed, backing off, her personal integrity calling upon her to leave his intact. “Just so you know though, I don’t mind you taking advantage of the situation.”
“Duly noted,” he said then shifted back into his prior position, picked up his book and started reading again.
Lacey collapsed back on her pillow. It was going to be a long two weeks.
Chapter Seven
‡
Lacey was pleased the next morning when Coop was the same Coop he’d always been, as if her proposition last night hadn’t even happened. She supposed he was used to that. It was almost like his default position with her. And it was probably for the best anyway. He clearly didn’t want to rehash it and the fact that he wasn’t in a bad mood over it was probably a sign that she shouldn’t rehash it either.
He ran her home after breakfast. Ordinarily she would have walked. The Weston family home was about a ten-minute stroll from the pub—nowhere was very far from anywhere in Jumbuck Springs. But there was going to be quite a bit of stuff to bring back, so a car was handy.
“Thanks for doing this,” she said as they pulled up outside her house.
“No worries.”
“You think we could take a trip to Brisbane on the weekend and I can drive my car back?”
“Sure. But I think Mum and Dad are coming up on Thursday. Dad wouldn’t mind driving it here. He can get the spare key from my apartment.”
Lacey had scoffed when Coop had gotten a spare key made after the first time he’d come out to her when she’d locked the keys in her car. But given that she’d done it two more times, and lost her key at a party on another occasion, it had turned out to be quite fortuitous.
“That’d be great,” she said. Lacey wasn’t keen on leaving town so soon, even if it was only for half a day. As far as she was concerned residency was nine-tenths of the law. “They won’t mind?”
Coop shook his head. “Nah. They’d be happy to.”
“They’re good people, your parents,” she said, undoing her seatbelt.
“Yeah,” he grinned. “I think I’ll keep them.”
Lacey exited the car and Coop followed. “Morning, Mrs Durrum,” she called and waved to their eighty-year-old neighbour who was at the front gate checking her letterbox.
The Durrums had lived next door for fifty years. Edna had been a widow for the last thirty. Selena, Mrs Durrum’s granddaughter, who she’d raised singlehandedly until Selena had left Jumbuck Springs for the big smoke to study journalism, had been Jarrod’s girlfriend all through high school.
“Morning, Lacey dear, so nice to see you back. You here to stay?”
“Yes,” Lacey smiled. “I am.” It still felt surreal to say it. Lacey figured the more people who knew the better.
Mrs Durrum bestowed a satisfied smile her way. “That’s good news.”
“Yes, it is,” Lacey agreed. “How’s Selena?”
“She’s fine, lovey. Busy, busy, of course but she writes every week without fail.”
Lacey kept the smile firmly in place. Selena hadn’t been back to town since she’d left and although Mrs Durrum never said it, Lacey knew her heart ached.
“That’s nice,” Lacey murmured.
The old lady didn’t linger over the subject. “Drop in and see me sometime.”
“I will Mrs Durrum, thank you.”
The old lady gave a little wave as Coop pushed the gate open for Lacey. “I’ve been thinking about your car,” he said.
“Oh yes?”
“It’s an unreliable, forty-year-old, broken down money pit—”
“Hey,” Lacey protested as her foot landed on the path.
“But I could turn it into a classic beauty that purrs like a kitten.” Lacey concentrated really hard on not thinking about how much she wished he would make her purr like a kitten. “And will start first time every time.”
Lacey was a huge admirer of Coop’s car restoration business and how he’d gone on to build a new life in a completely different direction after his devastating injuries, but there was no way she could afford the kind of prices he charged. Even at mates rates it just wasn’t in her budget. She opened her mouth to politely decline, but he jumped in ahead of her.
“Just think about it,” he said. “You don’t really need a car to get around Jumbuck Springs so it won’t matter if it’s off the road for a few weeks and it’ll give me a project to work on while I’m here. Campbell’s isn’t exactly busy. I can work on it in-between times and the weekends. I might not be able to get it done before I leave but I could finish it off back home.”
“Coop … Thank you, really, but I can’t afford you.”
“It’s on the house.”
Lacey shook her head vehemently. “No.” That was a step too far. She’d spent the last few years taking advantage of him and she totally would have last night if he’d been up for it. But this? His work? His livelihood?
“You forget.” She stopped on the bottom step. “I know what you charge.”
“Honestly, you’d be doing me a favour,” he said.
“Oh really?” Lacey raised an eyebrow. “How’d you figure that?”
“I’m trying to get over the perception that the business, that car restoration, is just a bloke thing. We do a lot of stuff for guys and that’s great but in doing so we ignore another potential market. Gav and I have been talking about attracting a female clientele for a while now. We just need the right job. I think the Mini would be perfect. I’d do it up then use it in all our advertising to show that
we do more than muscle cars.”
He looked sincere enough, but Lacey wasn’t sure it wasn’t some elaborate story. “You’re serious? You’re not just making it up on the spot because you’re sick of being my personal roadside assistance?”
That had happened a bit too often. She’d probably interrupted his workday about a dozen times in all. Him coming to her rescue all sweaty and greasy straight from an engine.
Do not think about Coop all greasy and sweaty.
“I’m serious. I honestly don’t know why I didn’t think of your pile of junk before. I can turn her into one sweet ride. She’ll look gorgeous. She’s exactly what we need.”
“Okay,” she shrugged. She didn’t care about gorgeous so much, but having a more reliable car would definitely be a bonus. And being able to pay Coop back for all his help with her car was a bonus. “Knock yourself out.”
“You won’t regret it,” he assured.
Lacey nodded. “I don’t doubt it.”
No-one was home when they entered the house and they were in and out quickly. When they got back to The Stockman, Coop helped Lacey upstairs with all the stuff, then went off to see Alec Campbell. After he left, Lacey looked around at the garbage bags full of fabric and her two large, plastic tackle boxes that she’d used for all kinds of sewing bits and bobs.
She opened the lid of the first one and pulled out the top drawer; an array of buttons stared back at her from the different compartments. Collecting buttons had been a hobby since she’d first started making her own clothes from the age of twelve. Not that she’d made anything for herself since moving to Brisbane. Clothes were plentiful and cheap in the big city compared to a small country town, and convenience had won out.
She opened the next drawer, which boasted reels of cotton, and the next stuffed full of different types of ribbon. She fingered the nearest one—a plush crimson velvet she’d used on a dress she’d made to go to a cousin’s wedding. A sense of home rose like a tide inside her and she sank to the bed as it overwhelmed her. Even with home a ten-minute walk away, Lacey knew this was where she belonged.