Just My Luck (Escape to New Zealand #5)

by Rosalind James

  She looked down, then. Picked up her gym bag and set it on her lap, wrapped her arms around it and hugged it to her, just for something to hold on to.

  “I didn’t,” she admitted, still not looking at him. “I wouldn’t have minded doing the regular clothes. Well, I didn’t even want to do those, not really. And I really didn’t want to do that.”

  “Then why did you?” he pressed.

  “Because . . .” She sighed. “Because when I said no, at first, everyone thought it was just me being a snotty American again, I could tell. That I didn’t want to help. That I thought I was too good for them. Too . . . You know.”

  “Too good-looking,” he suggested. “Entitled.”

  “Yeah. That I was stuck on myself. So I had to say yes, don’t you see?”

  He was silent for a few moments, and she waited for him to speak, hating that she cared so much. That she was letting him judge her. And at the same time, wanted him to understand.

  “So,” he said at last, “your choice was, do something that made you uncomfortable, but that other people wanted you to do. Or say no and make them angry.”

  “Yes,” she said with relief. “That was it.”

  “You decided,” he said, “that you’d rather disappoint yourself than disappoint anyone else. That making yourself uncomfortable is OK, but making anyone else feel that way is wrong.”

  She looked at him in surprise. “Yes,” she said slowly. “I did.”

  “D’you see why I was narked, then?” he pressed. “Watching you do something I knew was making you feel so bad? And something that made me feel bad too,” he admitted. “Because I did feel bad. Wanted to jump straight up there with you, cover you up, and take you out of there.”

  “I wish you had,” she said, beginning to smile, but feeling her mouth trembling a little as she did it. “When I saw you sitting there with your teammates, I wanted to turn around and run. Except that when I turned around,” she added with a shaky laugh, “I was giving you all a pretty good view too.”

  “Yes, you were,” he said with a smile of his own. “And I’d just like to say for the record here, I’d love to see every bit of that again. As long as you were only showing it to me.”

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Kristen,” he said, and his expression was serious again. “That doesn’t give anyone any rights to you. Just because they want a piece of you, it doesn’t mean you have to give it to them. Because that’s what it feels like, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes,” she sighed. “That’s it. That I’m always having to prove I’m a regular person. To go out of my way to do it, or they’ll assume that I think I’m, what you said. Entitled.”

  He nodded. “I know, because I get that too. Not so much for my pretty face, oddly enough,” he said, making her smile this time, “but being a footy player, being recognized.”

  “Being a celebrity,” she agreed.

  “Yeh. Means you have to draw your boundaries. And if something feels wrong to do, don’t do it. That line’s different for everyone. I don’t talk about my private life, but some of the boys have Twitter accounts, and heaps of followers too. Tell everyone when they went to the dentist, what they ate for dinner. Course, could be I don’t do it because I’d be embarrassed that nobody’d want to follow me.”

  “No,” she said. “I suspect you don’t do it because you value your privacy.”

  “Well, that’s what I tell myself, anyway.”

  “You said you’d made some bad choices too, though,” she said. “Which I have to tell you, was such a relief.”

  He laughed at that. “A relief? Glad to help, but how d’you mean?”

  “I mean,” she tried to explain, “take Ally, for one. She’s so confident, isn’t she? The first time I met her, she was teaching me to climb. I was such a mess, right after my divorce. I was only doing it because my therapist suggested it, and I was scared. And Ally . . . she just seemed so strong. I thought, why can’t I be like that? I still think so, all the time. And then, of course, Hannah.”

  “Hannah. Does she climb too, then?”

  “No,” Kristen said with a smile. “That’s about the only thing I do better than her. Well, that and dress. She’s still a terrible dresser, a lot of the time.”

  Liam laughed. “Can’t say I’ve noticed, but I’ll take your word for it.”

  “She’s great,” Kristen assured him, “and I love her more than anybody, but she does everything so right, you know? It’s so hard not to compare myself to her, especially when she’s right there in front of me, living her perfect life with her perfect husband and her perfect baby and her perfect job. She doesn’t have any idea of what it’s like to get it all so wrong and have to start over, knowing that everybody knows how wrong you got it.”

  “Everybody’s made some mistakes,” he said firmly. “I’m sure, if you asked her, Hannah’d tell you about all the ones she’s made. May not have been as spectacular as yours, but I imagine they’re there all the same. All you can do, all anyone can do, is stop making the same ones over and over. And that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

  She sat for a minute, absorbing what he’d said. Realizing that he was right.

  “And d’you want to climb now,” he asked with a smile that went straight to her wounded heart, “or would you rather go straight on to dinner?”

  “Climb,” she said with decision. “Please. And then go to dinner with you.”

  She reached out impulsively for him, felt him stiffen for a moment before he wrapped those big arms around her, pulled her close. And being held by him, resting against the solidity and the strength of him, felt just as good as she’d always known it would.

  She relaxed into him for a few comforting seconds, his cheek warm against hers. Then released him and sat back again.

  “Sorry,” she said, feeling the prick of tears. “I just needed a hug.”

  “No worries,” he said. “Though I’m beginning to think you were put on this earth to test my self-control. It’s been a hell of a struggle to get it. But that’s nothing to how hard it is to hold onto it when I’m with you.”

  A Timid Man

  “Here we are,” Nate announced, arriving at the gym’s front desk on Saturday afternoon and finding Ally, as always, waiting for him. Ready for him. “My final lesson. Do I get a bit of a ceremony here? A lovely wee certificate naming me ‘Most Improved?’ Which means, as we all know, that I was rubbish at the start, and yet I’m still here, but maybe not quite such rubbish.”

  She laughed. Lately, she’d been looking more than pleased to see him. And today, she also looked . . . excited. And a bit nervous, too. Which was fairly cheering, wasn’t it?

  “You are the most improved, and you know it,” she said. “I’ve never seen anyone work so hard.”

  He shrugged, but felt a glow of pleasure at her words. “Training’s what I do. And learning. If you’re not trying to get better, it’s time to hang up the boots. Reckon climbing isn’t much different.”

  “Not much different at all,” she said. “But you’re good to do it today? You sure? After playing last night?”

  “Yeh. I’m good.” Truth was, he was sore. But a bit of climbing wouldn’t hurt him. And he wouldn’t have canceled this for anything. “Let’s go for it.”

  “All right, then,” she decided. “As it is your last lesson, we’ll get you on that overhang that we haven’t done yet, last thing today. That’ll be your ceremony, because then you’ll have accomplished everything.”

  Well, not everything, he thought, getting himself kitted up. But he was getting closer.

  When he stepped lightly down from the final climb, the overhang that he’d never managed to get all the way up before, he had a huge grin on his face. She smiled back at him, put up her hand, and smacked his palm in a high-five.

  “Congratulations,” she told him. “Mr. Most Improved.”

  “Thanks to my awesome teacher. And you’re done for the day, eh. Now that you’ve accomplished the impossible here,
taught me to climb.”

  “I am. Done for the day, I mean,” she said, still smiling. Looking happy to hear what she had to know he’d be asking next.

  “So what can we do to celebrate?” he asked. “I brought my togs today. I’m even prepared to jump off high places with you again if I have to.”

  She laughed again, and he thought that a man would give a lot to be able to bring that look of pleasure to her face. “I didn’t miss that swimming wasn’t your favorite thing. You were a great sport, though.”

  “Also my job,” he pointed out. “So what, then? Want to have dinner with me?” He waited for her answer, still surprised at how much it mattered to him. In fact, he’d rung Logan Brown already, booked a table. Perfect for her, he’d thought. Wellington’s finest restaurant. A beautiful spot, beautiful food, but not too formal. She’d be able to relax, he hoped, be comfortable.

  They’d managed to squeeze him in, accommodate his request for a quiet corner, as he’d known they would. He tried not to ask for special treatment, but he needed this. Now all he had to do was get her there. He didn’t think she’d be impressed just because he spent money on her, but he wanted to show her that he was making an effort. That this mattered to him. That she mattered to him.

  “I’d like that,” she said, and he could tell from the serious look she gave him that she knew what he was doing. That this was a big step. “But a bit later, do you think?”

  “Yeh,” he agreed. “As it’s only five now. And I wasn’t thinking about popping out for fish and chips. I thought we could get togged up a bit, go on a—what do they call those things? Oh, yeh. A date.”

  “That sounds fun,” she said, and her expression looked to him like anticipation, mixed with a bit of nerves. A bit of adrenaline. “And if it’s going to be a while, maybe you wouldn’t mind belaying me for a few routes first. I’m off the clock now, and I haven’t had a chance to do any real climbing for days. Would you be willing?”

  She’d taught him to belay, of course, but had always kept her routes short, saying that he wasn’t paying to watch her climb. Even though he would’ve, and gladly. He realized that this might be the biggest step of all. She was trusting him with her safety, asking him for help, asking him to do something just because it would give her pleasure.

  All he said, though, was, “Course. Long as you want.”

  She started with the route he’d just done, the hardest in the gym. And went up it the same way she’d climbed the first time he’d seen her. Like a cat, so sure and so fast that he, who’d just struggled up the thing, could hardly believe it.

  “Thanks for doing that,” she said at the end of forty minutes or so, during which he’d lost count of the number of climbs she’d done. She was sweating just a bit, her cheeks pink with effort. “It was great. You’re very patient.”

  He had to smile at that. “Don’t you know how much I like watching you? Thought that would be pretty obvious by now.”

  “You do?” she asked, the flush deepening a bit more. “Even climbing?”

  “Definitely climbing,” he assured her. “It’s not just that you’re so good at it, though that’s hot too. It’s the climbing harness. How it looks. What it draws attention to. Why d’you think I was up on that thing, the first day? When I got stuck?”

  “Why?” she asked with fascination. “You mean . . . me? You weren’t just climbing that because you assumed you could do the hard stuff?”

  “That too, probably,” he admitted. “Because I was a boofhead, as I may have mentioned. But the real reason?” He looked straight at her, not smiling now. “It was you. I thought you were sexy as hell. I still do, in case you were wondering.”

  “Wow,” she said, lifting her hands to pull the elastic out of her ponytail, shaking her hair out. Which was a sexual signal if he’d ever seen one. And his own climbing harness was going to be showcasing too much itself if he kept up this line of chat. He turned away, loosened the straps and pulled it off. Looked back and saw her doing the same, but looking a bit self-conscious about it. He had a feeling that dinner with her was going to be good.

  Ally walked to Nate’s car with him, feeling as if her head were spinning. She’d hoped that today would go something like this, but now that it was happening, she was definitely nervous.

  A feeling that wasn’t helped at all at the sight of the man approaching on the busy Saturday-evening pavement. Devon.

  It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him. Wellington was too small, too centralized, too pedestrian-friendly to avoid him. All good things, except when you really didn’t want to run into somebody. She normally either pretended she didn’t see him, if that was feasible, or gave him a curt nod. While he, on the other hand, always looked perfectly comfortable at seeing her. Well, he was probably used to seeing his one-night-stands on the street. She’d bet there had been a lot of them. But seeing him when she was with Nate—

  She felt Nate stiffen beside her, and knew he’d seen Devon too. And, to her surprise, Devon didn’t look comfortable, not this time. He glanced between the two of them, his expression hardening. And Ally was glad to see it. She hoped it made him sweat, thinking about her with Nate. She looked straight back at him, sent the message as hard as she could. He’s bigger and better than you. In every . . . single . . . way. She’d bet it was true, too.

  Nate glanced down at her, but she kept walking. Speeded up, if anything. Averted her gaze now, with her best look of contempt. And walked right on by.

  Nate didn’t say anything until he’d opened the car door for her, put her bag, which he’d insisted on carrying, into the backseat with his own, and climbed in on his side. Until they were driving over the hill to Aro Valley.

  At last, though, he spoke, seeming to choose his words carefully.

  “You don’t have to ignore him for my sake,” he said. “I don’t like him, that’s no secret. But I know you do, and that you did that Heat thing with him. I can be civil if I have to be.”

  “I don’t, though,” she said emphatically. “You were right. He’s a . . . He’s not a good person.”

  He looked across at her, arrested. Then turned his attention back to his driving.

  “What did he do?” he asked, and she could see that his hands were gripping the wheel a bit too tightly. “Something with the shoot? He’s ambitious, I told you that. He’ll use people to get what he wants.”

  “Yeah,” she said bitterly. “I figured that out.”

  They were outside the block of flats now. Nate pulled into a parking spot, but didn’t move to get out of the car.

  “What happened?” he asked again, turning to her. “I should’ve told you more about what he was like. I don’t like to talk about him, but I should’ve warned you.”

  “I’m not sure I would have believed you,” she said honestly. “He comes across so well, doesn’t he? Seems so . . . interested.”

  Realization began to dawn on his face. “Ally. What did he do?”

  She shrugged, tried to pass it off. “It wasn’t any big deal. Happens to women all the time, I know. It’s just that it had never happened to me before. He acted interested, like I said. And turns out he wasn’t. I think, looking back at it, that he wanted to get some kind of introduction to Drew, once he realized who Kristen was. Or he could have even known about that before. I wouldn’t put it past him. Anyway, he tried with her, and when that didn’t work, he tried with me. And when that didn’t work . . . ”

  She sighed, not wanting to admit how stupid she’d been. Wished she didn’t have to tell him, but she’d asked him to be honest with her, hadn’t she? And that went both ways. With the way he felt about Devon, she didn’t want him to find out later and think she’d lied to him.

  “He decided he might as well get the consolation prize,” she said at last. “Because I think he was . . . mad at me about that, somehow. And he wanted to win.”

  “So he slept with you,” Nate said slowly. “Gave you the full treatment to get there, I’m sure. Made you think it
meant something. And once he got it, made it clear that he didn’t want it anymore. Went out of his way to make you feel cheap.”

  “That’s about it.” She hated that he knew this, but tried to keep her tone light. “Which should maybe make you reconsider. Could be I’m just not good in bed.”

  He didn’t answer her directly. His face, his tone were grim. “This is my fault. I should’ve told you, so you’d have been warned about what kind of scungy dickhead he is.”

  “How can it be your fault that I slept with the wrong guy?” she protested. “I’m a big girl. I made a mistake. I don’t go around sleeping with random guys, though.” She knew she shouldn’t have to defend herself, but she couldn’t bear to have him think of her that way. “I really thought he . . .”

  “You thought he was serious,” he finished for her. “Because he took care that you thought so.”

  “But how do you know?” she asked. “Is that why you don’t like him? Because you saw what he was like, when you were flatmates?”

  “Yeh, nah, not exactly,” he sighed. “That is, I saw what he was like. How he is with women, I mean. At least how he was then, and I doubt he’s changed much. I don’t think he likes women at all, really. Seems to enjoy . . . hurting them. Not physically,” he hurried to explain. “But making them fall in love, or at least sleeping with them, and then dropping them. He likes that, I think.”

  She winced a bit, hating to remember how gullible she’d been. She really had been nothing but prey. And that hurt.

  “But I let it go,” he went on. “Just like I did with you. Which is on me. I told myself it wasn’t my business, until it was.”

  She waited to hear more, though she already had a glimmer. And his next words confirmed it.

  “Because I had a girlfriend back then,” he said. “During Uni, a couple years there. I was mad for her. When I said I’d never been passionately in love . . . that was a lie. Or something I’d rather forget. And Devon . . .”