Just My Luck (Escape to New Zealand #5)

by Rosalind James

  “Are you OK with all that?” Kristen asked when they’d checked out and he’d gathered all the bags, turned for the door. “Do you want me to carry something?”

  “Think I can just about manage it,” he said seriously. Then smiled at her. “I like carrying things for you, don’t you know that? Makes me feel good.”

  “I think I have figured that out,” she said with a laugh. “You’re a pretty handy guy to have around. Somebody who wants to buy me shoes and send me flowers and carry my groceries? I think you’re pretty much my Dream Man.”

  “Good,” he said. “Let me know if I slip, because that’s exactly where I want to stay.”

  “Sorry.” He turned at the voice. A boy, six or seven, messy brown hair sticking up a bit. Standing there, shifting from foot to foot, looking anxious and excited. Liam glanced beyond him, saw the mum with her trolley at another checkout, giving him an apologetic smile.

  “Sorry,” the boy said again, earnest face raised to Liam’s. “But I wanted to tell you, you’re my favorite. Mum said I mustn’t disturb, but I wanted to say.”

  “Well, if I’m your favorite, I want to hear that, don’t I?” Liam answered. “Cheers, mate. Are you a forward, then, yourself?”

  “A hooker,” the boy said proudly. “Just like you. But it’s dead hard sometimes, isn’t it?”

  “It can be,” Liam agreed. “Something troubling you in particular?”

  “Yeh,” the boy said. “The lineout. I got two penalties last week for not throwing in straight. So I wanted to ask you, how d’you make sure?”

  “Do it over and over, till you get it right,” Liam said promptly. “Stay after if you have to, after practice. That’s what I do.”

  “You do?”

  “Course. I was having a bit of trouble with that myself, couple years ago. Spent extra time on it before every game. You practice hard enough, you’re bound to get better, eh.”

  “Thanks!” the boy said. “I’ll practice more.”

  “Cheers,” Liam said. “Go on back to your mum, now. Help her carry those bags.”

  “You were nice,” Kristen said as they walked out of the supermarket together. “You really like kids, I’ve noticed that. I think that’s great.”

  “Doesn’t exactly make me unique,” he pointed out. “Specially amongst Maori. We do tend to have some kids. Another of our many talents.”

  “But you didn’t, eh,” he went on, at the car now. He glanced at her, then opened the boot and began to set bags carefully inside. “When you were married. Was that your choice?”

  He waited for the answer, knowing how much it mattered to him. He thought he knew, but it was better to be sure.

  “I didn’t at first,” she said soberly, leaning against the boot after he’d closed it. “When I was younger. I didn’t know that much about being a mother. Not about doing it right, anyway. But then, thinking about Hannah, I realized I did know. I knew how she loved me, how she tried to help me, growing up. And I saw how good a job she did with Jack, and I thought, maybe I could do that too. Maybe I could, if I tried hard. And I would try hard. I’d try so hard.”

  “I’d know how to love my child, anyway,” she said, suddenly sounding fierce, totally unlike Kristen. “I’d know how to put my kids’ needs above my own. I’d know how to protect my kids. I’d know how to do that, and I would. I would.”

  “Course you would,” he said. “I’d say you know how to love pretty well, from what I’ve seen. Real love, where you care more about the other person than yourself. I’d say you know all about that.”

  “So it wasn’t you,” he prompted gently when she remained silent, looking off into the distance. Not moving from her spot, leaning against the boot. Hell of a place for this, but he’d take it. “But still, no kids.”

  “No,” she sighed, looking back at him again. “That was him. Marshall.”

  “What kind of man doesn’t want kids?” he wondered.

  “That kind, I guess,” she shrugged. “He said . . .” She stopped. “You don’t want to know this. It’s embarrassing.” She pushed herself off the car, turned away. “We should go.”

  “Kristen. Wait,” he said, feeling the urgency of it. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I’d like to know.”

  She turned back again, looked down. Ran the strap of her purse nervously through her hands as she spoke, still not meeting his eyes.

  “It was that . . .” she began. “That, you know, that pregnant women were . . . gross. And afterwards, stretch marks. What happens to your . . . your breasts. And breastfeeding. He said,” and she was crimson now, but plowed on regardless. “That those were his. And he wasn’t sharing.”

  Liam could feel his body tightening with anger on her behalf, with outrage that any man could feel that way. That a man would say something like that to his wife, to the woman he’d promised to love and cherish, the woman he was meant to protect.

  He forced himself to relax. Took a breath, so this wouldn’t come out wrong. This was his chance, and he was taking it.

  “Can’t imagine that,” he told her after a moment, when he was sure he could say it calmly. “Because a pregnant woman is beautiful. And a woman feeding a baby . . . all that. There’s nothing a man should want to see more than that. I don’t want to get too graphic here, but when a man’s with his pregnant partner, what’s he seeing? What’s he showing everyone else? That that’s his baby. That he did that. And same when she’s feeding that baby.”

  “Not saying that’s sexual,” he went on hurriedly at her quick glance, “but, yeh. It is, a bit, all of it. Her belly, her breasts. If it’s the woman you love, it is. Because all of that, it’s the ultimate connection. It’s a man’s immortality, the only kind there really is. And a woman’s the way you achieve it. The mother of your children . . . She’s special, eh. She’s beautiful.”

  “I can’t say this the way I’d like to,” he apologized. “Wish I could be more poetic about it. All I can tell you is, I know that’s how I’d feel. And I can’t speak for Pakeha, but that’s how most Maori men would feel too.”

  “So it could be,” he said, trying a smile on her, wanting to see her smile back at him, wanting her to know this one thing for sure, “that you’ve just been in the wrong country. And with the wrong man.”

  “Well, I know that,” she said, and she was smiling. And she was beautiful. Shining for him, and his heart turned over. “The wrong man, I’ve known that for a long time. And the wrong country . . . I’ve been thinking that too, lately.”

  He shifted a little, cleared his throat. “How much longer on the celibacy, again?” he asked a bit plaintively, surprising a laugh from her.

  “Five weeks,” she said. “But I think we could . . . start. What do you think? Start slow? Would you be willing to do that?”

  “Yeh.” He could feel himself smiling back at her. “I think we could start slow. Slow as you like. Because I’ve been thinking,” he said, even as he felt the desire, so long controlled, rising within him, a swift tide, “that slow is how I want to be with you anyway. I’m going to be taking my time every step of the way. Starting right now.”

  He reached for her, right there in the New World carpark. Put one hand on the side of her face, his other at her side, and gently brushed his lips over hers. Felt her mouth opening under his, her body swaying towards him. Her own hands coming up to hold his shoulders as if they belonged there.

  And he knew, as he continued to kiss her, to hold her, that he’d been right all along. She was his treasure. And he was her man.

  Reaching New Heights

  “Ally. Look.”

  She heard Robbo’s exclamation and looked up fast from the front desk, where she was checking in two new customers. Stared with surprise herself, and then found herself ridiculously pleased.

  The couple opposite her turned to see what she was looking at. “That’s Koti James,” the woman said, her voice a little dreamy. “And Nic Wilkinson.”

  “And Liam Maha
ka,” the man added. “Wonder what they’re doing here, with the game tonight. Don’t they have training or something?”

  “I don’t care what they’re doing here,” the woman declared. “All I know is, if they’re climbing, I’m going to take care to be next to them. Pity they brought their partners. I’ll just have to ignore them.”

  Her own partner looked a little affronted, and Ally couldn’t help smiling. Although her own photo had been in the paper with Nate more than once now, few of the gym’s clientele had made the connection, and she’d been glad to be anonymous.

  Not quite so anonymous anymore, though, because the couple were stepping aside as the group made their way across the busy gym to the desk, creating a stir amongst the Saturday-morning climbers.

  “Hi,” Kristen told her happily. “Liam thought the guys needed an outing.”

  “Bit of stretching,” Liam said easily. “And I want to show these lazy buggers what a forward can do.”

  “Watch and learn, boys,” he announced to some good-natured scoffing. “Watch and learn from the master.”

  Kristen hastened to make introductions, and Ally got the group checked in.

  “Zack wants to climb too,” Emma told her. “Do you have kids’ harnesses, though?” She looked around. No other kids here, as usual. Ally had made no headway at all there, no surprise.

  “We do,” Ally assured her.

  “Climbing’s super fun,” she told the seven-year-old, who bore a startling resemblance to his handsome father. “And sometimes,” she added with a special smile, “kids are better than their parents at it. What do you think?”

  “Sweet as,” he said happily, making her laugh.

  “Guess I’m watching,” Kate sighed as Ally began to get the group set up with harnesses.

  “I’ve got a maternity harness,” Ally told her, “if you want to try. One of our regulars donated it after she had her baby.” She’d tried to get Mac to buy more, with no luck at all.

  “Is it safe?” her husband asked. “For her, and the baby?”

  He was even better-looking up close, Ally couldn’t help but notice. She sneaked a quick peek at the famous Maori tattoo, at least the part that was visible beneath the T-shirt sleeve he’d revealed when he pulled off his hoodie, and decided that Koti’s might look even better than Liam’s. Although Liam’s had to be bigger to cover all that muscle. She wouldn’t mind a bit of up-close comparison shopping. Maybe she could suggest that the guys climb with their shirts off. No, probably not. Sadly.

  “As long as you pay attention while you belay her,” she said, recalling herself. “There’s no impact, and the harness goes around her belly, actually supports it. And you’ll be holding the rope tight, right?”

  “No worries,” he said. “I’ll be holding the rope tight.”

  One thing about teaching rugby players to climb, Ally thought, working with Robbo to take each pair through the usual routine on the training wall, they caught on fast. And Zack was a natural, scrambling up like a monkey. He’d clearly inherited some athletic ability too.

  “Sorry we couldn’t get Toro here,” Liam told Ally when the group had finished their practice climbs and dispersed around the gym.

  Ally glanced at him, then turned back to check on Kate. Koti was keeping the rope taut, she saw, and Kate was doing a good job too.

  “He probably had things to do,” she said, trying her best to overcome her disappointment.

  “What he said,” Liam agreed. “A good distraction, we thought, but I’ve never succeeded yet in convincing Toro of the value of being distracted.” He smiled at her again, then went over to join Kristen at the wall.

  They were both doing really well, Ally thought, watching as Liam clipped in and began to belay Kristen. She might have taught Kristen initially, but her friend had gained confidence, the only thing she’d really lacked, in leaps and bounds since starting to climb with Liam.

  By the time the group had been there half an hour, Mac was hurrying through the door, much earlier than usual for a Saturday.

  “Is that a coincidence?” Ally asked Robbo.

  “No,” he said with a grin. “I rang him. Picture the scene if I hadn’t. I’d have got the sack. Not you, of course, because it’s pretty clear why they’re all in here.”

  They didn’t stay much longer, though. The gym had started filling up fast after their arrival, which Ally could easily trace to the many thumbs flying over cell phone keys. After an hour, they were wrapping it up.

  “Well, that was fun,” Kate told Ally happily when they were shedding harnesses again. “Not that hauling my belly up a wall is any easier than hauling it around in general, but it was a good challenge.”

  “I’ve had a lot of pregnant clients say that,” Ally agreed. “A good stretch for you guys too?” she asked Koti.

  “Yeh,” he said, flashing a fairly potent smile. “Though I got a bit nervous, worrying that Kate was going to drop me. Or leave me up there.”

  “You did not,” Kate protested as the others laughed. “I’d only do that if you made me mad, and you haven’t done that for at least a week. And even if you had, I want to watch you play tonight, so I had to let you down, didn’t I?”

  “Are you coming, Ally?” she asked her.

  “Yes,” Ally said, feeling unusually shy, but pleased to be included. “Kristen and I’ll both be there.”

  “Great,” Kate said with satisfaction. “We can have a snark-fest.” Which made Ally laugh again.

  “Did you see me?” Zack asked Ally, bouncing on his toes, brown eyes alight. “Did you see me on the big wall? I did more than Mum!”

  “I did,” she smiled at him. “You did awesome. High five.” She put her palm up, and he smacked it happily.

  “Got to get back to the hotel now, though,” Liam said. “Lunch with the squad, and then another wee item to take care of today. But this was good. Thanks.”

  Mac had been low-key, to Ally’s relief, but now he inserted himself to ask, “Could we do a quick photo before you go? That’d be one for the notice board.”

  “Course, long as you don’t use it in any adverts,” Nic said. “Unless you want Koti’s shark of a manager let loose on you, and trust me, nobody wants that. Bloody nightmare.”

  When the little group had bunched up against a climbing wall for the photo, though, Liam called to Ally.

  “Toro may not be here,” he said, “but you ought to be. Come on over.”

  He slung a big arm around her, pulled her next to Kristen. “Good to go,” he told Mac, and the photo was taken.

  “Tell him he missed out,” Ally said to Liam.

  “I will,” he promised. “I tell him all the time, though he never listens.”

  “The bull,” she said.

  “Yeh. The original bull.”

  “So there you go,” Ally told Nate two days later. “Mac’s got a big, wonderful picture for his notice board. The All Blacks at the climbing gym. He about wet himself, he was so excited. And you know what’s really aggravating?”

  “No, what?” Nate asked, trying to hide a smile. He did like Ally a bit stirred up. Eyes snapping, head tossing. All that fire and passion, all for him.

  “He took my picture climbing too,” Ally said with disgust. “And put it on the board with the other one. Women climbers aren’t interesting. But women climbers who are sleeping with the All Blacks? Now that’s advertising.”

  “Mmm,” Nate agreed. “Though I have to say, those are my favorite women climbers too. Specially the ones who sleep with the skipper.”

  “Huh,” she snorted.

  “Text me that photo, though,” he went on more seriously. “I want that for my phone.”

  “What, the one of the guys?”

  “Nah. I don’t need to see Koti’s ugly face. The one of you. I want that one.” Ally climbing. Yeh, he’d like to look at that. Right along with the photo of her smiling face, the one he’d taken in the café that first weekend. The one he looked at every night he was away from he
r, before he went to sleep. The one of her looking so happy, so alive. Looking like Ally.

  “And I’m sorry I couldn’t be there myself,” he went on, “but I have to focus, the day of a game.” He’d felt bad about it, especially after he’d got her text, breezy as always, but sounding a bit hurt too. And had got Mako’s blunt assessment of the situation as well, back in the room. But it was the truth all the same. He’d focused, and the focus had paid off, hadn’t it? This was his job. This was his life.

  “No worries,” she said saucily, getting up from the table with what he could only describe as a flounce. “I’ve decided I don’t want you anymore. I’m going for Koti James.”

  He laughed, pulled her into his lap, and focused on today’s job. Giving all his attention, as always, to the task at hand.

  “Think Kate might have a word or two to say about that,” he said when he’d come up for air, had her lying back against his arm, looking well and truly kissed.

  “Mmm,” she agreed dreamily. “I don’t think she shares. Just like me.”

  She wasn’t happy, though, a half hour later.

  “What does he know?” she exploded, startling him from the editorial in the Listener that had captured his attention.

  “What?” he asked. She was sitting bolt upright on the couch, smoke all but coming out of her ears.

  “This guy,” she said with an angry gesture at the computer in her lap. “John Farrell. He’s used his whole column today to talk about you!”

  “Ah. Not impressed, I take it.”

  “Questioning your leadership,” she spluttered. “Saying you guys can’t win. What does he know? And anyway, you did win the series, so how can he say this stuff? You lost one game!”

  He reached out and took his laptop from her, snapped it firmly shut and set it on the table next to him. “Thought you were checking your email. You just lost your computer privileges.”

  “I can’t help it,” she muttered. “Sue me. I looked.”