Just Not Mine (Escape to New Zealand)

by Rosalind James

  “If you’d won me,” she told him, her voice low and full of promise, pulling his shirt off and tossing it to the floor, running greedy hands over his broad chest, the bunched muscle of his shoulders, “I know one thing I’d have had to do for you. And if I’m yours, I need to do it now.”

  Her hands were at his belt, and Dr. Eva had never worked a strip of leather through a buckle with any more intent, any more slow, seductive purpose than Josie used on Hugh right now. She got it unfastened, held the little tab of his zip between thumb and forefinger, and slowly lowered it, then looked into his eyes and smiled, stepped back, and carefully removed one high heel, then the other.

  “Don’t want you to take them off,” he said, and she could see from the rising and falling of his chest how far he’d come already. She might be his, but he was hers, too, every hard centimeter of him.

  “I can’t be on my knees, though, in those,” she told him softly. She got her hands under the waistband of his briefs and paused a moment. “And you want me on my knees, don’t you? Wouldn’t that be one of the requirements?”

  “Yeh,” he groaned. “That’s one.”

  “Then I’d better obey, hadn’t I? Because,” she said with another lick at his neck, “who knows what you’d have done to me if I hadn’t.”

  “Uhh …” he sighed, because she’d eased the briefs, his dark trousers over his lean hips, had brought them to the floor along with her, and she was kneeling in front of him, taking off his shoes and socks, then settling herself in front of him, holding the length of him in one hand.

  “This is what I’d have done,” she told him,” if you’d won me. I’d have showed you what that meant. How glad I was that I belonged to you.”

  His hands were fisting in her hair, and that was a yes, so she leaned down, gave him a long, slow lick, felt his grip tightening. She took her time, and she wasn’t the one moaning now. She knew exactly how to do this, and she was making the effort to do it absolutely right, and he was loving it.

  “You need …” he got out when she’d wound him up almost to breaking point, “you need to stop now.”

  She sat back, looked up at him, kept her hand going, felt how close he was, because if she had a talent for reading body language, this was her ultimate gift.

  “You sure?” she asked. “Because …” She stroked him again. “There’s more I’m willing to do. I’m willing to do it all.”

  “Aw …” He groaned. “Get the condom out of my pocket and put it on.”

  She did it, and he dropped to his own knees, reached for her. “I want it all,” he told her. “And I’m going to take it tonight. So turn around,” he whispered in her ear, his hands going for the hooks at her bra, taking it off at last, tossing it aside. “I’ve got some straps to look at.”

  He looked at the straps, and by the time he’d finished, she’d come a couple more times, just as he’d promised, and her delicate stockings were a thing of the past. He undid the bow tying the suspender belt together, then, pulled everything off her, and took her into the shower.

  They used the shower, and they used the bedroom wall, and, finally, they used the bed. And he got it all.

  “I should have guessed,” she sighed when her head was pillowed on his chest, his hand moving over her hair, and she was so sleepy and sated that she felt drugged, “that you had a Maori thing.”

  “I don’t have a Maori thing,” he said, and she felt the rumbling vibration of his voice from deep inside his chest. “I’ve never had a Maori thing. I have a Josie Pae Ata thing.”

  Not Boiling the Bunny

  He woke slowly, looked at the plain expanse of white ceiling overhead, and was disoriented for a moment. And then he remembered. Josie.

  Who wasn’t in bed with him anymore. He rolled out of bed, moving a little fast, and stopped at the door to the lounge. There she was, of course. In one of the hotel’s white dressing gowns, legs curled beneath her on the couch as she gazed out at the street scene far below. Her hair was knotted tidily at the back of her head, she had a cup of tea in her hand, and he took a breath.

  She looked up at him and smiled. “Hey, good-looking.”

  “Hey yourself. I thought for a second …” He ran a hand over his jaw and laughed. “That you were gone. Stupid.”

  “Can’t sleep past seven, that’s all. No matter what’s happened in the night.” She was still smiling, and now she got gracefully to her feet, went across to the kitchen. “Want a cup of tea?”

  “Yeh. Sure.” He looked down at himself, had to laugh a bit about that too. “Maybe I should put some clothes on for it, what d’you reckon?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Seeing as how I don’t have any undies to wear myself, or any stockings either, since somebody destroyed all of them. I’m going home with about half the clothes I started with.”

  “Dangers of getting carried away in the middle of the date, I guess,” he said. “But if you’re going to turn me on that much, you may just have to put up with having your undies ripped off you.”

  That made her pause in the middle of her tea-making, he saw with satisfaction. “It was a good thing I had a few emergency supplies in my bag,” she said after a moment. “No extra undies, alas. If I’m going to have a Demon Lover, I can see I’m going to need to be better prepared. Want a disposable toothbrush, though?”

  “If you’ve got one.” She was making him smile again.

  “Here.” She picked her bag up from the kitchen bench, pulled out a tiny little thing. “So we can actually kiss each other good morning without worrying we’ll put the other off for good.”

  “Cheers.” He took it from her, along with the cup of tea, and headed for the bathroom, and his shower.

  Mornings-after could be awkward. He should have guessed, though, that they wouldn’t be awkward with Josie.

  “Christmas coming up,” he told her when he’d taken her out to breakfast and was watching her keep herself to two eggs, a coffee, and not a thing more.

  “What alerted you?” she asked with a little smile. “The giant reindeer head on the corner of Whitcoull’s?”

  “Yeh, that helped. I wondered what you’re doing, that’s all.”

  “Two more days of work, then ten days off,” she said. “And back shortly after the New Year.”

  “That’s all?”

  “We get a proper break at the end of the season,” she explained. “But meanwhile, the public wants its entertainment. I’m going home, of course, for a few days. What about you? What will you and the kids be doing? Got to be a bit rough for them, only the second one.”

  “Yeh, I’m thinking that too. Last year, Aunt Cora was here, and I was still in the process of moving. I spent the day with my mum, came up on Boxing Day, and they’d had their dinner and all. But it’s up to me this time, I guess.”

  He should have discussed it sooner with Aunt Cora, in time to do something about it. Got a bach somewhere, maybe, gone to the beach. But as usual, it hadn’t occurred to him. They’d talked about the kids’ school holidays, and Aunt Cora had signed them up for a couple camps, had told him she’d take care of their shopping for the new term, which was something Hugh hadn’t even thought of. But nothing about the holiday itself, and he should have asked her. She’d probably assumed that he’d know how to do it, but he didn’t.

  “And? What have you done?” Josie asked.

  “Uh—not much, would be the answer. That’s why I brought it up.”

  “Not going anywhere?”

  “No plans. I should have made some, I see that. I was thinking it was all sorted, with Aunt Cora due back, and that I was managing pretty well.”

  “She quite happy to come back, then? Is it not working out with her fella?”

  “Yeh, nah, sounds like it is, actually. He’s coming out to visit again as soon as he can take another holiday. A few months, she said. They’ve even looked into the possibility of him buying a shop here, and she’s excited about that, so I’d say it’s all going along swimmingly. And that�
�s all good, and I’m happy for her, but meanwhile … there’s this day. Christmas. I missed that I should be planning something for that, something special. What should I be planning, though? I’m not sure I could manage Christmas dinner, no matter how hard I tried. I’ve barely got past pizza and shepherd’s pie, you know that. The ham would probably be beyond me, much less the pavlova. And … the day.”

  “Uh-huh. Did you do gifts yet?”

  “Not much,” he admitted. “Aunt Cora did send some, but I wasn’t sure what to buy. Ordered a couple books, but that’s about it.”

  “Want to do some shopping with me, then?” she asked. “Maybe I could help, and I still have a few things to get myself. We could go tomorrow, if you like.”

  “That’d be awesome,” he said with relief. “And if you’d give me some ideas on the day, too. How to do the dinner at my skill level. How to make it … all right.”

  “I’ll have a think. One idea—you could do a beach day. Start your own tradition with the kids, as long as you make it special. Take them fishing, have a barbecue. Or,” she said, and he could see her hesitate, “you could do something completely different. You could take them to my family, if you liked, come along with me.”

  “That would be quite the unexpected descent on your mum and dad,” he said, and that was the least of it.

  She waved a hand. “Doesn’t matter. They won’t mind, I’ll tell you that. We’ll put the three of you in the caravan outside, and three more for my mum to cook for? She’ll hardly notice.”

  “I wouldn’t be sharing your bed, eh. That’s pretty disappointing.”

  She smiled. “Not happening, sorry. You haven’t met my dad. But it’d be good fun, just like you told me when you took me along to your picnic. And,” she said, her gaze steady, “no pressure. You wouldn’t be making a statement, to my family, to me, to anybody, any more than I did by coming with you then, and I wouldn’t be making a statement to you. Just taking some friends home with me for Christmas, because one of them’s a fairly clueless fella who didn’t make any plans.”

  He wondered if he should say that he wouldn’t mind the statement, but that might fall into the category of bunny-boiling after exactly two—dates, so he didn’t. “Sounds perfect,” he said instead. “Getting away on the day, doing something different—that may be best anyway, eh. Not trying to do the Christmas they’ve had, and not having it work out.”

  “You’re right,” she said.

  “Then, if you’re sure it’ll be all right,” he said, “I’ll say yes. For all of us. Christmas in the caravan with Josie.”

  “Christmas in the caravan without Josie,” she reminded him. “My dad, remember?”

  “All of a sudden,” he said, “the hair on the back of my neck is rising. I can almost feel that patu coming down on my skull.”

  “No worries,” she said. “I have a feeling you’ll do just fine.”

  Complications

  “Tuck. Bee tuck.”

  “That’s right,” Josie said as she helped Zavy pull the rest of the wrapping paper away. “It’s a very big truck.”

  It was a log truck carved out of wood, and the logs came off, which Zavy was discovering right now. As Christmas presents went, it looked like being pretty successful, because Zavy had gone to collect his round plastic people now, and it looked like they were going to be taking a very unsafe ride in the back of a log truck.

  “You off to your mum and dad’s tomorrow?” Josie asked Chloe, settling back on the carpet against the base of the couch and taking a sip of her Officially-on-Holiday glass of wine.

  “Yeh,” Chloe said with satisfaction. “No tact, no scheduling, and no patience required for two long weeks. Well, except with my mum. But I’m getting around that by only staying with them for a few days. I wish she’d child-proof. She keeps saying that she didn’t do it with me, and how I was quite happy to sit and play in one spot without touching anything I shouldn’t. I don’t remember, but it’s hard to believe.”

  “Mmm,” Josie agreed.

  “Even if it were actually true,” Chloe said, “it’s not true for Zavy, that’s for sure. And following after him to keep his fingers out of the sockets and off the breakables wears me thin. So, short visit, then back here for some Mum Time. And an early bedtime, too. Funny how you grow up wishing you could stay up past ten, and then, once you have kids, heaven is lying in bed with a book at eight-thirty.”

  She stopped herself. “Sorry. I keep forgetting.”

  “Nah,” Josie said, even though it hurt. Of course it hurt. “It’s your life. You get to talk to me about your life. You let me talk to you about mine.”

  “Yours is a bit more exciting at the moment, though,” Chloe said. “Except that I’ve got news myself on that score. You may just get some competition in the Rugby Dating Stakes.”

  “Really.” Josie sat up a little straighter. “Tell. Who?”

  “I got a call the other week from Reka Ranapia, asking me about classes for her daughter in Mt. Maunganui, about whether I could recommend anybody, what she should look for. And she came and took me to lunch, Zavy too, to chat about it. Quite nice, I thought.”

  “And she wants to be your girlfriend?” Josie asked. “That is exciting news. You are getting around.”

  Chloe laughed. “I’m not that adventurous, though I’ll admit, it has its appeal. At least I understand women. Pity I’m not attracted to them. But she brought attractive company. Will Tawera, the latest victim of your deadly charms, and I can only imagine how many viewers that’s going to get tuning in, because he’s quite the looker, isn’t he? She said it was because he was new in town, getting situated, but I can’t think he has a burning desire to become acquainted with dance studios.”

  “But maybe with the owners of dance studios?”

  “Yeh,” Chloe said with satisfaction. “A setup, I’d say. He asked me for my number, at any rate.”

  “Good-looking,” Josie agreed. “A bit of a handful, though, you ask me.”

  “I’m not going to marry the bloke,” Chloe said. “Just brush up on my dating skills, because my sadly tame outing with Hugh told me it was time to get out there again, especially if there’s a hot rugby boy on offer. I could stand to have some sex, and as I nobly restrained myself from having it with your man, I need to find one of my own. I’m not eager to take a walk down the aisle, or even get close, but I’m guessing that he could show me a good time. What do you think? Think I can juggle one more rather large priority?”

  “With everything else you’re juggling,” Josie said, “I guess I’d either say, of course you can, or, don’t get your life too complicated. Which is it?”

  “I don’t know,” Chloe admitted. “I guess I’ll find out. A chance to get pretty, anyway, have somebody else buy me dinner, and maybe a little more. No reason I have to get involved.”

  “Famous last words,” Josie warned.

  “Look who’s talking. I’m not the one taking a man to bed, then taking him home to my parents a week later. I thought you were going slowly, because of the neighbor thing.”

  “I thought so too,” Josie admitted. “Somehow, though, it just … slipped out, and before I knew it, I’d invited him. But it’s casual.”

  “Uh-huh. Right. Casual. Does he know about the—” Chloe gestured at Josie’s midsection.

  “No. Of course not. Way too early to talk about that. He’d be running in the opposite direction for sure then, wouldn’t he, if I started talking about the kids we could or couldn’t have together.”

  “When would you do it, then?” Chloe pressed.

  “I don’t know,” Josie said, heard the irritation in her voice. “Sorry. It’s just … I don’t know. This is my first time dealing with it, remember? Not after one date, I’m sure of that.”

  “Spending Christmas together may qualify, though,” Chloe said.

  “I told you. It’s not like that.”

  “It’s not? Really?”

  “No. It’s just … they’re alone,
and those kids need something more than a day mooching around the house with a brother who doesn’t know what to do with them. They need dinner, and family.”

  “They need your family?” Chloe asked, and her voice was gentle now.

  “I—” Josie stopped. “Yeh. They do. But that’s a separate thing from Hugh and me.”

  “I’d think that’d be pretty hard to separate.”

  “Complicated,” Josie agreed with a sigh. “Like you say. But all I can do is see what happens. Go slow.”

  “The way you’ve been going so far. Uh-huh.”

  “Oi. We have gone slow.”

  “You may have started slow,” Chloe said. “But I’d say you’re on the express now.”

  “Do your mum and dad have animals at their house, Josie?” Charlie asked from the back seat of Hugh’s car the next morning. His, because it had room enough for four. She’d had to remind herself, climbing in, that she wasn’t taking her family to her parents’ for Christmas. She was taking Hugh’s family to her parents’ for Christmas, and Chloe had been right, there was a big, big difference that her heart seemed to be having trouble accepting.

  “Not many. Just chooks,” Josie said. “Not that kind of farm, I’m afraid. More about the fruit and vegies.”

  “Oh.” He sounded disappointed. “I was hoping pigs, like Babe.”

  “Our neighbors have pigs,” she said, “if you’d like to visit. Not quite like Babe, heaps bigger and stinkier, I’m afraid, not nice clean little pink piglets, but they quite like to have their backs scratched, and they’re quite clever, too, pigs. Horses as well,” she said, twisting around to look at Amelia. “Would you like to try riding a horse, or have you tried already?”

  “D’you really think I could?” Amelia sounded more excited than she’d seemed about the excursion up to now. A bit of nerves, Josie thought. Well, her mum would soon put that right. No kid could be uncomfortable for long with her mum around.