by Nicola Marsh
His face fell. ‘I thought... Well, I hoped you might want to explore...a...relationship—’
‘On your terms?’
Pain lanced her resolve, making her waver. Was she being too harsh? Was she annihilating any chance of a possible future of happiness?
She shook her head. ‘If you’re so keen to explore what we have, why don’t you stick around? Stop running? Commit to something for once in your life?’
A flash of anger sparked his eyes. ‘I’ve committed my life to being the best in the water—’
‘Yeah, but what about out of it? What about your family? You can’t bear to spend longer than a few days with them once a year. How the hell do you expect to maintain a relationship?’
She knew what she was doing: deliberately sabotaging his attempt at a relationship. Fear clogged her throat at the thought of continuing what they had, growing closer, only to discover he hadn’t really changed after all and she’d end up pining and waiting for someone she couldn’t rely on. Been there, done that, still waiting for her dad to bring her the T-shirt as a present.
She might have foolishly wished for a happily-ever-after with Archer this past week, but at the time she’d recognised her pie-in-the-sky dream for being just that. That was why she’d indulged in another week-long fling, confident of the end date.
She’d never take the risk of a full-blown relationship knowing she was opening herself up to further heartbreak.
‘Just go.’
She expected him to run as he always did. The fact that he was still standing there, a vein pulsing in his neck, shoulders rigid, only served to rile her further.
What was he waiting for?
‘I’m not the one running scared this time, Callie. You are.’
Sadness seeped through her, making her want to curl up in a corner and sleep for a century. ‘Shows how well you know me. I’m not running anywhere. I can’t.’ She jerked her head towards Nora. ‘And the fact you’d give me an air ticket expecting I’d follow you on a whim proves it.’
Tears prickled at the backs of her eyes. She had to drive him away before she collapsed in a wailing heap in his arms.
‘You don’t know me and you never will.’
When he didn’t flinch, didn’t move, her mum called out, ‘You should go, dear.’
Callie did the only thing possible.
She fled.
CHAPTER TWELVE
FOR the second time today Archer wanted to punch something.
Frustration made his head ache as he watched Callie run away from him.
Again.
He should follow her, try to make her understand... His gaze landed on the crumpled plane ticket at his feet and his resolve hardened.
He’d wanted to explore the spark they shared. She’d rejected him.
Best to walk away and not look back.
‘Archer? Could you please come in here a minute?’
Great, just what he needed. For her mum to berate him for messing up her daughter’s life.
He snatched the ticket off the floor, jammed it into his pocket and entered the room.
‘I have a plane to catch—’
‘“Later” is what you said.’
The woman before him might have a terminal disease which left her stoop-shouldered and shaky and fragile, but the determination in her intelligent eyes was pure Callie.
He sat on the footstool opposite her wheelchair. ‘I’m not comfortable discussing my relationship with Callie.’
‘From what I overheard, seems like you’re not comfortable with a relationship period.’
‘Harsh.’
Nora’s eyebrow rose. ‘But true?’
When he opened his mouth to protest, she held up a trembling hand.
‘This is none of my business, but if you want a chance with my daughter I recommend you listen.’
He remained mute.
‘Good. You want to know why Calista refused your offer?’
He nodded.
‘She’s scared.’
‘Of?’
‘It’s not my place to tell you, but I think you need to ask her if you want a future together.’
He let out a breath he’d been unaware he was holding, his fingers relaxing from where they’d dug into the footstool’s leather.
Damn right he’d ask her. If Callie’s mum thought he still had a chance, no way would he waste it.
‘You might be interested to know that when Calista returned from Europe she was glowing. She had a bounce in her step, she smiled constantly, and she hummed Spanish tunes under her breath. Then I was diagnosed and her exuberance faded.’ Tears glittered in her eyes. ‘I hate this disease for doing that to my beautiful Callie.’
Archer didn’t handle emotion well, tears least of all, and he sat there like an idiot, searching for the right thing to say and coming up empty.
‘Interestingly, when Calista came to see me last week, before her trip away with you, she had some of that old spark back. Which leads me to believe you were more responsible for her post-Europe glow than geography.’
If acknowledging emotions wasn’t his forte, discussing them sent him into full-blown panic.
‘We shared something special.’
The simple truth, and the right thing to say by Nora’s nod of approval.
‘My advice? If you want to share that same spark again, don’t give up. Go after her. Convince her how you feel. Make her trust you. Trust is everything to my little girl.’
He knew the feeling.
To his surprise, a lump wedged in his throat, and no matter how many times he swallowed he couldn’t dislodge it.
‘As for her fear of leaving me in case I die—don’t worry. I’ll fix that.’ Nora’s smile turned wicked. ‘If she doesn’t spend some of her time on the road with you I’ll threaten to live out my time in the smelly nursing home up the road—the one with roaches the size of rodents—and donate the exorbitant fees she pays for me to stay here to the lost dogs’ home.’
The lump of emotion in his throat eased, and his admiration for this feisty woman skyrocketed. ‘I’m glad you’re on my side.’
She pointed a bony finger at him. ‘I’m only on your side because I can see you’re head over heels in love with my daughter. Hurt her—you die.’
He laughed. ‘Got the message, loud and clear.’ He stood and ducked down to kiss her cheek. ‘Thanks.’
A faint pink stained her cheeks. ‘I may not be around much longer, but while I’m here I’m going to be the best damned mother-in-law you could ever wish for.’
It took him a good sixty seconds to process what she’d said, and by then he’d reached his car.
Him? Head over heels in love? What were the chances?
As for a mother-in-law...that involved marriage...
By the time he’d hit Alexander Parade some of the initial shock had worn off and he found himself heading for Johnston Street.
He needed answers.
Only one woman could provide them.
* * *
Callie texted her mum an apology as soon as she pulled into a parking spot at home.
She’d cooled off by the time she’d walked through to the foyer, and had headed back to Nora’s room. But when she’d got there she’d seen Archer in the room. It had looked as if her mum was telling him off so she’d left. She hoped Nora had flayed him alive.
The guy didn’t have a clue, thinking she could traipse around the world while Nora was stuck in that home dying.
Selfish. Unthinking. Male.
She thumped the steering wheel. It did little for the resentment simmering like a dormant volcano. She wasn’t footloose like him. She couldn’t jump on a plane whenever he snapped his fingers. She wasn’t impulsive and selfish. She wasn’t her father.
But as her anger faded a sliver of clarity glimmered through. Maybe she was looking at this all wrong. Archer had walked away from her once without looking back. This time he wanted to continue seeing her, to explore a relationship. A
nd, while she didn’t want to risk her heart again, she’d been harsh. She’d said some pretty nasty stuff at the end, accusing him of being a shallow, emotionless commitment-phobe.
And what had he done? Gone and copped more from her mum. Not many guys would do that. The Archer she’d once known would have headed to the airport without hesitation.
But this older, more mature Archer wasn’t the same guy he’d once been. He was wiser, more responsive, more willing to see past the end of his surfboard.
And the thing was, if a guy like him had taken a monumental risk in tracking her down to lay his heart on the line should she consider taking a risk too?
Was her lack of trust worth a life of misery in losing the love of her life?
She rested her hands on the steering wheel and her head fell forward, her eyes closed.
She couldn’t leave Nora, that was a given, but maybe she could compromise in some way? She wouldn’t expect him to wait for her, but the thought of having Archer in her life—to support her, to care for her when the dreaded inevitable happened with her mum—was pretty darn appealing.
She knocked her head repeatedly against her forearms.
Yep, she’d been a fool.
The rev of an engine penetrated her misery, punctuated by three short blasts on a familiar horn. She lifted her head, daring to hope, just in time to see Archer kill the engine of the red Roadster, unclip his seatbelt and vault over the door.
He strode towards her, determination lengthening his strides, and she got out of the car, waiting for him to reach her.
‘We’re going for a ride and I want you to promise me you won’t speak the whole way.’ He snagged her hand and tugged.
She resisted. No use giving in too easily. ‘As an apology, that sucked.’
She bit back a grin at his comical disbelief.
‘Me owe you an apology?’ He shook his head. ‘Not. Another. Word.’
This time she let him lead her towards the Roadster, open the door and buckle her in. His familiar fresh air and sunshine scent wrapped around her like a comforting hug.
She gritted her teeth to stop herself from nuzzling his neck, and curled her fingers into her palm to stop herself reaching for him.
He took a deliberately long time, taunting her, and she almost capitulated. Almost. He straightened, his grin smug, and she wanted to smack that smugness off his face.
As they wound through the heavy Christmas Day traffic she snuck glances at him, her heart giving an extra kick when they locked stares for a long, loaded moment at some traffic lights.
All her mental pep talks to get over him, all her determination to move on, vanished in that one look. The sizzle of heat was invisible yet unmistakable.
She’d never been more thankful when the lights turned green.
Ten minutes later he’d pulled into a rare parking spot in Lygon Street and his intention hit her.
He’d brought her to Melbourne’s Little Italy. Was he aiming to soften her up by resurrecting memories of Capri?
They were so past Capri it wasn’t funny, and she fully intended to tell him so. But the hint of vulnerability in his questioning gaze caught her completely off guard and she bit back a smartass remark.
She saved it for when they were seated in a tiny trattoria so reminiscent of their favourite place in Capri she half expected Luigi, the owner, to come strutting out to welcome them.
‘Can I talk yet—?’
‘No.’ He made a zipping motion over his lips and proceeded to order: linguine marinara, fresh bread, Chianti.
Their meal.
Yep, he was trying to schmooze his way into getting her to change her mind. As if a fabulous Italian meal would do that.
She had obligations.
She had responsibilities.
He snuck his fingers across the table, snagged her hand, lifted it to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
She had it bad.
He released her hand and she reluctantly, perversely, snatched it away.
‘You can talk soon, but only after you listen first.’ She rolled her eyes and he chuckled. ‘I had a plan. Wake up next to you Christmas morning, make all your Christmases come at once—’ she winced at his corny pun ‘—and then tell you how I feel.’
Her pulse stuttered, before pounding like a jackhammer.
‘But you robbed me of that opportunity and I wanted to run. I was all set to head to the airport early ’til I realised something.’
His gaze dropped to her hands, clasped on the table, before slowly raising to eyeball her, and what she saw snatched her breath.
Adoration? Hope? Dared she think it...love?
‘I figured this time I wanted to run towards something and not away from it.’
Some of her resentment melted as she gnawed on her bottom lip, wanting to speak, afraid of saying too much.
‘That airline ticket was my lousy way of saying I want to be with you.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I can’t lose you, Cal. Not this time.’
The silence stretched between them and she took it as her cue to speak.
‘I can’t traipse around the world after you, even if Mum says it’s okay.’
He nodded. ‘I know. I was thinking maybe I should stick around for a while—teach classes at the surf school, give back to my home town and the sport that’s given me everything.’
Shock ripped apart her carefully constructed defences.
‘You’re staying in Torquay?’
‘If you make it worth my while.’ His mouth kicked up at the corners in a cheeky dare, and she could have sworn her heart kicked right back.
Wow.
Renowned nomad and confirmed gypsy Archer Flett was willing to put down roots. For her.
It was what she’d dreamed of—what she would have traded anything for eight years ago. But despite the urge to be selfish for once in her life, grab what she wanted and damn the consequences, she couldn’t do it.
Archer was willing to stick around now, but for how long? What about when the going got tough with her mum? What about when they had to live apart for months because of his work commitments and her emotional ones?
Constant pressures on a relationship would wear it down and she’d be right back where she started. Loving Archer, her trust shattered.
‘So what do you say? Think you can handle having me in your life?’
Her heart wanted to yell, Hell, yeah.
Her mind froze with the implications of losing him. This time around it would be so much worse, because he was willing to give it all up for her.
And she had to push him away.
‘I—I can’t. I’m sorry.’
She had a second to register his open-mouthed shock before she bolted from the restaurant, dodging a family of boisterous children brandishing crackers and a bedraggled Santa who looked as if he’d been doing overtime all week.
She couldn’t head for the car, and both sides of the road were lined with outdoor chairs and tables filled to overflowing with Christmas revellers.
Her hesitation cost her dearly. A hand clamped around her upper arm.
‘I’ve asked the waiter to hold our meal until we’ve had a little chat. In private.’
She could have struggled, but with people casting concerned glances their way and reaching for their mobile phones she acquiesced to him leading her to the car, where she slouched in the front seat like a recalcitrant child.
‘Nora told me you have trust issues and that you’d tell me the rest. Is that what this is about?’
Way to go, Mum, she thought. Traitor.
She folded her arms and glared. ‘Maybe I’m just not that into you?’
He laughed. ‘Not buying it. Try again.’
She clamped her lips shut in the hope that he’d tire of the silent treatment and give up.
‘She said you were scared. Has some guy done a number on you? Because I can emasculate him if that’ll help.’
The corners of her mouth curved upwards before she could stop them.<
br />
‘You know I’ll keep throwing out outlandish suggestions ’til you tell me the truth, right?’
And he would. If the guy had been determined enough to win the World Championship five times, odds were he wouldn’t let up.
She took a deep breath, blew it out. ‘My dad let me down repeatedly. Rarely followed through on promises. Popped in when he felt like it. Paid more attention to his next three wives than he did to Mum and me. Then when Mum was diagnosed he stopped contact altogether.’
Archer swore.
‘Yeah, I think I’ve used that expletive a few times myself.’ She shrugged, hoping he’d back off and she wouldn’t have to divulge the rest—the real reason why she was petrified of a relationship with Archer. ‘Guess I’m reluctant to trust people because of that.’
‘There’s more.’
She should’ve known he’d be too smart to let this go.
‘Cal, look at me.’
But she couldn’t. Couldn’t risk him seeing her real fear.
‘Your dad sounds like a selfish jerk, but that’s not what has you so scared.’
When she still wouldn’t eyeball him, he swore again. ‘Thanks to you, I sorted things out with my family. I stashed my damn pride and took the first step in rebuilding the gap I created.’ He jabbed a thumb at his chest. ‘I’ve got trust issues too, because they didn’t trust me enough to confide in when they should’ve. I often wonder if it’s me, something about me that made them do that. But I’m not wasting time second-guessing myself any more, Cal. It’s not worth it. I’m going out on a limb here because it’s you. I’m scared like you are, so there has to be more.’
Damn him for being so intuitive.
‘Is this about the motor neurone disease? Are you scared you’ll inherit it?’
Her gaze snapped to his, and in that instant she gave away her final fear.
‘Because it’s natural to be scared, but whatever happens in the future we’ll face it together.’
‘Are you crazy? You saw my mum. And she’s only going to get worse. You think I want you to...?’ She trailed off in horror, tears blurring her eyes at how close she’d come to blurting the truth.