by Jennie Jones
‘Didn’t get pretzels by any chance, did you?’
Jamie pulled the ute up by the petrol station as Mrs Tam came out, waving at them and holding…a pair of mauve-coloured rubber thong-between-the-toe sandals.
‘Here you go, Kate,’ she said, handing them through the window Jamie had wound down.
‘How thoughtful, Mrs Tam. Thank you,’ Kate said, stretching her arm over Jamie’s 48-inch T-shirted chest. Smooth. Firm. Lime-scented muscles. Kate pulled her arm away and sat back in her own seat.
‘You’re welcome, dear. Now you two have a lovely evening. And don’t forget the decorating at the weekend. Might as well make it something special this year. We’ve waited long enough for the decorations to go up.’ She wagged a finger at Jamie. ‘Behave. Remember, Swallow’s Fall appreciates courteousness and civility.’
Jamie pulled away once Mrs Tam went back to the petrol station. ‘Was she talking about my driving?’ he asked in a perplexed tone.
‘No. She was talking about you and me.’
‘How come?’
‘We’re boyfriend and girlfriend.’
‘Are we now?’ he said after a slight pause.
Kate grinned. ‘You didn’t get the town committee email?’
Jamie shot her a look. ‘Something else Sammy forgot to send.’
Kate’s laugh bubbled out. ‘Didn’t she just?’ She settled into her seat. ‘Oh well. Can’t go accusing her of matchmaking when we don’t know for sure if she was.’ Although Kate would be interrogating Sammy about the possibility. ‘Anyway, the townspeople are just gossiping and Sammy’s wrong about the match. So everything should be put right soon.’
Kate didn’t get a response. She glanced his way. His feature were impassive, the slight frown probably concentration on driving. Or perhaps he hadn’t heard her.
Chapter 6
Jamie watched the road ahead, driving mostly by reflex, his thoughts processing the girlfriend-boyfriend scenario.
Swallow’s Fall townspeople were liberal enough for his liking. Isn’t that why he’d decided to settle down here? Settle down. More thought needed on that concept too. Shooting stars had a lot to answer for. Like — why now? Why settle for a town with a quiet ambience? Why settle at all? And yeah. What about that girlfriend-boyfriend thing?
‘It’s cute, yes?’ Kate said, obviously referring to her remark about matchmaking which Jamie hadn’t felt needed a response. ‘An old-fashioned terminology for people our age though, don’t you think?’
She was prising an answer from him. Maybe looking for an idea about what he thought. ‘Well, that’s the country for you,’ he said, by means of no answer at all.
Swallow’s Fall townspeople tended towards the ultra-conservative when they looked at boyfriends and girlfriends. No matter their ages. Like, no pashing in public. Nothing French, anyway. Hopefully they’d seen Kate’s arrival for what it was — an accident, albeit they’d already tied the two of them together in some sort of romantic knot.
His girlfriend bent over in her seat, catching Jamie’s eye with her movement.
‘Are those my socks?’ he asked as she pulled her pretty Wellington boots off her feet with a huge sigh.
‘Yes, hope you don’t mind but I borrowed them. I don’t have any socks.’ She arched her feet, stretching her toes the way ballet dancers did and for some Goddamn unknown reason, Jamie thought of sex. Her feet were pale skinned and elegant. Why she bothered with the heels, he didn’t know. Yes he did. What man wouldn’t look at a beautiful girlfriend wearing four-inches of look-at-me shoe and not admire her and them?
He cleared his throat and told his mind to wander elsewhere. Like to the road ahead.
Kate’s mobile rang. Jamie glanced over again when she pulled it from the pocket of her red denim hipster shorts. He caught a glimpse of the skin on her waist as her little white top rode up her midriff.
Don’t look, he said to himself, as his gaze flicked over the length of her legs. Don’t look there, either.
Suddenly, in eight short weeks he had a house and a guest who’d become his girlfriend. He’d shopped with care that morning and planned for meals. Next thing he knew, they’d be getting a cat.
‘Hmmm,’ Kate voiced as she looked at the screen of her phone. She hit a button with her rosy-pink tipped finger, obviously not happy about the ID of the caller and slipped the phone back into her pocket.
‘Business?’ he asked.
‘Yup.’
‘Still don’t want to take the calls?’
‘Nope.’
Jamie clamped his mouth together. But hell, Sammy’s voice rang in his head anyway. Try to get her to open up, Jamie. It would have been hard for, staying in the city at this time.
‘So who are your calls from?’ he asked as he turned the ute into the No Through Road to his home.
‘Fat Jacques,’ she said. ‘Fat in the greedy, covetous department, that is. Scumbag-style.’ She turned in her seat to face him. ‘Who in bejeesuz do some people think they are, Jamie?’
‘That’s Irish,’ he reminded her. ‘So Fat Jacques is…?’ Her boss? Her boyfriend?
‘Varmint.’
His mouth curved in a smile. ‘Now you’re crossing continents. Varmint is southern USA. You mean vermin.’
‘I mean rat.’
Jamie took a breath, something inside his chest getting worried on her behalf. ‘Aren’t you concerned about losing your business, by not taking the calls?’
‘Might have lost it anyway.’
She spoke so quietly Jamie wasn’t sure if he was supposed to have heard. He didn’t question her further, but the scenario played on his mind all the way up his No Through Road driveway.
****
She had the bunny pyjamas on. Jamie took his concentration off the short shorts and the nipped in jacket and back onto the summer lamb casserole he’d been preparing. ‘Dinner’ll be a couple of hours yet.’
‘Don’t care. I need wine first, anyway. Ooh.’ She padded across the kitchen to the fridge, bare footed and looking as though she was walking on hot coals. Jamie gave the lamb casserole a last stir, and put the cast-iron dish into the heated range oven. He hadn’t expected Kate to be a dressing gown and pyjama-wearing woman. Not around him, anyway. He’d imagined his immaculate executive guest to remain clothed in her power-wear. The bunny PJs and silky robe were a surprise. As were the wellies and the ridiculous straw hat. Kate the enigma.
‘Living in the country is agony,’ she said, lifting her feet, one after the other and scrunching her toes as though to relieve the tension or joint pain.
‘Don’t tell me,’ he said. ‘You’re plumb tuckered out.’
‘You guessed it. You have no idea what fourteen kilometres has done to my feet. This never happens on the running machine.’ She unscrewed the cap on her Chardonnay, pulled a wine glass across the bench top and poured wine. She lifted the bottle and her eyebrows his way.
Jamie shook his head. ‘I’ll have a beer.’
She grabbed one out of the fridge, closed the door with a kick of her backside and hobbled over to him.
‘Thanks.’ He unscrewed the cap and took a slug. And couldn’t hold back his next question. ‘Are you going to stay the whole holiday, Katie?’
She paused, obviously mulling over her answer. She sipped her wine. ‘Yes, please,’ she said softly, not looking at him. ‘If it’s still okay.’
‘It’s still okay.’ Fine. It was okay. This was day four — he’d mostly missed her yesterday because she’d slept all day. Now he knew he had a full eight days ahead of him, he’d handle it. He wasn’t going to count the nights. He’d think about those another time. When she didn’t look so adorable in her pyjamas. When he’d quit imagining her out of her pyjamas.
He took another slug of his beer, and downed nearly half the bottle.
‘You know, in some ways, Jamie, being thrown together like this might be a bonus for both of us.’
He narrowed his eyes. The bonus would be seeing her out of her…
&nbs
p; ‘Come on,’ she said, swinging her glass his way and looking as though she’d taken his pause as a negative about what she’d said. ‘Really. We’re so different — perhaps we can learn from each other’s perspectives on life.’
‘You have a perspective on life that I need to know about?’ he asked, topping his remark with a grin.
She pulled a face. ‘Well, it’s not going to work if you’re not going to play.’ She frowned at him in a stuffy manner. ‘Thing is, you’ve got it all.’ She indicated the house with her raised glass. ‘I have to go without a few things before I can decide which things I want to pick up and run with.’
‘Like what?’
‘Don’t know yet. It’ll come to me. That’s what Grandy suggested I do. Chart it out. I think he might be reason I was drawn to town.’
‘Really?’ Again, Jamie searched for the elusive reasons of why he’d chosen this town.
‘He’s a wise barn owl.’
‘Yes, he is.’ Jamie liked the old man. Reminded him of his own grandfather. And also of his father and the lengths James Knight had gone to protect his family from the elements of change. Which, of course, reminded Jamie of Megan.
‘I don’t have it all,’ he told Kate. Although he had enough, and he’d have more, if Megan would let him call her and speak to her. But she wouldn’t, so what he had for now was a house he’d never imagined buying, an intention to settle down he’d never before desired and a beautiful fashion executive wearing bunny pyjamas he wanted to get her out of. Yeah. Right. All he needed now was for the cat to make an appearance and he’d be in the middle of home-sweet-homey-ness.
‘So I’ve decided I’m going without it,’ she said.
For the love of God, why did he immediately think sex? ‘Without what?’
‘Arg!’ She flopped onto the Chesterfield and wiggled her toes.
Jamie put his beer down and strode over to her. ‘How come you can wear killer heels and not have any problems, but walking in flats is killing you?’
‘Lack of practice.’
‘Here.’ He bent on one knee, took hold of her foot and pressed the pad of his thumb into the ball of her foot.
‘Oh, Mr Knight Works,’ she said, her voice tumbling from softly satisfied to deep and sexy. ‘I’m going to let you do that because you have no idea how good it is.’
Jamie knew caution at this moment would be his saviour but he couldn’t help himself to save himself. He pressed both of his thumb pads into the sole of her foot and waited for her to writhe.
‘Oh, God, yes. That’s good. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.’ She slithered further down the sofa, her backside tucked into the cushion behind her. ‘This is definitely something I don’t want to go without.’
Since he’d been without what he was thinking about for some time, he let her foot slide out of his hand and back to the floor. There was only so much self-inflicted torment a man could take.
‘You stopped,’ she said, in an accusatory tone.
‘More wine?’ he asked.
****
‘So what shall we talk about?’ she asked as she poured herself a second glass of wine.
How you look without your pyjamas?
Jamie gathered some pre-dinner foodstuffs from the pantry. She might not be hungry but he was starving. Dinner would have been earlier if he hadn’t had to go into town in search of Kate.
‘We’ve got eight nights ahead of us at Silver Bells House,’ she said. ‘What do you do for evening fun?’
‘Strip walls, sand wood and knock down walls.’
She wiggled her fingertips at him. ‘Sorry. Manicure. No can help.’
‘How about a board game?’ They’d better find something to do. Or at least, he ought to. We’ve got, she’d said. We. As in our place. Our home. Jamie shook his head to get himself out of the cloud his mind had wandered into.
‘Great. What games have you got?’
He stepped through the wooden partitions of the wall he’d ripped out between the kitchen and the dining room and pulled out a couple of boxed games from the sideboard. Anything to take his mind off her damned pyjamas.
‘Exasperation or Monopolise,’ he said as he placed both board games onto the dining room table.
She grinned at him. ‘I haven’t played Exasperation since I was ten years old. I love it. I love popping the plastic bubble and watching the die bounce.’ She moved from the Chesterfield and pulled out a chair at the table. ‘I’m gonna beat your stonemason’s hide.’
Jamie held up his hand, index finger pinched to thumb. ‘And I was this far from a getaway.’
‘Come on, boyfriend. Sit down and prepare to be annihilated.’
Jamie chuckled. ‘Hope you don’t cheat, girlfriend.’
‘I’ll set up,’ she said, taking the lid off the box of Exasperation. ‘And I’m the guest, so I choose red. You can be blue.’
‘Thanks.’ He’d have chosen that colour anyway, although Megan usually gave him the green game pieces to pop into their clear plastic slots as the game progressed. It had been the only game that kept her occupied. They’d played it over and over. She hadn‘t wanted to read and Jamie hadn’t wanted her to watch television or DVDs. Nothing that could remind her of what she thought she had to look like.
He stood, went to the kitchen bench and ripped open a bag of cheese and onion chips. He emptied them into a bowl and slid it across the dining room table, next to the Exasperation game. ‘Help yourself.’ He sat.
‘What flavour?’ she asked, scrunching her nose and looking at the chips as though they might jump up and bite her.
‘Take a handful and find out.’
She munched on two slivers of broken cheese and onion chip. ‘Are you trying to make me fat?’ she asked.
His heart almost sliced in two right there and then. ‘Please yourself,’ he said, and ignored her in the way he used to ignore Megan when he’d tried to get her to eat something and she refused.
Kate took a handful and grinned. ‘I will,’ she said, and layered three chips so that they sat perfectly curved, one on top of the other, then bit into them. ‘Yum.’ She wiped a crumb from the corner of her mouth with her finger. ‘Absolute bloody calorie-heaven.’ She swallowed the rest and grabbed some more. ‘Are these the only flavour we’ve got?’
The muscles of his torn heart melted and then mended at her words. He pushed the bowl towards her and she took another handful. Why hadn’t Megan been able to do that?
****
‘Do you think I’m snappy?’ she asked, pressing the bubble down hard with the palm of her hand.
‘Hey,’ Jamie said, pointing at the game. ‘You pressed it twice.’
‘I did not.’
‘You did. You got a three and a two on the first pop — which would have taken you nowhere fast — so you popped again.’
She held her hands up. ‘I didn’t pop again, I got a six and a five on the first pop. You’re seeing things and hearing things, Mr Knight Works.’
Jamie stared her down. She grinned, but didn’t look away from him. Jamie gave in.
‘I don’t think you’re snappy,’ he said, answering her question. ‘But I think you probably make snap decisions. Especially when you cheat.’
‘I don’t cheat but I do make snap decisions. That’s exactly what I do and most of the time they work.’
‘Yeah, but those are business decisions. How many times do you make snap decisions on what you’re going to do next? I mean the personal decisions.’
‘It’s not good to make hasty decisions of the personal variety. Don’t know where you’ll end up.’
‘So perhaps that’s what you can focus on while you’re here. Figure out the difference.’
‘That’s good. I will. After all — I made a hasty decision to come to the country, didn’t I? And that’s working out.’ She lifted her glass of wine. ‘You know, if I like the country and it likes me — I might stay.’
Jamie raised his brow. ‘Holy moly, Katie. Not sure we’re ready for yo
u.’
She laughed. He’d meant to put fun into the conversation and to get her to open up, but hearing her laughter, listening to her discuss her wants, needs and possibilities — Jamie hoped like hell everything did work out for her. Whatever it was.
****
After their fifth game, one of which Jamie had won, Jamie tucked into his lamb casserole. She’d only eaten a small bowlful, which he supposed he couldn’t blame her for. She’d eaten her way through most of the family-sized packet of chips and half a tub of guacamole dip.
‘How do you know Sammy?’ he asked.
‘I was her boss. She’s a fabulous artist. She used to finalise my designers’ sketches. Turned them into art, believe me. Then she married the vet and gave it up to do her own art stuff. But she’s my best friend above everything else. At one point — before she and the vet sorted themselves out into a true love match — I had it in mind to come down to Swallow’s Fall and punch him.’
‘Why do keep calling Ethan the vet?’ Jamie asked.
‘Because I love him and he likes my jokes.’
‘I didn’t take you for a joke-maker.’
‘He’s the master vet. Like you’re the master builder. Maybe I love men who are masterful.’ She raised a finger. ‘In the nicest possible way, of course.’
Jamie’s thoughts swung to being masterful in the bedroom.
‘Damn,’ she said, frowning as though a thought had struck her.
‘What now?’
‘I’m jealous of my best friend.’
‘Because she has a masterful man in her life?’ He expected Kate to throw him one her well-placed executive looks but instead, she nodded.
‘Not of Sammy having Ethan,’ she said. ‘Just that she’s got someone wonderful in her life.’ She peered at him. ‘I’m going to have to do something about this.’
Jamie raised his eyebrows. Looked like he was going to be told what. Just his luck. ‘Like?’ He hoped to God it didn’t involve him.
‘Like start getting my act together. I’ve only got eight days.’ She looked across the kitchen. ‘Can you spare a small area of your chalkboard?’ She uncurled her long bare legs from her chair and hobbled to the board he’d put up on one wall, closest to the pantry.