by Mandy Magro
‘Oh, that’s the horny one … Southern Comfort, Midori, Triple Sec, and a splash of orange juice.’ Renee grinned and held her glass up. ‘Bottoms up, my friend.’ She threw it back.
Emma did the same, her expression immediately showing her immense displeasure as she forced it down. ‘Oh my god, that was horrible.’ She smacked her glass down on the table then wiped her lips with the back of her hand.
‘Horrible, but potent.’ Renee grinned wickedly.
‘Oh lord, help me.’ Emma chuckled. ‘What is it with you nurses? You can drink any guy under the table and still stay steady on your feet.’
‘We don’t buckle under pressure, and we rise to the challenge.’ Renee punched the air and both women laughed.
Emma held up the next shot glass. ‘Should I ask what’s in this one?’
‘Butterscotch Schnapps, Baileys and a layer of cream.’
‘Damn, Rennie, mixing stuff like this, you’re going to have to hold my hair back at some point.’
Renee grinned. ‘I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again.’
‘Ditto, my friend.’
They threw the shots back, smacked the glasses down and then grinned.
Needing something to wash the taste out of her mouth, Emma stood and picked up her empty glass. ‘You want another vodka, lime and soda?’
‘Yes, please.’
‘Groovy, I’ll be back as soon as I’ve hunted two down.’ She grinned. ‘Drinks, I mean, not men.’
‘Oh, bugger.’ Pouting playfully, Renee sat back and stretched her arms wide. ‘I’ll hold the fort.’
Emma weaved her way through the crowd, diverting en route for a quick pit stop at the loo. Now she’d broken the seal, she’d need to go every half an hour. Staring at her reflection under the unflattering lights, she thought about reapplying her powder foundation and lippy, but then shrugged it off. Who was she trying to impress anyway? Washing her hands, she smiled while listening to the clucking of conversations.
She reached the bar on increasingly wobbly legs. Not as much a party animal as she used to be, she really needed to slow up on the drinks after throwing back the two shooters. She was usually in bed before nine, with her knee pillow jammed between her legs, and she was suddenly finding it hard to keep her eyes open.
Waiting to be served, she leant on the bar, doing her best not to catch the eyes of the two blokes beside her. Both young enough to pass as her sons, the pimply faced of the two openly tried to look down her top while his mate egged him on. Self-conscious, she tugged it up, straightened, and heaved a sigh. What had happened to all the good ones? Men who actually behaved like men? At her age, she guessed they were all taken and at home with their wives and families.
On either side of her, every bar stool had a jeans-clad butt on it, and there wasn’t a table to be begged, borrowed or stolen. Raised voices were in competition with the blare of the country band rocking it out on stage; their rendition of Jimmy Barnes’s ‘Rising Sun’ had people grooving on the dance floor.
When it was finally her turn, Emma ordered and then handed over a twenty. Thanking the barman, she grabbed her change and the two vodka, lime and sodas. Easing back into her seat, she took a sip and leant across the table so Renee could hear her over the band. ‘Thanks so much for dragging me out. You were right, after the week I’ve had I really need to let off some steam, and I’m actually enjoying myself.’
Reaching out and squeezing her hand, Renee offered a sympathetic smile. ‘After the past few years you’ve had, I reckon you could use an entire month away, letting off said steam.’
‘Yeah, tell me about it, but that ain’t going to be happening anytime soon.’
‘Bali flights are on sale, we could make it happen …’
‘Afraid not, Rennie, there’s no way I’ll be leaving Riley for any length of time. She really needs me right now.’ She looked at her friend. ‘Thanks so much for talking to her last night – it made a huge difference.’
‘She’s a normal hormonal teenager, who has a dick for a so-called father, and her grandfather has just died. She just needed a gentle reminder of how wonderful you are to her.’
‘Thanks, hun, sometimes I feel like such a failure as a mother.’
‘Not everything that happens in her life is your fault, Em.’
‘I know, I just want to protect her from the tough things in life, and I can’t. And with everything I’ve told you about …’ She shook her head and stared into her drink. ‘I’m just so scared of losing her when the truth finally comes out.’
‘And how are you going to lose her, Em? She might be angry for a while, hurt you kept it all from her, but she will eventually understand. You’ll see.’
‘But what if she packs her bags and goes and lives with Michael?’
‘Trust me, as much as she swears black and blue she’s going to, she won’t. And even if she does, it will be just like the last two times, she’ll be back home before you know it. She loves you, Em. You two are best friends, always have been and always will be. Nothing will ever change that.’
‘I really hope you’re right, Rennie.’
‘I’m always right, and if I’m not, then I’m just mistaken.’ Renee grinned. ‘Now come on, old girl, we got ourselves some partying to do.’
‘Hey, speak for yourself, you old fart.’
‘I’m two months older than you …’ Renee winked cheekily and held up her glass. ‘So I’ll drink to that.’
Trying to swing her thoughts to the here and now, Emma eased back into her seat and tapped her foot in time to the music.
Renee’s eyebrows shot up as she peered over her shoulder. ‘Oh, shit, Em.’
‘What?’
‘Don’t turn around.’
Emma spun around and the familiar bulk of manly man her gaze snagged on made her insides twist and tumble. ‘Oh, shit.’ She turned back to Renee, her friend’s shocked expression matching her own, she was sure of it.
‘Exactly what I said before I said don’t turn around.’
‘Well, of course I’m going to turn around when you tell me not to.’ Emma rolled her eyes. ‘How in the hell did I not see him when I went over to the bar?’
‘I have no idea.’ Renee shrugged. ‘He’s one hell of a hunky spunky man, Em. It’s no wonder you—’
‘Shhh.’ Emma cut her off while trying to stop her coy smile. ‘I have to go and say hello now, don’t I?’
‘Look at the way you’re smiling, Miss Kensington.’ A brow raised, Renee leant across the table. ‘Anyone would think you still like the bloke.’ She ignored Emma’s protests. ‘And yes, seeing as he’s the father of your child, and your ex-brother-in-law who’s here for his father’s funeral, yes, you kind of do.’ She sat back. ‘Unless you want him to spot you first, and then come and sit with us for the rest of the night,’ she said, grinning audaciously. ‘I haven’t got a problem if he does.’
‘Well, I do.’ Emma swallowed her smile and sighed. ‘There’s a lot of water under the bridge where he’s concerned, especially after last time.’
Renee nodded. ‘Have to agree there.’
Emma took a sip from her drink and then sucked in a breath. ‘I’d rather go to him, and that way I can make an exit if I start feeling uncomfortable.’
‘You want me to come with you?’
‘Nope, you do a good job of holding the fort, so stick to that.’ Emma stood. ‘I won’t be long.’
Renee smiled. ‘Alrighty then.’
Drawing Dutch courage from the few drinks she’d had, Emma moved behind a big bloke waiting at the bar for a drink, out of Zane’s line of sight. Skulking on the edge of the crowd, she stole a few moments to gather herself. She couldn’t let Zane see how much she was shaking. And luckily, for both their sakes, she did hesitate, because the foxy brunette who’d just appeared at Zane’s side looked mighty cosy, as did he. How damn awkward that would have been. Emma shook her head – Casanova at his finest. He knew how to draw the women to him, and always had. She groan
ed, her swooning heart sinking. Looks like he still hadn’t got over his womanising ways, she decided. She should have known – a leopard never changed its spots.
* * *
Zane turned in his seat, a little taken aback by the brunette’s audacity, as he looked into eyes the colour of dark chocolate. Her long locks were slung over one shoulder and her denim shorts were so damn short he really didn’t have to use much of his imagination. The heart attack waiting to happen hadn’t wasted any time closing in on him.
‘Well, howdy there.’ He flashed her a broad smile.
She returned it, her pearl-white teeth stark against her red lips. ‘Howdy, yourself, cowboy.’ She had a thick accent, one he couldn’t quite put his finger on. She pointed to the group she’d just walked away from. ‘My friends over there dared me to come talk to you, and me being me, I never knock back a challenge.’
‘Did they now?’ He took a lazy swig from his whisky while cautiously eyeing the long-legged woman.
She curled a lock of hair around her finger. ‘Uh-huh, and they bet me a hundred bucks that I wouldn’t be able to get you to kiss me within five minutes.’
Gobsmacked, he stared at the vivacious female, who was undressing him with her eyes like there was no tomorrow. Confidence was always sexy, but she was heading into conceited territory. Quickly pulling himself together, and not wanting to come across as arrogant, he smiled charmingly. ‘And what’s in it for me if I do, kiss you, that is?’
‘You get the awesome experience of touching these lips.’ She grinned, pointing to her glossy red smile.
‘Right.’ As much as he didn’t find her brazenness attractive, he had to give her kudos for having the guts to do such a thing. He paused, not sure of what to do, and not wanting to give her the wrong impression. But then again, what would it hurt, to help her get the hundred bucks? It wasn’t like he was going to have sex with her, and her cherry red lips were tempting. They might help take his mind off things, if only for a couple of seconds, maybe a little longer.
Possibly sensing his hesitancy, she put her hands on her hips, guiding his gaze down her deliciously curvy figure. He could imagine just how that body would feel if he got his hands on her, which he was mentally telling himself over and over not to even consider, as hard as that was being a hot-blooded man. Besides, it would probably only cause trouble, and he had enough trouble in his life right now.
She flashed him a coy smile. ‘Do you like what you see?’
‘How could any man not like what he sees when he looks at you?’ He had to be honest, she was stunning.
Running a finger down his chest peeking out from his button-up shirt, she threw her head back and laughed. ‘Why, thank you, cowboy.’
Feeling a little uncomfortable, he started to make conversation. ‘So, I gather from your accent you’re not from around these parts?’
She took another step closer to him. ‘Nope, just swinging through, on my way to Port Douglas. My girlfriends and I are on a six-week holiday all the way from Russia.’
Now here was a woman who wouldn’t want any form of commitment, and yet he felt no desire to give her what she so clearly fancied, which was way more than a measly kiss. ‘Wow, you’re a long way from home.’
‘Yes, I am, and we’re all loving the Aussie hospitality so far. Aussie blokes are so, how do I put it, accommodating.’ Smirking, she looked back at her friends, who all gave her the thumbs up. Turning to him, she placed a hand on his bouncing knee. ‘So, are you up for it, or not?’
He almost choked on his mouthful of whisky. ‘A kiss?’
She placed her other hand on his other knee, steadying that one too, her ample cleavage now on show. ‘Yes, a kiss.’
For god’s sake, as much as he had to admit she was striking, he just wanted to get rid of her. ‘Well, with so much riding on it, how could a bloke say no?’
Her brown eyes widened, as did her coquettish smile. ‘That’s a good man.’
Placing his empty glass down on the bar, and nodding to the barman for another, he then leant in, grabbed her around the waist, and kissed her like he meant it. Like anything in his life, if he was going to do something, he was going to do it well.
The woman wrapped her arms around his neck, possessively, lustfully. In that split-second, he couldn’t help feeling the yearnings to drag her off to his room, to take pleasure in meaningless sex, but he fought them off. His gut told him it would be a really bad decision, and he’d made enough of them in his life.
Finally untangling from him, she stood back, wiping the corners of her lips as if she’d just eaten a delicious meal. Her red lipstick was smudged. ‘That was good.’
‘Only good, huh?’ Zane flashed her a cheeky smile, then wiped where he imagined her lipstick was left around his mouth.
‘Okay, cowboy, maybe a little more than good.’ She purred, her smile mischievous. ‘Thank you for helping me out …’ She leant in close and brought her lips to his ear. ‘If you want more, we can finish what we started a little later, yes?’ Stepping back, she bit her bottom lip as she waited for his agreement.
Put on the spot, and not wanting to hurt her feelings, Zane cleared his throat. ‘Oh, thanks, but I’ve had a really long day, so I’m going to hit the sack soon.’
‘That’s okay, I can hit the sack with you.’ She fluttered her lashes.
‘Ah, I appreciate the offer, but I’m beat and would be no good to you anyway.’
Her smile all but fading, she said something to him in what he gathered to be Russian. Whatever it was, she didn’t look happy. Turning on her heel, she sashayed back to her friends, giving him the finger over her shoulder.
‘Charming,’ he mumbled as he passed the barman ten dollars.
Grabbing his whisky on the rocks from the bar, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Far out, she was back to give him what for, or to try harder. Either way, he wasn’t in the mood for it any longer. Ready to fob her off, his heart almost exploded in his chest when he spun around to come face to face with the woman of his dreams and fantasies. Age had most certainly worked in her favour – she looked even more beautiful than he remembered. He shot to his feet.
‘Zane Wolfe, it feels like forever.’ Her smile didn’t hold its usual effervescence, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of what he’d done before, or because of what she’d undoubtedly just seen him do.
His soul instantly reaching for hers, he wanted to scoop her into his arms, but refrained. He took a brief moment to catch his breath. ‘More like a lifetime, Em. It’s really good to see you,’ he said, before clearing his throat. ‘How have you been?’
‘Yeah, can’t complain, I suppose.’ Reaching out, she touched his hand resting on the bar, sending a flood of heat through him. ‘I’m so sorry about Peter. I could only imagine how much of a shock it’s been for you. Of course, I’m gathering you haven’t been in touch with him much over the past few years.’ The gentle concern in her eyes ignited an unwelcome hunger in his chest, laced with a deep nostalgia he wasn’t ready to face. Not now. Not ever.
His heart racing and at a loss for words, he looked to where her hand still rested on his, and then back at her sparkling eyes. Her mouth parted ever so slightly as she inhaled sharply. The noise of the pub faded away as something unfathomable passed between then, so fleetingly he wondered if he’d imagined it. Then her cheeks suddenly flushed, and she quickly straightened and shoved both her hands into her jeans’ pockets, as if she had to hide them to stop from touching him.
He finally found his voice. ‘Thanks, Em. It still feels so surreal that he’s not here anymore.’
‘Yeah, I bet it does. I can’t believe it either.’
‘I’d always thought the tough old bastard would somehow outlive me.’ He forced a smile, desperate to lighten the mood.
‘Yeah, well, I suppose, with bull riding, you never know if your time is going to be up way too soon.’
‘Yup, it’s not a case of if you get hurt … but when.’ He shrugged. ‘All part of the exc
itement, I guess, for us, and the spectators.’
‘Uh-huh.’ She rocked back and forth on her heels. ‘Sooooo …’ She drew the word out, her eyes travelling to the leggy Russian woman who was now playing pool with the bunch of wild-looking ringers. ‘I see you’re still up to your old tricks, Casanova.’ Her mouth flattened as she dragged her gaze back to him, a fire within them that wasn’t there moments ago.
The nickname she knew he hated hit him like a sucker punch to the chest, but he smiled through it. He wasn’t going to let her see how much it still hurt him. Was she jealous? He liked the thought. One hell of a lot. Too bloody much, actually. She was clearly still the same, rebellious, stubborn creature – composed on the outside but with something so wild and untamed behind her stare. ‘It was just a dare, Em, no biggy.’
‘It looked like a hell of a lot more than that, Zane.’ Her tone was curt, tense, and almost accusatory. She folded her arms defensively.
‘Is that a little bit of jealousy I can hear?’ He couldn’t help himself, or the satisfied smirk curling his lips.
She glared at him, and then gazed over his shoulder at the band, as though not looking into his eyes any longer was the safest option.
Following her line of sight, Zane pretended to be engrossed in the band too, while stealing subtle sideways glances. She’d always been a firecracker, which is why he’d nicknamed her so. Like a provoked micky bull, her nostrils flared a little and her hands were fisted at her sides. Provoke her any more, and he knew from experience, she would give him a piece of her mind – and he liked that about her. He always knew where he stood with Em, and too bad for him if he didn’t like it. Even when she was angry, she was magnificent.
Hating this uncomfortable tension between them, he itched to reach out and pull her to him, to hold her close and kiss her beautiful, glossy lips; to tell her how much she’d been on his mind over the years and reveal just how much she meant to him. But he had no right to, and he was fairly certain she wouldn’t want to hear any of it anyway. He touched his cheek, remembering the harsh sting her slap had left as if it’d just happened, and then suddenly he was right back there, at her front door, his heart being smashed to smithereens as she told him the night they’d shared before he’d left Aussie shores had been a one-off, a moment in time he needed to find a way to forget. If that wasn’t cutting enough, she then went on to say he was the type of man she could never see herself with … the cheating type. He may have been a bit of a womaniser, it came with the bull-riding territory, but he never, ever, would have cheated on her. Not like Michael had, many times over.