‘Aw, Dad,’ she gulped. ‘I need that.’ His backing made everything a little easier to deal with. ‘Here’s Cole.’ She passed the phone to her husband. Yes, whatever came about, he still was her husband. ‘Dad wants a word.’
Immediately, wariness clouded Cole’s face.
She put him out of his misery. ‘It’s okay. Nothing personal.’
‘Marty, how’s things?’ Cole strolled out to the barbecue, which was sheltered by a plastic roof.
The lights flickered, went out, came back on. Vicki moved to the bench where the lanterns stood in case it happened again. Being left in the dark was the last thing she wanted.
Cole was back, phone still to his ear. ‘Okay?’ he mouthed, hand on her shoulder.
She nodded, glad of his company, trying to ignore the warmth his touch brought.
He smiled again. ‘Good.’ He’d know she wasn’t being entirely honest, but it was part of the routine to say she was fine. ‘Hang on, Marty, I’ll go down to your office and check that.’
Vicki watched him walking out of the room, the limp not as noticeable in his long stride at the moment. Still as sexy as ever. Her heart lurched.
Oh, Cole. I’ve missed you more than I’d have believed possible.
What would he do if she followed him, wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against his chest? Or stretched up and kissed him again, showed him how much she still loved him? Made love with him?
You think?
The conversation still to come loomed between them, would taint any lovemaking.
She needed a distraction. Fast. After checking the matchbox was full, she went to get a torch from the cupboard, trying to calm her racing heart. The dark was her enemy. Snakes could slither through the house and she’d be none the wiser unless they bit her on the way past.
Cole dropped the phone back on its stand. ‘Didn’t know anyone still used landlines.’
‘It’s Mum. She’s prefers it to these modern new-fangled things.’
‘That’s Anna to a T.’ He smiled—almost as though he knew how hard it was for her to pretend his smiles meant nothing any more. ‘I’m glad you didn’t get that gene.’
‘As if.’ She was right up to date with phones and apps, which made setting up her business simpler. With the help of a computer whizz she’d started playing with website designs. As she planned to continue nursing while hiring out staff to hospitals and medical centres, accessing files and messages anywhere was important and required a streamlined system easily used under pressure. A flicker of excitement warmed her. Her own nursing agency. The doctors at the centre where she worked at the moment had been very encouraging when she’d run the idea past them. There was a lot to do before she was ready to start seeking out placements and staff, but she’d get there.
‘Those buns ready?’ Cole called from the deck, where he stood under cover, cooking the steak.
‘Nearly.’ Letting out a frustrated sigh, she tried to shake away the thought that Cole was going to fight her on this one. He had to be told, regardless of the weekend’s outcome. If, by some remote chance, they made up and decided to give their relationship another go, her agency would be an important factor. What worried her was her expectancy he’d say they’d be living in Sydney, not Cairns. An agency would work there too, yet the city was vast with a large population and she didn’t think she wanted to try to set up there. She’d have more competition, or she’d have to limit the area she covered. Which could work, she conceded.
‘Earth to Vicki. Rolls?’
* * *
Cole took the steaks inside and got two fresh water bottles from the fridge, handed Vicki one. ‘You all right?’ She’d been miles away when he’d popped his head around the door to check if everything was ready.
‘Sure.’ She pushed a plate with a buttered roll in his direction. ‘Hungry as.’
There’d never been anything wrong with her appetite. It was one of the things he’d liked when they’d first met. None of that nonsense about only eating small portions and ignoring the foods she really enjoyed. But then they’d connected on so many levels right from the get-go. ‘Me, too. The dry sandwich and bland coffee on the plane did nothing for my appetite.’
Exhaustion shaped her smile. ‘You should’ve helped yourself to something when we first got home.’
His appetite had quietened down as he dealt with being with Vicki, treading carefully so as not to upset her any further. ‘It’s all good. I’m enjoying this.’ He thought back to the night they’d first met. He’d been intrigued to find out who Nathan had thought might be his perfect match, and had gone along to the party fully expecting to have a laugh and maybe a good night with no follow-up and, wham, bam. Literally eyes meeting across the room.
When he’d first spotted Vicki he hadn’t realised she was his date. His gut had told him nothing was ever going to be the same, while his head had mentioned he had to find Nathan to say, ‘Forget who you’ve jacked me up with. I’ve found my match all by myself.’ Instead he’d found himself owing his mate for bringing Vicki to the party to meet him. They certainly had connected that night, and never looked back.
Until recently. Not that he was glancing backwards, more like trying to figure out what was ahead. That kiss had rocked him to his feet. Kisses were part of them, as was lovemaking. Being stuck in this holding pattern turned the importance of enjoying each other upside down. They needed to talk, fully and frankly.
Yet it was difficult to start. Like where? What came first? At the moment they were awkwardly comfortable with each other, as though pretending the past few months hadn’t happened. But they had, and they itched just below the surface. Explaining his failure to get her to fly to him after the accident had been difficult, but it was done. Maybe not quite finished, or accepted, but it was on the table.
He’d believed he’d been doing the right thing at the time, and hadn’t wanted to add to her pain, or his. He’d learned to make quick decisions about difficult situations in the hope he didn’t hurt anyone again. Had he been too quick?
Vicki said he was wrong to have decided for her. Hadn’t she left him without so much as talking through the miscarriage and other problems first? Sure, she’d been hurting, but he’d deserved a chance to go over what bothered them both, too. ‘How are you coping with the miscarriage?’
She put her fork down, and looked at him. ‘The loss is huge still. I have times when the tears flow, my heart breaks, and I want to scream at the world. But that happens less often now. I’m getting there, I guess.’
‘It’s never a quick fix.’
‘And you? How do you manage?’
‘I had lots of time to think about it while lying on my back. Yes, the pain left me feeling raw, and wishing we had been together to face what had happened. I think I’m over the worst. Not that the sense of loss will ever go away entirely.’
‘I agree.’ She nodded slowly. ‘It has been the
hardest thing I’ve dealt with. I struggle talking about it still.’
‘Might be best if we did.’ When she didn’t answer, he added, ‘Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.’
I love you, Vicki. Please don’t ever forget that. Don’t think I’ve stopped. I haven’t. Won’t.
The steak refused to go down his throat. He chewed some more. What if he’d truly lost her? For ever? No. It couldn’t happen. Could it? That blinding recognition of his feelings when he’d seen her racing to get out of the rain at the medical centre had told him more than anything else could how much she meant to him, and how nothing had changed. That short kiss had ramped up the stakes. Except now he was aware how quickly problems could escalate and would work hard to prevent them becoming a nightmare.
Vicki glanced up and locked wary, sad eyes on him. ‘Thanks.’
He’d never seen her so unhappy. And he was the cause of most of it.
‘Tell me again you’re going to be all right, that those injuries are healing properly,’ she said quietly.
He reached across the table for her hand and squeezed gently, felt the jolt that rocked her. ‘Seriously, I’m going to be fine. Already am. Might not climb Everest any time soon, but there’s nothing I can’t do that I didn’t used to be able to.’
Vicki returned the pressure on his hand before withdrawing. ‘It must’ve been terrifying.’
That gentle squeeze softened the ache in his heart. ‘It happened so fast I didn’t have time to think.’
Start being yourself. Be the guy you were before the theft ruined everything. The one who shared everything about himself, not just a select few issues that are easy to resolve.
It had been so long he doubted he even knew that version of himself, might not be that guy any longer. ‘Holding onto my phone was the only thought running through my head.’ Sigh. ‘And the thought that it was going to hurt when I landed.’