Chapter Seventeen

Jarrah cursed and shook his head while aimlessly scrolling through screen after never-ending screen of notifications. He’d tidied up all the loose ends, emptied his inbox, brought Charlie up to speed on everything that might pop up, and given his clients three months’ notice, yet the phone calls, texts, and emails never stopped. Yet the only thing his business brain could focus on was what the hell Manningham was up to. If the fucker launched another attack on Wingarra, he’d at least have something to get his mind back on track. But all he could do now was wait and try not to go batshit crazy.

He couldn’t blame the people he served for wanting their pound of flesh. If he paid what they did for his services, he’d want ’round-the-clock support as well. Problem was, it’d never felt like work before. The rush of boardroom warfare, the satisfaction of pampering his clients, and the pure crack of sticking it to the same gatekeepers that’d kept him out of their clubhouse for most of his life had driven him. The money, flashy cars, and penthouse were just cherries on a pretty freaking amazing sundae.

He’d never dreaded flicking on his phone even during his only time off for the year. Satisfying his clients had always brought him more peace than annoyance. No matter how many hours he’d sweated his arse off in the saddle or how many mouthfuls of dust he’d swallowed, he’d always found the energy to serve the people who entrusted him with their companies and financial future. Only this muster was different, this holiday more special, and he’d been doing his damnedest not to stare at the reason all night.

A hand thudded onto his shoulder and almost knocked his iPhone off the veranda and into the same dirt he’d been staring at for the last ten minutes. Ryder emerged from the shadows like a ghost and balanced a Heineken on the railing in front of him. “You do know the best man’s responsible for making sure the buck has a good time?”

Jarrah jammed his phone into his pocket and glared up at a lovestruck buck who couldn’t get much happier. “I think you’re good, Sarge.”

Ryder leaned on the railing beside him and scanned the remaining revelers. The combined hens’ and bucks’ night had been about as wild as a chess tournament on Valium, and it’d been exactly what Abi and Ryder had wanted. No strippers, apart from one tipsy member of the Country Women’s League who’d ensured her fellow gossip girls had something to discuss for the rest of the year. No drunken pranks that could’ve gotten someone killed if they’d tried sneaking up on Ryder or, even worse, Abi. And no cheesy games or speeches. The night had purely been about friends and family getting together and blowing the nonexistent roof off the courtyard.

Despite most of the crowd having to be up before dawn to squeeze in some mustering before the wedding reception tomorrow night, they’d had little trouble clearing the tables of food, emptying the fridges of booze, and kicking up dust on the dirt dance floor.

Ryder nudged him and raised his bottle. “I’m worried about you, big brother. That glamorous job of yours is going to kill you one day.”

Jarrah chuckled and touched his bottle to Ryder’s. “This from a man who’s been shot six times, had his leg blown off, and spent the last ten years dodging bullets and IEDs while crawling through the Middle East’s top tourist destinations.”

“At least I made it back here before it was too late. You’re still trying to escape.” Ryder studied him over his bottle as he brought it to his lips.

If his brother hadn’t been so right, Jarrah might’ve been justified in punching the smart-arse in the gut. All he could do was mutter a curse and drown his sorrows.

Ryder had been destined for the military. From the time the three Harper boys had been old enough to think about the future, there’d only been one place the ogre was headed. But unlike his war-hero brother, Jarrah hadn’t even known where he was escaping to, let alone why. He was just desperate to see if the grass was actually greener on the other side of the desert. Brisbane University and its scholarship program had seemed as good a place as any to figure out whether the big city legends were true.

Jarrah lowered his bottle and nodded to the auburn-haired fireball belting out a horrendous ballad with Kira, Maddie, and Jeddah providing equally painful backup vocals. “Any second thoughts?”

Ryder’s grin confirmed what Jarrah and everyone else who’d seen Abi and him together had known from the very beginning. Destiny and the universe had conspired to bring them together. It was the only way to explain how an elementary school teacher from L.A. and a soldier from a tiny one kangaroo town in the middle of the Aussie Outback could’ve found each other.

Jarrah groaned and backhanded Ryder but happiness and a healthy dose of jealousy robbed the blow of any real venom. “What’s it feel like?”

Ryder continued gazing at his girl while taking a long sip from his beer and swallowing. “Everything suddenly makes sense.” Ryder shrugged. “I’m guessing it’s because nothing else matters. Where you live, what you do, how powerful you are, how much money you have, whether you live or die.” His brother paused and turned to him. “Nothing matters because there’s only her.”

A week ago, Jarrah would’ve told his brother to book a CAT scan to locate the shrapnel still lodged in his brain. All he could do now was slowly nod and take a sip from the beer he no longer tasted.

Olivia’s laughter rippled through the girls’ encore as she clapped and cheered from her perch atop one of the tables alongside his mother, Ethan, and most of the single men still conscious and able to stand. There was no way he should’ve heard her among the caterwauling, but her voice had him searching her out like a trained Labrador.

He’d made the mistake of touching her earlier in the night and had been doing his damnedest not to even look at her since, because whatever remained of his self-control was fading almost as quickly as his desire for privacy. But keeping his hands off her while every eligible bachelor within a two-hundred-kilometer radius had a crack at her was driving him nuts. She didn’t belong to him. Hell, they hadn’t even had a chance to really discuss what, if anything, they had going on, yet that did little to calm the caveman lurking inside him.

“You figured out what you’re going to do about her?”

Ryder’s words hit him like a slow-motion punch to the face. Jarrah snapped around only to find his brother calmly sipping his beer and taking in the festivities.

He turned back to the crowd as his mind scrambled for balance, but it was too late. If Ryder hadn’t known something was going on between Olivia and him, he sure as hell knew now. Because only a freaking idiot with half his mind concentrating on not stalking the woman he couldn’t stop thinking about and the other half focusing on what he was hoping to do to her when they were finally alone could’ve fallen for such a simple trap.

Jarrah sighed and shook his head. “No fucking idea.”

It was almost a relief to hear the words dribble from his mouth. He loved each and every member of his crazy family with everything he had. However, the only person who’d have the faintest idea of what he was going through would be his brother. Instead of offering a supportive slap on the back or sage words of wisdom, his idiot brother almost choked to death laughing.

Jarrah pounded on Ryder’s back under the pretense of saving the arsehole’s life before his brother shrugged him off. With each passing second, the humor drained from Ryder’s face while his eyes speared straight into Jarrah’s. “She’s special.”

No fucking shit. She was the most special woman he’d ever met. Any idiot who’d met her would’ve figured that out. Jarrah cursed and nodded. “Is this where you warn me not to hurt her because you’ll rip my arms off and beat me to death with them?”

Ryder chuckled and shook his head. “She can take care of herself. I’m more worried about my moron big brother fucking up the chance of a lifetime by worrying about shit that doesn’t matter and overthinking everything.”

Jarrah met Ryder’s raised eyebrow with one of his own, and that was where his counterassault stalled. The only way he’d been able to stop thinking about getting Olivia naked had been to run through plan after plan of how he and the woman currently screeching into the night could be together without it ending in flames. Giving up, he turned back to the crowd and drained his beer in a pathetic attempt to escape his brother’s gaze.

Ryder reached over and pried the empty beer out of his hand before patting his shoulder. “And if you hurt her I’ll rip off your arms and beat you to death with them.”