THEY WERE PAINTING the front of the house when Carly arrived the next afternoon. As she drove down the gravel driveway, she watched them work, man and boy side by side. Owen was dressed in an old paint-splattered T-shirt and denim cut-offs. Mason wore a white Mr Happy T-shirt and yellow shorts.
Owen said something to his son that she couldn’t hear, but the boy looked up, beamed at his dad and chuckled. Then Owen put down his paint brush, picked Mason up and threw him over his shoulder. He jogged in a circle, with the child screaming, giggling and waving his paint brush in the air, then put him down.
Most people would have been worried about the splashes of white paint on the ground. But not Owen. He just cared about making his son happy.
Her heart constricted. Yesterday had been intense and wonderful, a surprise and a gift. But they hadn’t discussed what happened now. Were they neighbours with benefits? Friends? Temporary lovers?
What, exactly?
Feeling a little unsure about it all, she climbed out of the truck and pasted on a smile. ‘Hi, guys!’
‘Hi, Carly.’ Grinning, Mason waved his paint brush again while Owen’s slow grin was almost too lazy and sexy for words. She took in the muscled arms that had held her tight as he’d entered her, the mouth that had given her so much pleasure, and her body hummed for more. So, part of her question was answered. They were two single people who’d had consensual sex and they both wanted to do it again. Why put more of a label on it than that?
‘Where do you want me to put this?’ Trying to rein in her libido, she pointed to the bright orange double kayak strapped to the flat bed of her truck. ‘I saved the best one for you two. The rest are up on the marketplace website. Four have sold already.’
‘It’s a beauty.’ Owen sauntered over, looking simply delicious as he wiped his hands on a towel. ‘Let’s put it in the shed. Mason, are you okay waiting here for a few minutes while I help Carly?’
The boy nodded, serious again and concentrating on his work. ‘Sure, Dad.’
‘Don’t go anywhere. Just paint that corner. You’re doing a great job, mate.’
Carly’s heart jittered. It was all well and good for her to want sex again, but did he? Had he had second thoughts? Did he regret what they’d done?
But as soon as they’d put the kayak on the ground he was in front of her, toying with a curl of her hair, running it through his fingers, his eyes searching her face. ‘Hey, you.’
‘Hey, you.’ Her heart hammered and her body tugged towards him as she played with the hem of his T-shirt.
‘Come here.’ He wrapped an arm round her waist and dragged her closer, kissing her deeply, and she felt exactly how much he wanted her.
But she reluctantly pulled away, her hand on his chest. His heart beat hard and fast like hers. ‘What about Mason?’
‘True.’ Owen grimaced and turned to look at the open doorway. ‘He’s very quiet.’
‘Is that a good thing? Or bad?’
‘You can never tell with kids. But usually bad.’ Smiling, he slipped his hand into hers and squeezed. Then he let go and strode out into the sunshine. Mason was still in the same place, painting the corner, his tongue jutting out in concentration just like his father’s had.
Her heart swooped. ‘Good job, Mason. You’re an expert painter.’
‘Thank you, Carly.’ He beamed up at her. ‘Can we go kayaking now?’
She caught Owen’s eye and raised her eyebrows in question. He shook his head. ‘Not today, champ. It’s getting late, and it’s dinner time soon.’
A cue to leave. But her feet seemed reluctant to turn her round and walk her back to the truck. She forced out a lame, ‘I’ll leave you to it, then.’
Owen met her eyes and smiled secretively. ‘You want to stay for dinner? It’s nothing special, just sausages and a bit of salad and bread.’
‘Man food,’ Mason said, and showed her his arm muscles.
‘Is that what Daddy calls sausages? Well, I like them too. So, it’s also girl food.’ She showed him her guns and Mason ran over to squeeze them. ‘Wow. You’re strong.’
She wished she was, she really did. Was she strong enough to go on her trip? To leave this new friendship, leave everything she knew? She sighed. ‘Okay, I’ll stay for dinner. But only because you’re serving my favourite girl food, and only on the condition that I do the washing up.’
It was almost a rerun of the first time she’d stayed for dinner...partly because Mason insisted on marshmallows by the fire again, and partly because they were both so welcoming. Mason tripped off tales about kindy and his friends and more about Wallace the weka.
Carly laughed at the bird’s apparent antics. ‘And is she still waking you up every morning?’
‘He hasn’t been able to break down our hardy defences so far.’ Owen’s expression was a mixture of humour, surprise and censure. Clearly, he hadn’t confessed the bird gender confusion to his son.
‘It’s only a matter of time before she...er...he does.’ She giggled at their shared joke.
Shared. Her throat felt scratchy at the thought of leaving these people she’d become so fond of.
‘Right. I’ll go clear up.’ She washed the dishes in the newly decorated kitchen while Owen put Mason to bed. He’d done a great job of sprucing up the place and had even added some soft furnishings that made the house more homely. That was surprising for a guy. She could hear him reading a bedtime story as she flicked the switch for the kettle.
This was all feeling very cosy. He’d called it mundane and small, but wasn’t giving a child a secure and stable upbringing one of the most amazing things a parent could do? Even though Mason’s mum wasn’t around, he had the safety and love of his father. It was home. It was a family—something she’d had a brief taste of and had loved.
But now... No, she couldn’t move into this heart space. She had to create something for herself.
There was no denying she ached to stay here just a little longer, but was that just because she was wobbling about her plans? About stepping into the unknown?
She was reaching to put the plates in a high cupboard when she felt a kiss on her neck, arms circling her waist. A hard erection pressed against her bottom. She whirled round and caught Owen’s mouth in a searing kiss.
‘You smell so good,’ she managed as she pulled away, her body straining for his touch all over.
He laughed. ‘Mason’s bath bubbles?’
‘No. Something else. Something that makes me...’
He held her arms by her sides as he looked at her, his eyes misted and heat shimmering there. ‘Horny?’
She giggled. ‘Yes.’
‘You could stay.’
What? A pause. Maybe he read the confusion on her face because he followed it up with a quick, ‘The night, I mean.’
‘Oh. No. I shouldn’t.’ For a moment she’d thought he was asking something else. But...no. He knew her plans.
His fingers tiptoed to the back of her neck and he stroked the sensitive skin there. ‘Do you have to be back at the camp tonight?’
‘Well...no.’ She inhaled a stuttering breath as his fingers trailed down her back. God, that felt good. ‘The school teachers are very capable and experienced, and they know how to contact me in an emergency. I have my bleeper.’
‘Which I hope remains silent.’ He lifted her hair and kissed her neck, making her shudder in delight.
Her determination to leave melted away. Just one touch and she was his. ‘I can stay a while, but perhaps it’ll be better if I don’t sleep over.’
‘Stay, Carly.’ He kissed down her spine and across her shoulder. ‘I want to wake up with you.’
Oh, what a lovely idea. What a wonderfully amazing idea. But no. She turned and captured his mouth in a kiss. She would stay a while. She would leave in the middle of the night. No need for any concerns. No need for questions.
No damage to anyone. Just a lot of fun...while it lasted.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
What the hell...?
Someone was doing Morse Code in Carly’s bedroom. She opened an eye and took in the dark drapes, the fingers of yellow light streaming through the gaps. Took in the sleeping body next to her with his arm slung casually over her hip. The unfamiliar shapes of furniture she hadn’t chosen.
No. Not her bedroom.
She jerked upright. Hell. After an amazing night of lovemaking, she’d fallen asleep in his arms and now it was morning.
‘Shoo. Get out. Get out!’ she whispered at the weka that was tapping the wooden floor.
‘Again? How the hell did he get in?’ A bleary-eyed Owen rose up next to her. ‘What time is it?’
Carly glanced at the clock over on Owen’s bedside table. Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no. ‘It’s seven-seventeen.’
A string of curse words rose inside her and she put her hand to her mouth to hold them back.
‘What?’ Owen bounded out of bed. ‘Damn it. I am so late.’
Suddenly aware of her nakedness, and also suddenly shy, she grabbed the top sheet and wrapped it round her—as if he hadn’t just spent hours caressing and kissing every inch of her—while she scrambled from the bed to find her clothes, keeping her voice a hoarse whisper. ‘I have never slept in in my life. I wake at six every morning. I don’t need an alarm clock.’
‘Me neither, I usually have Mason to wake me at way too early o’clock and, well, I’d thought I’d got rid of Wallace.’ He quietly shooed the bird out of the door she’d sworn they’d closed last night, just in case Mason felt like wandering in while they were...
‘Mason.’ Her gut tied in a knot as she wrestled with her underwear. Someone seriously needed to invent bras that were easy to put on in hurry. ‘What if he sees me?’
Owen came over and crouched on his haunches in front of her. He put his hand on her knee, warm and steady. His eyes were soft and kind, although she detected some panic there too. ‘Calm down, sweetheart. I’m sure he won’t.’
Sweetheart. Her heart squeezed at the endearment. Meanwhile, her head was full of panic and images of facing that poor little boy and trying to explain...what? That it was all only temporary. That she was leaving, just like his mum had. Her gut roiled at how that would make him feel. ‘What if he does?’
‘Then we’ll...’ Owen scraped his hand through his hair as he thought. ‘Tell him you slept in the spare room.’
‘Okay. Right. Great idea, Owen. The spare room that doesn’t have a bed in it.’ She dragged on her T-shirt and tucked it into her shorts.
But Owen just shook his head. ‘We just play it cool, okay? If we don’t make a big deal out of it, he won’t.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Honestly? No. But what’s done is done. We’ll deal with it.’
He sounded certain but he looked a little shaken. She was not doing this again. She wasn’t going to compromise Owen’s position as a father or Mason’s little heart. Or sneak around like some sort of scarlet woman. She hadn’t done anything wrong, but it wasn’t fair on any of them.
She hurriedly finished dressing and tiptoed across the bedroom, hopping on each foot as she slipped her sneakers on one at a time. But she overstepped and landed heavily with a thud.
‘Easy does it.’ Owen was quickly by her side, helping her up. ‘I’ve never seen you like this before.’
‘I’ve never slept in before.’
What she actually meant was, I’ve never had to navigate this and I don’t know what to do. Because half of me wants to wake up in this house with this man every morning. And half of me is filled with very real panic about disturbing a sleeping child...about giving everyone including myself false hope. About falling more deeply. And falling and falling...
‘I hope I didn’t wake him.’
They both stood stock-still and held their breath for a beat. Two. Owen whispered against her throat, ‘See? He’s fast asleep. You can make your escape.’ Then he grabbed her backside and squeezed. ‘Man, I love your short shorts.’
‘Stop it!’ she hissed, whacking away his hand as laughter bubbled from her throat, because surely she was overreacting? She gingerly pulled the door open and crept out.
But the laughter died in her throat as a tired little boy in stripy pyjamas wandered along the corridor, rubbing his eyes. He was suddenly alert the moment he recognised Carly and he ran towards her. ‘Carly!’
Damn.
She shoved her hands into her pockets and tried to act as if she hadn’t just had a lot of fabulous sex with his father. ‘Hey, Mason.’
‘Did you have a sleepover, like I did at Mia’s?’
Heart rattling, she glanced over at Owen. He nodded. ‘Sure she did. It’s great fun, isn’t it?’
She bugged her eyes at him, but then remembered they weren’t making a big deal out of it. ‘But now I have to go.’
‘Stay for breakfast, Carly?’ Mason frowned. ‘Can we have pancakes, Daddy?’
‘It’ll take too much time, buddy. We’re running a bit late today and I need to grab a shower and have a shave before work.’
The little boy’s face crumpled. ‘Can I show Carly my trains?’
‘Another day, bud.’ Owen ruffled his son’s hair, but Mason slumped down on the floor in a sulk. Owen crouched down and jollied him along. ‘Maybe later? Or tomorrow? Or something. We’ve got to a get a wriggle on this morning. How about you get dressed? Then I’ll fix some toast.’
‘No.’ Mason folded his arms.
‘Come on, mate. We’ve got to get a move on.’ A note of frustration had slid into Owen’s voice. ‘It’s getting late.’
Carly watched this all play out and her gut tightened. She’d seen first-hand with Mia and Harper how hard it was to be a solo parent, especially when time was limited. She also knew, from dealing with hundreds of kids herself, that getting all het up with them was unlikely to smooth things over.
Since this was all her fault, she needed to give him a hand. ‘Can I do anything to help?’
Owen huffed out a breath of relief and smiled at her. ‘Thanks, that would be great. Would you mind giving him a hand to get dressed while I get breakfast on?’
‘Sure thing.’ She offered her hand to Mason. ‘Come on, champ. Let’s get you ready for the day.’
The little boy’s bedroom was bright and airy. Fresh pale blue paint covered the walls. He had a red racing car bed, a set of drawers and a little desk, shelves loaded with books and two large wooden chests she imagined were filled with toys. Owen had done a fine job of creating the perfect little boy’s bedroom.
She pulled open a drawer, looking for clothes. ‘What are you going to wear today, Mason?’
He sauntered over and picked out a blue T-shirt and grey shorts.
After he took off his PJs she helped him into the T-shirt and then bent down and held the shorts so he could step into them.
He put his hand on her shoulder as he put one foot in and then the other. ‘Are you going to sleep over tonight too?’
‘No, honey. I don’t think I’ll be sleeping over again.’ She definitely wouldn’t.
‘Aww. Please.’
She scanned the room to find something to distract him. Over on the desk was a drawing pad and some crayons. From a distance she could see a picture on one of the pieces of paper. She wandered over. ‘Hey, what’s this?’
He grinned his mischievous grin. ‘I drawed you a picture.’
‘Oh? That’s kind. When did you do this?’
He shrugged. ‘Don’t know. After kindy.’
‘What is it?’ She could make out some rudimentary round shapes making up a number of people with circle arms and legs and tufty lines for hair.
He pointed to two small circle figures. ‘My family. That’s me and daddy.’
Ah. A stabbing pain lanced her chest.
‘Who’s that?’ In the top corner, far from the little family of two, was another circle figure.
He ran his finger over it. ‘Mummy. She’s holding a tablet and talking to me from ’Merica.’
Poor, poor kid. Her heart stung at his words. But at least Miranda had been included in the picture, and at least Mason still spoke to her, even if he didn’t get regular Mum hugs.
She looked closer at the picture and saw another figure next to the little boy wearing a crudely coloured-in blue top, very similar to that of her work uniform. She thought she might know exactly who it was, but didn’t want him to say the words. She turned away, her throat suddenly tight and raw.
But he grabbed her hand and tugged her round. His stubby finger traced over the unnamed figure. ‘That’s you.’
She stared at the picture, trying to make sense of it and trying to work out the scramble of emotions clogging her chest. My family. What the hell? How could something so innocent hurt her heart so much? She cleared her throat and nodded. Do not cry. Do not cry. ‘That’s nice.’
‘Will you be my mummy too?’ He looked up at her with huge, pleading eyes.
She straightened and started to make his bed just for something to do, so she wouldn’t have to look at him. ‘You have a mummy already, Mason.’
‘My friend Tane has two mummies. I want two mummies. I want you.’
She squeezed her eyes shut and counted slowly to five, trying to gain some composure. She hadn’t wanted this.
Or, rather, hadn’t known she wanted this deep down. Hell, she’d been him once—a child with no mother at home. She knew how desperate he might be feeling. But, even so, she couldn’t be this little fella’s mother. Hell, she didn’t know anything about parenthood. Sure, she was a good teacher, she knew how to interest and excite kids about being in nature. But real stuff...day-to-day stuff? Routine and boundaries...?
And a mother? How could she be a mother when she was exploring Vietnam? When she was hiking the Camino in Spain?
When she opened her eyes, she saw Owen standing in the doorway. His face was ashen, his expression one she couldn’t read.
She swallowed and turned back to Mason, caught between the two and not knowing what to say to either of them. ‘Um. You have a mummy who loves you very much. One is good. I mean, two is fine, but I can’t be your mummy, Mason...’ Nerves were making her babble. She had to get out of here before anything else happened. Such as breaking down in tears or her heart breaking. ‘I...um... I have to go now.’
‘Take it.’ Mason held the picture out to her.
She glanced at Owen, then at his son. Then she took the picture in trembling hands. ‘Thank you.’
She reckoned she could be in her truck in about three seconds, if she ran. Which was what she felt like doing. But she couldn’t. Owen was staring at her. Mason was looking at her as if waiting for more, wanting more. Wanting what she couldn’t give him.
‘Bye!’ Panic got the better of her and she dashed outside, where she gulped in fresh air, hoping it would calm her down.
It didn’t. She was rattled. Panicked. What confusion had she caused in that poor little boy by her selfish behaviour? She’d wanted to make love with Owen. She’d wanted to bask in his attention, to fill her need. But at what cost to Mason? To her own heart?
She ran to her truck and dragged the door open. As she was climbing in, she heard Owen’s voice behind her. ‘God, Carly. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he was going to draw that.’
She looked up and saw his hair all ruffled from their lovemaking—and no doubt from a good deal of scrubbing his hand through it, trying to explain things to Mason.
She put her hand to her chest, more to calm her racing heart than anything. ‘What did we expect, though? All this time spent together, camping, kayaking. Being friends. Being close. He must have seen you being...happy.’ Because, yes, they’d both fed a need. Last night was the closest she’d been to happy in a long time.
She put her head on the steering wheel. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’