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BEFORE MOBILE SIGNAL, hand-held devices or takeaway coffees
“Happy New Year, darlin’.” Morton pulled on black leather gloves and picked up his helmet. “Remember, if you’re ever in Stonecrest Bay, come look me up.”
“You bet,” Beth lied. She grazed her teeth over her bottom lip while watching him tuck his long wavy hair into his helmet. A trip to Western Australia was akin to joining NASA and flying on the shuttle.
Never going to happen.
He, and his band of brothers, fired up their bikes and Main Street came alive to the low, throaty roar that had heralded their arrival late yesterday afternoon. Simpson’s Flat was the last place on earth she’d want to spend New Year’s Eve, but the strangers on their cross-country motorbike ride didn’t know that.
When she’d heard the roar yesterday, she’d run to the front window to watch them pass, the vibration in the glass passing through her hand, down her arm and lodging deep in her core.
A primal rumble that made it hard to swallow.
Hard to breathe.
Strangers.
Before she knew it, her jeans had come off, and she’d pulled out the sparkly minidress her mother hated so much and the only pair of heels she owned, and she’d hurried over to the pub.
Normally, the pub was a bit like the town.
Dead.
But with the bikers in town, it was standing room only in the bar. The dance floor was a seething mass of bodies, rocking out to heavy metal from the jukebox.
Half the town were there, welcoming the visitors. Her momentary guilt over ditching Aunty Jean’s annual bonfire and barbeque vanished.
She’d danced, she’d laughed, she’d drunk champagne for the first time. She met new friends and reconnected with others. As the clock had counted down to midnight, she’d farewelled a year she’d rather forget.
No looking back.
And, true to her freshly made resolution to get the most out of life, she’d kept partying long after the few illegal fireworks had lit up the midnight sky.
Standing on the sidewalk, her strappy heels dangling from her fingers, she smiled at the memory of the best night in her life so far.
“Bye darlin’.” Morton winked, then flipped down his visor.
Beth touched her lips, still swollen from his kisses, and stood silently as the convoy snaked its way out of town, heading west.
She stared at the road long after the last rider disappeared into the cloud of dust at the first bend, until the distant roar faded, and all she could hear was Bear barking behind her, and the birds.
Morton was gone.
Taking with him two things she’d never expected to give—her virginity, and a piece of her heart.
Fifteen Years Later
“Done.” Beth Taranga hung the last of her macramé wall hangings and planters, then grabbed her phone. She backed up and waited for a clear shot, then took a couple of photos. Tied in Knots, Stonecrest Bay’s newest market stall, was officially open for business.
“Looks good.”
Beth spun around.
Wow.
Was there no end to the beachy cowboy goodness in this town? Chiselled jaw, designer stubble, tight faded denim, boots.
Eyes up.
North of the belt buckle, remember?
But the view above the waist was just as mouth-watering as that below. Black T-shirt, black Akubra, muscled forearms.
Concentrate.
“Thanks. Not bad for my first attempt.”
Her across-the-lane neighbour smiled. “I’m even more impressed.”
Beth glanced back over her shoulder at her stall, hours and hours of work, and she couldn’t help but grin.
She’d done it.
She’d actually done it.
Her hard work was finally out there. Her heart raced and it took all of her energy not to start skipping in a circle. A wave of giddiness washed over her and she closed her eyes.
You’ve got this.
Her flip-flopping stomach disagreed with her.
Beth forced herself to look past him to his stall. Old wooden crates had been stacked side on in a rough semi-circle, and spaced to form nooks of all different sizes. Each held a different piece of art made from reclaimed scrap; farming supplies, old timber fence posts, wire and branches. They’d been repurposed into instantly recognisable views from the district; farmyard animals, windmills, tractors and huts. “I love these. They’re so Western Australia. Your work?”
He nodded. “Yep.” He stepped closer to her then turned back to his display. A subtle whiff of tangy aftershave, and wood shavings hit her. And something else that turned her mouth dry and her insides to mush.
Beth risked another peek. Sun-bleached locks, a few shades lighter than the hint of stubble that shadowed his jaw, peeked out from under the Akubra.
Focus on the art.
Her gaze drifted to the faded denim encased buttocks hovering in her peripheral vision.
The actual art.
“You’ve created some awesome pieces.” She squashed the urge to go over and look a little closer, maybe find something for her new place. Today was about making money, not spending it.
“You’re new in town?” He grinned, and his gaze lingered on her.
Beth smoothed her hair, ran her tongue over her lips.
Maybe, today wasn’t only going to be about the money?
“How’d you know?”
“It’s WA, not Western Australia.” He grinned. “Nick.” He held out his hand. “Nick Morton.”
Morton?
She gave his hand a quick shake, and an inky haze clouded her vision. She locked her knees and blinked rapidly as her insta-mush stomach flipped its last flop. She drew in a huge breath, then blew it out again.
Woah. Déjà vu.
Could it be him? What were the chances after all these years?
Pushing her sunnies up on the bridge of her nose, she tried not to be obvious as she stared a little closer.
No, her Morton was first name Morton. Last name, unknown. And he’d been inked on his forearm.
She snuck another look.
Nick’s forearms were smooth, and muscly. Tanned and sexy. He’d never been inked.
It wasn’t him.
Her shoulders dropped and she pressed her lips together.
Stop being ridiculous.
She wasn’t ever going to run into chrome and leather bad-boy Morton.
Logically, she knew that. A thorough search of social media when she’d arrived had turned up no-one even close. She gave herself a mental shake.
“Beth Taranga, new in the bay, ex the middle of nowhere, New South Wales.” Until she’d moved over from the east coast, she hadn’t realised the subtle differences between east and west.
She’d expected red dirt and mining.
She hadn’t expected boutique wineries, cheese makers and crafters. Stonecrest Bay was as much about an experience for the senses as it was a place to get more provisions before heading out prospecting, or to work in the mines.
“Big move.” Nick commented.
“Yeah.” The drive across the Nullarbor, with only what she could fit in her car, was still fresh in her mind. “Simpson’s Flat is a triangular shaped town at the intersection of three roads, population five hundred and falling. It’s an ex-mining town, but the ground’s been picked clean. Not a real lot left for the young ones now.”
“Listen to you.” Nick laughed. “The young ones.”
“I used to work at the pub. I reckon it aged me double,” she laughed.
And then some.
He skimmed his gaze over her. “Doesn’t look like it to me.”
Beth’s skin tingled. She was used to working at the pub, used to being subject to lewd gazes, used to wanting to wrap herself in a blanket to stop the unwanted attention.
But that wasn’t the vibe she was getting from Nick.
Was he interested? In her?
The idea was so ludicrous, she dismissed it out of hand. “Uh, thanks. What about you? Lived here long?”
“All my adult life. Did fly in, fly out for a while. But I’m doing this now.” He gestured to his stall. “Want to do a bit of cross promo?”
“Okay.” It was hard to feel like the new kid on the block with Nick.
He pointed to one of the hangers in her stall. “May I?”
She nodded.
Nick went to get the hanger off its hook, but it tangled with its neighbour. Beth leapt into action, knowing full well what could happen when the long tails on the macramé tangled. Their fingers touched, sending a tingle of awareness up her arm. “Sorry,” she mumbled.
“No worries. I’ve got this.” Nick smiled, freed the hanger and returned to his stall. He went behind the wall of crates and grabbed a small wooden pot surround, hollowed out from a log. Then he grabbed a small potted fern off the display.
Seconds later, plant and pot surround were in the hanger and hanging from his stall.
“Right, now yours.” He eyed off the wall hanging she’d only completed yesterday. The foundation was a branch, almost an inch thick, with an interesting curve. Hanging from it, the cord was knotted in two waves, with the loose ends left hanging. He took a good look at the piece then returned to his stall. He bent, and Beth’s mouth dried as she caught another glimpse of firm male buttocks in faded denim before he straightened with one of his windmills.
He set it down below her wall hanging, then inched it to the left. “Perfect. The key is to plant it in the minds of our customers that we’re not in competition, our works are complementary. That way, it’s two sales.”
“Or no sales?” The forced economy that came from living in a drought-stricken, dying town raised its ugly head.
“It should be a great day. There’s a bus tour coming in off one of the cruise ships. Always a good day when the cruisers are in town.”
“Nice.” The tiny spiral bound notebook in her pocket detailing all of her ex’s debts nearly vibrated in celebration.
Dog walking. House sitting. Hospitality. Babysitting. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do now. Her ex’s name might be mud in Simpson’s Flat, but hers wasn’t going to be. She’d pay every single person back.
Eventually.
Maybe then she’d be able to walk down the street in her hometown again.
Maybe.
Don’t look back. You’re not going that way.
She gave herself a little shake. “That looks awesome. Thank you.” She checked her watch. “We open at seven? I set up early so I’d have plenty of time to watch the sunrise over the ocean before the crowds came, then I realised there is no sunrise over the ocean here.” She laughed a little self-consciously. “I’d only been to the beach once before moving here, and the sunrises were exceptional.”
“We’ve got the sunsets, and that’s even better. You can’t sit on the beach with a glass of wine and watch the sunrise now, can you?”
The thought of sitting on a picnic blanket with Nick, sipping wine and watching the sunset made her heart skip a beat, then flutter a million miles an hour.
Then her imagination went rogue.
Lying back.
Snuggling under a blanket.
Skin on skin.
Stop that. There were so many reasons why she shouldn’t be thinking about Nick Morton that way.
***
NICK COULDN’T STOP watching Beth Taranga, the dynamo with the pixie haircut and the fringed vest. As she moved, straightening her works, the vest literally came alive as her movement rippled through the variegated cord. Painstaking design or luck, he wasn’t sure. Either way, he was having trouble looking away. Or staying away. Normally, he didn’t leave the stall but today he kept gravitating over towards Beth.
“Listen, I’d die for a coffee. You want one?”
Beth stilled and turned. “Sounds like heaven, but is there anywhere here to get one? I don’t want to leave all this.”
“Coffee van’s up near the entrance. Make you a deal. You watch mine and I’ll get us a coffee.”
“Okay.” She dug into the knotted purse sitting on her hip. “I’ll have a cappuccino. One sugar.”
“My shout.” He waved her money away and watched her graze her teeth over her lip, waves of uncertainty washing off her.
“You can get the next one,” he reassured her before he strode off towards the food vans.
His timing couldn’t have been better. No sooner had he returned with their coffees, then the cruise ship delivered several busloads of tourists to the seafront oval.
Peak hour had arrived at the market.
His half-formed plan for a quiet ‘sit and get to know you’ with Beth went out the window, along with any chance of drinking his coffee while it was hot. It wasn’t just the tourists. Beth’s stall attracted locals in droves, and before long he wondered how many wall hangings and planters Beth had made, as he watched tourists and locals of all ages leaving with them.
Apparently, macramé was in.
Who knew?
And it wasn’t just Beth doing a roaring trade. His pieces were flying off his shelves as well. A retired nurse from Ohio fell in love with the combination of Beth’s wall hanging and his windmill. They also boxed up the plant pot and hanger for three siblings from Texas who’d pooled their pocket money to buy their mom a birthday present.
As the clock inched toward midday, their sales became fewer and fewer, and just before twelve the mass exodus to the buses began.
“That,” Beth pointed to the departing tourists, “was awesome.”
“Best day I’ve had in a while.” His phone beeped, and he excused himself and checked the message. “Hey, want an old-fashioned lemonade? Old Mr and Mrs Russo have the farm out on Beach Road, and they make and sell home-made lemonade. Mrs Russo’s grandmother’s recipe. Got some friends picking me up one.”
“Oh, sounds fabulous. I’m parched.” Beth licked her lips and it was as if she’d crashed through his armour and punched him in the chest. Beth Taranga with her big brown eyes and pixie cut, was beautiful. He stared at her and took a few deep breaths. It was a very long time since a woman had affected his senses in this way.
Way too long.
He was all thumbs as he replied to Dee’s text.
A few minutes later Dee and Abbey came wandering down Artisan’s Way, Abbey carrying a tray of lemonades in old fashioned glass tankards with striped straws, and Dee pulling a covered garden cart. They were both in jeans and boots, Stonecrest Bay’s unofficial weekend uniform. Abbey was rocking a straw cowboy hat, her long blond hair in a single plait over her shoulder. Dee’s hair was loose, the chestnut strands whipping around her face as she walked. She changed arms every few metres as she pulled the cart.
Nick turned to Beth and said, “Be right back. That wagon’s heavy.”
He smiled as he walked over to his friends. He liked that Dee had found a good friend in Abbey, her new groomer at the salon. He and Dee had been mates since primary school, and she’d been friends with Gemma before she’d died.
And Paul.
A shiver worked its way down his spine at the memory of his brother and his wife, both taken in the one accident.
Gone too soon.
He closed his eyes at the memory.
He and Dee had grieved together. And it had brought them closer together as friends.
Mrs Russo, with her wizened face and her ‘free’ lemonades had been there the whole time, a friend when they’d needed it most. He hated thinking about those days, but every time he came to the markets, he had a lemonade. Even if it was a struggle to get Mrs Russo to accept any money.
He stopped in front of Dee. “I’ll take that.”
“Thanks, Nick.”
“That’s right, help her, you ungrateful yob,” Abbey teased as he took control of the wagon. “It’s not like these are light?” The tankards of lemonade wobbled precariously.
Dee roared with laughter and helped herself to one of the drinks. “Everything’s good back there,” she gestured to the wagon. “Dad’s happy with everyone, including mumma, and he’s vaccinated the pups again this morning.”
“Great.”
They stopped in front of his stall, and Nick started to introduce Beth to Dee and Abbey.
“Oh, hi Beth.” Dee passed Beth a lemonade. “I heard about the new kick-arse stall at the markets, but I didn’t realise it was you.”
“Yep, it’s me.” Beth turned to Nick. “I met Dee the other day when I dropped into the salon to drop off some fliers. When I’m not tying myself up in knots, I’m a dog walker and sitter. Dee, thanks for the leads the other day. I appreciate it.” Beth took a long sip of the lemonade. “Oh, that is good.”
Everyone agreed, and for a second the group was silent as they drank.
Dee finished hers and put her empty back on the tray. “Nick, we got the fliers done this morning too.” She turned to Beth. “Don’t suppose you want a puppy?”
Beth choked on her lemonade. “A puppy?”
“We all volunteer for Stonecrest Bay Animal Rescue, or SBAR for short,” Abbey explained. “Nick’s been helping us with one of our mumma dogs. Dee and I took our doggy family over to the vet surgery this morning to get their check-ups.” She pulled a flier from her bag and held it up, so Nick and Beth could read it.
“Giveaway puppies, cattle dog cross, 12 weeks old. Apply within,” Beth read aloud. “Hmmh, a puppy.”
Nick, Dee and Abbey exchanged excited glances. They’d worked in rescue for a while now, and that was the voice of precontemplation.
Maybe rehoming the seven wiggly puppies who were unexpectedly calling his place home wasn’t going to be as hard as he’d imagined.
***
“RIGHT.” DEE COLLECTED all the tankards. “Four o’clock this afternoon for triple S?”
Was this another Western Australian thing? Beth looked from Nick to the others and finally asked, “What’s triple S?”
“Suds, snags and smiles.” Dee, Abbey and Nick all spoke at the same time.
“There’s a weekly meetup at the beach for the local dog owners. We take the hydrobath down and for a gold coin donation the rescue volunteers will wash your sandy dog. We have a sausage sizzle, a bit of local music. Lots of smiles.” Dee grinned. “Want to come?”
“I’d love to.” Beth didn’t hesitate. “But doesn’t that affect you at the salon?” The Funny Bone was Stonecrest Bay’s only dog grooming salon.
“You’d think, but it’s just the opposite. We get repeat business at the salon from people we first meet at the beach.” She paused. “But more importantly, the more dogs we wash down at the beach, the more dogs we can help on their rescue journey.”
“It’s loads of fun.” Abbey chimed in. “More if you’re comfortable getting wet.”
“You only get wet once,” Dee laughed. “Then you’re wet.”
It did sound like fun. A chance to meet new people, help the dogs. And, the added benefit was the more people she met, the more dog sitting she’d be able to do. And right now, the more she earned, the sooner she’d be free of her ex and his deceptions. And all the people he’d conned, that she needed to pay.
She took a big breath and said, “I’ll see you at four.”
“Great.” Dee and Abbey turned to leave. “See you at four.”
Two o’clock, and the close of the market, rolled around all too soon. Beth’s larger wall hangings had sold, and all that remained were a few of the smaller ones, a few plant hangers and bookmarks. She hadn’t counted properly, but she was pretty sure she had enough cash to pay the account at the produce store cum petrol station back home.
At least then, if she did ever end up back at Simpson’s Flat, they’d let her fill the car up.
“You’ve done well.” Nick wrestled one of the sculptures into a crate.
“I know.” Excitement bubbled in her chest. “The cruisers bought heaps. How about you?”
“Yeah, not bad. All little pieces today, anything that would fit in their luggage.”
Beth finished loading her car and dithered for a second. She didn’t really want to leave. Talking with Nick had left her hungry for more, but her small taste of success made her realise she needed to get knotting, and also find out when the next cruise ship was due. She didn’t have the luxury of being able to dally, not if she was going to spend the afternoon and the evening out as well. “Thanks for this morning. It was great.”
Yet, even though she was ready to go, she didn’t leave.
A strange emptiness descended, leaving her flat.
Nick was still packing up and she wandered over to the cart, which he’d parked in the shade. The tiniest of whimpers came from inside and she couldn’t resist.
She peeped in and her heart nearly exploded.
She put a hand to her chest and watched as the mumma dog lazily opened one eye and regarded her. There was a tiny bit of movement in the puppies, but they stayed asleep. She covered them back over and stood, blinking back the tears.
Nick walked over, and it hit her what it was she’d smelt earlier. Puppy smell. That sweet, wholesome scent that made sensible adults do things they shouldn’t.
Like adopting baby puppies.
“Do you want to see some photos? Lucy’s done a great job, if I do say so myself.”
“Lucy, I like that. It suits her.” She smiled. “You sound just like a proud daddy.”
He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Well I am. Lucy was found at the truck stop a few months ago. Skinny as, she was. Scared too. Brought her home to start fattening her up. But then she started getting really fat and I realized I’d fostered a ready-made family.” He flicked through to his photos. “Of course, she’s not a foster anymore.”
“Uh-oh, a foster fail.” Beth laughed. “She’s landed on her feet with you.”
Nick grinned. “One look at Lucy and I was lost. I couldn’t have turned her away. So, you interested in taking a puppy?”
She desperately wanted to cuddle one of the snuggly little pups, but she knew if she did it would be a recipe for disaster. “You know, I wouldn’t mind having a dog. Haven’t had once since I was a kid. My ex didn’t like pets.”
Nick gave her a strange look then stared out at the ocean. “I reckon there’s something wrong with a person who doesn’t like dogs.”
Beth nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. Took me a long time to see it.” Mentally, she kicked herself all over again. Actually, she hadn’t seen it. Not even when he’d skipped out on her, leaving a trail of debt and destruction in his wake.
But she didn’t want to mess Nick around by getting him involved in her disaster. “I’d love to have a better look, maybe a cuddle. But I’m not sure that I could take a dog right now.” She decided to be truthful. “Money’s a bit tight.”
“No worries.” His lips pulled back into a thin smile, and she wasn’t sure if he was disappointed she wasn’t going home with a pup, or grateful she hadn’t done something stupid by asking for one.
Probably a bit of both.
“Let’s start at the beginning of Miss Lucy’s journey.” He started with a photo of a scared, skinny cattle dog and scrolled through photos on his phone. Lucy, almost smiling, in a timber whelping box, with a colourful knitted blanket. Then a jumble of tiny black and grey bodies, snuggled together, legs, tails, muzzles and ears so entwined, it was hard to tell where one puppy ended and the next one began.
“Oh, they’re gorgeous.”
“It gets better.” He scrolled to a photo with all seven puppies lined up, sleeping. Nick pointed out the tiny handmade collars. “My Nan in Perth makes rag rugs, and she braided some scraps to make these. We needed to colour code the pups to help us tell them apart. In order; Jet, Denim, Forrest, Sunny, Amethyst, Ruby and Rose.”
“A rainbow of puppies.” Beth’s repressed maternal instincts swelled, bursting forth in a wave of emotion. “How on earth are you ever going to give them away?”
Nick’s face twisted as he stared down at his phone. “If I had my way, I’d keep them all. But I can’t. You know the old saying, when you love something—sometimes you have to let it go.”
A shudder worked its way down Beth’s spine. “Yeah, I know all about letting things go.”
Nick stared at her for the longest time. Whatever he was thinking, it wasn’t anything to do with puppies. Heat pooled in her belly, then spread upward and outward. Her cheeks burned.
Then he dropped his gaze and said, “Best we get back to it.”
***
DEE CHAMBERS WAS THE queen of understatement, if the number of cars parked out on Beach Road was any indication. Beth had expected maybe ten or twenty people, but she’d had to park about a kilometre up the road. More people were driving in every minute.
The spur of the moment decision to relocate to the other side of the country had never seemed more logical than it had today. Stonecrest Bay oozed something Simpson’s Flat never would.
A sense of community.
As soon as she was out of the car Beth could smell the sausages, and she followed her nose towards the main hub in the parking bay near the amenities.
“Beth?” A tall, muscly guy wearing a purple T-shirt emblazoned with SBAR waved.
She nodded and walked over.
“I’m Harley. Dee told me you’d be coming. Here you go.” He tossed her a plastic wrapped T-shirt. “Pop that on. Dee said you know Nick, so I’ve partnered you with him.” He guided her through the production line of volunteer dog washing. Each pair took a dog from the waiting queue, washing it in the hydrobath, then towel dried it before returning it to its owner. Once their dog was finished, the pairs went back to the start and ran another one through.
It sounded simple enough.
Half an hour later, though, she wondered if there was any possibility she could be sacked for incompetence. Honey, the golden retriever, was not nearly as impressed with her bath as she had been by her run on the beach, and was letting Nick and Beth know about it.
“No,” Beth laughed, as Honey tried for the fortieth time to get her paws up on the side of the hydrobath and jump out. Then Honey shook, and suds went everywhere, even in Nick’s mouth.
“Ptttthhh.” He spluttered. “Honey,” he warned in a stern voice, but that lasted about a second before he too burst out laughing. Honey made another break for freedom and Beth held on to her for dear life.
Five minutes in, she’d been worried about the wet T-shirt competition she was unexpectedly participating in, especially with Nick as her partner. Now, she’d be happy if she survived the night, and didn’t lose any dogs.
Or any teeth.
Dee appeared at Nick’s side and tutted softly. “Honey Bee, stay down, or you won’t get your hair done,” she admonished. Honey, clearly recognising Dee, gave her the look of the long-suffering dog, and settled immediately. “Right, you two, my best guess is you’ve got sixty seconds. Maybe ninety. Go hard.”
And laughing, they did.
***
IT WAS FRANTIC AND messy, and her fingers were so pruney they might never recover, but Beth couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun. There was nothing quite like the joy of a dog who’d run hard at the beach, or the instant flip to a look of suffering as they realised they were headed into the hydrobath.
Unless it was the warmth from the glances Nick was giving her.
“Dee,” Nick called his mate over as the sun started to dip towards the horizon and the crowd started to thin. “Beth’s not seen a sunset over the ocean. Any chance we could finish up now, so I could take her down?”
Dee flipped her gaze from Nick to Beth and then back to Nick.
Slowly she nodded. “You could do that, if you want to?”
A bit of joy of the day drained out of Beth.
What was that about?
“We don’t have to,” she offered, even though she did really want to go.
Nick shot Dee another glance. “Yeah, I’d like to.”
Dee arched a brow.
Beth grabbed a towel and wiped her hands. “I’ll let Harley know we’re finishing up.” She scooted off, giving Dee and Nick the opportunity to talk freely.
As she crossed over to Harley, a lightning bolt struck, and she stumbled to a halt.
Was Nick unattached? She hadn’t thought to check, because this morning they were just fellow stall holders on a Sunday morning. Her cheeks burned at the thought that maybe she’d fallen for Nick’s charms when she shouldn’t have.
More correctly, maybe he shouldn’t have offered them up.
Well, there was only one way to find out. Beth straightened her shoulders and kept walking. “Hey Harley, Nick and I are heading out now.” She gestured to the T-shirt he’d loaned her earlier in the night. “I can wash this, and return it.”
“Or, you could wash it and keep it. You did great tonight. We’d love to have you on board with the rescue.”
“Thanks.” She smiled at the unexpected praise. “I will.”
“Great. If you’ve got time, call past the salon tomorrow and we’ll hook you up with a volunteer registration form.”
“Will do.” She was struck again how welcoming the community in the bay was. She was no longer ‘that poor woman’ or ‘that poor Beth’. She was just Beth, and that suited her just fine.
Nick and Dee were still talking quietly when she returned, so she spoke well in advance of breezing up to them. “I guess it’s official. Harley let me keep the shirt. Meet SBAR’s newest recruit.”
“Sensational.” Dee’s smile was genuine, and Beth’s unease lessened. “Welcome aboard.”
“Nice.” Nick smiled as well, although she could still see tension in his shoulders from whatever Dee had said. “Many hands make light work.”
“Thanks for tonight,” Dee said. “Enjoy your night.”
They said their goodbyes, then Nick said, “It’ll be cold down on the beach. I’ve probably got a jumper in my car, if you’d like to borrow it.”
Beth glanced at the horizon. “That’d be great. No way will I make it back down to my car and back.” She thought for a second. “And not that I’ve got anything else to wear.”
They walked over to his Ute, and he delved into a beat up bag on the back seat. He offered up a well-worn hoodie, and took a chambray shirt for himself.
“Here you are.”
Beth hesitated. “I can’t take your jumper and leave you a shirt.”
Nick grinned. “I’m getting the better deal.” He showed her the thick woollen lining of the shirt. “And it’s going to be cold out on the sand.” He pulled his rescue shirt up and over his head, and Beth’s mouth went dry. Smooth, tanned skin and muscle definition his T-shirt had only hinted at. She didn’t know where to look as he shrugged into the chambray. Heat flooded into her cheeks.
Beth closed her eyes, trying to preserve the image of Nick without his shirt. She was feeling too hot to put on his jumper now.
“Here.” He opened both passenger doors and boxed her in between them. “I’ll make sure no-one sees.” And he turned his back, closing off the space so she could get changed.
“Thanks.” She crouched below window height, then ditched her shirt, the rescue shirt she’d stuck over the top and her bra. The sea breeze was cool on her damp skin and she pulled Nick’s hoodie on. It was a little long, but it was clean and dry.
And warm.
Best of all, it smelt like Nick.
Beth closed her eyes and breathed in, savouring the combination of timber and tang.
“Sun’s not going to wait,” he reminded her, without turning around.
“Done. I’ll leave these here.” She tucked her wet clothes into the tray of his ute and they headed over to the sausage sizzle.
“Modern Australian,” Nick said, as he came away with a tray of the Aussie classic, sausages in bread with onions and sauce. “The BBQ adds that smoky flavour, hard to replicate in the kitchen,” he added, doing a reasonable impression of a TV cooking show host. He held up some cans. “And drinks.”
“Great.” Her mouth was already watering. She followed him down the narrow track to the beach.
“Just in time.” Nick said as he chose a spot at the edge of the dunes.
They sat in silence, side by side, munching on their dinner, as the sky morphed from blue to orange, then pink and then in a blaze of yellow the sun slipped below the horizon. The entire beach came alive, and the colours continued to change long after the sun said its last farewell.
“That was awesome,” Beth said. “I wish I had my camera.”
“There’s always next time,” Nick said.
Next time.
Just the thought of it sent shivers down her spine. Wearing Nick’s hoodie added a level of intimacy she wasn’t sure she was ready for. And there was still that conversation with Dee. She stared out at the water, uncomfortable to broach it, but unable to let it go. Potentially, if she’d challenged situations with pointed looks and thinly veiled comments back home, she wouldn’t be in the mess she was in now.
“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but before, Dee looked a bit worried when you said you were heading down to the beach with me. Why?”
Nick stiffened, then relaxed and laughed. “I’ve known Dee since she was five. She’s a bit overprotective of me.”
“Oh.” There was overprotective, and then there was overreaction. Her gut was telling her Dee’s was the latter. “Anything I should know?” She said it lightly, but her stomach was churning.
“Well, I probably should tell you ‘watching the sunset’ is bay-talk for parking on lover’s lane.”
“Oh.” Heat flooded her face. “I actually wanted to see the sunset,” she stammered. “I wasn’t angling for anything.”
“I know.” Nick took hold of her hand and squeezed. “It been a long time since I’ve been on the dating scene, or the social scene, and Dee was being a good friend. She didn’t want me to jump into something and get hurt.”
It seemed like there was more. Beth nodded but didn’t speak.
“I was married.” Nick’s voice was gravelly. “It didn’t end well.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” At least, in that, they might have common ground. “Is your ex still in town?”
“Yeah. Out on Cemetery Road.” Nick joked, but his pain was obvious. “With my brother, Paul. They died in the same accident.” He paused. “Together.”
The way he forced that last word out broke her heart. “Like, together?”
He winced, then nodded and Beth could see the agony he still carried.
Cheating, as she’d discovered, was the ultimate betrayal. It made you doubt yourself in ways you’d never imaged. No-one emerged unscathed. Discovering your wife was cheating with your brother added a whole other dimension to the ugliness. At least her ex had chosen drugs when he’d stepped out on her.
“That’s just wrong.”
They sat in silence for a few seconds, then Nick said, “It was bad enough losing my wife, but I lost Paul as well.” He paused, and she heard him swallow. “I found them in our house, in our bed. We argued. Paul told me she was his. He dragged Gemma out of the house with him. Like she didn’t have a choice. Then he put her on the back of that big, bad bike of his, and took off.”
“Oh, no.” She’d lived in the country long enough to know the combination of testosterone, motorbikes and speed never ended well. Her heart jumped into her mouth.
“They took a bend too fast, ended up on the wrong side of the white line and clipped the grill of an oncoming semi-trailer. Enough of an impact to flip them into the path of the car behind. The driver never saw them coming.”
“I’m so sorry.” She gripped his hand. “I know how hard this must be for you. My ex never took a life, but he was well on the way to sucking the life out of me. He cheated, he lied.” She swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat. “It was an eon before I realised that nothing I could have done or would do in the future would stop his behaviour.” She sandwiched his cold hand between hers. “That’s when I knew I had to get out. Start fresh. Try to recover.”
He sat silently for the longest time. “Paul used to do this thing when we were kids. He’d know I liked something, and then he’d take it. It was a game for him.”
“That goes a long way to explaining what happened. If it was a game for him, maybe your wife didn’t even know she was part of the game. Sometimes, you can be seduced to do something because the seducer knows it’s out of character, and that’s the challenge.”
“Maybe.” Nick didn’t sound convinced. “She’s not blameless though. Who, in their right mind, goes after their brother-in-law?”
“Someone being manipulated,” she offered softly. “I guess it doesn’t matter who was to blame now. Just so long as you know you weren’t to blame.”
Nick turned his face to hers and stared into her eyes. “You’re right. I blamed myself for a really long time, but in hindsight, I just added fuel to an already out of control fire. Worst of all, I miss him way more than I miss her. Which is weird, given how he treated me.”
“Family is family.” Beth said sagely. “Even when you don’t like them, there’s still a link. Shared history. Genetics. I don’t know what it is.” She paused. “I don’t have siblings, so I don’t have much experience, but I know about family.”
“The hardest thing, and God knows there were so many hard things, was when mum found out. She knew what he was like, and she’d always excused it. He’s your brother. It’s just sibling rivalry. Learn to get along. I actually thought finding out what he did would kill her.”
“Oh Nick, that’s awful.”
“Then she went and took down all the family photos with him in. As though erasing him would erase what he did.”
“Maybe. Or maybe she was trying to support you the best way she knew how.” Beth offered. “Give you a place where you could feel comfortable again.” Then a horrible thought occurred to her. “She didn’t throw the photos out, did she?”
Nick shook his head. “Nope, just shoved them in a box in Paul’s old room.” He reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone. “I took some photos of them the last time she was in hospital. One day, I’ll get them scanned.” He swiped his camera roll, looking for the image he wanted. “Dad died young, so the only photos of dad have both us kids in.” He offered up his phone and Beth took it.
It was your typical childhood photo. The boys were at the front, posing with motorbikes adorned with Christmas bows, mum and dad standing proudly behind.
“You were a cute kid.” He was the younger of the two, and his hair was short, his face freckled. Paul was in jeans and had longer hair, grazing his collar. He was grinning at the camera, much more confident than his younger brother.
A cool breeze tickled the hairs on the back of her neck.
Long hair.
Motorbike.
Her heart started pounding.
Morton.
Her stomach was churning as she used the phone to zoom in on Paul.
O...M...G...
Beth closed her eyes, then flicked them open again. But the photo was still there. Taunting her.
The same grin, the same hair, the same oh-so-confident attitude.
Morton from New Year’s Eve in the pub at Simpson’s Flat, was Paul Morton, Nick’s older brother.
She thrust Nick’s phone back at him, and scooted back on the sand, away from that photo.
Away from Nick.
Wrapping her arms around her stomach, she breathed in and out through her mouth, desperately trying to settle her churning stomach.
How was this even possible?
Because, deep down inside, you came to Stonecrest Bay for the excitement that Morton, no Paul, had promised.
Beth considered not saying anything. Carrying on, and never mentioning it. But what hope was there for any sort of relationship with Nick, if it started with a lie.
Who was she kidding?
What hope was there for a relationship anyway? She was poor Beth Taranga from Simpson’s Flat. She didn’t even deserve a relationship.
But Nick deserved the truth.
She took a huge breath. “I have something to tell you.”
Something in her body language tipped him off and instantly, Nick was on the alert. “What?”
“I’m pretty sure I met your brother. About fifteen years ago. There was a motorcycle tour, starting at the most easterly point on the Australian coast and riding to the most westerly.”
Nick stared at her. “He did an across Australia ride.”
“He called himself Morton.”
Nick raised a brow. “He did. Especially with his mates.”
Beth swallowed hard and ploughed on. “He spent the night at the pub. Before I was working there. It was New Year’s Eve and we’d all gone down because we heard there were bikers in town.”
Nick stiffened. “And you met him.” There was a hint of, was it disapproval, in his tone?
Beth straightened her spine. “This morning, when I met you, I had déjà vu. For a second, I thought you were him. Then I realised you weren’t. I didn’t put it together until just now.”
Nick dropped her hand. “How much time did you spend with him.”
“Just one night.” Her quiet admission hung in the air between them for the longest time.
“One whole night?” The temperature dropped as Nick pulled away from her. “Together?”
“One night together,” Beth confirmed. She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. “A lifetime ago.”
Nick shoved his phone in his pocket and pushed to his feet.
“It wasn’t serious.” Well, she’d been serious. “And it wasn’t planned, it was two adults...” Actually, one adult, one lovestruck teen. “... sharing New Year’s Eve.”
“My brother. And you.” The shock was wearing off and he had anger in his eyes now. “I avoided every girl in this town, just in case...” He shook his head.
“This wasn’t part of his game.” Beth’s shock was wearing off as well. “It had nothing to do with you. I was honest with you because I respect you.” She got to her feet. “Please don’t throw our friendship...” Was that what it was? “...away because of something that happened a lifetime ago.”
Nick stared at her for the longest time. He took a step back, then another.
But the distance wasn’t on the sand, it was in his eyes.
The emptiness tore at her heart. She rasped in a big breath. Then another.
She couldn’t process, couldn’t speak.
Inside though, she was screaming.
And if Nick could see that in her eyes, he didn’t let on.
His stare was glassy, and that alone was enough to send ice through her veins.
Finally, her brain unlocked. “Nick, please.” She held out her hand.
Her anguished plea must have released something, because Nick’s vision cleared. He worked his jaw, trying to swallow. Then he shook his head and choked out, “I’m sorry.”
Nick strode off down the beach, and into the darkness.
“No.”
This wasn’t meant to happen.
This couldn’t happen.
Her heart shattered into a million pieces, the shards cutting her from the inside, and she fell back down onto the sand.
She scrambled into a sit, pulled her knees up to her chest and locked her arms around them. She would wait. He would come back. He had to.
The tide had turned, the wind was icy, and she was frozen to the core before the emptiness took over and she finally admitted to herself what her heart had instantly known.
Nick wasn’t coming back.
***
BETH PUT NICK’S HOODIE, washed and line-dried to her face. Even after washing, there were still traces of his aftershave. If she sniffed hard enough.
Dream on.
All she could smell was washing powder and fresh country air.
She put it on the front seat of her car. As unappealing as facing Nick in the light of day was to return the hoodie, it needed to be done. And there was no time like the present.
A thousand times she went to pull over, turn around, take a side road, but she couldn’t. When her ex skipped out with just about everything, he hadn’t stolen her courage. Or her ability to do what was right.
She’d give Nick his jumper, acknowledge his hurt, and at least try to retrieve their friendship. She had to. She liked him. And she respected him.
The last few kilometres out to Nick’s property were on a corrugated dirt road that hadn’t seen a grader for quite a while. The billowing dust behind her announced her arrival well in advance of her actual arrival. By the time she pulled into the drive, Nick was exiting the big industrial shed that loomed behind his old fashioned stone farmhouse, wiping his hands on a towel.
He watched the car as she drove up and she saw the exact moment he realised it was her.
His whole posture stiffened.
Beth’s heart dropped.
Well, it wasn’t ever going to be easy.
She wiped her sweaty palms down her jeans, turned the car off and hopped out. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
She proffered the hoodie. “I wanted to say thank you for loaning me this, and thank you for a lovely evening.”
“You’re welcome.” He stepped closer and took the jumper. “You could have left it with Dee.”
“Yeah, I could have. But I wanted to apologise. Last night, I shared some very confronting history from my life, and I didn’t realise how it would affect you. I’m sorry.”
Nick stared at her for the longest time. “Apology accepted.” He stopped and swallowed. “I’m sorry I walked off. I was upset, but it’s no excuse for leaving you alone at night, a long way from your car.”
“No worries. Maybe I’m naïve, but it seems safe here.”
“Most of the time,” Nick agreed. “Your stuff is still on the line. I’ll grab it.”
She’d forgotten all about the jumble of wet clothes she’d left in his Ute. She glanced around, hoping there were no neighbours close enough to watch her retrieving her smalls from his clothesline.
“This is pretty.” The farmhouse was enclosed by a white picket fence and plenty of flowering trees and shrubs.
“Yeah. I loved this place the moment I first saw it. So much nicer than being stuck in town.”
They rounded the corner and Beth’s heart full on melted. There, under a shady tree, were Lucy and her seven tiny puppies. “Oh, look at them.” She made a beeline for the enclosure. “Hello Lucy.” She gave her a scratch under the chin. “Look at these gorgeous babies of yours.”
Nick detoured via the clothesline, then joined her at the fence. “You can go in if you want.”
“Oh, yes please.” No sooner had he said it than she’d gone over the wire. Instantly, seven puppies woke and descended. “Wow, they’re pretty full on.”
“Only on days of the week ending in y.”
Beth looked up, and her heart did a little flip-flop. Nick smiling was gorgeous. Nick clutching a handful of her smalls and smiling was a whole other level of gorgeous. Add a puppy tucked into the crook of his arm and it would be out of this world.
Whoa, bring it down a bit, girl.
She’d be lucky if she could re-establish the beginnings of their friendship. Being with Nick had made her feel alive for the first time in months. She couldn’t lose that.
She would take things slowly, try and reconnect.
“I have been thinking about a puppy.” She wasn’t sure who her words surprised more, him, or her. “I’d want to be set up first. Check the yard, make sure the landlord is happy, so if you’ve still got pups needing homes, I’d like to apply.”
Nick eyed her curiously. “You sure?”
“Yes, I’d like to apply. No, I’m not sure I know what I’m doing. But I figure between all the volunteers at the rescue, there’s bound to be some people who can help me out with good advice.”
“Rose is looking for a home.” He stepped his long legs effortlessly over the wire and scooped the puppy with the pink collar from the mass. “She’s the smallest, and the quietest, but I think she’s going to be the pick when it comes to being a lounge buddy.” He grinned down at the snuggly little bean, who lay belly up in the crook of his arm, staring up at him in adoration.
Smiling Nick.
Armful of smalls.
Snuggly puppy.
Beth’s lips parted as warmth flooded through her. What would happen if he looked at her like that? She would melt, right then and there.
But before she could continue the fantasy, Rose wiggled alarmingly. Nick caught the wriggling bundle, but Beth’s bra, shirts and the pegs all fell to the ground.
Six ferocious monsters immediately went into battle.
“No.” Nick put Rose down and tried to rescue her gear, but not before the puppies pounced. “Amethyst give that back. Jet, Sunny stop.” It was a three way tug, and escalating fast. “Rescue shirt.” He tossed it to her and she laid it over the fence.
Then she turned back to the battle.
She should help, but the sight of the lilac lace and satin concoction she’d bought because it was on special being fought over by the rambunctious puppies had her in fits of laughter. “Sorry... Can’t help... Too funny...” A monumental rip stopped her laughing for a second, but only for a second. Then she doubled up and laughed all the harder.
Nick took one look at her, and cracked a smile, then a grin, then he too was laughing. “T-shirt,” he yelled triumphantly, before he sent it flying over the fence out of harm’s way. “Maybe one hole.”
“And the rest,” Beth couldn’t stop laughing. The bra was a goner, but the pegs were still retrievable. She waded into the mass of wriggly bodies and started picking up the pegs before the puppies could.
And all the while, Lucy sat under the tree, watching the chaos. Soon the puppies started drifting away, tired by their adventure, some to play alone with their share of the spoils, others to curl into a ball for another nap.
Nick got busy picking up fragments of lilac lace. “I am so sorry about that. I truly thought Rose was going to jump.” Soon, he had a handful of bits. “I can get you another one.”
“No way.” Beth’s sides were hurting from laughing so much. “That was the best thing I’ve seen all week.” She thought for a second. “Probably all year.” She started to laugh again.
“I hope that hasn’t changed your mind about a puppy.” Nick said.
“That,” she gestured to his handful of lace, “has cemented my decision. I’m pretty sure my rental is pet friendly, and provided I can have her at my place, I’ll take Rose.”
“Awesome.” He retrieved her shirt from the lawn. “Also sorry. Looks like you and I are going downtown to go shopping.”
“Nah, now that I’ve got a dog, that’s my dog washing shirt.” Beth paused and took a deep breath. “I did have a great time last night. And yesterday. With you.”
Nick’s eyes met hers.
Held hers.
Smouldered.
Neither of them was laughing now.
Beth ran her tongue nervously over her lip.
Nick held her gaze for the longest time. Finally, he said, “Yeah, me too. I’m really sorry about last night. I was awake all night, thinking about you, about Paul. I realised it’s my baggage. Not yours. I’m sorry.”
Beth nodded, then stuck out her hand. “Dog washing partners?”
Nick reached out. “Always.” He shook her hand. Then, without warning, his grip tightened, and he pulled her towards him. As momentum carried her forward he let go of her hand and wrapped her in his arms.
Her heart raced. Her skin tingled where he touched her. She took a deep breath and the sweet tang of his aftershave enveloped her.
She inched closer.
Being in his arms was heaven.
“Of course, if you’re going to take Miss Rose, there’s a lot to learn. You and I are going to have to spend time together.” His arms tightened around her. “A lot of time together.”
Beth wanted to shout, to scream, to dance.
She lifted her face to his and when he bent closer and lightly pressed his lips to hers, she struggled to draw a breath, to stay upright. Her heart pounded, and she was shaking all over.
“I’d like that.”
She took a deep breath and smiled. Soon she was grinning.
She wrapped her arms around Nick, closed her eyes and raised her lips to his.