Mills & Boon Showcase

CHAPTER NINE

TO BEN, SANDY looked as if she’d always stood behind the counter of Bay Books. The short hair he was still getting used to was tucked behind her ears. Just below her left shoulder she had pinned a round metal badge that urged people to get involved with a local literacy campaign. She looked smart, efficient—every inch the professional salesperson. Yet her yellow dress seemed to bring the sunlight right into the corners of the dark wooden carvings so favoured by Aunt Ida, and her vanilla scent brought a sweet new warmth.

She fitted right in.

Ida would be delighted.

But Sandy looked anything but happy—she was wary, guarded, with a shadow behind her eyes. She was chewing her lip so hard she was in danger of drawing blood.

Fear gripped him deep in his gut. What gave here?

‘Hey,’ he said, and went around the counter to pull her into his arms, expecting her warm curves to relax against him. Instead she stiffened and resisted his embrace.

Why the sudden cold change? Hell, he’d worked damn hard to pull down a chink in those barriers he’d built up. Had she now decided to put up a few of her own?

It didn’t figure.

‘What’s going on?’ he asked.

Sandy took a step back, her struggle to decide what to tell him etched on her face. She picked up a waxed paper coffee cup, took a sip. Her hand wasn’t quite steady and the froth on the top wobbled dangerously. She put it down and the foam slid over the lid of the cup and dribbled down its side.

‘Leave it,’ he said as she reached for a cloth to wipe it up.

‘No. It might damage the wood,’ she said.

She cleaned the spill too thoroughly. A delaying tactic if ever he’d seen one.

She put the cloth away, started to speak way too rapidly. ‘Why don’t we take our coffee over to the round table?’ She was gabbling, her eyes blinking rapidly as she looked everywhere but at him. ‘It’s a cosier place to have coffee. Y’know, I’m thinking it would be great for Ida to have a café here. Maybe knock through to the vacant shop next door so that customers—’

She went to pick up the coffee cup again, but he closed his hand around her wrist to stop her. He wouldn’t give her an excuse to evade him. Her hand stilled under his. ‘Tell me. Now.’

Her eyes flickered up to meet his and then back down. When she spoke, her words came out in a rush. ‘Kate told me the whole town is watching to see if I hurt you.’

In his relief, he cursed. ‘Is that all?’ He let go her wrist.

‘What do you mean, is that all?’ Hands on hips, she glared at him with the ferocity of a fluffed-up kitten. ‘Don’t you patronise me, Ben Morgan. Kate really freaked me out.’

He used both hands to push down in a gesture of calm. ‘Kate exaggerates. Kate and the old-school people who were here before Dolphin Bay became a hotspot for escapees from the city. They all mind each other’s business.’

Sandy’s chin tilted upwards. ‘And your business in particular, if Kate’s to be believed.’

He shook his head. ‘It’s no big deal.’

‘Are you telling me that’s part and parcel of living in a small town?’

He picked up his coffee. Drank a few mouthfuls to give him time to think. It was just as he had predicted. Ben’s old girlfriend is back. He could practically hear the hot news humming through cyberspace. ‘Yeah. Better get used to it.’

‘I don’t know if I can.’ Her voice rose to a higher pitch. ‘I’m used to the don’t-give-a-damn attitude of the city.’

Ben thought back to how the town had pulled together for him after the fire. How it had become so stifling he’d had to get away. He’d thrown himself into high-risk money-making ventures because he’d had nothing to lose when he’d already lost everything. They’d paid off in spades. And he’d come back. Dolphin Bay would always be home. No matter that sad memories haunted him at every turn.

But why should that hothouse concern for him bother Sandy?

Her arms were crossed defensively against her chest. Was she using her fear of the townfolk’s gossip to mask some deeper reluctance? Some concern she had about him?

He chose his words carefully. ‘I can see that. But you’re only here for four more days. We’re not thinking beyond that, right? Why worry about what they think?’

‘I just do,’ she said, in a very small voice.

He put down his coffee, put his finger under her chin and tilted it upwards so she was forced to meet his gaze. ‘What else did Kate say?’

‘It wasn’t Kate. There were some other women. Customers. They...they were talking about...about Jodi.’

Pain knifed through him at the sound of Jodi’s name. People tended to avoid saying it in front of him.

His feelings must have shown on his face, because Sandy looked stricken.

‘Ben, I’m so sorry...’

She went to twist away from him, but he stopped her.

‘I should tell you about Jodi.’

The words would be wrenched from him, but he had to tell Sandy about his wife. There should be no secrets between them. Not if they were to enjoy the four days they had together.

‘Ben. No. You don’t have to—’

He gently put his hand over her mouth to silence her and she nodded.

He dropped his hand. ‘I loved Jodi. Don’t ever think otherwise. She was a good wife and a wonderful mother.’

‘Of course.’ Sandy’s eyes were warm with compassion—and a touch of wariness.

‘I’d known her all my life. But I didn’t date her until I’d finished university and was working in Melbourne.’

Sandy’s brows rose. ‘University? You said—’

‘You wouldn’t catch me in a classroom again?’

‘That’s right. You said it more than once. I remember because I was looking forward to going to uni.’

‘You can thank your father for my business degree.’

She frowned. ‘My father? I—’

‘He used to look at me as if I were something scraped off the bottom of his shoe. Left me in no doubt that I wasn’t worthy of his daughter.’ Ben would have liked to apply some apt swear words to his memories of Dr Randall Adams, but Sandy might not appreciate that.

Sandy protested. ‘Surely he didn’t say that to you? I can’t believe he—’

‘He didn’t have to say it. I saw his sneer.’

Her mouth twisted. ‘No wonder I never got your letters.’

Teen testosterone had made him want to flatten the guy. ‘But he had a point. To be worthy of his daughter I needed to get off my surfboard and make something of myself. I had deferred places at universities in both Sydney and Melbourne to choose from.’

‘You never said...’

‘At the time I had no intention of taking either. I just wanted to surf every good break at Big Ray Beach and work for my dad when I needed money to travel to other surf beaches. That summer... I guess it made me grow up.’

He’d been determined to prove Dr Adams wrong. And broadening his horizons had been the right choice, even if made for the wrong reasons. And now fate had brought Sandy back to him. Now they met as equals in every way.

‘You could have been studying at the same uni as me,’ Sandy said slowly. She pulled a face that looked sad rather than funny. ‘I won’t say if only again.’

They both fell silent. But Ben refused to give in to musing about what might have been. He had tortured himself enough.

Sandy cleared her throat. ‘What happened after you finished uni?’

‘I was offered a job in a big stockbroking firm in Melbourne. Got an apartment and stayed down there.’

‘But you came home for holidays? And...and met up with Jodi again?’

He could tell Sandy was finding the conversation awkward. She twisted the fabric of her skirt between the fingers of her right hand without seeming to be aware she was doing it.

‘I had an accident in the surf. Got hit in the face with the fin of my board.’ His hand went to the scar on his lip. ‘Jodi was the nurse who looked after me at the hospital.’

And it had started from there. A relaxed, no-strings relationship with a sweet, kind-hearted girl that had resulted in an unplanned pregnancy.

He’d said there were to be no secrets from Sandy, but Liam’s unexpected conception was something he didn’t want to share with her. Not yet. Maybe never.

‘Jodi moved down to Melbourne with me after we got married.’

‘What...what brought you both back to Dolphin Bay?’

‘I’m not a city guy. I’d had it with Melbourne. The insane work hours, the crowds, the traffic. Mum and Dad were tired of running the guesthouse. Jodi wanted to be with family when she had the baby.’

He gritted his teeth, trying not to let himself be overwhelmed by emotion when he thought of his baby son. The son he’d loved so fiercely from the moment he’d been placed in his arms as a newborn and yet hadn’t been able to protect.

‘I could trade shares from here. Start business projects here.’

There was another pause. Sandy twisted the edge of her skirt even tighter. ‘Those ladies... They...they said Jodi’s parents wouldn’t be happy with me coming onto the scene.’

Ben clenched his hands into fists. Who were these busybody troublemakers? If he found out he’d tell them to damn well butt out of his business.

He shook his head. ‘Not true. Jodi’s mum and dad are good people. They want me to...to have someone in my life again.’

Sandy’s eyes widened. ‘You know that for sure?’

‘Yes. They’ve told me not to let the...the tragedy ruin my life. That...that it’s not what Jodi would have wanted.’

‘And you believe that? About Jodi?’

He nodded. His words were constricted in his throat. ‘The night Liam was born she told me that if anything happened to her—she was a nurse and knew there could be complications in childbirth—she didn’t want me to be on my own. She...she made me promise I would find someone else...’

‘Oh, Ben.’

Sandy laid her hand on his arm. He realised she was close to tears. When she spoke again her voice was so choked he had to strain to hear her.

‘How can I live up to such a wonderful woman?’

In a few shaky steps she made her way around the counter and stood with her back to him. She picked up a book from the display and put it back in exactly the same place.

‘Sandy, it isn’t a competition.’

Her voice was scarcely a murmur. ‘There would always be a third person in our relationship. I don’t know that I could deal with that...’

‘Sandy, didn’t you hear what I said? Jodi would want me to take this chance to spend time with you.’

She turned to face him, the counter now a barrier between them. Her eyes, shadowed again, searched his face. ‘Jodi sounds like...like an angel.’

Ben forced himself to smile through the pain. ‘She’d laugh to hear you say that. Jodi was special, and I loved her. But she was just a human being, like the rest of us, with her own strengths and weaknesses.’

‘Ben, I’m no angel either. Don’t expect me to be. I’m quick to make judgements, grumpy when I’m hungry or tired—and don’t dare to cross me at my time of the month. Oh, and there’s the toilet roll thing.’

Despite the angst of talking about Jodi, Sandy made him smile. Just as she’d done when she was eighteen. ‘You can let me deal with that.’

She pushed the hair away from her forehead in a gesture of weariness. ‘I...I don’t know that I’ve thought this through very well.’

‘What do you mean?’ he asked.

Fear knifed him again.

He’d had five major turning points in his life. One when he’d decided to go to university. The second when he’d married Jodi. The third when Liam was born. Fourth, the fire. And the fifth when he’d looked up from that wave this morning and seen Sandy standing on the shore next to his dog, as if she were waiting for him to come home to her.

Since he’d kissed her he’d thought of nothing but Sandy. Of the impact she’d made in less than twenty-four hours on his safe, guarded, ultimately sterile life.

He hadn’t wanted her here. But her arrival in town had forced him to take stock. And what he saw was a bleak, lonely future—a half-life—if he continued to walk the solitary path he had mapped for himself. He had grieved. A part of him would always grieve. But grief that didn’t heal could twist and turn and fester into something near madness—if he let it.

He would not allow Sandy to back away from him now. She’d offered four days and he was going to take them.

She took a deep breath. ‘The you-and-me thing. What if it doesn’t work out and I...and I hurt you again? You’ve endured so much. I couldn’t bear it if I caused you more pain.’

‘Leave that to me. It’s a gamble I’ll take.’

Sandy was his best bet for change. The ongoing power of his attraction to her improved the odds. Her warmth, her vivacity, made him feel as though the seized-up machinery that was his heart was slowly grinding back to life.

She gave him hope.

Maybe that was her real magic—a magic that had nothing to do with shop-bought fairy glitter.

There were four more days until she had to leave for Melbourne. He didn’t know what he brought to the table for her in terms of a relationship. But he’d be a fool not to grab the second chance she’d offered him. No matter the cost if he lost her again.

‘Are you still worried about the townsfolk? They’re nothing to be scared of.’

She set her shoulders, tossed back her head. ‘Scared? Who said I’m scared?’ Her mouth quirked into the beginnings of a smile. ‘Maybe...maybe I am a little scared.’

Scared of him? Was that the real problem? Was she frightened he would rush her into something before she was ready?

He ached to make love to Sandy. Four days might not be enough to get to that stage. But he could wait if that was what she needed. Even though the want, the sheer physical ache to possess her, was killing him.

‘No need to be. I’m here to fight battles for you. Never forget that.’

At last her smile reached her eyes. ‘You’re sure about that?’

She looked so cute he wanted to kiss the tip of her nose.

He stepped around the counter towards her at the same time she moved towards him. He took both her hands in his and pulled her to him. This time she didn’t resist. Her face was very close. That warm vanilla scent of hers was already so familiar.

‘As sure as I am about taking that second chance we’ve been offered. Let’s give it everything we’ve got in the next four days. Turn back the clock.’

She stared at him. He couldn’t blame her for being surprised at his turnaround. The shadow behind her eyes was not completely gone. Had she told him everything that was worrying her?

‘Are you serious?’ she choked out.

‘Very.’

She reached up her hand to stroke the side of his cheek. As if checking he was real. When it came, her smile was tender and her eyes were warm. ‘I’m so happy to hear you say that. It’s just that...’ She paused

‘What?’ he asked.

‘All these expectations on us. It...it’s daunting. And what will we tell people?’

‘Nothing. Let them figure it out for themselves.’ He gripped her hands. ‘This is just about you and me. It’s always just been you and me.’

‘And we—’

‘Enough with the talking,’ he growled, and he silenced her with a kiss.

A kiss to seal their bargain. A kiss to tell her what words could not.

But the kiss rapidly escalated to something hot and hungry and urgent. She matched his urgency with lips, teeth, tongue. He let go her hands so he could pull her tight. Her curves shaped to him as though they were made to fit and she wound her arms around his neck to pull him closer. The strap of her yellow dress slid off her shoulder. He wanted to slide the dress right off her.

He broke away from the kiss, his breath hard and ragged. ‘We’re out of here. To get some privacy.’

‘Wh...what about the shop?’ Her own ragged breathing made her barely coherent.

‘How many books have you sold today?’

‘Just...just a few.’

‘Yeah. Not many customers. Too many gossips.’ He stroked the bare warm skin on her shoulder, exalted in her shiver of response.

‘They did seem to spend more time lurking around corners and looking at me than browsing,’ she admitted.

Her hands slid through his hair with an unconscious sensuality that made him shudder with want.

‘You shut down the computer. I’ll set the alarm.’

‘But Ida...’

‘Don’t worry about Ida.’ He could easily make up to his aunt for any drop in sales figures.

Sandy started to say something. He silenced her with another kiss. She moaned a throaty little sound that made him all the more determined to get her out of here and to somewhere private, where he could kiss her without an audience.

The old-fashioned doorbell on the top of the shop door jangled loudly.

Sandy froze in his arms. Then she pulled away from him, cheeks flushed, eyes unfocused. Her quiet groan of frustration echoed his. She pressed a quick, hard kiss on his mouth and looked up wordlessly at him.

To anyone coming into the store they would look as guilty as the pair of teenagers they’d once been. He rolled his eyes. Sandy started to shake with repressed giggles.

He kept his arm firmly around her as they turned to face the two middle-aged women who had entered the shop. Both friends of his mother.

Two sets of eyebrows had risen practically to their hairlines.

News of kiss number two for the day would be rapidly telegraphed through the town.

And he didn’t give a damn.

‘Sorry, ladies,’ he said, in a voice that put paid to any argument. ‘This shop is closed.’

CHAPTER TEN

DESTINATION? SOMEWHERE THEY could have privacy. Purpose? To talk more freely about what had happened to each other in the twelve years since she’d left Dolphin Bay. And Sandy didn’t give a flying fig that the two bemused ladies Ben had ousted from Bay Books stood hands on hips and watched as she and Ben hastened away from the shop.

Even just metres down the street she fell out of step with Ben and had to skip to catch up. He turned to wait for her, suppressed laughter still dancing around his mouth, and extended his hand for her to take.

Sandy hesitated for only a second before she slid her fingers through his. Linked hands would make quite a statement to the good folk of Dolphin Bay. Anticipation and excitement throbbed through her as he tightened his warm, strong grip and pulled her closer. She smiled up at him, her breath catching in her throat at his answering smile.

When she’d very first held hands with Ben the simple act had been a big deal for her. Most of her schoolfriends had already had sex with their boyfriends by the age of eighteen. Not her. She’d never met a boy she’d wanted to do more with than kiss. When she’d met Ben she’d still been debating the significance of hands held with just palms locked or, way sexier, with fingers entwined.

And Ben?

Back then he’d had no scars.

‘Where are we going?’ she asked, surprised when her voice came out edged with nervousness.

‘My place,’ he said. His voice didn’t sound nervous in the slightest.

Did he live at the hotel? That would make sense. Maybe in an apartment as luxurious as the room where she was staying.

‘Do you remember my family’s old boathouse?’ he asked as he led her down the steps in front of the hotel.

‘Of course I do,’ she said, and she felt herself colour. Thirty years old and blushing at the memory of that ramshackle old boathouse. Dear heaven, she hoped he didn’t notice.

On the sand outside the boathouse, in the shelter of Ben’s father’s beached dinghies, she and Ben had progressed from first base to not-ready-to-progress-further-than-third.

She glanced quickly up at Ben. Oh, yes, he remembered too. The expression in those deep blue eyes made that loud and clear.

She blushed a shade pinker and shivered at the memory of all that thwarted teen sexuality—and at the thought of how it might feel to finally do something about it if she and Ben got to that stage this time around.

‘I live in the boathouse,’ he said.

‘You live there?’ She didn’t know what else to say that would not come out sounding ill-mannered.

Instead, she followed Ben across the sand in silence, wondering why a successful businessman would choose to live in something that was no more than a shack.

But the structure that sat a short distance to the right of the hotel bore little resemblance to the down-at-heel structure of her memory. Like so much of Dolphin Bay, it had changed beyond recognition.

‘Wow! I’m impressed,’ she said.

Ben’s remodelled boathouse home looked like something that could star on a postcard. Supported by piers on the edge of the bay, its dock led out into the water. Timber-panelled walls were weathered to a silvery grey in perfect harmony with the corrugated iron of the peaked roof. Window trim and carriage lamps had been picked out in a deep dusky blue. Big tubs of purple hydrangeas in glazed blue pots sat either side of the door.