Just for Now: Escape to New Zealand Book Three Read online

  “Pretty well,” Kate Lamonica, a pretty, petite brunette, answered. “Not that Koti has any idea. Let’s hope he remembers the date.”

  “December twelfth,” she reminded her fiancé. “Just in case.”

  “Been traveling a bit here, you know,” Koti protested. “Besides, nobody wants my opinion. Between my mum and all my sisters, Kate’s hardly able to get a word in edgewise, never mind me.”

  “Where are you having it?” Reka asked. “I never heard the final decision.”

  “At the marae,” Koti said. “We thought about doing it the way Drew and Hannah did, flying everyone to Tonga to get away from the media. But my mum said it had to be the marae, or it wouldn’t be a real Maori wedding. ‘What about all the cousins?’” He imitated his mother’s wail of despair. “You know how it is. And in the end, we realized that no journo’s going to want to try to get past the boys in my whanau. Plus we hired a security firm,” he added practically.

  “Coals to Newcastle,” Drew said. “Can’t imagine the security firm that’s going to outperform a marae full of Maori boys.”

  “I take it you didn’t sign with Woman’s World, then,” Hemi put in for the first time. “I was half expecting to hear the announcement, knowing what a show pony you are.”

  Koti sighed theatrically. “Yeh, nah, Kate wouldn’t go for it. I told her she could have a really flash car if we did. But no joy.”

  “Oddly enough,” Kate said tartly. “Thank you very much, but I have no desire to have every woman in New Zealand looking at photos of me in my wedding dress, telling each other I’m not really that good-looking and that Koti could have done better. Guess I’ll have to keep driving the Yaris.” But she smiled at Koti as she said it, and Finn could see the love behind their teasing ways.

  “Think we can do better than that,” Koti smiled back. “I do have something in mind. Wedding present.”

  “Oh, goody,” Kate said happily. “I can’t wait.”

  “What about you, Finn?” Reka asked. “Can’t help but notice you’re here alone again tonight. When are we going to see you with somebody special? Somebody I get to meet more than once?”

  “I’m looking,” he protested. “Not that easy with two kids. Maybe you can put out the word, vet them for me.”

  “Nobody you’re even interested in?” Reka probed. “Nothing on the horizon?”

  “Maybe,” he admitted. “But it’s a bit complicated.”

  “Ah.” Reka sat back with a smile. “By the way, how’s Jenna working out? Your new nanny? We met her while we were all waiting for you boys after the semifinal,” she explained at his startled look. “We were surprised that she was American.”

  “Not entirely,” Finn said. “She’s applied for citizenship.”

  “So she’s planning to stay,” Reka said with satisfaction. “I’m glad. We liked her. Very pretty, too. Didn’t you think so?” she asked her husband.

  “Dunno,” Hemi answered. “I didn’t notice. I was looking at you.”

  All the men laughed at that. “Good one,” Koti said appreciatively. “I’m writing that down.”

  “Been married eight years,” Hemi told him. “Watch and learn, cuz. Watch and learn.”

  “Well, we thought so, anyway,” Reka said to Finn. “Nice, too. And the kids certainly seem to love her.”

  “Yeh. They do,” Finn said. “She’s awesome with them, you’re right.” He cast a hunted look at Hemi. “Help.”

  “Dessert.” Hannah stood with a smile, began to pick up plates with the tact that made her such a graceful partner to the Skipper. The other women rose with her, to Finn’s relief.

  “I’ll do it.” Drew moved to get up, but Hannah waved him back down.

  “Save your strength for the washing-up,” she told him. “Maybe you could get Finn another beer instead. I think he needs one.”

  “Too right,” Finn said gratefully as the women moved into the house and he took the bottle of Mac’s from Drew. “I’m knackered. Meant to know a wee bit about defense, aren’t I. Not sure I came off best there.”

  “Never mind,” Hemi said consolingly. “You were up against a force of nature this time.”

  “We’ve all been there,” Koti grinned. “What Reka can’t winkle out of you isn’t worth knowing. No shame in that.”

  Finn got up at the sound of the front door opening the following night. He’d been sitting in the lounge, sipping a beer, his mind wandering over the previous evening’s conversation, the kids, and the upcoming match against the Pumas. Not waiting up for Jenna, he’d told himself. Just thinking.

  He went into the entryway to find her slipping inside. She took off her jacket, hung it on the hook.

  “Hi,” she told him. “Still up, huh?”

  “Crikey,” he said blankly. “You look beautiful.”

  “Huh. Thanks.” She reached down to pull off one high heel. He saw her wobble a bit, put out a hand to steady her. Her cheeks were flushed, he noticed, the waves of her hair mussed. But there was nothing at all wrong with the collarless, deep purple blouse or the flirty black tulip skirt that made the most of her curvy shape.

  “Is there any more of that wine?” she asked, holding onto his shoulder while she took off the other shoe, settled back down to her normal height. “I need it.”

  “Think so,” he said, a grin beginning to form. “Go sit, and I’ll check.”

  “Brought the bottle too,” he said solemnly as he returned to find her slouched on the couch, arms folded, bare toes curled around the edge of the coffee table. He took his usual spot in the chair across from her, poured wine into both glasses. “Emergency supplies. Hot date, I take it.”

  “Huh,” she snorted again. “Total waste of makeup. ‘It’ll be fun,’ Siobhan said. ‘Some adult conversation,’ she said. ‘You don’t have to shag the bloke.’ Somebody should have told him that.”

  “That good, eh,” he sympathized.

  “And I know I’ve drunk too much. I needed some help, to get through the evening. It just went on and on.” She glared across at him. “He’s an accountant. How is that a glamour occupation? What gives him the right to judge me?”

  “Nothing,” he agreed. “He didn’t think a teacher was up to standard?”

  “We didn’t even get that far. I told him I was a nanny. Watched his eyes glaze over, and I got stubborn. I didn’t tell him I was a teacher. If a nanny wasn’t good enough for him . . .” She shrugged, took another gulp of wine. “Tough.”

  “I could actually see the moment,” she continued. “When he said to himself, ‘Great rack. Kinda hot. Embarrassing job. I’ll just do her, and not tell my mates about it.’”

  He choked on his wine. “You could, eh,” he got out when he’d finished coughing.

  She finished her glass, poured another one. “He wasn’t interested in my views on Labour’s chances in the next election. Put it that way.”

  “I said you were a baby out there. Reckon I was wrong.”

  “I went to high school,” she told him in exasperation. “I know when someone’s staring at my chest. When their brain has switched off and they’re thinking with . . .” She flushed. “Well, I do know. I’m not that stupid. It was one thing with Ian. You can’t blame me for not being able to tell there. He was so respectful, it was almost insulting. And Ben, all right, he’s young. But he at least pretended to look at my face when he talked to me.”

  Finn held up his hands. “I stand corrected. In vino veritas. Didn’t know you were so . . . perceptive.”

  “Yeah. Well. I am,” she muttered. “Now I know what my single friends have been talking about, all these years. Men are jerks.”

  He registered that, moved on. “Want me to hunt this fella down? Do him over for you? I have time. My plane doesn’t leave till one-thirty.”

  “No,” she said grudgingly. “He didn’t do much. Other than the emergency tonsillectomy. I didn’t give him a chance.”

  He frowned, suddenly not finding it all quite so funny. “That’s al
l?”

  “Yeah. Oh, he tried,” she admitted. “But I got my shoulder in there.” She demonstrated the twist, shoving her elbow up.

  “You have hidden depths,” he said appreciatively.

  “I did go to high school,” she repeated. “Is there any more of this wine?”

  “You’ve killed it.” He picked up the empty bottle to show her. “And I reckon it’s going to be getting its revenge, tomorrow morning.”

  “OK,” she sighed. “I’m going to bed.”

  He got up with her, steadied her as she swayed a bit. She leaned into him, pulled his head down and gave him a soft kiss that he couldn’t help returning.

  “You’re nice,” she murmured against him. “If he’d kissed like that, I wouldn’t have used my shoulder.”

  He set her away from him with an effort. “Time for bed,” he said firmly. “Or you’re going to be very, very sorry tomorrow.”

  “Ah.” Finn looked up as Jenna appeared in her dressing gown, one hand going out to grasp the kitchen doorway. “Sleeping Beauty awakes.”

  “Morning,” she got out. “Cup of tea?”

  He handed his own across to her, moved to the jug to make another.

  “Morning, Jenna!” Harry called.

  She winced, took a sip from Finn’s mug and sat down at the table, holding the back of the chair as she levered herself into it. “Morning,” she said to Harry and Sophie, still in their PJ’s. “I have a bit of a headache this morning. Could you talk softly, please?”

  “Will you make us brekkie?” Harry whispered. “We haven’t had any yet.”

  “Oh.” Jenna stared blankly at him. “No Weet-Bix?”

  “I want bacon!” Harry said enthusiastically, forgetting his quiet voice in his excitement.

  Finn smiled, seeing Jenna’s face go green. “Reckon Jenna needs coffee this morning, Harry. And I don’t think she’s feeling like cooking. We’ll go to the café. We have time. Don’t have to leave for the airport till eleven.”

  He pulled the bottle of ibuprofen from the kitchen cabinet, shook out two tablets. “Here.” He set them in front of Jenna with a tall glass of water. “Take these, drink all the water. Go get your gear on, and we’ll walk to the café. Some fresh air, one very large flat white, a couple pieces of toast and some orange juice, and you’ll be yourself again.”

  “Promise?” she asked, squinting up at him.

  “I promise.”

  “I have a bad feeling,” she said cautiously as they made their way toward the café, Harry and Sophie dashing ahead. “That I may have . . . said some things last night.”

  He smiled. “You may have, at that. Fortunately, I have a shocking memory.”

  “I didn’t . . . do anything, did I?” She looked up at him. “I have a really bad feeling that I kissed you.”

  “Could be. In a purely sisterly way,” he assured her. “Which is also receding quickly from the memory banks.”

  “I was that good, huh,” she said gloomily. “I figured.”

  He laughed aloud, then apologized as he saw her wince at the sound. “Sorry. Forgot. You do realize you’ve put me in the classic no-win situation here, though. If I say, yeh, completely unmemorable, you’re offended. And if I say, too right, I had all I could do not to take you to bed, you’re even more offended. And you quit, just when I’m off to Argentina for ten days. What’s a fella to do?”

  She smiled painfully. “We’ll just leave it at that, I guess. But please remind me, next time, that there’s a reason I only drink one glass of wine.”

  “Never had a hangover before, eh,” he said sympathetically.

  “No,” she sighed. “Not like this. Sorry. You must be wondering who you’ve entrusted your kids to.”

  “Nah,” he decided. “I like it. Makes you human. I was beginning to wonder if you were an android.” He grinned down at her startled look. “Not like you went on the piss while you were watching the kids. And you’ll be apples by the time you drive me to the airport. If a bit tender, still.”

  “I will,” she promised. “If there’s any doubt of it, I’ll call you a taxi. I wouldn’t endanger your kids, Finn. You know that.”

  “I do,” he agreed. “And once I get a coffee into you, you’ll be back to your perfect self.” He gave her another grin. “My android.”

  Chapter 15

  “But I want to go!” Sophie wailed, sitting up in bed. “You said we could! You promised, Daddy!”

  “Be sensible, Sophie,” Finn told her firmly. “You and your brother’ve had the bot ever since I got home, and Jenna’s been run ragged looking after you. Even if you’re feeling better by tomorrow, Harry’s still not too flash. I’m not having you up late tomorrow night, all that excitement. Or letting Jenna wear herself out getting you to the park.”

  “She could just take me,” Sophie argued. “You could get Miriam to look after Harry.”

  “Sophie! That’s dead selfish,” he rapped out. “I just told you how knackered Jenna was. You’re sounding so spoilt, I don’t even want to tell you the plan we’ve nutted out.”

  “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she said, beginning to cry. “I didn’t mean to be selfish. I just want to see you play so much. I’ve been thinking and thinking about it.”

  “Aw, geez,” he said helplessly, sitting down on her bed and pulling her into his lap. “I know it’s disappointing, darling. I wanted you both to come too. But things happen sometimes. You know that. Do you want to hear our plan?”

  She nodded, still tearful, and he handed her a tissue. “Blow.”

  Once he’d cleaned her up, he went on. “You know that we’re playing the Boks in Wellington next week. Jenna’s offered to take you both down for the match. So you see, you’ll have your chance to watch your old Dad run round the paddock in the black jersey after all.”

  “Do we get to stay with you?” Sophie demanded.

  “I’ll come stay with all of you, afterwards,” he promised. “And we’ll have a wee holiday on the Sunday, come back Monday morning.”

  “We have school Monday,” she reminded him.

  “So you do. Think you can stand to miss a few hours?” he asked seriously.

  Her broad smile left no doubt of her approval. “I think it’s a brilliant plan, Dad.”

  “No more whingeing about tomorrow night, then,” he reminded her. “No pestering Jenna to take you.”

  “I promise.”

  “You won’t forget to watch me on the telly, barrack for me, will you?” he asked in mock alarm. “Not going to boycott me? You know you’re my good-luck charm.”

  Sophie threw her arms around him. “You know I’ll watch you, Dad. I’ll even make Harry watch,” she promised extravagantly.

  He laughed. “Nah. Harry isn’t a rugger bugger like you. No worries. You just send me those winning thoughts.”

  He put his finger on her forehead, and she reciprocated with her own. “Bzzzzz,” they said together.

  He gave her a hug and kiss, tucked her into bed again. “Night, Sophie Bee.”

  “Night, Daddy. I love you.”

  “Love you too, darling. Sleep tight.”

  He turned out the light, left the door open a crack. Met Jenna coming out of Harry’s room.

  “Did you tell her?” she asked.

  “Yeh. She was disappointed about tomorrow, right enough. But surprisingly, she’s willing to miss out on a bit of school to come see me play next week.”

  She laughed. “What a shock.”

  “Harry OK?” he asked, serious again now.

  “Better,” she nodded. “I gave him some cough syrup. Hopefully he’ll have a better night.”

  “I’ll go say goodnight, then.”

  How had he got so lucky? He wondered as he closed Harry’s door again and made his way back to the lounge for a last bit of quiet time before game day. He may not have had an award-winning marriage. And Heaven knew he’d stuffed up enough as a dad, hadn’t had a clue what he was doing most of the time. But somehow, with enough help and plen
ty of good luck, he’d wound up with the best kids a man could ask for.

  Jenna felt as if she were dragging herself up the stone steps to the big villa on Monday night. She’d cried quietly throughout the bus ride to the Wellington Airport, then the hourlong flight home. Had sat numb, finally drained of tears and emotion, on the Airporter bus back to Mt. Eden. She hoped Finn had got the kids to bed on time. She couldn’t face them tonight.

  She let herself in quietly, but not quietly enough. Finn came to the door of the lounge while she was taking off her jacket and shoes. He began to greet her, stopped short as she turned and he saw her face.

  “What’s wrong? What’s happened?” he asked sharply. “Are you ill?”

  “No. Just a hard day. I’m all right.” She took a deep breath. “Did the kids get to bed OK? Harry still doing all right?”

  “Course.” He looked at the way she was hugging herself. “You’re freezing.” He pulled his sweatshirt from its hook and handed it to her. “Put this on and come sit with me a minute, warm up. I’ve got the heat pump on in there. If there’s a problem, maybe I can help. Call someone.”

  She laughed tiredly, but went with him into the lounge and sank onto the couch. Pulled the sweatshirt around her, grateful for its comforting size and warmth. “I don’t think your connections are going to help with this one. I don’t even know why I’m so upset about it. I should be relieved. I thought I would be.”

  “Sounds like this problem requires alcohol. I’ll get you a glass of wine, and you can tell me. I was having a beer anyway.”

  He disappeared, came back with a generously poured glass. “Pinot Noir. Your favorite. Where did you get off to today, anyway? Didn’t realize you’d be gone by the time we got up.” He picked up his own beer bottle and sat in the easy chair across from her, propping his stockinged feet on the coffee table.

  “Wellington. For my dissolution hearing.” She might as well tell him. She didn’t have anyone else to talk to about it right now. The thought made tears of self-pity well in her eyes again, and she dashed them away impatiently.