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  “Nah.” His hand was on her instep, thumb stroking the delicate spot at her inner ankle where the pulse beat. He could feel it picking up now as his own foot continued to move gently over her. “I’ll try to make it more pleasant this time. Get you all the way there, too. But I do need you over here.” He gave a little tug. “Time to shift yourself.”

  “Love how you do what I say,” he told her as she came to him. “Have I mentioned that?”

  “Mmm. Just because you have good ideas,” she murmured as he reached out to position her over him, raised his hands to her breasts, soft and slick with the bath oil. “I do like it in the water,” she sighed.

  “And I like it everywhere,” he said, beginning to move her as she curled against him. “Every way.”

  It was true, he thought now, looking at her and knowing she was remembering too. It had all been so good. Slow and tender, or hard and fast. Like the time he hadn’t been able to wait until they got back to the bure, after dinner. And had pulled her between two outbuildings, taken her against the wall. And had had to make it up to her later. Which had been fun too.

  Her eyes widened at the look in his own. She shifted her gaze, glanced down, then looked up again in confusion, the blush creeping up her cheeks.

  “Sorry,” he said ruefully. “Can’t help it.”

  “It’s not right,” she said in distress. “You’re engaged.”

  “Yeh. Thought we could do this, but better not, eh.”

  “Mum!” Nic was running towards them now, and they both turned to him in thankful relief. The boy was holding a piece of driftwood, twisted and shaped by the water into a sinuous curve. “Doesn’t this look like a dragon?”

  “Taking that home, mate?” Nic asked him.

  “I’m going to put it on my shelf,” Zack told him. “With my stone. It’s a treasure. There are heaps of good things over here. Come see!”

  “We need to get back anyway,” Emma decided. “Time to go. Oh, my bag.”

  “I’ll get it,” Nic told her. Loped off and was soon headed back again. Emma took Zack’s hand and set off, leaving Nic to follow behind, wrestling with his confused thoughts.

  “See, Mum?” Zack said when they got to the spot where the angle of the shore had resulted in a collection of driftwood. “Isn’t it cool? I thought you’d like it. Because they’re interesting, aren’t they?”

  “They are!” she agreed with delight. She zeroed in on a short section of log that had been battered by time and tide, the cylindrical shape perfectly flat at both ends. “Wouldn’t this be a great end table?” She ran her hands over it, taking obvious pleasure in the smooth surfaces, the dips and bulges. “I wish I could take it.”

  “Why not?” Nic asked.

  She sighed. “I could get it back to your car if we were closer. We could roll it, huh, Zack? But it’s too far.”

  Nic picked it up, tested its weight. “Not too bad. D’you really want it? I can bring it along, if you do.”

  “It’s too heavy,” she objected. “And too far back to the car.”

  He hefted it a couple times. “Nah. Not even 20 kilos, I reckon. And less than a kilometer to the carpark. No worries. D’you want it?”

  “As long as you don’t hurt yourself,” she said dubiously.

  “Do me a favor,” he said, pained. “I may not be a forward. Just a lowly fullback. But I can shift this.”

  “It’s so awesome!” Zack was bouncing along next to her, hardly able to contain himself. “You get to have a new table, Mum! Because Nic’s strong!”

  Emma smiled down at him. “We’ll walk fast, all the same. It’s still a long way for him to carry that heavy thing, no matter what he says.”

  The carpark didn’t turn up any too soon, Nic admitted to himself. He didn’t want to think how much of his offer had come from wanting to impress both of them. Because this thing was bloody heavy. He set it down next to the ute, careful to avoid any exhalation of breath that would have given away his relief at being shed of the burden. Rummaged for his keys and opened the back, hefted the load into the Toyota and slammed the door on it.

  “I can’t believe you did that,” Emma said. She had cast him continual worried glances on the walk back. “I really do want it, but you didn’t have to.” She toweled herself and Zack off as best she could to remove the worst of the sand, then handed the towel to Nic. “We’re going to get things pretty sandy, too.”

  “That’s why I have a ute,” he reminded her. “That’s the idea.”

  “Yeh, Mum,” Zack put in. “When we went camping, it got really muddy, didn’t it, Nic?”

  “It did. That was a pretty wet trip, wasn’t it, mate? Bit of a challenge.”

  “Yeh,” Zack agreed, dropping his eyes.

  “Oi,” Nic said gently. “Look at me.” He waited until Zack obeyed, then went on. “I told you, you did fine.”

  “I cried, though,” Zack said in a small voice.

  “Because you’re six. And it was the first time, and you missed your Mum. Come on, now. Let’s get you back home and into that bath. Because, mate. You’re carrying enough sand on you to set up your own beach.”

  He pulled up into the steep driveway in front of the house, brought the Toyota to a stop and set the brake.

  “I’ll just take this thing in for you, put it where you want it,” he told Emma. “You OK?” he asked in a lower voice, as she bent to gather their things.

  “Yeah.” She smiled briefly at him, then was out of the ute and ushering Zack to the front door. He popped the latch on the back, pulled out the heavy piece of wood, then set it down to close the back again. She’d been so quiet on the way back. He could tell she was feeling awkward. No more of these outings without Claudia, he decided. It had felt too much like a family. Too confusing for all of them.

  By the time he’d made it into the flat with the driftwood, she already had Zack in the bath. Nic shifted the load in his arms. “Where d’you want this?”

  She ran to the end table between the chair and the couch. “Right here.” She moved the lamp, then pulled the table aside to make a space.

  He set the piece down where she indicated. “Got a particular way you want it?” He twisted and turned it until it was arranged to her satisfaction, then stood up again.

  “Mind if I wash my hands?” he asked.

  “Of course. Go ahead and use the bathroom sink. Zack won’t mind. He’s not that modest,” she told him, her smile returning at last.

  “Want me to take that other thing away?” he asked when he came back, indicating the end table. “Not good for much.”

  “No. I’ll take it back to the Op Shop. That’s where I got it in the first place. Recycling,” she said ruefully.

  “I’ll put it in your boot, then,” he decided, picking it up.

  “You don’t have to do that,” she objected.

  “I know I don’t. I will anyway. Walk me out, will you?”

  She stood aside in silence as he stowed the table in the boot of her car, then slammed the lid and turned towards his own car.

  “That was a good day,” he told her as they walked down the driveway together. “More fun than I’ve had in ages.”

  “Too much fun,” she said. She looked up at him, eyes troubled. “I don’t want to . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  “Yeh,” he agreed with a sigh. Stopped at the ute, fingered the keys in his hand. “Too much history, I reckon.”

  “That’s it,” she said with relief. “Anyway. Zack will see you Monday. Have a good weekend. What’s left of it.”

  Chapter 18

  “I’m home!” he called out, shutting the oversized entry door behind him. “Claud?”

  She came to meet him, pulled back at the sight of him. “What have you been doing to yourself? Rolling in the sand?”

  “Yeh,” he smiled. “Just about. It was brilliant, actually. You should’ve come. Did you have a good day?”

  “Had lunch with Cassandra,” she said. “We did some talking.”


  “Sounds good. I’ll go take a shower, OK? And we can do some talking ourselves. Or whatever.” He reached to kiss her, felt her withdrawal. “Something wrong?” he asked, pulling back with a frown.

  “Go take your shower,” she told him.

  He came back downstairs afterwards, went to the fridge for a beer. The game wouldn’t be on for a couple hours yet. He wondered if he should’ve made plans to watch with a teammate. Claudia hadn’t been to a match since before he’d found Zack. And she hadn’t seemed too keen on watching tonight’s. He went and sat on the couch next to her, took a pull at the bottle. Two was all he’d allow himself, with the semis coming up. He’d enjoy every sip of this one.

  “Wish you could’ve been there today,” he told her again. “It’d be better, I think. Besides, you really do need to meet Emma, and Zack. Because I want to get the visitation sorted, and she isn’t going to agree to that if she’s never met you. I was thinking, when we go to the bach after the final, maybe they could come up for a couple days.”

  “To stay with us?” Claudia asked in disbelief. “No.”

  “They could sleep in the Little House,” he suggested. “I know it’s all a bit irregular, but it’s an irregular situation, isn’t it? All you have to do is be civil to her. And get to know Zack a bit. That’s easy. He’s a great kid.”

  “No,” Claudia said again. “If he really has to come, it’ll have to be without her.”

  He sighed. “Remember what happened last time? She doesn’t want him alone with me overnight. We’ll have them up for a couple days, and that’ll do it, I’m sure. Just relieve her mind a bit. I don’t want to spend time with them without you anymore,” he admitted, taking her hand. “It’s not feeling like a good idea.”

  “It’s not feeling like a good idea to me either,” she said. She disengaged her hand, went and sat on the opposite couch. Settled into what he thought of as her Lawyer Pose, perched upright, legs together, hands on her knees. “You need to decide what’s most important to you, Nic. Your priorities have shifted, and it isn’t working for me.”

  “What d’you mean?”

  “I’m going to be your wife. I should be the most important person in the world to you. But you seem more interested in Zack, more committed to him, than you are to me. And that’s not acceptable.”

  “He’s my son. It’s not a matter of choosing. It’s fitting him into our life.”

  “But I don’t want to fit him into my life,” she said. “This isn’t what I signed on for. I’ve given it a lot of thought, and this isn’t going to work for me. Not the way you’re doing it.”

  “What way, then?” he asked, his voice hardening. “What would work for you?”

  “If you saw him on your own, the way you’ve been doing. I don’t want to know him. I don’t want to know her. Bad enough that you’re planning to give away our money. But I don’t want them infringing on our life together.”

  “That’s too damn bad,” he said, the anger rising. “Because he’s there. He didn’t ask to be, but he is. And I’m not going to shut him out.”

  “Then,” she said, standing up, “we really have nothing else to discuss, do we?” One elegant hand went to her left ring finger. She pulled off the band, the brilliant stone flashing in the lamplight, held it out to him. “We’re done here. That was my last gasp, just now.”

  He stared at her in shock, got slowly to his feet and took the ring from her. “You’re willing to give up everything we have, over this?”

  “Come on, Nic,” she said impatiently. “It hasn’t really been working for a while now. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

  He shrugged helplessly. “Just thought, you know, the stress of the wedding and all. Work. All that. Besides Zack.”

  “You’ve changed,” she told him. “You used to be like me. Disciplined. Focused.”

  “Hang on, now. You can’t say I’m not disciplined. That’s all I am. All I’ve done, for years now. Meet my bloody obligations. Training. Meetings. Sponsorships. Public relations. What more d’you want me to do?”

  “You aren’t excited about the wedding,” she said, beginning to tick her reasons off on long, slender fingers. “You seem like you want to be anywhere else, when I try to discuss it with you. You keep running off to spend time with Zack, wanting to do things that are ‘fun.’” She made air quotes with her hands around the word. “But mostly, you aren’t giving me the attention and consideration I deserve. I need to come first. I look at our future together, and I don’t like what I see.”

  His jaw felt frozen. He could barely get the words out. “If that’s how you feel. If you aren’t even willing to try. Go to couples counseling, something like that, help us get through this.”

  “I need to come first,” she said again. “And I’m not willing to deal with all this . . . this complication. That’s the bottom line.”

  “Zack’s not a bloody complication. He’s a child. He’s my son.”

  “Well, now you can do all the bonding you like,” she snapped. Then took a breath, shook her hair into place, gathered herself. What kind of woman, Nic wondered, didn’t even get upset when she was breaking her engagement? He was shaking inside, but she barely seemed flustered. How could that be? He might have become more emotional in the past few years, but surely she had got less so.

  “I’ll move out,” she was saying now. “I’ll take some of my clothes now, and come back later for the rest of my things. Thank God we hadn’t combined our finances yet. But I’ll want to take the art that’s mine, the kitchen things.”

  “Whatever.” What did this matter? “D’you have someplace to go?”

  “To Cassandra’s. We discussed it today.”

  “So you’d already decided.”

  “I decided to give you one more chance to choose me. And you didn’t. So . . .” She shrugged again. “We’re done, aren’t we? It’s been pretty good. It’s gone now, that’s all. I don’t feel the same way about you I once did. And I suspect, if you look down deep, you’ll say the same.”

  “I was still trying, though,” he said. “Reckon that’s the difference.”

  “No point in trying when it’s over. Will you carry my suitcases down for me, please?”

  “You already packed?”

  “I was pretty sure. They’re in my closet.”

  He turned without a word, climbed the stairs to the bedroom. Realized he was still holding the ring, shoved it into a pocket. Picked up the two big cases and brought them down for her. Second heavy load he’d carried that day, he thought fleetingly. What a difference a couple hours could make.

  “How’d it go?” Emma asked as she opened the door to Nic’s knock on Monday evening. “You’re early. Brrr. You feel so chilly.” She rubbed Zack’s back, pulled back to hold his hands in hers. “Wet and cold, like a little fish. Let’s get you straight into the bath.”

  “Want to come in for a minute?” she asked Nic. “Cup of tea? Because I’m sure you’re cold too. “

  “I could do with a cup of tea,” he admitted.

  “Can Nic stay for dinner?” Zack asked from inside his shirt as Emma pulled it over his head. “We didn’t have it. Because we got wet.”

  “Can you?” Emma asked him. “Or do you need to get back?”

  “I’d like to stay, if you have enough,” he said. “I don’t need to get back. And I could use the company tonight.”

  She looked at him sharply. Started to say something, then went into the bathroom to help Zack get started.

  “Put your pajamas on when you’re done,” she told him as she pulled the bathroom door mostly shut to keep the heat in. “Get all cozy.”

  “Come into the kitchen with me while I fix something,” she said when she rejoined Nic in the lounge. He’d shed his jacket and shoes, was standing in track pants, hoodie, and socks. “I wish I had something warm for you to wear. But I suspect my dressing gown wouldn’t work as well as yours did.”

  “Probably pink as well,” he said with a little smile. �
��Or it has flowers on.”

  “How’d you guess?” She flipped the switch on the electric jug, pulled out the mugs. Then went out into the lounge again, came back with the afghan.

  “This isn’t pink, anyway,” she told him. “Wrap up a little. You’re making me cold, looking at you.”

  “Not too bad.” But he spread the warm yellow wrap across his lap, accepted the tea she was handing him.

  “It’s just going to be leftovers,” she said apologetically. “I wasn’t expecting you guys. Luckily, I have some chili and corn muffins in the freezer.” She pulled them out, popped the plastic chili container into the microwave and set it to defrost, switched the oven on. Then sat down across from Nic, poured milk into her tea, and stirred.

  “Are you OK?” she asked hesitantly after a moment. “I hope you don’t mind my asking. Because you look terrible, and you didn’t play this weekend, so I know it’s not that.” He didn’t exactly have dark shadows, but the usual gleam was missing from his eyes, and there was a weary look to his face and a slump to his shoulders she’d never seen.

  He stirred his own tea slowly, looking down at the milky surface, before meeting her gaze. “Broke up,” he admitted. “Saturday, after our beach day.”

  “What?” She set her mug down. “You mean, you broke the engagement?”

  “Nah.” He grimaced. “She did.”

  “But . . . why? You’d been together so long,” she said in distress. “It wasn’t me, was it? She didn’t get the wrong idea? Because I can ring her and reassure her that there’s nothing between us, if that’ll help.”

  “It wasn’t you. That is, it was Zack, partly. But partly . . .” He shrugged heavily. “Reckon Zack was just the tipping point. That was when everything turned to custard. Least when I noticed it. I didn’t realize anything was wrong, before that. I thought she was just a bit narked with me, over the wedding arrangements and that. That I wasn’t rapt about the whole thing. But I guess it was. Wrong, I mean.”