Stone Cold Kiwi (New Zealand Ever After Book 2)

by Rosalind James

  Now, I did grab her. Or I didn’t. I put out my hand and found her shoulder, and she moved closer, reached for me, and kissed me. A soft thing. A sweet thing.

  We should have talked, maybe. We didn’t. I kissed her instead, and then I did it some more. Still in the dark. Still wordless. Me over her, and after a while, her over me. Stroking hands, seeking mouths. Our breath quickening, and forcing myself to take it easy all the same, to tell her with my care and my attention and my patience everything I hadn’t been able to say earlier, when I’d come down over her like a wolf on the fold.

  When she was on top of me, riding me slowly, finding her pace, finding the perfect spot, I held her hips and let her do it. When I couldn’t stand it anymore, I held her hips and drove her down, and she started making some noise. And when we’d finished at last and she’d rolled off me, I closed my eyes. The last thing I was aware of before I drifted off again was her hand on my chest, her lips brushing my shoulder, her warmth all around me.

  When I woke again, it was to daylight. To running feet and voices on the stairs, and the excited barking of a dog.

  This should be interesting.

  Poppy

  I’d woken with the light to find Buddy whining faintly and politely beside me and had stumbled downstairs with him, extremely and unusually naked. I’d rattled the kibble into his dish and filled his water bowl and noted that he’d used his dog door. At least, there were no puddles visible.

  My breasts were swollen, and I should have taken care of that, but I’d gone back to bed instead, just for a few minutes. Max wouldn’t be back to drop off Isobel until nine, and right now, Matiu was still asleep, and he was so beautiful.

  He was on his stomach, one big hand flung up to grip the pillow, the blue-black ribbons of his tattoo, with their chevrons and flax-basket curves, standing out against his skin. I didn’t want to wake him, so I didn’t.

  Something had happened last night. He’d needed me, and I’d been here. Now, though, he needed to sleep. What time had he come in? Three? Four?

  I’d sleep with him for a few minutes more, and then I’d get up.

  The next thing I knew, somebody was shouting, “Mummy!” Buddy was barking, and I was jerking up to sitting, throwing a hand over my eyes against the sun, streaming in from blinds I hadn’t closed last night.

  Hamish practically skidding to a stop beside the bed, Olivia, oblivious, scrambling onto it. Buddy prancing around Hamish, doing his play-bow to try to get his attention. And Max, standing there holding Isobel in her carrier.

  “Why is Matiu in your bed, Mummy?” Olivia asked, crawling straight over Matiu’s legs to get to me. He was sitting up, too. Looking bemused at first, and then not. Because he was looking at Max.

  I pulled the sheet up over me. A bit belatedly, but there you were. Matiu’s clothes and my nightdress were scattered haphazardly over the floor. The nightdress was a short, white babydoll thing. I hadn’t even worn the matching thong, and Max must have recognized it, because he was staring at it, then at me, like we didn’t compute. He said, “For God’s sake, Poppy. What are you thinking? What are you doing?” As if he couldn’t believe this. As if it were impossible.

  You? He was practically saying. But you’re a mother! And so ... fat!

  “Is Violet with you?” I asked.

  “What?” Max asked. Isobel must have smelled me, because she started making some noise. Now, he was staring at her as if he needed someplace else to put his eyes. He couldn’t believe that a nursing mother, or maybe just that I, would have rip-our-clothes-off sex. Not with a new partner, because who would want me?

  Max was one very confused man.

  “Did she come with you?” I asked him again.

  “Yes,” Hamish said, when Max didn’t answer. “But she stayed in the car.”

  Max said, “What does that matter? I’d like to know why you think this is all right. Here you’ve had me feeling guilty all this time. You made Violet cry last night, she was so crushed after you said whatever you did to her, because she wouldn’t even tell me. And you’ve been sleeping with him? With the kids here? How long has this been going on?” He stared at Isobel some more, and now, I could read the thought like it was written on his face. Are you mine?

  Here’s the thing about cheaters: Cheaters cheat. Cheaters assume other people cheat, too. It makes it easier for them, maybe.

  I couldn’t actually hit him, not with the kids right here, so I said instead, “This is stupid. Leave her with me and go get Violet. Have her watch the kids. She can make them breakfast or something.”

  “Is he going to leave?” Max demanded.

  “Well, no,” I said. “He isn’t.”

  “This is still my house,” he said.

  “You are on such shaky ground,” I told him. Conscious of the kids, of Matiu beside me. He was silent, but he was right there, sitting up straight and tall. His power gathered into himself, his intensity radiating off the charts. How anybody could have thought this man was a lightweight was beyond me.

  “I am?” Max asked. “What do you think you can do about it?”

  Matiu said, “I don’t know what she can do. I know what I can do.” No trace of lightness there, either. His voice was dark, and that was what his face looked like, too.

  “You think you’re going to kick my arse?” Max asked. “I don’t think so, bro.”

  He emphasized the bro. Drawing attention to the fact that Matiu was Maori, taunting him in the only way he had.

  I threw the sheet back and got out of bed fast.

  Yes, I was naked. So what? My kids knew what I looked like naked. They ought to, since I’d hardly been able to go to the toilet by myself for about five years, and my showers could be spectator events as well. I advanced on Max, and when I got there, he flinched.

  I took Isobel’s carrier out of his hand and set it on the floor. I told Hamish, who was still standing in the same spot by the bed as if he were frozen, “Mummy is taking care of this, love. It’s going to be all right. Can you take Olivia and Buddy downstairs for me, please? I need you to be responsible this one time.”

  “OK,” he said. Eyes wide, expression tight. All the way closed down. “Come on, Livvy. We can play stickers.”

  “I don’t want to,” Olivia said from the bed, because of course she did. “I want to stay with Mummy.”

  I sat on the edge of the bed, so close to Matiu that we were touching, and lifted Isobel to my breast.

  Yes, I was a stark-naked, slightly fleshy woman who’d had three orgasms in the last few hours and probably had beard burn on my neck, nursing my baby in front of my lover and my soon-to-be-ex-husband. And I. Did. Not. Care. I told Max, “Go get Violet out of the car. She wants to be a stepmother? It’s time to start.”

  Matiu

  He did it, finally. Took the older kids and headed out again. And I couldn’t get my blood pressure under control. He thought, after everything he’d done, that he still had the right to come into her bedroom? To belittle her there?

  I got my clothes on fast. They were still damp. Poppy said, “I should get you something else to wear.”

  “No,” I said. “You shouldn’t. Tell me where to find something for you to wear, and I’ll get it.”

  “What, because I can’t confront Max naked? I can confront him naked.”

  “I know. You just did.” I leaned over and kissed her mouth. “It was awesome. Let me help you now.”

  She blinked like reason was returning. “Dressing gown, then. Hook in the wardrobe. Undies, too. Bra. Top drawer. Uh ... some top drawer.” She waved a hand. “Go on and look. I don’t have that many secrets. Sadly. I want to. I want to have had a whole secret life. Group sex. Fetishes. I’m trying to think of something else to add, but I can’t. How sad is that?”

  I smiled despite my tension. “Understood. But I’m glad you aren’t having that secret life, all the same. I don’t want to have group sex.” Then I headed off to find her something to wear.

  She was a lover, an
d she was a fighter. That was perfect. I was both of those things myself, as it turned out.

  The wardrobe was a full-on walk-in thing, and more than half of it was empty. Max had clearly been the flash dresser. I took Poppy’s dressing gown off the hook, then searched drawers until I found a pair of bikinis and a bra. Not pretty enough, either of them. Poppy needed to go shopping. She needed to know she was beautiful.

  I brought them out to her anyway, helped her on with the dressing gown, since she was still feeding the baby, then picked up a very nice nightdress from the floor and hung it in the wardrobe.

  I wished I’d had a chance to see it on her. Never mind. Next time.

  After that, I headed into the bath to clean up. I used Poppy’s toothbrush, splashed water on my face, and dried it with a hand towel with my reflection looking back at me. Eyes shadowed, jaw covered with dark scruff. Lines across my forehead and around my eyes, because I was forty-three years old. All of me a far cry from Max’s Beckhamesque blonde good looks.

  But I could still kick his arse.

  I went back out there and took the baby from Poppy to change her. I didn’t ask her if I should leave. I wasn’t going to leave.

  She headed out to the sitting room. Meeting him on more solid ground, I guessed. I followed with Isobel in my arms. As always, she felt exactly right there. She’d smiled at me the entire time while I changed her nappy, and now, she curled into me as if she knew me, and as if she trusted me.

  Max thought she was mine. I wished it were true.

  48

  Not Ridiculous

  Poppy

  Matiu hadn’t run away. I hadn’t even expected him to. He was right here, holding Isobel, and he looked perfectly comfortable doing it.

  I should have sat on the couch, I guessed. I didn’t. Too keyed up. Matiu leaned against the wall with Isobel in his arms. She was chewing her fist and snuggled up with him, because Matiu was very nice to snuggle with. Solid and safe, like that totara tree I’d first imagined.

  I was thinking about that, and then I wasn’t, because there were footsteps on the stairs, and Max was back.

  He glanced at Matiu and asked, “Why is he still here?”

  “Because,” I said, “I want him here.” I’d spent my entire marriage trying to smooth things over, trying not to rock the boat. That time was over.

  It was just like confronting my dad. Except, of course, that Max didn’t love me. One thing was the same, though: I was taking the fight to him. That was why, when he started to say something, I talked over him. “Because I’m starting my life again, just like you, and Matiu is part of it. If we were going to ask questions, though, I could ask you why you brought Violet last night. I could ask you why you cheated on me, and why you lied. I could ask you how many women there were, and why you didn’t even protect Isobel and me. Why you risked your child’s life.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Max said. “Why do you always have to be so dramatic? How did I risk her life?”

  I wanted to hit him. My hands were shaking with the need to do it. I hadn’t meant to say these things. I’d meant to be calm, above the fray. What was the point of fighting?

  I was a ginger, though, and I always would be, and I needed to say this. “You didn’t tell me you were sleeping around. You had sex with me without protecting me, without letting me know so I could have protected myself, and protected Isobel. An STD can cause miscarriage. It can cause stillbirth. It can cause blindness and brain damage. And you didn’t care.”

  More than my hands were shaking now. My voice was, too. Max said, “Stop being hysterical. How do you know I didn’t use condoms?”

  “Did you use one when you asked for oral sex from me?” I asked him. “No. So how about when you asked for it from her? For that matter, how about when you did it for her? Did you use any protection then? You never wanted to do it for me, but I’ll bet you did it for her. A woman that beautiful has standards.”

  “This is a completely distasteful conversation,” Max said. He was flushed himself now. I’d bet I was more flushed, though. “Nobody wants to hear this. He certainly doesn’t.” He jerked his head at Matiu. “Anyway, it didn’t happen. Isobel’s fine, obviously, although if syphilis causes insanity, maybe you’ve got it after all.”

  I took a step. I raised my hand. The red mist was rising in front of my eyes, and I was all the way gone.

  Matiu took a step forward himself. He said, “Poppy. No.” It got through, barely. I took a few breaths, held onto the back of the couch, and fought for control.

  Max ran a hand through his perfect hair and said, “All right, I shouldn’t have said that. But you can’t push me like that and not expect a response.”

  There was so much I could have said. Instead, I dragged my mind back to the point. Which was the kids, and how we moved on from this. I could stay stuck here, my heart and mind and entire self mired in this mess, or I could move on.

  I said, “It doesn’t matter anyway. We’ve got the custody sorted, and we both want what’s best for the kids.” Attempting to be reasonable, you see. I went on, though, because there was one more item that I needed to address. “The only thing left is the money. My attorney’s talking to yours, but I want to make it clear. I’ll agree to an equitable distribution of what we have, and I’ll agree to do it fast, even though I know you’ve been hiding assets. Let’s get this over with so we can get on with our lives.”

  “I haven’t been hiding assets,” Max said. “That’s ridiculous.”

  I’d noticed that “ridiculous” meant, “You’re too close to the truth.” I needed him to know that I knew what he’d done. I wanted him to be scared enough not to try to push for more, not to try to drag it out so that I’d pay him extra just to make it go away. I was willing to do what the law said was fair, even if it actually wasn’t. I wasn’t willing to do more than that. I said, “I know about the gifts to Violet, Max. I know that money’s gone. My dad looked into it, and you know he has the resources to do it right. Do not push me. You’ll get half of my books’ value and half of what the house is worth, and I won’t get much. I know that you’ll be financing your new life on my hard work, and I’ve written it off already in my mind. I’ve let it go.” It was actually true. I didn’t care.

  Well, I cared some. I just didn’t feel as passionate about it as, say, the possibility of my baby dying from a sexually transmitted disease.

  “You love to hold that over my head, don’t you?” Max said. “That you’re better off than I am. Your hard work? Your family’s money, more like.”

  “No,” I said. “I don’t love it at all. But it’s not my job to prop you up. It’s not my job to make you a man.”

  Now, he was the one who looked like he was going to slap me. I stood there and waited for it. He could do it. Matiu would make him pay.

  I don’t know if he thought of that too, because he contented himself with saying, “You’re not exactly making yourself irresistible to Dr. Manwhore over there, you realize. No man wants a raging bitch.”

  “Yeh, nah.” That was Matiu. Normally, his Maori accent was slight. Now, he turned it up to 10. “I’m not fussed. We like our wahine passionate, eh. Specially us manwhores. More exciting between the sheets like that, aren’t they.”

  Max definitely wanted to say something about that. I said, managing to keep it sweet, “Turns out I’m exciting between the sheets after all. Who knew? I just didn’t have an exciting partner, I guess. I don’t even have to fake it anymore, because he can make it happen.”

  All right, I wasn’t moving on quite yet. I needed him to know it, though, and I needed to know I’d said it. “But let’s not talk about that,” I went on, with a fair imitation of smoothness. “I’ve said what I had to say. That I’ve got a very good attorney, and my dad’s on the job as well. Be honest with what you disclose, and it’ll be over fast and you’ll get your half. Try to hide things, and you’ll be sorry. And by the way? You’re not going to get anything from the glamping business. I kept it co
mpletely separate. It’s nothing to do with you.”

  “Probably nothing there anyway,” Max said, “as scatty as you’ve always been.”

  He didn’t know, because I hadn’t even told him that I’d finalized the sale, when Hemi had bought it a few months back. I’d meant to. I just ... hadn’t. Waiting, first, for the check to come through, so I could surprise him, and then ... I don’t know why. Maybe I’d known, somewhere beneath the surface, somewhere I’d been afraid to look, that it wasn’t a good idea to tell him. But then, if I had, maybe he’d have been more careful with Violet, and I wouldn’t have found out. I’d still be stuck in this marriage, and I’d still be thinking it was my fault.

  I said, “I sold it. The profit from the sale was twelve million dollars.” And then I shut my mouth.

  Max opened his. Then he shut it. He looked around wildly. At Matiu. Back at me. I said, “And that’s all I have to say. Other than that Violet seems like a possibly decent person, other than the cheating-with-a-married-man thing, and I’m cautiously glad she’s in the kids’ life. And, yes, I’m sleeping with Matiu. Obviously, as you see. I’ll explain it to the kids, and if you explain about Violet, that’s probably better. Another person to love them, that’s the tack I plan to take. And that their lives will still be mostly the same. We’ll still do fun things. We’ll still draw and sing and play at the playground, and when they’re with you, they’ll do fun things, too, because we both love them very much. For better or worse, the rest of it is over. What’s the point of beating each other over the head, trying to draw blood? I’ve said what I needed to say, and so have you. Could be we just weren’t a match. Time for both of us to make a better one.”

  He was struggling to come up with an answer. I was congratulating myself on finally sounding reasonable. And Hamish was running through the door with Buddy at his heels, saying, “Mummy, I can’t find Livvy. She’s gone.”

  49