“I mean, we were together six months, and he was with her the whole time. I can’t even work out which of us was the other woman. I’m such an idiot.”
“He’s a jerk. You’re not an idiot. How did you find out?”
“She texted him last night when he was in the shower, asking where he was. It was midnight, and he left me and went to her.”
“You just let him go?”
“She can have him.” Mel blinked hard, fighting the tears.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’ll tell you one thing for sure. I’m done with the bad boys once and for all.”
The minute he got on the plane Tucker recognized her, little Melissa Garibaldi, his first love. She looked very different and yet the same. She had the same perfect olive skin, the same long dark hair, and the same slightly tough, don’t mess with me air about her. Of course, she was now wearing the sexy but businesslike uniform of a flight attendant, not shorts and a bikini, and she was definitely all grown up and professional.
She was still like a magnet to him. He was trying very hard not to look at her. She clearly hadn’t recognized him, and he didn’t want to come across as some crazy pervert passenger.
When she’d buckled in for takeoff, directly opposite him, he was about to introduce himself, or really reintroduce himself because he hadn’t seen her in years and years, but then she and her friend started in on a sordid and clearly important discussion about her boyfriend cheating on her. So, he’d held off and tried to look like his newspaper was fascinating and that he could not hear the intimate details of her breakup.
What sort of a tool two-timed a woman like that? Tucker would love to get his hands on that loser and teach him some manners. But then girls like Mel, tough, smart, sexy girls, seemed too often go for guys like that. Tucker Bowen was living proof that nice guys did not usually get the girl.
Tucker had spent more time in the friend zone in his life than was decent for any man. Even now when he was successful, and by any measure not a bad catch, he always seemed to lose the girl to some guy who didn’t deserve her.
Not that he was after Mel Garibaldi, that ship had sailed off into the sunset when he was sixteen. Still, he wouldn’t mind grabbing a drink and catching up with her, for old times’ sake. He’d find a moment this flight if that was the last thing he did.
Halfway through the flight, the guy in the front row waved her over.
“Mel Garibaldi? It’s me, Tucker.”
“Tucker? Oh my gosh, I didn’t even recognize you. I thought you were still in America.”
“No, I’ve been back for about six years. I live in Brisbane, mainly.”
“Wow.” This Tucker looked nothing like the gangly sixteen-year-old version. He was tall and had sandy hair and broad shoulders. He looked good, Mel thought.
“So, an air hostess? You always said you couldn’t wait to get away, and now you do it daily,” he said, smiling at her. She couldn’t help but notice it was a perfect, warm smile.
“I guess so. Listen, Tucker, I can’t really talk right now, I have to work.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. “Take this. Call me or email. I’d love to catch up.”
“Sure, thanks. I will.”
She slipped the card in her pocket and went to prepare the cabin for landing. Tucker Bowen, wow, that was a blast from the past.
Then her mind returned to the present and the fact that her boyfriend was a two-timing jerk and it was only seven in the morning and she had four more flights today before she could climb back into bed and cry herself to sleep. It was only the first week in January, and already her year was looking like it was going to be utter rubbish.
Mel hadn’t called. He hadn’t been surprised by that to be honest. She’d been preoccupied by her breakup on the day they met, and he’d noticed she had slipped his card into her pocket without even glancing at it.
No, Tucker wasn’t surprised, but he was a bit disappointed. They’d been friends back in the day, and it wasn’t as if he was asking her for a date, just two old friends catching up. Well, in truth he would have loved a date, but he didn’t even go there.
So, when he saw her at the airport again two weeks later, wheeling her suitcase through the terminal, her sexy little butt swaying along, Tucker had a decision to make. He could keep walking, or he could give it the old college try. His eyes looked at that bottom of hers again, and he moved.
Sure, he was probably giving her one more chance to blow him off, but he had to take it. It wasn’t that the sight of her still did something to his insides that made him move, oh no, this was just about friendship, or so he told himself.
Okay, he didn’t buy that either, but Tucker could sell it. He was the guy constantly relegated to the friend zone by beautiful women. He wasn’t sure why that was exactly. Not enough of an utter bastard, he supposed. He’d considered becoming one, you know, just to see if it worked for him, but the truth was he really didn’t want to spend his time being mean to some girl he really liked. He supposed he could get a motorbike, but he’d lost his best mate back in the states on one, and he’d rather be alive in the friend zone than dead.
So, Tucker approached Mel with friendship in mind.
It had been a long two weeks. The breakup had been messier and somehow even more soul-destroying than Mel expected. She’d broken up with guys before, and definitely had her heart broken more than once, but somehow realizing that the guy she’d been dating had been dating someone else the entire relationship messed with her head. How had she missed all the signs? Why had she been sucked in? What was wrong with her? It was like a chorus of questions running around her mind twenty-four hours a day.
The worst part was the pity. Somehow, Mel had gone from kick-ass stewardess and part-time yoga teacher to someone people pitied. She did not like it one little bit.
It was the end of another long day, and she was walking through the terminal when she heard someone calling her name.
“Mel. Melissa Garibaldi.” She turned and saw Tucker working his way through the people toward her. “Wait up, Mel.”
“Oh hey, Tucker.”
“Hey, Mel. You didn’t call so . . .”
“Sorry, I’ve been . . .”
“Busy?”
“Yeah, let’s go with busy.” The truth was she’d pulled Tucker’s card out of her uniform and put it on her desk and never even read it. She didn’t even know what he did for a living.
“No problem. Well, I’m in town overnight. I was wondering if you’d be up for a drink, or dinner.”
The truth was Mel was exhausted, and like every night for the last two weeks, her sofa was calling her back. Still, she did have to eat.
“Where are you staying?”
“City, but I can come to you. Where do you live?” They were walking in step toward the exit.
“Balmain.”
“Cool, you pick a pub or a restaurant, and I’ll meet you there.”
He didn’t appear to have luggage.
“Or you could just come home with me.” A strange smile lit his face. “You know what I mean, not like that, Tucker. And then we can go to dinner.”
“Sure, sounds good.”
“Okay, this way.” They headed toward her car.
“So, I saw Henry a while back. He was in Brisbane,” he said.
“Oh, how was that?” Mel asked, but she didn’t care. She loved her brother, but his social life didn’t interest her.
“Good. It’s weird to think that he’s a teacher, molding young minds and all that?”
She laughed. “Yeah, considering how much he hated school . . . especially after you moved away. And it’s even weirder that he’s teaching back at Bayside High. I mean, imagine working where you went to school. Weirdness.”
“I know, but he seems happy. Is his wife nice?”
“Bree? Yeah, she seems nice. She’s pretty quiet, and I don’t get up there much and they don’t really ever come to Sydney, so I don’t know her super we
ll, but they seem happy.”
The truth was Mel was pretty sure Bree wasn’t a huge fan of hers. Bree was old school, and Mel was sure Bree thought she should be living in her old hometown near her parents or at least visiting more often.
“Didn’t she go to school with you?”
“No, she went to the Christian high school.”
Pretty soon they were in the car making their way through the bumper-to-bumper traffic.
“So, Tucker, I gather you’re not married. Or maybe you are?”
“Nope, single. You?”
“Yes, single also.”
“That surprises me,” he said.
“Yeah,” she said bitterly, “it kind of surprises me too.”
A taxi driver cut her off, and she yelled some choice expletives at him.
“Wow, that’s not the Mel I remember.” He chuckled.
“Yeah, well, I’m not fourteen anymore, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Oh, I’ve definitely noticed.”
Yep, this Mel could swear like a truck driver, and she drove like a freaking lunatic. It was a white-knuckle drive across the city to the inner-city suburb where she lived. Tucker liked this area. It was made up of terraces and old workmen’s cottages that had been bought up by people who wanted to live close to the city and avoid a long commute. It was gentrified, but it had old-world charm. As an architect, it was an area that gave him lots to look at and think about. It was a peninsula that jutted out into the harbor; there was water in every direction if you just looked for it.
Also, he was relieved to see, it was a low speed zone area. Hopefully that would slow Mel down.
He took a surreptitious glance at her. He didn’t want to look like he was looking, and he felt like he really needed to keep his eyes on the road, to brace for the next near miss.
Mel was still beautiful. She had on more makeup than he’d ever seen on a woman, and he’d dated a model once. He wondered what she looked like when that mask and the sexy uniform came off. If she slipped on jeans and a T-shirt and peeled off that makeup, he suspected she looked almost the same as she had at fourteen, except now she had boobs as well. So that made her a better version of the old Mel, physically at least.
An image of the last day he saw her, the day he kissed her, popped into his head. It was like a movie he had played in slow motion in his head for years. Her on the trampoline in a floral pink bikini and him leaning in for one chaste kiss.
Yep, somewhere that girl was hiding in there.
Tucker followed Mel up to her apartment. It was a small one-bedroom in an older building down by the water. The building was an ugly redbrick monstrosity, but the views of the harbor and the ferries coming and going made up for it. Also, it was hers. No roommates, parents, or siblings. At last, she had a place where she could do what she pleased.
“This is nice,” he enthused. “It’s a great spot.”
“You know what they say about location.” Mel shrugged. “Where are you in Brisbane?”
He named an older suburb full of traditional Queenslanders.
“I’m going to go change and take a quick shower. I’ve been up since four this morning. Grab a beer if you’re thirsty.”
“Thanks.”
The apartment wasn’t big. A living room with a dining alcove and a small balcony with room for a tiny table and two chairs. There was a small galley kitchen. Mel’s bedroom led off the living area, and the bathroom was off of that. She closed the bedroom door and unzipped her black skirt and peeled off her blouse.
Mel took a moment to breathe, then picked up Tucker’s card off her desk. Architect. That was impressive. What did she think Tucker would do for a living? Back in the day Mel would have said computer nerd, but now, the new improved Tucker, she honestly hadn’t thought about it.
She peeled off her underwear and ran the shower. So, Tucker was an architect who lived in a swanky Brisbane suburb and who, it turned out, looked pretty damn good all these years later.
After lathering up some mango body wash, she gave her legs a quick shave. Still, he was Tucker. The boy next door. The nice, sweet boy next door.
She turned off the shower and slathered on some body butter. Her work makeup was still in place from the morning. Her mother described it as bulletproof the last time she saw her. She hadn’t meant it as a compliment, but Mel chose to take it as one. Part of her job was to look impeccable all day, and the bulletproof makeup was part of that.
Next, she pulled on a pink strapless bra and matching panties; no one would be seeing them, but she always wore matching underwear. It was a hot night, so she grabbed a sleeveless dress that was really just a long, pink tube top. She added sequined flip-flops and flip-flopped her hair for good measure.
Ten minutes after she had left him, Mel found Tucker sitting on her small balcony watching the boats on the water. He had a beer in front of him. He stood when she appeared, and something flicked in his eyes.
“You look great, Mel.”
“Thanks. I’m glad you found the drink . . . sorry to abandon you, but those uniforms are so restrictive. First chance, I like to peel it off.”
He looked like he was going to say something but thought better of it. “I feel the same way when I wear a suit. Did you want a drink?”
“Sit, I’ll get it.”
“Have you lived here long?” he called out to her retreating back.
“About a year, I guess. I moved in last February.”
“From?”
“I was sharing houses before, so this is the first place that has been all mine.”
“It’s a beautiful thing when you no longer have roommates,” he said. “My last roommates in London were a couple of the messiest Irishmen you could ever meet. Fun to go to the pub with but living with them . . .” He shook his head as if trying to dislodge the memory.
The pub she chose was only a couple of blocks from her house. It was pretty empty on this hot January night. Like the rest of urban Australia, Balmain was still empty because its residents were off enjoying the summer sun up and down the coast. Australia’s cities were used to this summer exodus, and it made life especially easy for those that remained behind. No traffic, no queues, and seats at their favorite restaurants.
Tucker went to the bar and ordered their drinks. French Champagne for her and beer for him.
She was seated at a corner table.
She smiled at him as he walked toward her. The first genuine smile he’d seen from her, and it hit him in the guts. That was the girl he remembered.
“So tell me the Tucker story,” she said as he settled into his seat.
“Shall I go with the abridged version?”
“Probably, it’s a lot of years,” she said, raising her glass in a toast.
“Yeah, we were toasting with soda back then. Okay, went to San Francisco for high school, UCLA. Now I’m an architect. I’m at a medium-sized firm in Brisbane. The end.”
“I think you can give me a little more than that.” She laughed. “So, why Brisbane?”
“I applied for a few jobs there and in Sydney when I was moving back, and that’s the one I got. Why Sydney?”
“Went to uni in North Queensland, started work as a travel agent, saw Adventure Airlines was coming to Australia, and flew down for an interview. Got the job.”
“We’re a pragmatic pair,” he said.
“Truthfully, I was thrilled it was in Sydney. I needed a change and I wanted a big city, and here in Australia, it’s the biggest.”
“Do you go home much?”
She shook her head. “I overnight in Cairns about once a month, and my mum comes across and stays with me. It’s nice actually. She gets out of town, and we catch up, without the boys.”
“How are your folks?” She filled him in on the family gossip. What her four brothers were doing, her dad’s plumbing business. Everyone was still in town but her.
“I miss it sometimes,” she confessed. “Don’t tell them, though. They’re all or nothin
g people, you’re in or you’re out. Sometimes I’d like to be there for a crazy family barbeque on a Sunday afternoon and just sink into the madness, but mainly I’m happy.”
“They were always full-on. I loved it, coming to your place. I was just another kid, there was always an extra sandwich or whatever, it was so easy. But crazy.”
“Well, you did have about the quietest house in town, certainly on our block.”
He certainly had. Tucker’s parents worked in IT from home; it was unheard of back then. They developed an antivirus software. But they both beavered away in an office all day, and he was expected to amuse himself. It wasn’t that they didn’t love him, it was just that most of what they did went on in a different plane that wasn’t so kid-friendly.
“It hasn’t changed. I think they speak almost entirely by text and messaging now, even though they’re in the same room.”
“That’s a bit weird.” She scrunched her nose at him. He’d forgotten she did that.
“It’s insane.”
Her tummy let out a rumble. “Oh my gosh, so sorry. It’s been a long day.”
“Don’t be sorry. Let’s order, what would you recommend?”
Tucker was ordering at the bar.
Mel took a moment to check her phone messages. Greg was still texting. She was not taking that scumbag back, so why wouldn’t he just give up and go away? It made it so hard to move on. Bastard.
Why wasn’t he a decent guy like Tuck? She had to admit Tuck was cute. He was tall, and he had impossibly long eyelashes. She hadn’t noticed that as a kid, then again, on reflection, she hadn’t noticed all that much. He’d just been one of the many males who came through the house. No, that wasn’t true, he’d been quieter and much nicer to her than most. He’d actually talked to Mel rather than grunt at her or crash-tackle her.
He was much more normal than she expected. If she’d thought about Tucker, she would have assumed he would be a huge computer geek like his folks. Yet here he was, a successful architect who looked and acted like a regular Joe.
Be Mine: Valentine Novellas to Warm The Heart Page 2
