When Jace had started publishing the comics online, he’d found a cult following who eagerly awaited the weekly installments. Between places like Reddit, Boredpanda, and Instagram, he’d gained quite the audience. Eventually two Australian newspapers had picked up the strip and now, the Washington Post Writers Group was considering syndicating Hermit vs. World. This storyline had to be perfect if he was going to cement this deal—a deal that could lead to bigger and better things, like possibly a National Cartoonist Society award. Or, what if his comic became the next Peanuts or Calvin and Hobbes?
More importantly, maybe he could help young boys and girls know that it was okay not to be extroverted and loud. That it was okay to prefer books over people, like he did. That being quiet and spending time on art instead of going to parties wasn’t weird—it was simply another way to be.
Jace sat back and stared at his storyboard, drumming his fingers against the edge of his desk. Something wasn’t quite right. He knew where the story needed to go—Hermit had found out the mayor of the town, a stuffy older guy with a ridiculous mustache, had decided to build a bridge from their little island to the mainland. This posed serious problems for Hermit’s desire to keep his hometown as quiet and peaceful as possible. And, more importantly, protect the cabin he’d built for himself so he could live in solitude.
“Yip. Yip, yip, yip!”
Speaking of disturbed solitude…
Jace pushed back on his desk chair and headed into the living room. Truffle was perched dangerously—his front paws balanced against the windowsill overlooking the front yard and his back paws braced against one of the sofa chairs. How he’d gotten into that position, Jace had no idea. Because his tiny Chihuahua body was stretched out in a way that would make it tough for him to move without plunging down into the gap between the chair and the window.
Suddenly realizing he was stuck, Truffle swung his buggy eyes in Jace’s direction as if to say, Uh-oh. I’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll save you, little buddy.”
He wasn’t sure which dog got themselves into more trouble—Truffle and his propensity for climbing on furniture and getting stuck or Tilly, who couldn’t seem to control her wagging tail and kept knocking things off the coffee table. Needless to say, all drinks were now to be kept above Tilly height.
Jace scooped up the Chihuahua. With peace restored, he caught a glimpse of what Truffle had been barking at. Angie stood out front of the mailbox, one hand resting on her bike and the other toying with her hair. Jace’s younger brother, Trent, was talking to her.
He had that wide-smile, hands-shoved-into-his-pockets kind of flirting that had been known to lift any skirt in a hundred kilometer radius. Trent had always been the “lady killer” of the Walters family—a natural-born charmer who could talk his way into, or out of, anything.
For some reason, watching him turn that charm on Angie made Jace feel…well, he wasn’t sure exactly what. But it was…uncomfortable. Given the knowledge that Angie would soon be leaving swirling around in his brain and wreaking havoc on his ability to concentrate on work, maybe it was time for a break.
“What do you think? Should we go and say hi?” He looked down at Truffle. “I think we should.”
Jace strode out to the front yard in time to hear Angie’s tinkling laughter. The sound was like pure happiness, like catching that first perfect wave in the morning when the sun was still the color of butter and the ocean was his alone to conquer. Her cheeks were pink, her hair tied back in a bouncy ponytail that swished this way and that as she shook her head. She was utterly captivating, and she looked utterly captivated…by Trent.
“Hey, bro.” Trent raised a hand in greeting. “I was hoping you’d be home.”
Trent must have come straight from the construction site, as he was still in his work gear—a T-shirt, shorts, and dusty steel-capped boots. His car, a Holden Ute, sat in the street, also streaked with dirt. When they were young, Trent and Jace had often been mistaken for twins instead of brothers despite the two-year age gap between them. That lasted only until Jace got his growth spurt at sixteen, when he’d towered over everyone. All of his brothers, included.
“I didn’t hear you knock,” Jace replied.
“That’s because I got distracted.” Trent turned to Angie and winked. “I was hearing all about some grand plans to revive the activities at the retirement home.”
Jace raised a brow.
“Angie’s on a charge to make Patterson’s Bluff the place to be.” Trent grinned.
“But what about after—” Jace stopped short when he caught Angie shooting him a look and shaking her head behind Trent’s back. That was definitely a “stop talking” face. So she was keeping her departure a secret? Interesting. “After…the town hall.”
“I’ll soldier on,” Angie replied, looking relieved that he hadn’t blown her cover. “Glen Powell isn’t going to knock me down.”
“Ugh, that power-hungry moron.” Trent made a face. “I wish he’d stayed in Mornington. And, for the record, I think your ideas sound great.”
Angie beamed. “Thanks.”
“If you’re free tonight, you should come to the beach. We’ve got a twilight party planned.” He leaned in and nudged her with his elbow. “You can be on my team for cricket.”
The twilight parties were a summertime staple in Patterson’s Bluff—evening beach get-togethers that consisted of volleyball and beach cricket, huge picnic blankets, and food. People often smuggled in beer, even though it was technically against the open container laws. But the local cops turned a blind eye, so long as things didn’t get too rowdy and everyone cleaned up afterward.
It was that kind of town.
“Sure, that sounds great.” She turned and looked at Jace. “Do you want to head down together? We could bring the dogs.”
“Jace?” Trent raised a brow. “Have you met this guy? I’m pretty sure the last time he went to a party, people were still playing music on cassette tapes.”
It was like Trent knew exactly what to say in order to fire up Jace’s competitive streak without meaning to. More than likely, his brother was giving him an out, in case he didn’t want to go. But maybe this time he did. Sure, he didn’t often go to parties. And yeah, maybe he wasn’t the most social person on planet Earth. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t go if he happened to feel like it. And right now, looking into Angie’s pretty brown eyes, he damn well felt like going to a party.
“Let’s bring the dogs,” he said, looking down at Truffle, who seemed as happy as a pig in mud with his little pink tongue lolling out of his mouth. “You sure you’re okay with them?”
“I’ll take the little one,” she said with a cheeky smile.
“You must have some kind of voodoo, Angie.” Trent shook his head. “I’ve been afraid for years Jace would eventually figure out how to live without needing any outside contact with the world.”
Ah, little brothers. The people who had the most power in the world to push your buttons. Jace loved him, but sometimes he wanted to kill him. Right now was one of those times.
“Well, anyway, I need to get out of these work clothes.” Angie gave them both a wave and started to wheel her bike down the side of the house. “I’ll come by later, Jace.”
“See you then.” He gave a nod and watched Angie disappear, the sound of her footsteps on the gravel path quietly crunching away.
“Take a hint, bro.” Trent rolled his eyes and punched Jace on the arm. “I was inviting Angie to the party for a reason, and it wasn’t to have you hanging around.”
“You’re into her?” Even saying it aloud made Jace want to throw something. Not that he was surprised—Angie was cute. And funny. And yeah, sure, she seemed to use more words in a day than he would in a decade, but damn did she look good in those little denim shorts. He was tempted to spill the beans about her need to leave
the country to put his brother off, but that would be a dick move.
“Yeah, I’m into her. She’s hot and she’s sweet as hell. Mum likes her, too.”
Jace blinked. “Since when do you give a shit what Mum thinks?”
“I don’t know.” Trent shrugged and looked very sheepish all of a sudden. “Might not be such a bad thing to date someone the family will like.”
Trent’s last girlfriend had not fallen into that category. Although Jace’s brother was the kind of guy who seemed immune to worrying too much about his relationships—which had less staying power than the latest viral cat video. Along with his famous charm, Trent had the attention span of a goldfish, hence why their eldest brother, Adam, called him the One-Month Wonder.
And Angie has two months…
Jace shook the unsettling thought out of his head. Those two would be a catastrophe together—flighty Trent and overly optimistic Angie? Total disaster waiting to happen. It was his duty to protect them both.
“The dogs need some outdoor time, and it’s probably good that Angie doesn’t walk all the way there on her own,” Jace said. All the way there being barely seven hundred meters in possibly the safest small town in Australia. But one couldn’t be too cautious.
His brother raised a brow. “Seriously?”
“What?”
“You’re so full of shit. You like her.”
“Of course I do. She’s nice.”
Trent shook his head. “No, man. You like her.”
“I don’t,” Jace insisted. “Not like that.”
He was…protective of her. That’s all. She was on her own in a foreign town. Totally reasonable.
Plus, according to his ex, he was no good in a relationship. She’d wanted a dreamer and a romantic, and Jace was neither of those things.
“Then you don’t mind if I ask her out?” Trent folded his arms over his chest. Why did he wear his T-shirts so damn tight? It looked like he was a grown man trying to shop in the kids’ section.
“It’s your call. I think she’s really sweet, and I’d hate to see you chew her up and spit her out like you’ve done with every other woman you’ve dated.”
For a moment, Trent didn’t say anything. Yeah, okay. Maybe this was another one of those instances where he was being too blunt.
“Tell me how you really feel.” Trent shook his head, but then his expression changed like the wind had blown his worries out to the ocean. “Anyway, I didn’t come here to shoot the shit. I need a hand. My laptop’s playing up.”
Sighing, Jace let his brother lead him over to his Ute, where the computer was sitting on the front seat. He would have to get his head in the game. He couldn’t let Angie fall under his brother’s spell, not when she was going through so much stuff in her own life. And it wasn’t like he was being a horrible person by cockblocking his brother. He was simply helping Angie avoid the pain of inevitably getting dumped by Trent when some shiny new thing caught his attention. Really, he was being a Good Samaritan.
Yeah, buddy. Keep telling yourself that.
…
Angie stood in front of the mirror in her bathroom. For some reason, she was feeling a little anxious about the twilight party. There wasn’t any rhyme or reason to it—she’d been to several of these parties earlier in the summer. They’d even had a huge one on New Year’s with a fireworks show.
But both of those times she’d gone for fun, not because someone had invited her. Was Trent asking her on a date? Angie had panicked, and that’s why she’d immediately turned around and invited Jace. But why should she be worried if it was a date?
It’s not like Jace was interested in her romantically, that much was clear.
After changing outfits more times than she would ever admit, Angie had settled on a black floaty dress with a tie around the waist. It was the perfect cover-up to the bikini she had on underneath in case the water was still warm. She’d left her hair down after washing it, and the natural wave had come out. The strong Australian sun had given her a decent tan, and all the freckles had come out along her shoulders and arms and cheeks.
She looked happy.
For the first time in years, the reflection staring back at her was satisfied and calm and healthy. Physically and mentally. But soon that wouldn’t be the case. Last night, she’d barely slept, tossing and turning into the wee hours of the night, counting sheep like it would make a difference. It didn’t. Because it was like being back home all over again, reliving the nightmares of her childhood. Doing everything she could think of to fight off a panic attack.
“You’re past all that,” she said to her reflection as she tucked her hair behind her ears. “You’ve battled those demons already. No matter what happens, you will survive.”
But what if she regressed the second she got back to America? Australia had been so good to her—partially because of the sheer distance and partially because of the connection she felt to this beautiful part of the country. To this town. Every cell in her body was screaming at her to stay. To find a way to make it work.
To make it her home.
But how?
I knew on that first night that Winston was my forever. We were married within a month.
Jean’s words rang in her ears. When she’d asked Jace if he’d ever thought about getting a wife, he’d looked at her like she was crazy. But was it? Really? Jean had known right away that Winston was the man for her, and they’d been married for more than fifty years when he passed away. What if this scenario was the push she’d needed to find the right person? What if this was fate shoving her in the right direction? Forcing her to find all the things she’d truly wanted in life—love, family, home.
The solution to her problems could very well be here in Patterson’s Bluff. Right under her nose.
She shook her head. It was a silly idea—who would she marry anyway? She didn’t even have a boyfriend. And who fell in love and got married that quickly these days? Nobody. Okay, maybe drunk people in Vegas…but they weren’t exactly a shining example of how to start a quality relationship. And the last thing she wanted to do was defraud the Australian government.
But no matter how much she tried to rationalize away the thought, her brain kept whispering, What-if?
What if she fell in love? Legitimately. What if she found the right guy and they simply expedited the relationship process? The possibility of getting two dreams for the price of one swirled in her mind. A family to love and the chance to stay. Forever.
But the first image that sprang to mind jolted her. Not because she was wearing a white wedding gown and everyone from the town was surrounding her. But because the groom was Jace. Now where did that thought come from?
She shook her head. They’d be terrible together. Like oil and water. Fire and ice. Like…brussels sprouts and peanut butter. She couldn’t stop saying or doing the wrong thing around him.
As for Trent… She’d never even thought about him in that way. Technically, he was handsome—he was tall, though not as tall as Jace. Golden hair, naughty smile, chiseled jaw. But he did nothing for her. There was no zing. No sizzle.
But there were other men in this idyllic town to consider.
Some guys were clearly a pass—like Paul Grossterly and that guy Rick whom she’d dubbed Creepy McCreeperson for the way he leered at the waitresses at the local pub. Then there was another category—the potentials. This was where she needed to concentrate her focus. Because she had less than two months to go before D-Day. Devastation Day, as it was now going to be called. Less than two months to potentially fall in love and convince that guy to put a ring on it.
“Just Beyoncé the shit out of this,” she said to her reflection.
Her false confidence was exactly that—fake, and a coping mechanism. But stranger things had happened in the world. One of her foster moms—a pink-cheeked Avon saleslady named Beth—had onc
e said to her, Good things happen to people who are open to possibility.
So that’s what she would be. Open to the possibility of finding love and a solution to her problems all wrapped in one package. Open to letting the unpredictability of the world guide her to the right outcome.
Feeling optimistic and renewed, Angie headed out to the front of her house and slipped her feet into a pair of sandals. Then she grabbed a denim jacket, in case it got chilly later, and her bag.
Jace was already waiting for her, holding a canvas tote that probably had some snacks and drinks. The two dogs were on their respective leashes. He was staring off into the distance, looking like some handsome doggy wrangler. Worn blue jeans hugged his strong legs, and he wore a pair of white Converse high-tops and a T-shirt that had a Stark Industries logo on it. She almost hadn’t believed he was a surfer the first time they’d met—because he didn’t seem the type at all.
But that was Jace in a nutshell…he was pleasantly unexpected.
“Ready to go?” she asked as she came up beside him.
Tilly turned and appraised Angie with a cool, uninterested stare. Apparently the dog had a short memory about the whole nonconsensual cuddling on the couch thing. Truffle, however, was pleased to see her and immediately jumped up to say hello. He was wearing a little jacket that also served as a harness. It was quilted and floral. Like, Grandma’s curtains floral.
“Yep. Want to go halves?” He held out both the leashes, and she immediate took Truffle’s. “Chicken.”
“Sticks and stones, buddy. I thought you might be happy to be rid of this floral monstrosity anyway.” Truffle trotted along happily, totally oblivious to the fact that he looked like a craft-store reject. “Doesn’t exactly seem like it’s your style.”
The Aussie Next Door Page 6
