The Aussie Next Door

by Stefanie London

  Wow, news traveled fast in this town.

  “It’s a very noble thing, Angie. You’re making a big difference in their lives.”

  “Thank you.”

  Mrs. Walters reached over and gave Angie a hug. “I’m so happy for you both.”

  A great big weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

  “I guess this means you’ll have to fly your mother out to Australia. How exciting! I can’t wait to meet her.”

  And like that, Angie’s heart sank. The lies of omission that had built up since she arrived in Patterson’s Bluff had been designed to protect her from her past—a cocoon of vague stories. But now she’d have to woman up. She’d have to admit that she led people to believe things that weren’t true.

  They’d want to know more, to dig. Her past might follow her here if too many people gossiped about it. Anxiety curled like a fist around her heart. Would there be people here who said those horrible things like they had back home? That she was lying about what her foster parents did? That the picture of her in chains was staged so she could cash in?

  “Are you okay, love?” Mrs. Walters frowned and touched the back of her hand to Angie’s forehead in such a motherly way, it made her want to cry for how guilty she felt.

  “I’m worried,” she said. Her eyes drifted to the closed door hiding Jace and Tilly away. “I hope Tilly is going to be okay.”

  “Me too.”

  The sounds of a vet clinic filled their silence—Fran’s fingers flying over the keys of her computer, the whirr of the air-conditioning, and intermittent ringing of the telephone. A woman came in with her daughter and their adorable kitten that was small enough to fit in the teenager’s pocket. They sat down in the empty plastic chairs, and Truffle eyed the kitten with disdain but otherwise didn’t cause any trouble.

  A few minutes later, the door to the assessment room swung open, and Jace strode out. He still had a crease between his brows, but some of the color had come back to his cheeks. That was, until he saw his mother sitting there.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Mrs. Walters stood and rushed over to give her son a hug. “I saw the car sitting in the parking lot as I was driving past, and I knew something must have happened to one of the dogs. Is she going to be okay?”

  “Mira says she should be fine. We couldn’t find the stinger, so it’s likely that Tilly got it out when she vomited on the beach. She’s got some nasty blisters inside her mouth that will irritate her whenever she tries to eat or drink. So Mira suggested leaving her overnight—if not for a few days—to make sure she can get her fluids in.”

  “Oh good.” Angie sighed and pressed a hand to her chest. “What a relief.”

  “She’s not out of the woods yet, but with some supervision, she should be feeling better soon.”

  Mira walked out into the main area. “I’ve set her up in our emergency care section, and I’ll keep an eye on her personally. It’s a good thing you brought her right in. With older dogs, they can sometimes react more severely than a younger dog might. We’ll take very good care of her.”

  Mira bid them all a good afternoon and went to greet her other clients with the kitten. Jace’s eyes strayed to the room where Tilly was being kept, as though he hated to be away from her, even if only for one evening. For a man who hadn’t wanted to dog-sit in the first place, he was certainly becoming quite the doting pet owner.

  After Jace left his contact information with Fran and fixed up Tilly’s bill, the three of them went outside.

  “So,” Mrs. Walters said with a coy smile on her face. “I heard you have some good news.”

  “She saw the ring,” Angie explained.

  “We’d wanted to tell you together.” Jace sighed. “It’s not that we were hiding it. Please don’t tell the others, okay? We want to do it properly.”

  “You want me to keep the most exciting news our family has had in some time a secret?” His mother gasped. “Your father will take one look at me and know I’m harboring important information.”

  Jace rolled his eyes. “We’re not talking about the key to eternal life. Just keep it quiet until we can get everyone together.”

  “I will do my best. But you know your dad, Jace…” She shook her head. “He’s got a sixth sense for that stuff.”

  “Please try. I don’t want anyone to feel left out.”

  Angie’s heart skipped a beat. He really was the sweetest guy, especially when it came to his family. Could she picture herself spending the rest of her life with Jace? Yeah, she totally could. That was, if she didn’t mess things up.

  They all climbed into their respective vehicles, and Angie took a moment to settle Truffle into his seat. He kept looking around as though trying to figure out where his big sister was.

  “She’ll be back soon, I promise.” She gave the little guy a hug and then closed the door gently before climbing into the passenger seat. “I feel so bad; he keeps looking for her.”

  “We should probably keep a close eye on him tonight.” Jace started the engine and waited for his mother to pull out of the parking lot before he backed out. “So, busted, huh?”

  “I didn’t stand a chance.” Angie scrubbed her hands over her face. “Will she keep it quiet?”

  “Not likely. She has the world’s worst poker face.” Jace shook his head. “So we should probably sit them all down as soon as possible.”

  Angie chewed on her thumbnail. It was a habit she’d kicked years ago but that sometimes reared its head when she was stressed. “She wanted to know when I was going to bring my mother over so they could meet.”

  Jace glanced at her as they paused at the exit to the Happy Paws parking lot, waiting for a gap in the traffic. His expression was difficult to read. “Right.”

  Ah, the response that wasn’t really a response. He was waiting to hear what she had to say. Angie sucked in a big breath. “I’m going to have to tell everyone about my past, aren’t I?”

  “Only if you want to.”

  “I can’t keep lying. It’s hardly the right way to build a foundation as a family.” That fist was back again, squeezing and squeezing. “And besides, it’s going to be quite the one-sided wedding guest list.”

  It occurred to her then that she was bringing very little to this relationship beside the fact that she had a fat bank account thanks to her legal settlements. That was also something she’d kept quiet from everyone except Jace. If anyone had ever asked her how she managed to fund a trip to Australia for a year without working, she’d claim it was inheritance left to her by a dead relative.

  “You only have to tell them as much as you want,” he said.

  “But they’ll ask questions.”

  “So?”

  She sighed. “I’m worried they won’t accept me. That they’ll look at me differently.”

  “You’re not giving them enough credit. Have I treated you differently?”

  “No.” Now that she thought about it, he’d left that conversation well enough alone after their talk. “Won’t they ask questions?”

  “Yes. I want to know everything about you, too. But that doesn’t mean it’s right to ask.” He reached his free hand over and placed it on her bare thigh. “If you ever want to talk, then I’m all ears. But until that point, it’s your decision to make.”

  “How did someone not marry you already?” She slipped her hand over his and interlocked their fingers.

  “I thought we went through that already,” he deadpanned.

  “But seriously.” She stared at him as he drove them back home. “The ladies of Patterson’s Bluff have been missing out, and their loss is totally my gain.”

  They sat quietly for a moment, trying to sift through everything in her head.

  “You never even looked my name up online?” she asked eventually.

  “Did I Google you?” He sn
orted. “Isn’t that kind of…stalker-ish?”

  “Everybody does it.”

  “Doesn’t make it right.” They paused at a red light. “And no, I didn’t Google you, Angie. Jesus.”

  “What?”

  “I get you’ve had some people treat you badly in the past, but you can’t go around expecting the worst of everyone.” He sounded hurt.

  “Says you. You thought marriage was a sham because the person you didn’t even want to marry walked out on you.” The words sounded way more defensive than she’d wanted them to. But everything was so close to the surface right now—her fears about the future, her feelings of inadequacy, all the wounds she thought she’d stitched up for good…

  Clearly not.

  “It’s been a long day,” Jace said quietly. “Let’s go home and watch a movie, okay?”

  “Okay, sure.” Angie twisted the engagement ring around her finger, still not used to the feeling of it.

  This should have been the happiest time of her life—but her brain seemed to be locked into the thirty-day part of Jace’s proposal. Like it was a hurdle mocking her at the finish line. Would she be able to clear it? Or would she fail to measure up like she always did?

  “Stop worrying, Angie,” Jace said, as if he could read her mind. “Everything will work itself out.”

  Somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to believe it.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ever since the day they took Tilly to the vet, Jace had been doing his utmost to show Angie that he wanted her…and it was taking a toll. He was so far behind on his work that he was scrambling to make his deadline at the end of the week. That was a first.

  Not to mention the fact that he’d barely surfed, and without the calming vastness of the ocean to start his day, he felt…off. Instead, he “slept in,” better known as lying in bed watching Angie sleep—not in a creepy way—and wanting to be there for her when she woke up. He’d forced down the breakfasts she made him, not having the heart to tell her he didn’t like them. And every time she suggested a spontaneous activity—going out for coffee or an extra-long walk with the dogs to explore a different part of the beach—he said yes.

  After all, the last thing he wanted to do was repeat his mistakes. Julia hadn’t been able to handle his rigidity and his need for alone time…so he was working on those things. He wanted Angie to be happy.

  And, in the process, he was wearing himself down. Each time he varied from his routine, it felt like he chipped away another piece of himself.

  “So I was thinking,” Angie said. “Why don’t we go out for brunch this morning?”

  She was standing at the end of the bed in a white bra and undies, her long dark hair hanging down her back in glossy waves. Yeah, sure, she’d screwed his routine into oblivion. But man…he could watch her all day. It wasn’t only her body—incredible as it was—it was the sparkle in her eyes, the way she took such care with things like picking the perfect flowers for the dining room table and how she never dog-eared the pages in her books.

  “Brunch?” His stomach churned at the suggestion.

  “Yeah, I was chatting with one of the staff members at the retirement home, and she was telling me about a new place that opened up. It sounds cute.” She pulled a breezy yellow sundress from his cupboard—which was now their cupboard—and pulled it over her head. “Unless you’ve got work to do?”

  “I’d love to do brunch.” The words came automatically, as though his “say yes” training had taken root. “That sounds great.”

  His eyes coasted to the clock on his nightstand. It was past eight thirty already, and he was usually getting ready to settle into the studio by now. When he looked back up, he caught Angie observing him.

  “You sure?” she asked, a frown causing a delicate crease in between her eyebrows. “We can totally go another day if you’ve got stuff to do. No pressure.”

  Julia used to say stuff like that—no pressure. No worries. Whatever you want. Words he’d taken at face value when he shouldn’t have.

  “I want to go everywhere with you.” He got out of bed and stalked over to her, pulling her into his arms and lowering his head down to hers. Even with his body coiled tight from feeling so out of his element, holding her was like a balm over it all.

  “What if I’d suggested we go shoe shopping, huh?” she teased. “Would you have come then?”

  “Yep.” Okay, now he was lying through his teeth, and they both knew it.

  “What about…getting facials?” She tapped a fingertip to her chin, her nose crinkled with mischief. “Would you sit there for an hour with cucumber on your eyes?”

  “Anything for you.”

  “What if I asked you to watch a whole marathon of Drew Barrymore movies with me?”

  He snorted. “Okay, now you’re pushing it.”

  “Even you have limits.” She tapped his cheek and planted a kiss on his nose. “Good to know.”

  Jace released her so he could get dressed. As he was pulling up his jeans, watching intently as Angie bent in half to fasten her sandals—giving him a glorious view—he reminded himself of how lucky he was.

  “Oh hey, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you bring your sketchbook?” she suggested. “We can chill at the café for a bit. I’ll bring a book and we can sit and be quiet.”

  He knew she was only suggesting that for his benefit—Angie could literally talk all day. But it was clear she was doing her best to respect his needs, even if what he actually wanted was to stay home and lock himself away for several hours so he could create.

  But relationships had to come before work. They would grow apart otherwise. And the fear of that was like a presence in the room, a gloomy third wheel.

  “That sounds great,” he said with a nod. “I’m sure I’ll get lots done.”

  …

  Jace did not get lots done. In fact, he speculated that “brunch” was some secret term for bring all the screaming babies to one place. The noise level would rival that of an AC/DC concert—groups of women chattering, kids yelling, some generic bass-heavy pop song playing over the speakers.

  He and Angie were jammed into a tiny table in the corner of the café where his sketchbook took up so much of the space, he had to hold it at an angle—half in his lap, half on the table—to get anything done. At first, he hadn’t even bothered to pull it out. But Angie had insisted. So now, he was pretending to draw while she pretended to read.

  He could feel her eyes flicking up to his at regular intervals. “Are you having fun?” she asked.

  I have the worst case of writer’s block ever.

  The problem was, his head was too noisy. It was like his brain was stuck on a loop, reminding him every thirty seconds that there was something else he was supposed to be doing. Reminding him that he didn’t have time for brunch when he should be working. It was like an alarm that refused to turn off.

  “Sure,” he said, arranging his face into the best I’m having fun expression he could think off. But Angie didn’t seem convinced.

  “Can I see what you’re working on?”

  Shit. He looked down at the page, which was totally blank, save for a doodle of Hermit with his hands over his ears while five babies screamed around him. If she saw that, then she would know he wasn’t having fun.

  “I, uh…don’t like to show my work at such an early stage,” he said, flipping the book shut.

  A waitress was heading toward them with a notepad, and Jace had scanned the menu over and over in the hopes he’d find something simple to eat. He was pretty sure if he ate another piece of bacon, all his arteries would clog simultaneously.

  “What can I get you?” she asked.

  “I’ll have the sourdough with avocado and a poached egg. Oh, and a flat white, please.” Angie smiled and handed her menu back to the waitress.

  Jace scanned the menu again, hop
ing that something appealing might suddenly appear, as if by magic. “You don’t happen to have plain porridge, do you?”

  The waitress cocked her head. “We have some oats out back that we use for the Bircher muesli, so I’m sure the chef wouldn’t mind cooking them up for you. How do you like them?”

  “With regular milk,” he said, feeling relieved. Jace didn’t mind being adventurous with his meals at other parts of the day, but there was something about breakfast that needed to be simple—as if it was a promise that the rest of the day could be easy and uncomplicated.

  “Okay, and for toppings? We’ve got strawberries and banana fresh in today, as well as blackberries. Plus any of the condiments: honey, golden syrup—”

  “Just plain. Thanks.”

  For a moment, the waitress looked at him as if she hadn’t heard right, and Jace got that awful feeling that he was being judged. It was funny how he’d never been great at reading people, but that was always one thing he felt down to the very marrow of his bones. He had an urge to cover it up with a joke or to feign a bit of an upset stomach or lie and tell them he was entering a body-building contest and was on a strict diet of oats, chicken breast, and broccoli—but dammit, why should he?

  What was so wrong with wanting to eat something boring for breakfast?

  “Coming right up,” she said with a nod.

  Angie was watching him with a concerned expression. “Everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine.” But the muscle in his jaw was twitching.

  It was like his need for normalcy was a balloon growing inside him, pushing on his heart and lungs, filling up every cavity until he was almost bursting with it. But he didn’t want to expose Angie to this side of him—the side that would never go away no matter how much he tried.

  She’s going to see it eventually.

  His stomach sank. It felt like his world was unraveling, and he didn’t know how to fix it. Why couldn’t he be like other guys and shrug things off? He had a beautiful fiancée sitting in front of him and…dammit, she was so important to him. Already. Why couldn’t he be what she wanted?