by Nicola Marsh
The painkillers may have taken the edge off but he wasn’t a complete idiot. She’d been staring at him, not the tub, and by the high colour in her cheeks and the way her lips parted, she’d liked what she’d seen. It had been the damnedest thing, because in those moments when she’d been devouring him with her eyes, he’d forgotten that he’d been responsible for the deaths of seven innocent people, forgotten that she’d deprived him of almost thirteen years of his only child’s life, and forgotten that she’d turned his life upside down with the revelation he had a daughter. He’d felt … something.
He daren’t label it because he knew acknowledging he still found Tash attractive on a visceral level could only end badly. He didn’t want to like her. He couldn’t let her in, not again, not after all this time. Not after what she’d done. But all the logic in the world couldn’t stop him from closing his eyes as he towelled off and remembering exactly how he used to feel when she looked at him like that.
He struggled into clean clothes before grabbing the crutches, taking care not to slip. She’d been right; the sooner he got out of this cumbersome plaster the better. He’d seek a second medical opinion tomorrow. After spending time with his daughter, that is.
He had a daughter. A child of his own. A feisty, confident girl. His kid.
Equal parts trepidation and hope expanded in his chest until he could barely breathe. He’d spent his adult life on the road, living lavishly, partying hard. He’d enjoyed the spoils of his success and, until the accident, he’d been unapologetic for being self-centred. But those concertgoers dying had shattered him, and discovering Isla’s existence had the potential to undo him completely.
What if he wasn’t good enough?
What if he wasn’t enough?
A light knock sounded at the door. ‘You okay in there?’
‘Be right out,’ he barked, instantly regretting it. Tash had been nothing but helpful and the fact she’d stuck around to make him a meal after driving all the way to Echuca to pick him up spoke volumes. She’d always been a caring person and he should make an effort to shelve his resentment. Because no matter how mad she made him, she was the mother of his child—they had an irrevocable bond. Besides, he knew he’d need her help traversing the parenting minefield, considering he knew nothing about it.
He had so much to catch up on. What was Isla’s favourite colour? Favourite band? Favourite dinner? Did she like sport? Did she have ambitions to leave town like her mum had? And the biggest of them all: Did she really want a father she’d never known intruding in her life?
Cursing under his breath, he opened the door to find Tash nibbling her bottom lip, concern etched in the lines between her brows.
‘I thought you’d drowned,’ she said, her flippancy not disguising the worry in her eyes.
‘You couldn’t be that lucky.’ He hopped past her, gritting his teeth against the urge to apologise. Damn it, he should, because she’d been a real trouper. But it somehow stuck in his throat as he made it to the kitchen and saw what she’d done.
A place for one had been laid at the dining table in the corner, complete with a pitcher of water and a steaming bowl of pasta. The scene irritated him. She had no intention of staying. Then again, had he given her any indication she should? He’d been surly and disgruntled and dismissive since she’d picked him up, and he didn’t blame her for wanting to escape as soon as possible. But the least he owed her was a meal after all she’d done for him today.
‘Do you have to rush off to pick up Isla?’
‘No, she’s having dinner at her friend’s place.’
‘Then why don’t you stay?’
He glimpsed the refusal in her eyes but before she could speak he rushed on: ‘That looks like a lot of pasta for one person and I wouldn’t mind a hand sorting out my meds when we’re done.’
Okay, so that was sneaky. He knew perfectly well how many painkillers he had to take and how often, but appealing to her medical side was guaranteed to make her stay. And he really didn’t want her to leave.
She gnawed on her bottom lip again, indecisive, before finally nodding. ‘Okay.’
He took a seat and watched her move around his kitchen with ease. It struck him then that she might’ve eaten in this very kitchen, might’ve even known Yanni, and a ridiculous surge of jealousy twisted his gut at the thought.
‘Have you been here before?’
‘No. I don’t have time to socialise, what with my shifts at the roadhouse and being a taxi-mum to Isla.’ She grabbed a fork from the top drawer and added it to the plate in her hand. ‘This place is rarely occupied so I figured it was a holiday home.’
‘That would’ve been a spin out, if you’d met Yanni here one day.’
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘How long are you planning on hiding out here?’
‘For as long as it takes.’
‘Want to talk about it?’ She sat opposite him and dished out a healthy serve of the pesto pasta. Another of her go-to meals when they’d practically lived with each other in Melbourne and she’d insist he load up on carbs before a gig.
‘Talking won’t help,’ he muttered, picking up his fork and stabbing at the spaghetti, twirling it around and around. ‘I have to get my shit together on my own.’
Roger, Blue, Daz and Yanni had all seen a counsellor afterwards, but he had an aversion to blurting his innermost fears to a stranger who would potentially judge him. If he couldn’t face empathy from his best mates, no way in hell did he want to blab to anyone else about his fear that he’d never pick up a guitar again let alone sing.
‘Uh-huh,’ she mumbled, pushing her pasta around the plate. ‘But just so you know, kids pick up on moods, so you might want to rethink bottling everything up inside if you’re going to spend quality time with Isla.’
His fork slipped from his fingers and clattered against the plate. ‘Give me a break, Tash. We don’t know each other anymore and you want me to pour my heart and soul out to you? And when I don’t want to, you bring up Isla as some kind of stick to beat me with?’
She widened her eyes before lowering her gaze. ‘I’m sorry. I thought it might help.’
Feeling like a bastard for snapping at her, he reached across the table to touch her hand. ‘I’m the one who should be apologising.’
To his surprise, she didn’t snatch her hand away. Instead, she turned it over so their palms aligned. Her acceptance of his touch after the way he’d treated her made his throat swell. She’d always been like this, quick to forgive, caring, intuitive. He’d loved so much about her and she’d gutted him.
But he was here, now, and by some strange twist of fate they were neighbours for the foreseeable future. And he shared a child with her. He really needed to pull his head out of his arse and stop being so touchy around her.
‘I can’t talk about what happened at that concert yet.’ He patted her hand before removing his. ‘It’s still too raw. But I’m getting a handle on it and if I need to talk, I know where you live.’ He managed a half-hearted smile. ‘As for Isla, I’ll do my best not to inflict my moods on her. I want to get to know her, to spend time with her.’ He dragged in a breath, determined to get the rest out. ‘And I might need your help in learning how to be a good parent.’
Tears filled her eyes and stricken, he fumbled for the right words to say. But she didn’t give him a chance to say anything. She stood, moved around the table and dropped a kiss on his forehead.
‘You’re a good guy, Kody, and something tells me you’re going to be a great dad.’
CHAPTER
15
Tash had thirty minutes before she had to pick up Isla and she used half that time to wash her face and apply a bit of make-up. She’d always been an ugly crier and, after barely touching her dinner and ensuring Kody knew his meds schedule, she’d bolted for the sanctity of her car where she let the tears she’d been battling fall. She didn’t know why she was crying. For Kody, stoic and hurting? For Isla, who would pine when Kody eventually left? For herself, who’d spent a
few hours in his thorny company and realised she still had a major soft spot for him?
Whatever the reason, she had to pull herself together because she’d been right about one thing: Isla picked up on the slightest shift in her mood. They had enough to talk about tonight without her daughter zeroing in on the fact she was upset.
As she drove the short distance into town, Tash tried to rehearse what she’d say to Isla about spending time with Kody tomorrow. But every time she tried to formulate a plan, the image of an almost-naked Kody would intrude on her thoughts, making her heart pound and her palms grow clammy. It had been a long time since she’d been that turned on, so long in fact she couldn’t remember the last time. She’d had sex a total of five times since Kody. By her calculations, that equated to a shag every two-point-six years. Little wonder she’d almost combusted when she’d caught sight of her ex’s muscled, tanned body. How did a guy who spent most of his time indoors get a tan like that anyway? Then again, he probably spent his downtime in hotspots like Nice or Barbados or Cancun. As for the muscles, they were new, and her fingers had tingled with the urge to see if they felt as good as they looked.
Tash rarely allowed herself to dream but for those few seconds after his bath, when they’d sat across from each other at the dining table and he’d placed his hand over hers, she’d wished she did. The kind of dream that featured her and Isla as part of Kody’s life, a dream where the three of them were a happy family. If spending only a short time with him had that kind of effect, she’d need to be more careful moving forwards. She’d help Isla get to know her father but would make herself scarce as soon as she felt Isla was comfortable.
Too much time with Kody wouldn’t be good for her peace of mind.
When she reached Isla’s friend Ellen’s house, she pulled over and shook out her hands. Her cheeks felt hot. This wouldn’t do, not at all. She had to be cool and calm when she talked to Isla, not hot and bothered over a man she had no future with other than as a coparent.
The front door opened and Isla stepped out. She watched her daughter give her friend a hug before trudging towards the car as though spending time with her mother was the last thing she wanted to do. Isla never looked this reluctant to see her so Tash knew her daughter still harboured resentment about the Kody fiasco.
The passenger door flung open and Tash pasted a welcoming smile on her face. ‘Hey, did you have a good time?’
‘Yeah.’ Isla’s response was cool, dismissive, as she slid onto the seat, placed her phone on the console and snapped her belt into place. ‘Ellen’s always cool to hang out with. We listened to music.’
Tash inadvertently stiffened but she needn’t have worried as Isla continued, ‘I didn’t tell her about Kody, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not telling anyone until I get to know him, see if he’s a good dad.’
Isla’s honesty and insight impressed Tash. ‘That sounds like a plan.’
‘When can I see him?’
‘That’s entirely up to you, sweetheart.’ Tash knew how eager Kody was to meet Isla for real but this whole process had to be guided by their daughter. She felt guilty enough for lying to them both for so long and didn’t want to force anything.
‘How about tomorrow?’ Isla wriggled in her seat, excitement and trepidation warring across her expressive face. ‘Could you ask him if that’s okay? I mean, tomorrow is great but it’s soon. Does he want to see me?’
‘He can’t wait to spend time with you,’ Tash said, glad to hear some of Isla’s usual verve in her voice. ‘I actually spent the last few hours with Kody. He wanted to see you sooner but he took a tumble off a quad bike and broke his ankle—’
‘What? Oh my god, is he okay?’
‘He’s in plaster but he’s fine.’
‘How come you spent time with him?’ A hint of anger underlined Isla’s question, like she resented not being the one to do it.
‘Someone needed to pick him up from the hospital in Echuca and he gave my name.’
‘Oh.’
Tash heard the reservation in that brief syllable. What was going through her daughter’s mind? ‘He wanted to see you tonight but he’s pretty sore and is dosed up on painkillers, so he’s resting. And I wanted it to be your decision to see him, but I reckon he’ll be thrilled about tomorrow.’
‘I can’t wait. What do you think I should wear? Should I straighten my hair? What do I call him—’
‘Hey, slow down.’ Tash reached out to squeeze Isla’s hand, relieved when her daughter didn’t avoid the contact. ‘You don’t have to get tizzied up to see your dad. Just be yourself.’
‘But he’s so famous and I’m … ordinary.’
Tears prickled Tash’s eyes and she blinked several times before replying. ‘You are amazing and don’t you ever forget it.’
A glimmer of a smile twitched Isla’s lips as she rolled her eyes. ‘You have to say that, you’re my mum.’
‘And proud of it.’ She leaned over the gearstick and hauled Isla into her arms, grateful when her daughter relaxed into the hug rather than pulling away. ‘You’re incredible, Isla, and I can’t wait for your dad to discover that for himself.’
Isla snuggled into the hug and those damn tears Tash had been battling were back, making her eyes smart.
She dabbed at her eyes before easing away and flashing a bright smile. ‘Did you eat much at Ellen’s? Because I have a sudden hankering for some of Harry’s fajitas.’
Isla’s eyes lit up. ‘Ellen’s mum serves a lot of healthy stuff like carrot sticks, celery and tzatziki, so I’m still hungry.’
‘Great, the roadhouse it is.’ She wouldn’t normally head back to her workplace on a Saturday night, especially when she had a rare evening off courtesy of the emergency with Kody, but with the turmoil of the day she had a sudden hankering to be surrounded by people who loved her.
Tash fired off a text to Kody saying Isla would love to spend some time with him tomorrow, and his speedy response confirmed what she already knew: he really wanted to get to know his daughter. It made her feel bad all over again for keeping them apart this long.
She had never been more relieved when Isla kept up a steady stream of conversation on the drive to the roadhouse, most of it centred around various events for the newest batch of year sevens at high school, leaving her to murmur the occasional agreement while pondering the upcoming meeting with Kody tomorrow.
Sunday mornings were her special time with Isla. They’d sleep in, whip up a batch of blueberry pancakes, then go for a long walk before curling up on the couch to watch reruns of their favourite sitcoms together. That would all change tomorrow and she couldn’t help the flicker of fear that made her stomach twinge. She faced so many uncertainties with letting Kody into Isla’s life. What would happen if they didn’t bond as she hoped? What were his expectations beyond his stay in Brockenridge? Or the worst of them all—what if he filed for shared custody?
She’d built a stable life for her and Isla here, with a good support network and people who genuinely cared. How would sharing Isla with Kody even work? Having her daughter travel the world for six months of the year with a father who’d be busy with rehearsals and recordings and concerts seemed unfeasible and inappropriate for a girl her age. Not that Isla would see it that way. She could only imagine her impressionable daughter’s reaction at the thought of being part of a rock star’s entourage. Isla could end up seeing Kody as the fun parent who took her on worldwide adventures while she would be the opposite, stuck in Brockenridge, supervising homework and playing taxi-mum.
A headache started pulsing at her temples as the welcoming neon sign of The Watering Hole came into view. She’d pop a few paracetamols and try to put on a brave face, because no way in hell would she dampen Isla’s enthusiasm for a proper introduction with her father.
‘I’m starving,’ Isla announced theatrically as Tash pulled in behind the roadhouse. ‘Really, really hungry.’
‘If that’s your way of hinting for one of Harry’s fa
mous lemon curd mini pavs after the fajitas, you might have twisted my arm.’
‘You’re the best, Mum,’ Isla said, opening the car door and slamming it shut.
Tash hoped Isla would always feel that way. She was glad her daughter’s earlier resentment had faded. She followed Isla at a sedate pace and entered the kitchen, not surprised to find her already popping treats into her mouth while Harry looked on fondly.
‘You spoil her,’ Tash said, snaffling one of the arancini balls for herself.
‘They’re yum, aren’t they, Mum?’
Tash nodded and murmured her appreciation.
‘We’d like to order your chicken fajitas please,’ Isla said, shooting Harry her best buttering-up look before adding, ‘and four of those delicious lemon curd pavs.’
‘Two,’ Tash said, trying to sound disapproving and failing when Harry beamed at Isla like she’d awarded him a Michelin star.
‘Coming right up.’ He waved them towards the dining area.
Saturday nights at the roadhouse were bustling and Tash didn’t feel like interacting with patrons, though if they sat at the small table reserved for staff they should be able to eat unobserved. But as they slipped from the kitchen and headed to the table, Alisha spotted them and waved Tash over.
‘Take a seat, honey, I’ll be back in a sec,’ Tash said to Isla.
Isla nodded and already had her phone in hand to scroll through whatever was the best social media site of the day, while Tash joined Alisha near the bar.
‘How did you go today? Is Kody okay?’ Alisha slid a half-glass of chardonnay towards her without asking.
Tash took a sip before answering. ‘He’s fine. A broken ankle is the worst of it.’
Alisha shot her a sly look. ‘So, are you dusting off the old nurse’s uniform? Because I’m sure he’d love a sponge bath or two.’
‘You’re sick,’ Tash said, her cheeks heating.
‘Well, well, will you look at that? Harry could fry eggs on your cheeks.’
‘Drinking wine on an empty stomach always makes me hot.’ As if to prove it, Tash sculled the rest. ‘Now, can we change the subject please?’
