“I’d slow down your career.”
Abby laughed. “I don’t care about my career. Well, I do still care about it, but I care about other things as well now.” They had drifted back into waist deep water now, and she felt the sand under her toes as she lowered her legs and stepped towards him.
“I care about the ocean. I care about swimming in the salty water and feeling the fresh ocean breeze on my face. I care about watching the stars at night and how they make me feel so small and all my troubles insignificant. I care about hiking, which in case you hadn’t noticed, was something I never thought I would care about. I care about seeing new bands and dancing in front of total strangers. I care about seeing a turtle lay her eggs and a humpback whale swim with her baby.”
She took another step forward. They were so close she could see the specks of gold in his eyes, see the pores on his face, even in the lessening light. The water, which had been cool and refreshing, was starting to feel cold on her skin, but she didn’t want to get out. Not until she’d said what she’d come here to say. “I care about so many other things now. And it’s all because of you.”
“And me? Do you care about me?”
“I care about you most of all.”
He took her in his arms then, as they stood knee-deep in the water. His skin was dimpled with goosebumps. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Abby.” He gave a short laugh. “I never thought I would say that to a woman, but it’s true. Karma, I guess. Noah the playboy falling for the one woman he can’t have.”
“The one woman you can’t have?”
“I’m a summer romance to you. That’s all. You’ll go back to your own life and forget about me. Once in a while you will remember me as the guy you had a fling with while you were in Australia. I won’t mean anything more to you than a fond memory.”
“You really think that?”
“I should know. I’ve done it enough myself to other women. I always figured they were faking when they told me they loved me, trying to manipulate me into staying longer with them when my time in the area was up. After all, they knew I was only there temporarily. I never promised to stay. And now I find that you can’t not love someone, even if you know you can’t hold on to them.”
“What if I want to be held on to?”
“You don’t mean that. Your life is over in the States. Your family, your friends, your career. I can’t ask you to give that up. I won’t ask you.”
“You don’t have to,” Abby countered. “I decided weeks ago that I wanted to stay in Australia if I could. I like it here, and, to be honest, it is nice to be a continent away from my family. Much as I love my parents, they do like to control my life where they can. So, I applied for a couple jobs here and just today I found out that I have an interview next week, over in Broome. If they offer it to me, I intend to accept.”
His face slackened in shock. “A job? In Broome?”
“Not a job yet, Just an interview.” All the same, she was cautiously hopeful. “But even if I don’t get this one, there will be others.”
“You really are planning on staying.”
“Yes, I am. I want to stay.”
“And you are really willing to give us a chance? A real chance?”
“I want that most of all.”
He kissed her then, and in that moment the chill of the water and the darkening sky was all but forgotten.
An hour later, after they’d demolished the contents of the picnic basket and refilled their glasses with the last of the bottle of wine, Noah reached over and took her hand in his. “Having you around has made me think about where I’m going with my life. I can’t be a part-time rescue pilot forever. It’s a young man’s game.”
“You’re still young. And you love your job,” Abby protested.
“I do. I love flying, and I love helping people. I’m not going to stop doing that. I was thinking about buying a chopper of my own, maybe a couple even, hiring on a few reliable friends I know, and setting up a business of my own. I’d offer sightseeing flights, deliveries, transport to remote stations, and, of course, I’d always be available for rescue flights.”
“Wouldn’t that be awfully expensive?” she ventured. She had no idea how much a helicopter cost, but she knew they didn’t come cheap.
He shrugged. “I’ve got money. Quite a lot of it, actually. My parents set up a trust for all my siblings and me. We received the money on our twenty-first birthdays. I’ve barely touched it since I gained access. There’s enough in there to bum around for the rest of my life, if I was careful. Or I could set up a business that will make a difference to people’s lives.”
“Noah, the businessman?” she joked. “That’s a side of you that I haven’t seen before.”
“Will you still want me if I’m no longer a beach bum?” His eyes twinkled as he asked, a note of seriousness hidden under his joking words.
She looked consideringly at him. “Will you cut your hair?”
“Not planning on it.”
“Laser off your tattoos?”
“Never.”
“Then yes, I will. I do.”
Her colleagues back at base were delighted at her success in getting an interview with an Australian company. Aaron helped her with research into the consulting company and the programs they were running. Adam gave her a crash course in what to expect in Broome, and Myra helped her pick out the most appropriate interview outfit. John, who knew one of the managing directors there, even called him on the pretext of a catch-up but spent most of the call singing her praises. “I didn’t mention your driving though,” he said with a laugh, as he told her about it afterwards.
Abby made a face at him. She’d returned his truck to him unscathed this time, as well as freshly cleaned inside and out, and with a full tank of gas.
Noah insisted on driving her to Broome so he could check out the place for himself. “If you get the job here, this is where I’ll be setting up shop.”
Faced with that logic, she accepted gratefully. And she was glad to have time with just the two of them. No pressures to do anything but enjoy themselves.
They made the two-day trip into an impromptu camping vacation, driving through the day, and then setting up camp by the ocean in the evening.
Abby only spent half of every evening looking at rocks. The rest of the time she spent in Noah’s company, every minute of which she enjoyed.
The day of her interview she dressed in a campsite bathroom, laughing ruefully at herself laboriously applying mascara in a busy, shared space, where the steam from the women’s showers kept fogging up the mirror. Half a year ago she wouldn’t have even considered staying at a campsite, let alone prepping for an interview in a shared shower area. Yet she felt more confident in herself than she ever had before.
Noah dropped her off outside the building fifteen minutes before her interview time. She smoothed down her black trousers nervously. “Does this look formal enough?” A sudden burst of nerves shot through her.
“You look perfect,” he said and kissed the top of her head. “They’ll love you.”
An hour and a half later Abby exited the building, her heart pounding. Noah was parked around the corner, snoozing in the warm sun with his windows open.
Abby opened the door and planted a big kiss on his mouth, waking him up with a start. “Wake up sleepyhead. Do you like it here?” she asked with a playful grin.
“I love Broome. It’s got everything I could ever need here. But how did your interview go?”
“Is Broome going to be a good place to start your business?”
He looked hesitant. “Yes, it would be.”
“Good. Because I just got offered the job,” she squealed.
Noah’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. They offered it to me half an hour ago. The last bit of the interview was sorting out when I could start. We agreed on six weeks. That gives me time to go back to Colorado to say goodbye to my parents, and to pack as much as I can c
arry and bring it out here. And for my visa application.”
Noah jumped out of the truck and wrapped his arms around her waist, picking her up and spinning her around. “Yeehaa,” he yelled, so loudly that a couple passers-by stopped to give them a dirty look.
Abby just smiled back at them. Her heart was too full for anything but joy.
Her parents took the news well that she was coming back only for a short vacation before she moved out to Australia for good.
“I’m glad you’ve submitted your master’s thesis. Best not to come back here for too long until that nonsense with Professor Bowron is sorted out,” her father said. “You can always return in a few years to complete a doctorate if you decide to.”
“And a good consulting role can be the stepping-stone to all sorts of prestigious committees,” her mother added. “All in all, it will be a good move for you, though I will miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too,” she replied. And she meant it.
The six weeks went quickly, and before Abby could imagine, they had thrown themselves headlong into their new life. They had rented a small house together on the outskirts of Broome. He was happy that it faced a good surf beach and was a few minutes’ drive away from where he was in the process of setting up his new business. She was delighted that it had a bright and airy office, and a lovely balcony where she could sit and watch Noah playing in the water—if she didn’t feel like joining him, that is. Any worries about moving in together so soon evaporated within days as they realized how much they enjoyed Broome and enjoyed their shared home.
Most of all, they were happy that they were together.
Six months later
Abby looked around nervously at the imposing farmhouse set in the middle of the countryside. “What if they don’t like me?” she whispered nervously to Noah.
He grinned at her. “They are my family. They’ll love you. Guaranteed.”
She wasn’t as confident as he was, but nevertheless she followed him as he pushed open the front door and strode into the foyer.
“Noah!” An older woman launched herself at him and enveloped him in a hug. “It’s so wonderful to see you. You never told me you were coming.”
“I thought I’d surprise you all.”
“And you did. And who is this lovely lady you’ve brought with you?” she asked, eyeing Abby up with a speculative gleam in her eye.
She stepped forward and held out her hand. “I’m Abby.”
“I thought you must be. I’m so pleased to meet you. Come on in and meet the rest of the clan.”
Within moments, Abby was surrounded by people. Noah’s parents. Mason, an older and more serious version of Noah, and his wife Alexis, a fellow American, who was noticeably pregnant. And the youngest of the clan, Georgia.
She took an immediate liking to Alexis, who welcomed her with open arms.
Even Georgia, who Noah had warned her was a bit of a dark horse and shy with strangers, was friendly and seemed genuinely pleased to meet her. “You’re the first girlfriend that Noah has ever brought home to meet the family,” she announced, to Abby’s consternation. “At least since he was fifteen or so.”
“Why would I bring any girl home when I had three brothers. They might have preferred one of them over me.” He turned to Abby. “No running off with any of my brothers, mind. They are none of them to be trusted.”
“Not a chance,” Abby replied, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’ve got the best one already.”
“Second best maybe,” Alexis interjected. “I snagged the best years ago. Made it official and everything.”
“Yeah,” Georgia butted in. “When are you guys going to get married?” She turned to Abby. “He caught the bouquet at Mason’s wedding, so he’s gotta be next.”
Abby gave him a gentle punch on the shoulder. “You never told me that.”
Noah raised his hands in mock surrender. “It was before I met you.”
“Georgia,” Noah’s mother scolded. “Let the poor boy alone. He’s only just arrived, and you’ll chase him off again. You’ll scare poor Abby away.”
Georgia rolled her eyes. “I knew catching the bouquet was wasted on Noah,” she grumbled quietly.
“Never say never,” Noah replied to his sister, as he fingered the small box that he was carrying around in his pocket. That he had been carrying around for days now, just waiting for the right moment to ask the question. “Never say never.”
THE END
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Don’t miss the other books in Samantha Black’s Quinn Brothers series:
#1 HEAD FIRST
#3 HEADSTRONG
#4 HEADS OR TAILS
#5 HEADS UP
Read on for a sneak peek at the third book of the series, HEADSTRONG.
Caitlin blew out the candles as the strains of Happy Birthday sung off-key came to a close. Her eyes shut tight, she made her wish. Please, let Mikey have a good year.
She always wished for the same thing, every year. Sometimes she got her wish. Most often, she did not.
When she opened her eyes, her parents were looking at her, misty-eyed.
Her mom blinked a few times and then passed her a knife. “Birthday girl gets to cut the cake.”
Her dad handed around the plates as Mikey jiggled in his chair, reaching out wordlessly towards the birthday cake.
A two-layered red velvet cake, with cream cheese frosting, she’d made it herself from scratch that afternoon after work. It looked good. Better than good. The family budget didn’t often allow for treats like this. No wonder Mikey was so excited about eating it. Red food was his favorite.
Mikey tugged on her sleeve.
She concentrated on cutting a perfect slice and laying it on the plate. “Here you go, Mikey.”
He took it, looked at it blankly, and then turned to the side and dropped it, plate and all, on the floor and reached out again towards the rest of the cake on the table.
The plastic plate bounced. The cake didn’t. It lay on its side, crumbs and frosting smeared across the hardwood floor.
“Oh, Mikey,” her mum said, as she got up and fetched a handful of paper towels to clean up the mess. There was no anger in her voice. Just the weary resignation of someone who had done this before many times and knew she would have to do it many more. “That was not a good thing to do. That made a big mess.”
Caitlin concentrated hard on cutting three more slices of cake so that she didn’t burst out crying. Mikey was always like this. It wasn’t his fault—it was just the way he was. He hadn’t asked to be born different. There was no reason for her to hope that just this once he would act any differently just because it was her quarter century birthday and she wanted to celebrate. She swallowed hard. “Do you want a piece?” she asked Mikey, when he continued to reach out.
He shook his head.
“What do you want then?”
He shook his head harder.
She held out the plastic knife. “This?”
Nope, that didn’t get the right reaction.
He mimed puffing out his cheeks and blowing.
Ah, so that’s what it was. She pulled one of the thin, colored candles out of her cake and handed it to him.
He grabbed it and held it tightly in his fists, blowing on it just as she had.
Then he reached out for the lighter that her mom had used to light the candles.
Her mom moved it out of his reach. “No, Mikey.”
He flapped his hands with agitation and pointed to the lighter again.
Her mom moved it further away. “No, Mikey. The lighter is not a toy. It is only to be used for lighting candles.”
He held out his candle, mutely asking her to light it for him.
Mom shook her head. “Caitlin has b
lown out her candles. We do not need to light them again.”
He shook the candle harder, moved his body from side to side in a series of jerky motions, and screwed up his face.
Caitlin suppressed a sigh. All the hallmarks were there. Mikey was going to have a tantrum. Likely one that involved lots of screaming. Most of them did.
Mikey glared harder and his rocking grew more pronounced. He picked up his plastic spoon and started to bang the table, making guttural noises to express his displeasure.
Then, to her surprise, Mikey got up from the table and, in a sudden move that none of them saw coming, he grabbed the lighter from off the table and ran full tilt into the back yard.
After a moment of incredulity, Caitlin and her father followed him at a run.
They found him hunched over in the corner of the yard, flicking the lighter on, lighting the candle with it, watching the flame for a second or two, then blowing it out and starting all over again.
Her dad looked sternly at his son. “Mikey, you are not allowed to have the lighter. Do you understand? It is dangerous and you could hurt people with it.” He held out his hand. “Give me the lighter, Mikey.”
Mikey ignored him flicked the lighter on, lit the candle and watched the flame.
Her dad stepped closer. “Mikey.” His voice was a warning. “Give me the lighter.”
Mikey continued to watch the flame.
Her dad blew it out and, while Mikey was looking at the blown-out candle and screwing up his face in a wail, he snatched the lighter away from his son.
Mikey looked at the candle, now without a flame, and then at his empty hand where the lighter had been and started to stomp his feet and scream in fury.
Caitlin backed away. “We’d better leave him to it.” The back yard had been Mikey-proofed years ago and there was nothing in there that he could damage, or that he could use to damage himself or anyone else. Besides, when he was only having a temper tantrum to get his own way, and not a meltdown because the world was simply too overwhelming for him, he generally stopped as soon as he no longer had an audience.
Headlong (Quinn Brothers Book 2) Page 15
