The slosh of wine filling her glass broke her concentration.
‘More wine?’ Joe asked as the golden liquid almost reached the brim.
‘Thank you,’ she managed.
‘I’d still like an answer. Why didn’t you tell me the truth?’ he asked so quietly that only she could hear. The touch of his lips in her hair transformed every strand into a lightning rod. He was so close she could see the laugh lines in the corner of his eyes and the growth on his jaw but she was in no mood to let any of his charms affect her.
‘Oh, you’ll get an answer all right. I’ll even give it to you in Italian.’
Joe’s single eyebrow raised in a question and his blue eyes locked on to hers.
‘Vaffanculo.’ Anna slipped off her chair and joined the others in the kitchen.
Once Joe grabbed his smartphone, it had taken him all of ten seconds to search for a translation. Fuck off. God, she was feisty. And man, she was about the sexiest woman he’d ever met. How was he going to manage to sit across from her all through dinner without saying – or doing – something he shouldn’t?
It was twilight in Middle Point and dinner was well underway. Ry, Julia, Dan, Lizzie, Joe and Anna were seated around the huge dining table in the glass palace, enjoying the last of the delicious meal and yet another bottle of wine direct from Ry’s cellar. Joe and Anna were sitting opposite each other at one end of the table, which gave him the perfect opportunity to study her. Her mane of satiny jet-black hair was pulled back in a ponytail. The style exposed the skin on her neck, which he knew to be as soft as silk. Long gold earrings dangled from her ears and sparkled as they caught the light from overhead. Her lips, bare of lipstick, were full and plumped when she smiled. She was in full flight; glorious, passionate, Italian, half-drunk, arm-waving flight.
And Joe was awe-struck. As well as half-cut and hopeful. A wide-eyed stare from his sister caught his attention and it broke his reverie enough to tune into the conversation, which had been flowing all around him.
‘You can’t mean it, Anna,’ Julia implored, shaking her head vociferously.
Anna nodded with sincere determination. ‘I absolutely do mean it. I know it’s heresy to say it at this table, when two-thirds of us are all pathetically loved up, but I’m over men. Absolutely, positively one hundred per cent over. I’ve had it with every arrogant bastard who can’t keep his pants zipped. I’m done. D.O.N.E.’
Joe, Ry and Dan exchanged concerned glances as if Anna might pick up a butter knife any second and try to remove their testicles in a display of solidarity with the Sisterhood of the Cheated On.
‘What about me?’ Dan laughed. ‘You lumping me in with the arrogant bastards and the blokes who can’t keep their trousers on?’
The whole table exploded into laughter. Anna’s laugh was by far the loudest and it reached right into Joe’s chest and shook him from the inside out.
‘Not you specifically, Dan.’ Anna waved her hand in the air theatrically. ‘Men in general.’
Then Ry chimed in. ‘And what about me?’ He glanced down into his lap. ‘Zip definitely done up.’
Julia picked up her fork, waved it at her husband. ‘And it’d better stay that way.’
Anna slapped her palms on the table and the glasses tinkled. ‘Well … except you, Ry. You’re obviously not a cheater. Or a bastard.’
‘Thanks for the glowing endorsement.’
Lizzie picked up a bottle of wine and refilled Anna’s glass. ‘Anna, I agree with you. Some men aren’t worth the lipstick.’ Lizzie and Dan exchanged a knowing glance. ‘But not Middle Point men.’
Anna swept her hair off her shoulders and grinned. ‘Oh, stop getting in the way of my crass generalisation. I obviously haven’t studied all the medical literature on the subject but let me wallow in my very unscientific conclusion, will you? It’s just easier if I swear off all men completely. Forever.’
Joe tried to smother a smile with a swipe of his hand over his face.
‘Either I’m becoming a nun or I’m going to take a vow of chastity,’ Anna announced. ‘I haven’t decided yet.’
‘Well, what about me?’
The room fell silent. Ry, Julia, Dan, Lizzie and Anna turned to look at Joe. Then in perfect chorus, like a row of plastic carnival clowns waiting to swallow ping-pong balls, they turned to Anna. And waited.
CHAPTER
22
‘You?’ Anna placed her wine glass on the table and leaned back, crossing her arms.
‘Yes. Me.’ Joe leaned in, resting his folded arms on the table.
Anna glanced to the others at the table looking for moral support. ‘I thought we were talking about me. What’s any of this got to do with you?’
The carnival clowns watched the exchange in silence, their gaze shifting from player to player.
‘You’ve been judging every man at the table according to their ability to keep their pants zipped. I’m a man, so what about me?’
‘What about you?’ Anna challenged.
‘While it’s been said, by people no less than the Prime Minister of our wide brown land, that I am, indeed, an arrogant bastard, I am not now nor ever have been in possession of a wandering cock.’
Joe took the smallest bit of satisfaction in seeing Anna cringe, in watching her chin drop and her eyes study the table. And that blush that crept up her neck and her face? He hoped it was the mention of his tackle that had her fumbling with her necklace. He knew that she remembered exactly what he’d done with it the night of the wedding. Made her cry out with pleasure and beg for more, if he remembered correctly.
She lifted her eyes to meet his and, in the soft brown pools, he could see she remembered it too. ‘I think it all depends on your definition.’
‘Of a man?’
‘Of wandering,’ Anna said. ‘Let’s just say that if you’re married and you sleep with someone else, I would define that as wandering. And therefore, in possession of a … wandering cock.’
‘Depends on your definition,’ Joe countered. ‘Of what married means.’
Anna sat up straight, pulled her chair closer to the table. She leaned in. ‘It means being faithful. Loyal. Honest. Sticking together through thick and thin – when it’s fun and when it’s sad. It means never lying about what you want. And it means loving someone with all your heart, not part of it.’
When Joe saw the glistening tears in Anna’s eyes, he wanted to kick himself for pushing her. And then he wanted to leap right over the table and hold her, kiss away her tears and reassure her that she was worth all of those things. And so much more.
Bloody hell. Maybe he’d had too much to drink.
‘I agree with you. We deserve all those things when we marry someone. But when they take all that away and shack up with your best friend, I don’t think that could be defined as being married anymore. So, wandering? No. Searching? Maybe.’
He watched her every move in response. Anna dropped the necklace she was twisting in her fingers and it fell onto her skin. She wiped her tears and then gave him the smallest nod and a knowing smile.
Then Dan, next to him, patted him on the back with a couple of loud slaps. ‘You two really are a couple of sad fuckers, aren’t you?’
The ice was broken. Laughter echoed around the room and Lizzie picked up a fork and tapped it against her wine glass. ‘I’d like to propose a toast.’ She waited while everyone lifted a glass. ‘To non-wandering cocks! My favourite kind.’
‘To non-wandering cocks!’ they all shouted in unison.
An hour later, Julia had given in to the sleepy pregnancy hormones and gone to bed. Ry, Dan and Lizzie were in the kitchen cleaning up and had forbidden Anna to lift a finger. She thought she might flick through a magazine and try not to think about Joe, but he’d found himself a spot on the other end of the sofa. They were a safe distance apart and Anna wanted to keep it that way. She’d sat facing him, with her knees up in front of her as a safety barrier against any accidental touching.
Joe had turn
ed towards her, his legs straight in front of him on the long sofa, the denim of his jeans soft and rumpled, his black T-shirt tight across his shoulders. His bare feet were inches away from her, so close that if she wanted to reach out to tickle his feet, she could. They were nice feet. Tanned and smooth, with a dusting of fine hair and, Anna noticed, grains of sand still between his toes. She felt his gaze and when she looked up, he was staring at her, his head tilted to one side with narrowed eyes, as if he was trying to figure her out. She was trying not to give him any satisfaction on that score.
‘You’re not going to tell me, are you?’
Anna met his gaze and realised she’d had a little too much wine to focus. ‘And you’re not going to give up, are you?’
‘What kind of a journo would I be if I gave up at the first “no comment” comment?’
‘Joe,’ Anna sighed.
‘C’mon Anna, answer one question.’ He held up an index finger to emphasise his point and that damn eyebrow lifted again. If he threw in a sexy grin, Anna figured she’d be powerless against such charm and would admit everything – even to things she hadn’t done.
She considered his request. ‘Only if you answer one of mine first.’
Joe glanced over her shoulder into the kitchen to see that Dan and Lizzie were out of earshot and then leaned in towards her. Anna really wished he hadn’t done that. Every inch closer to him and his handsome felt more dangerous.
‘Okay. Fire away,’ he replied with no hesitation.
Anna dropped her voice. ‘Did your wife really run away with your best friend?’
He met her sympathetic gaze head on and she tried to read him. She’d seen many poker faces over the years, especially from men sitting across from her in the surgery on the receiving end of the worst news imaginable. She couldn’t pick what it was she could see in his face. Resignation? Anger? Embarrassment?
‘Yes.’ He took a deep breath and Anna noticed it did interesting things to the width of his shoulders.
‘God, that’s awful. I don’t know if it’s any more or less awful than my situation, but it’s still awful. Do you think there are degrees of awfulness for what’s happened to us?’
Joe sipped his wine. ‘And it turns out they’re having a kid.’
‘Merda.’
‘So it’s over. Definitely over and I’m glad about it. I won’t deny that it took me a while. But I’m done.’
Anna lowered her chin and looked at him through her long lashes. ‘Do I get another question?’
‘You’re going to owe me.’ He flashed the grin Anna had been worried about and something tremored inside her chest. It started to positively quake when Joe brought a hand to rest on the flat plane of his stomach. His strong, tanned fingers, splayed out on the rumpled black of his T-shirt. She swallowed a flitter of attraction and it sat in her belly like a fluttering bird. ‘What was worse? Losing your job or your wife?’
Joe looked to the tall windows and out into the night. Took a sip of wine and watched it as he swirled it around in the glass. ‘No comment, Dr Morelli.’
‘What’s up, you two?’ Lizzie had emerged from the kitchen and the washing up and had plonked herself on the sofa in between them. Joe pulled his feet back to make space.
‘Just chewing the fat, Mosquito,’ he said innocently and gave Lizzie a little shove with one foot.
Then Ry and Dan appeared too.
‘Good night guys. I’m heading up to bed,’ Ry said, stretching his arms high above his head and yawning. ‘Bloody hell. I’m not even the one who’s pregnant and I’m buggered, too. What do you call that, Anna?’
‘Working too hard,’ she announced and shot him a wink. ‘And getting old.’
Ry chuckled and yawned again. ‘Aw, shut up.’
‘Yeah, old man, get some shut eye before the baby arrives.’ Dan elbowed him in the ribs. ‘You won’t be getting much after.’
Ry grinned. ‘You mean sleep? Or …’
Dan chuckled, reached down for Lizzie’s hand and pulled her to standing. He wrapped his long arms around her and planted a smacking kiss on her lips.
‘Let’s go, Elizabeth.’
‘Okay, Big Guy,’ she responded with a smack on his butt. Then she turned back to her brother. ‘Night, Stinkface. I’m sure Anna will keep you company while you finish your wine.’ Her wink was for Anna and Anna alone.
‘Sure,’ Anna said. She would stay, she was curious about what Joe wanted to ask her. And whether she would decide to answer.
Joe watched Ry head upstairs and Dan and Lizzie ambled hand in hand to the front door.
Finally, the room was quiet. The low lamplight in the living room created a relaxed and tranquil glow over the room. The only sound was the soft sigh of the leather sofa as Joe stretched his legs out again. This time, his feet touched hers. She didn’t move away.
‘So.’
‘So,’ Anna replied. ‘Your burning question.’
Joe waited, searched her face. Anna wondered if it was one of the reporting tactics he employed when he was trying to snag a confession out of someone. Lull them into a false sense of security, charm them, make them feel so relaxed they just might stretch out and reveal everything.
If it was a trick, he was very good at it.
‘When you walked out on me the morning after that night – and yes, don’t look at me like I’m making it up.’
Anna rolled her eyes.
‘When you walked out on me, your last words were, and I quote: “I’m married, Joe”.’
She huffed. ‘What did you do, take notes? Were you secretly recording me? How do you remember that?’
Joe’s mouth softened, the arrogance seemed to disappear from his eyes and he dipped his head. ‘I don’t need notes to remember that night, Anna.’
She felt a shift inside her, felt something quiver and grow. It wasn’t just her. ‘It happened to be true. It still is.’
‘You’re still hanging onto that?’
‘I know it’s hard for a non-Italian, non-Catholic to understand, but I’m still married. In the eyes of the Church and the law.’
Joe swung his legs onto the floor and moved closer. Before she could react, he’d plucked her left hand from where it was resting on her knee and held it towards the lamp light. Anna could feel the strength in his hand, the strong lines of his veins visible beneath the tanned skin. He studied the huge diamond on her ring finger like he was a jeweller.
‘Man, that is huge.’
Alex had loved that ring, was so proud of it when he’d presented it to her. The ring said more about him than it did about her: he didn’t ever do anything by halves. It was a square cut, solitaire setting from one of the world’s most famous jewellers. He’d even flown to Sydney to buy it. Looking at it now, after everything that had happened, it may as well been made out of cubic zirconia for all it meant.
‘Stop it.’ Anna tried to tug her hand from his but he held on. He was right. It was huge and ridiculous and showy. And redundant.
‘Why are you still wearing it?’
She looked at Joe’s left hand and could see he’d long discarded his, if he’d ever worn one. There wasn’t even a tan line on his ring finger.
‘Is it to scare people away?’
Joe’s grip loosened and she pulled her hand away from him, twisting the ring so the stone was turned into her palm, then clenched her fingers into a fist. She didn’t want to look at it.
‘How could you understand, Joe? You’ve probably spent your whole life doing exactly what you wanted without thinking about anyone else. How could you possibly make sense of la bella figura.’
Joe stretched out an arm on the back of the sofa and his fingers almost touched her hair. ‘All the Italian I know comes from menus. Or wine bottles. Tell me.’
Anna dropped her head to the side and rested it on the soft leather of the headrest while she thought about how to put it into words. ‘La bella figura means we create a show for everyone else. It’s all about putting on a special face
for the world to hide the truth.’
‘So you’ve been hiding what happened, is that what you mean?’
Anna sighed and nodded. ‘I’m the first born. I’m a doctor. I’m the good Italian girl. That’s a whole world of expectations right there. I’ve only just told my family. I hid it for months.’
‘You’re right,’ Joe said. ‘I have spent my whole life doing exactly what I wanted. Lucky for me I don’t have family and I was a long way away. How do you hide something like that from yours?’
Anna closed her eyes. ‘With lots of lies.’
‘How did they react?’
Remembering the love and support of her family brought fresh tears to her eyes. ‘Much better than I thought.’
‘So it’s out there now, isn’t it?’ Why do you give two shits about what people say?’
‘My family is one thing and that was hard enough. But the looks and the pity and the tut-tutting I’m going to get from everyone else? And it won’t just be my patients. It will be my neighbours and all my extended family, and everyone else with religious objections and those who have no right to know any of my business but will offer an opinion anyway. If I take off my ring, they’ll know …’ The cold, hard, humiliating truth of it.
‘Did you put on an act that night for me or was that the real you?’
‘I …’ Anna wasn’t sure. How could she answer his question?
‘Anna, just be who you are. You don’t have to pretend to be anyone else. Your family coped. Why are you still putting up a front for everyone else?’
Joe’s words hit her right in the heart. Why did she still need to be the good girl for people who didn’t care about her? Why was that so important to her?
Tonight I have no history. Tonight I have no past. I have only this moment. Her own words came back to her from the night she’d felt free.
‘You available tomorrow, Joe?’
Joe grinned. ‘Let me check my diary. Wait, I don’t have a diary. What do you have in mind, Dr Morelli?’
Our Kind of Love Page 15
