by Cathryn Hein
‘Oh, Digby.’
Rocked by uncertainly, he’d stiffened. His confidence that she’d love what he’d designed was now somewhere in his socks. Digby began to roll up the paper. ‘I was only mucking around.’
Her hand stayed his. He stared at it, afraid. All he’d wanted was to give something back. A thank you for the comfort she’d provided him. It wasn’t meant to be a big deal, but from the way she was looking at him it had become one. His heart thudded. In fear. In want. In hope.
‘You did this for me?’
He nodded, still unsure.
‘Why?’
He covered his nerves with a joke. ‘Looked at your garden lately?’
She didn’t laugh or smile or do anything except examine his face. ‘Have you any idea how amazing you are?’
Digby didn’t know what to say. It was too disconcerting. She was looking at him as if he were some miraculous creature that had crawled from the sea and taken up residence in her kitchen. Yet there was something else. As if the tear-salted soil of his grief had been suddenly turned over, exposing the fresh loam beneath, and now the seeds of something green and good were sprouting from it.
They’d spent another hour poring over the plans, Digby soaking up her delight with relief and pride. Then he’d dragged her off to bed, the urge to lose himself inside her big-hearted warmth too great to resist.
The positivity of his feelings had allowed him to enjoy Tuesday-night dinner at Camrick. On a high, he’d managed to talk politely with Em about her and Josh’s honeymoon to the United Kingdom. He was even surprised to find himself amused that she seemed far more excited about that than the wedding itself. Across the table, Josh had nodded subtle thanks, while later, as Digby waited to dry the dishes, Adrienne had hugged him tightly. His grandmother had watched it all with a knowing smile, before retreating to her balcony to smoke, drink and contemplate the town she considered her realm.
Afterwards, he’d driven to Admella Beach with eagerness in his veins, anxious to spend more time with the woman who, he hoped, was also beginning to feel the change in their relationship. Her welcome, his fluttery feelings as he kissed her in the hall and, laughing, all the way to her bedroom made Digby certain he would make it through the week, that his jealousy and anger were under control.
Then came the first cruel pinch.
He’d caught up with Harry and Josh late on Monday afternoon to pick up their suits and enjoy a quiet beer at the Australian Arms. Theirs were classic dinner suits, with satin shawl lapels and tailored pleated pants. With the exception of a white shirt, Josh’s was all black, including his bow tie, while Harry’s and Digby’s were teamed with navy vests and ties in blue to match to the bridesmaids’ dresses. Harry had poked fun, striking James Bond poses, but on sighting Josh in his suit Digby had found himself bereft of laughter.
His friend emerged from the change room, shooting his cuffs and tweaking his tie, a grin splitting his face. Josh strutted, wobbling his head. ‘Bit of a looker, yeah?’
‘Not bad,’ said Harry. ‘As long as you don’t count the giant bonce.’
‘No problems, Dig?’
Digby had swallowed the prickly thing in his throat, but it remained jammed. He nodded and quickly re-entered the change room before either of them noticed the sweat forming above his lip and in the hollows beneath his eyes. As he turned to shut the curtain, he caught Josh’s eye and lowered his head in shame at the envy burning an acid hole in his gut.
Josh made no comment until they were alone. After one beer, Harry had muttered something about hoping to catch someone on his way home and loped off.
Josh pointed to Digby’s glass. ‘Another?’
He probably shouldn’t but Digby owed Josh an explanation. ‘Just a light.’
While he waited he tried to formulate an excuse: a momentary attack of nerves, embarrassment at looking like a penguin. But that was bullshit and Josh would know it.
‘You want to tell me what happened back there?’ said Josh when he’d placed a beer in front of Digby and settled down.
‘I don’t know.’ Digby palmed his forehead. ‘It was weird. For a moment I just felt like I’d been steamrollered.’
Josh considered while he sipped and swallowed. ‘Jealousy?’
Though the admission was humiliating, he nodded. ‘It’s crap, I know.’
‘It’s four days until the wedding. You going to be over it by then?’
‘I’m over it now. It was just a moment.’
Except as the week moved on and the pinches came more frequent and harder, Digby could no longer deny they were simply ‘moments’.
The bridal party had another dinner together at Camrick on Wednesday night, this time celebrating the arrival of Teagan’s parents, and her glamorous aunt Vanessa with new husband Dom, who’d flown in that day from Sydney. With the weather in the high twenties, Adrienne had arranged a barbecue in the backyard rather than a meal in the cavernous dining room, but that hadn’t given Digby respite from his wayward feelings. Nonstop happy wedding chatter had flooded his senses to the point where he’d felt like he was drowning in it.
Aware of Granny B’s keen regard, and not wanting to add to Adrienne’s excitement, Jas was keeping well away, which left Digby grateful and annoyed at the same time. He needed her stability but was also aware how unfair his feelings were. They’d become so involved he and Jas were practically living together. Yet here he was, sweating and shivering over a dead woman and a milestone event he’d wanted more than anything to share with her.
When he’d been certain no one was looking, Digby had slipped inside the stables and up to the privacy of his apartment until the sick feeling passed, returning twenty minutes later with no one, except Jas and perhaps his beady-eyed gran, any wiser to the turmoil he’d been experiencing.
He was still kidding himself it would be fine when they’d turned up at Levenham’s historic Anglican church on Thursday night for the rehearsal, but the moment he entered and saw the aisle and altar and magnificent stained-glass windows, the pinches came fast and vicious.
His skull ached from the thoughts ricocheting inside. The faults in his psyche, the weakness of his manhood. His lack of common decency. He was betraying Felicity by being there, by sleeping with another woman and enjoying it. He was exploiting Jasmine’s big warm heart for his own pathetic ends, with no payoff for her. He had no forgiveness in his soul for the sister he was meant to love. He was weak, selfish, and fuelled by jealousy and condemnation.
A stained-glass angel cast her accusing gaze. Even Christ seemed to stare at him in reproof. Digby clenched his jaw. For everyone’s sake he had to hold himself together.
‘All well, Digby?’ asked the minister.
For a long moment Digby stared at the man’s face, desperate for any kind of help, before force of will steadied him again. ‘As well as can be.’
Reverend Ellis was an astute man, who’d also been witness to Digby’s grief at the funeral as well as at Camrick, when he’d been called in by Adrienne for support. His perceptive gaze didn’t leave Digby. ‘A bittersweet time for you, perhaps?’
Bittersweet barely touched the edges but Digby wasn’t about to give himself away. ‘I’ll get through it.’
‘If you need support, even a casual chat, I’m on hand.’
‘Thanks. I’ll be fine.’
From the way Reverend Ellis watched him for the remainder of the rehearsal, Digby had convinced no one. Not even himself.
Fortunately Harry provided plenty of distraction. Digby was walking behind Josh and Em, focusing on keeping one foot in front of the other and looking everywhere except at the joy-filled couple in front of him. Jasmine’s grip was tight on his arm. Like the minister, she’d been observing him with concern and though he’d answered her whispered inquiries with all the strength he could muster, she’d kept encouraging him with smiles and surreptitious touches.
They were halfway down the aisle when Harry attempted to quiz Teagan about what to do about some gi
rl he’d met. Before Felicity, Digby hadn’t had the greatest success with women either, but Harry’s ineptitude put him in a class of his own.
‘You’re a woman,’ Harry said to Teagan.
‘I know this will probably come as a shock to you, Harry, but yes, I am.’
Catching Digby’s eye, Jas grinned and tilted her head towards the couple behind as if to say, ‘Have a listen to this.’
‘What?’ asked Harry, clearly flummoxed by Teagan’s answer. ‘Oh. Sorry. Didn’t mean it like that. I mean, you must think like one.’
Jas fell out of step as she listened in, slowing Digby with her.
Teagan’s bemused silence was broken by a sulky ‘Forget it’ from Harry.
‘Sorry,’ said Teagan, bubbling with suppressed laughter. ‘Can’t now.’
‘Definitely can’t,’ whispered Jas before calling loudly to Harry over her shoulder. ‘Girl problems, Harry?’
Which only brought Em in on the farce. ‘Does Harry have girl problems?’
Everyone stopped walking and turned around to face Harry, who was looking even sulkier than he’d sounded.
‘Harry,’ said Josh, ‘suffered a little problem with his beautician at the spa on Friday that he wants to make up for.’
Em’s gaze flicked from her fiancé to Harry. ‘What problem? They’ve always been very good at Lush. Gran goes all the time.’
‘Nothing,’ said Harry, shooting an icy glare at Josh. ‘Just forget it.’
Teagan nudged him. ‘Come on. Spit it out.’
‘No.’
Digby felt a surge of sympathy for the poor bloke. From Josh’s unsubtle gibes Digby had already guessed that Harry must have suffered a hard-on during his massage. Unsurprising. They all had, but not everyone had Josh’s confidence and Harry seemed genuinely rattled by the incident.
‘Is it Maya?’ said Jas. ‘Because you probably should know she’s seeing Dylan Mortenson.’
Harry all but rolled his eyes at this. ‘I know that.’
‘Then what?’ asked Em. Folding her arms, she rested her weight on one hip. ‘If there’s a problem I need to know. Josh mentioned how impressed you were with Summer so I booked her for Saturday to help with make-up.’
A grin burst over Harry’s face. ‘You did?’
The church sighed with their ahs. Jas laughed in delight while Harry dropped his head in mortification and contemplated the carpet.
Digby came to his rescue. ‘Can this wait? I don’t know about you, but I could do with a beer. And Lucas is stuck in the pub by himself.’
At which point Josh hustled them back to the altar for one last run through.
In the pub, Digby let the conversation wash over him as Harry was grilled about Summer Taylor, the girl he’d developed a deep crush on but had zero idea how to ask out. Matters weren’t made any easier by Harry previously having bawled Summer out for letting her horse escape onto the road he frequently took into town from the farm. Advice flew around the table before Lucas, who’d been fairly quiet until then, chimed in with a simple, ‘Just ask her. She can only say no.’
‘Even then it won’t be the end of the world,’ said Teagan. ‘I knocked Lucas back stacks of times before I went anywhere with him.’
Lucas’s hand covered Teagan’s as he smiled at her. ‘Wore her down in the end.’
‘Em and I had our moments too,’ said Josh, picking up the serious vibe. ‘And look where we are.’
Jas planted a friendly kiss on Harry’s cheek. ‘Cheer up, big boy. You have us on your side now. And thanks to Em booking Summer to do our make-up, we’ll have her all to ourselves come Saturday. Hours in which to sing your praises. She won’t stand a chance.’
A comment that only left Harry looking more anxious.
‘You were quiet tonight,’ said Jas, as she poured glasses of wine in the kitchen back at her place.
Digby shrugged. He didn’t want to talk about tonight. The thoughts that had pounded his head in the church had subsided but that didn’t mean they didn’t still exist.
When he didn’t answer, she bit her lip and concentrated on pouring.
Digby hunted for an explanation, one that would offer comfort, but could find none. After what happened, he wasn’t sure he should even be here. Except he knew himself well enough to realise home would only be worse.
He didn’t understand what was happening. For one short period on Sunday he’d felt some sort of closure with Felicity was within reach. Four days later he was sinking back into the mire of his own jealousy and loss.
And from the upset Jas was trying so hard to hide, he was dragging her with him. Digby opened his mouth to tell her that perhaps it was time he went but Jas got in first.
‘It’s Felicity, isn’t it?’
He nodded.
She fiddled with her wineglass. ‘I wish I could stop it hurting.’
‘You do.’
Mostly. When Digby was alone with Jas the pain faded to nothing, obliterated by her warmth and sexiness. It was the wedding he had no defence against. The chance to say the vows that would have proven to Flick how much he loved her. Instead she’d died without that security in her heart.
Jasmine’s head remained down. ‘Not enough, I suspect.’
The sight of her lowered head filled Digby with remorse. He held out an arm. ‘Come here.’
She folded herself against him and spoke muffled words into his chest. ‘I hate seeing you in pain.’ A vigorous shake of her head halted his protest. ‘Don’t deny it. I know you are. We all know it.’
He stroked her silky curls. So much for keeping his feelings hidden.
‘I’m trying to make it better but I don’t know how.’
‘It’s not your job, Jas. It’s something I can only do myself.’
She pulled away from his chest and rubbed her eyes, her smile forced. ‘I know. But do you mind if I hold your hand along the way? That way, if you stumble I’ll be there to steady you.’
He didn’t deserve this. ‘Jas—’
She held up her palm. ‘I’m not her. I never will be. I understand that. But I’m still your friend, Dig. Whatever the consequences, I want to stand by you.’
The words had Digby pulling her back against him. Christ, she was something. He buried his nose in her scented hair. ‘It might not end well.’
‘Can’t be any worse than what happened with Mike.’
He laughed despite himself. ‘I guess not.’
‘Exactly. Now take me to bed. If this really is going to end badly, I want to make the most of you while I can.’
CHAPTER
21
Jas woke on Friday morning and rolled onto her side to stare at the man beside her. Digby was stretched on his back, sheet ruffled down around his hips, his chest rising and falling with every slow sleepy breath.
There was no hurry to rise. In preparation for the wedding Jas had taken another day’s annual leave. Em was floating her horse, and another borrowed one for Teagan, to Admella Beach after lunch, and the three planned a leisurely ride together along the bay, like they used to before Teagan moved away. Afterwards, Jas would travel with them to Rocking Horse Hill to spend a girlie night with Teagan and the bride, trading memories, toasting Em, and solving the world’s problems.
Until then, she had Digby, her friend turned lover.
But as she stared at his restful features and traced her gaze over his lean body—a body she’d shared in the most intimate way—Jas suddenly realised this was more than friendship, more than sex. Digby had become the man she loved.
And he was going to break her heart.
Stabbed by the realisation, Jas bit her lip. She had to hide this, keep pretending she was fine. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been warned. Digby had practically laid out that the relationship was unlikely to survive long term, and last night Jas had had the awful sense that he wanted to end it right then. Only her plea to him to keep leaning on her had kept Digby from withdrawing from her life.
How long she could conti
nue holding him in place, Jas didn’t know. Whatever torment Felicity’s memory was giving him, it was powerful, and while Jas might have Digby’s body, she had only a tiny scrap of his heart. The majority remained with her.
‘You’re staring,’ he said, not opening his eyes.
‘I am.’ She walked fingers up his sternum. ‘In case you were unaware, you’re a bit of a babe.’
Digby’s mouth twitched at the compliment.
Jas skittered her fingers to it, and traced his lips, remembering what that beautiful mouth had done last night. What both their mouths had done. ‘I like these. They’re smooth and soft and sensitive, but strong too.’ Her fingers moved on, following the contours of his cheekbones. ‘These are lovely as well.’ She traced his eyebrows, avoiding the faint scar on his forehead left from his quarry fall. ‘And these are wonderfully expressive. And this,’ she skied the straight slope of his nose, ‘is very noble looking.’
She continued her slow, seductive exploration, admiring his ears, his Adam’s apple, the planes of his shoulders, the density of his biceps and chest muscles. Digby remained unmoving but she could feel and hear his increased breaths.
The lines of hairs on his chest and belly warranted particular attention, with strokes, finger-combs and gentle tugs. She teased his nipples, watching, delighted, as they puckered, feeling her own tighten in response. She slipped her palm over his hip, her voice low. ‘I like this spot too, and …’ Her hand slid across to cup his groin. He was hard, the skin of his cock silky, the tip moist. ‘… I especially like this.’
Jas glanced at his face, expecting amusement but there was none. His jaw was flexed, his mouth a line, and he was swallowing. She shuffled back up the bed and traced the furrows of his forehead, hiding her worry with tenderness. ‘I like what’s in here.’ She cupped his cheek, turning him to her, and carefully kissed his mouth. Her palm slid to his chest to rest over his fast-beating heart, her voice a whisper. ‘But it’s what’s in here that’s the most special.’
Suddenly he rolled, plunging her to her back and enveloping her in the human blanket of his body. His arms were folded over her, hugging tightly, his leg hooked around her knee, drawing her into him. His face was jammed in the hollow of her neck. He’d wrapped Jas so thoroughly it was as if he were trying to absorb her. So abrupt had been the change, Jas couldn’t tell if he was upset with her or if the attention was due to overwhelming passion.
