He squatted down in front of Robbie and Chase, a glance over his shoulder confirming that Quinn still slept. ‘Okay, it shouldn’t just be a girls’ game, but it kinda is.’ He didn’t want these kids getting bullied. ‘So I wouldn’t play it at your new school.’
‘Right.’ Robbie nodded, evidently glad the question had been settled.
Chase leant against Aidan and the rush of the child’s heat against his arm did something strange to Aidan’s stomach. He had a sudden primeval impulse to take out anyone who tried to hurt these kids.
‘But,’ Chase whispered, ‘I like playing hopscotch.’
And nobody should be allowed to prevent these kids from enjoying such an innocent diversion. ‘That’s why I think you should play it at home whenever you want. If anyone finds out about it and gives you a hard time, tell them your mum makes you play it with her. In fact—’ a grin built through him ‘—when you have friends around, tee up with your mum beforehand to make you all play it.’
They’d all love it. He’d tell Quinn to make cake...or chocolate crackles. Kids would forgive any eccentricity for chocolate crackles. They might groan to their parents or other kids that Ms Laverty made them play hopscotch, but then they’d remember the chocolate crackles and still think she was great.
It’d be a win all round.
He beamed at the boys. They beamed back. ‘C’mon, who’s up next?’
* * *
Quinn woke to find Aidan playing hopscotch with Robbie and Chase. She blinked. She sat up and then had to blink again. He actually looked as if he was having fun!
She suddenly grinned, all trace of her thundering headache gone. The sun, the clear blue sky and the dry dusty smells of the rest area seemed filled with a promise they’d all lacked earlier.
She lifted her chin and pushed away the doubts that had spent the night harrying and hounding her. This new beginning should be savoured, not dreaded. Mindless worrying wouldn’t help any of them.
Aidan glanced around as if he’d sensed her gaze. Her heart did a silly little flip-flop. Actually, maybe it wasn’t so silly. Perhaps it was entirely understandable. Aidan looked a whole lot more...uh, personable without his jacket and tie...or his shoes and socks.
‘You lot must be ready for a drink and a snack,’ she called out, but her voice came out a bit higher and threadier than it usually did. She blamed it on the dust in the air. The boys raced over, full of reports of their game, but she only heard every second word. Her eyes never left Aidan. He packed up the game and then ambled over—practically sauntering—and it highlighted the leanness of his hips and the power of his thighs.
And it made her throat as dry as a desert. An ancient hunger built through her. Ancient as in primeval. And ancient as in she hadn’t experienced this kind of hunger in over five years. She dragged her gaze away, refused to let it dwell on a body that interested her far too much. Bodies were just bodies. Hormones were just hormones. And this was nothing more than a hormone-induced aberration. She handed out sliced apple, carrot sticks and bottled water and kept her eyes to herself as best she could.
Aidan fell down onto the blanket beside her, slugging her with his heat. The scent of his perspiration rose up, making her gulp. She tried telling herself she loathed man sweat. But it was clean sweat earned in the service of playing with her children and she couldn’t hate it. Beneath it threaded that woodsy spice that she’d like to get to know a whole lot better.
‘How are you feeling?’
His words rumbled against her. She grabbed an apple slice and crunched it, nodding her head all the while. ‘Much better. Thank you for letting me sleep—’ she glanced at her watch ‘—for a whole hour!’ He’d taken care of the boys for a whole hour? ‘Oh my word! What kind of irresponsible mother you must think me!’ What kind of mother just fell asleep in a strange place and—?
‘I think you’re a brilliant mother, Quinn.’
She had to look at him then. Her mouth opened and closed but no sound came out.
‘So do we,’ Robbie said.
Chase nodded.
She had to swallow a lump. ‘Thank you.’ She cleared her throat. ‘All of you.’
‘I’m going to run now,’ Robbie said gravely, and then proceeded to do precisely that. Chase followed at his heels.
She turned back to Aidan to find those molten amber eyes surveying her. ‘Thank you for keeping them entertained.’
‘It was no big deal.’
He lifted a shoulder, which only alerted her to the fact that while he might not have the physique of a bodybuilder, his shoulders had breadth and his chest didn’t lack for depth.
Oh, stop it. She dug fingernails into her palms. A man let her sleep for an hour and she became a sex maniac? I don’t think so.
‘The boys and I had fun. You obviously didn’t sleep well last night and I expect the last few weeks have been hectic with the preparations for the move. You’re entitled to some downtime too.’
And for the first time in a long time she caught a glimpse of what it must be like to co-parent rather than having to do it all on her own. The vision was unbelievably beguiling.
A man let her sleep for an hour so she built family fantasies about him? She bit back a snort. I don’t think so. Those fantasies were nothing but a big fat lie. In her experience, most men couldn’t be trusted to stick to something as important as fatherhood and even if Aidan proved to be one of the exceptions he never would with her.
And she sure as heck wouldn’t with him! Nothing—nothing—would ever induce her back into his world and that privileged circle again. She could see it already—the claims of his job would eventually take precedence over his wife and any children he might have. In effect, his wife would be a single parent. Mind you, she’d have the money to hire nannies, but what were nannies to a parent’s love? Quinn refused to raise her children in a world where social status and professional prestige were more important than the warmth and intimacy of family ties.
She bit into another slice of apple and glared at a nearby stunted tree, grateful Aidan hadn’t connected her with the Sydney Lavertys. It wasn’t something she publicised and it certainly wasn’t something she wanted to talk about.
But the memory of his world brought her back to herself. It reminded her of all of his responsibilities and duties. ‘How was your mother when you rang her last night?’
He grimaced.
This was one of the many things she’d considered in the wee small hours when sleep had refused to come. ‘I thought about her last night.’
He lifted a brow. ‘And?’
‘I think you need to give her a task, something concrete to do.’
‘To take her mind off...other things?’
‘It’s hard to brood when you’re busy.’
He considered her words and very slowly the line around his mouth eased. ‘I could get her to double check the arrangements with the caterers and—’
‘I was thinking—’
She broke off and flushed. ‘Sorry, that was rude of me. I have no right stomping on your ideas with my big fat hypothetical work boots.’
‘I’d like to hear your idea.’
He would? She glanced up to find him watching her closely and it occurred to her that he wouldn’t have been nearly as open if he’d known her. But as they’d never clap eyes on each other again—well, she might see him on the television but that didn’t count—after the next few days it was almost as if they were in a bubble. A bubble that had no impact or relevance on their real day-to-day lives. And when they returned to those real lives there’d be barely a ripple of this time to ruffle the surface.
It was unbelievably freeing. She understood that.
It was also unutterably sad, which she didn’t understand at all.
She shrugged that off and dragged her attention back to the conversation. ‘I just think you need to give your mother something to do that she can’t shrug off as unimportant or that she can delegate to someone else.’
�
��You think she considers the party unimportant?’
Yikes! She’d need to tread carefully. Aidan had been through enough and she had no wish to hurt his feelings. Before she could roll out a tactful response, though, he said, ‘You think the party is making me feel better, but not my mother.’
‘I don’t know your mother, Aidan, so I can’t possibly comment on that.’ He leaned away from her. Lines of strain fanned out from his mouth and it made her heart clench. ‘I bet it’s making your father feel better.’
His head snapped up, confirming her suspicions. She made herself smile. ‘And that’s no mean feat, surely?’ The man had lost his child too.
Air rushed out of him. ‘Dad and I concocted the party idea between us.’ He lifted a hand as if to push it back through his hair, but he let it drop as if he didn’t have the energy for it. ‘It’s given us something else to focus on.’
Her heart thumped. ‘Aidan?’
He looked up.
‘A party, no matter how ritzy and beautiful, or how well-meaning, won’t...’
‘Won’t make up to my mother for losing a son,’ he said, blunt and emotionless.
She tried not to flinch.
‘You must think I’m an unbelievable idiot, and shallow to boot, to think a party would help.’
‘I think you’re worried about your mother and want to see her happy.’
He met her eyes.
‘But I think you might be better served giving her something to do that she thinks is important. I mean as important as your desire to cheer her up is to you.’
He mulled her suggestion over for a moment. She could see his mind ticking over, but she had no idea what conclusion he came to. ‘You make a good case.’ The faintest of smiles touched his lips and something inside her unclenched a fraction. ‘I take it you have had a thought or two on that head as well.’
‘Well...yes.’
The smile grew a millimetre or two bigger. ‘C’mon then, out with it.’
She pulled in a breath. ‘I asked myself what your mother would consider important and I didn’t have to go far to find it—you. She’s invested in your happiness and your welfare, yes?’
His lips twisted. ‘Yes.’
‘Therefore, I expect your career is of prime importance to her.’
He closed his eyes and just like that any trace of a smile vanished. Her throat tightened as if a fist squeezed about it. She wasn’t sure what she’d said wrong, but she had no intention of adding to her travelling companion’s heartache. She straightened and eased back. ‘I’m sorry. Like I said before, this is none of my business and I have no right—’
‘I would like to hear what you have to say.’
She bit her lip but his gaze held hers so steadily that eventually she nodded. ‘I was thinking that you should ask her to go into your office to oversee the daily operations of your campaign while you’re not there.’
‘I have staff to do that!’
‘You could tell her that you respect your staff, but that you trust her rather than them to have your best interests at heart.’ She rubbed her right hand back and forth across her left. ‘You could tell her that you believe she was one of the reasons your father was elected when he ran for office back in the nineties. You could tell her that if she can find the time and has the heart for it, that it would mean the world to you if she would help you run your campaign.’
He’d gone grey. ‘It’s the one thing I’ve been avoiding.’
She bit her lip but the question slipped out anyway. ‘Why?’
He stared up at the sky for a long moment. ‘Selfish reasons.’
She bit her lip so hard then that nothing could slip out.
He straightened and pushed his shoulders back. ‘You’re right, though. That’s precisely the kind of thing that would give her another focus. Dad and I have been wrapping her in cotton wool and that’s the last thing she needs right now. What she needs is to be busy with some project close to her heart.’
‘It’s not selfish to want to protect the people we love. It’s natural.’
He reached out to grip her shoulder, squeeze it, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. ‘You’re wise beyond your years. Thank you.’
She frowned. ‘You’re welcome.’
His hand remained on her shoulder and every nerve in her body sprang to life, making her breath hitch. He stilled and then his gaze speared to hers. He took in the expression on her face and that hot caramel gaze of his lowered to her lips. Something inside her started to tremble and gasp and her blood quickened in a sweet rush of need.
His eyes darkened. Hunger flared in their depths. His gaze locked to hers. ‘Quinn?’ He leaned towards her.
She tried to shake her head, to negate the question in his eyes, but her body refused to cooperate with her common sense. Her lips parted. If she leaned towards him...
A stream of childhood laughter reached her and it gave her just enough strength to close her eyes and lower her chin. Aidan removed his hand and eased back, but his scent—all spice and woods—wove around her, and she started to ache. She heard him climb to his feet. If she just whispered his name...
‘Probably time for us to hit the road again.’
She snapped her eyes open and steeled her spine. She gave a swift nod of agreement. Excellent idea. She didn’t say the words out loud, though. She didn’t trust her voice not to betray her.
* * *
They reached Norseman at five o’clock.
Norseman had a population of sixteen hundred and was one of the few towns on the Nullarbor Plain with decent facilities. Quinn had called ahead to book her and the boys a caravan for the night. Tonight, regardless of how hard her bunk might prove to be, she’d be asleep by the time her head hit the pillow.
She and the boys had hamburgers for dinner. She allayed her guilt by telling herself they were on their holidays.
She didn’t know where Aidan ate. Or when. Her efforts to avoid him had met with spectacular success. She suspected that was due to the fact that she had his full cooperation on that front.
She thought of that moment again—the moment when they might have kissed—and her breath jammed. How much she’d wanted to kiss him! But kissing Aidan was out of the question. The world he belonged to had betrayed her before. She wasn’t giving it a chance to hurt her again.
Thank heavens for Robbie and Chase. They kept her busy, claiming most of her attention and giving her little time to brood. However, they both fell asleep before seven o’clock. Quinn might be tired, but seven o’clock was far too early for a grown woman to go to bed.
She glanced around the caravan, rubbed her hands together a few times, picked up a magazine and then put it down again. She was too wired. With a glance at the sleeping boys, she eased the door to their caravan open and slipped outside. If the insects weren’t too fierce she could sit out here at one of the picnic tables for a bit and lap up the quiet.
And the quiet was amazing. So was the dark. It had never been this dark in her suburb in Perth. She glanced up and her jaw dropped. She took a few steps forward. Stars, magnificent in their brightness and multitude, stretched across a navy dark sky and she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen anything so spectacular in all her life.
‘It takes your breath away, doesn’t it?’
Aidan! She half turned but kept her gaze firmly fixed on the stars. He stole her breath. ‘They’re amazing.’ And if her breath came out a tad husky she’d blame it on the night air and the majesty of the sky.
‘I was hoping you’d be out here.’
That made her look at him.
He held a bottle of wine in one hand and two wine glasses in the other. Her mouth dried. ‘Aidan,’ she croaked. ‘I—’
‘It’s just a glass of wine, Quinn. That’s all, I promise.’
Without another word, she took a seat at the table he gestured to and accepted a glass of wine with a murmured, ‘Thank you.’ She couldn’t help it. There was something about this man she trusted.
/> ‘Cheers.’ He raised his glass. She raised hers back. They both sipped...and grimaced. ‘Sorry,’ he murmured. ‘There wasn’t a whole lot of choice at the hotel.’
‘Don’t apologise. This is nice.’ She gestured to the bottle. ‘Makes me feel like a grown-up.’
Which, perhaps, wasn’t the message she should be broadcasting. ‘I mean it’s such a change from sitting holding a toy car or a super-soaker or someone’s crayon that—’
‘I knew what you meant.’
His words, soft and warm in the dark, skimmed the bare surface of her arms and neck and she had to suppress a shiver. A sexy shiver. For heaven’s sake, she had to find a way to get over this stupid awareness. She glanced at Aidan. And this stupid awkwardness. She’d been fine before she’d started lusting after him. She’d been fine when they’d been talking about his mother.
Speaking of which...
‘Have you spoken to your mother tonight?’
‘Yes.’
He didn’t elaborate. She bit the inside of her cheek and then took a hasty sip of wine. ‘It improves on a second tasting,’ she offered.
He suddenly laughed. ‘You’re minding your manners beautifully. To answer the question you refuse to ask, your little suggestion has worked a treat. My mother is racing into my office first thing tomorrow to make sure everything is shipshape. And heaven help my staff if it’s not.’
‘Have you warned them?’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘And your mother seemed...’ Happy was too much to hope for. ‘Engaged?’
‘Yes,’ he murmured. ‘Yes, she did.’
‘Well, that’s good isn’t it?’ He sounded pleased and not pleased at the same time.
‘Of course it’s good.’
He didn’t add anything else.
Okay. Um...
Quinn went back to staring at the stars until the silence chafed too badly. She risked a glance at her travelling companion and found him staring into his wine glass with pursed lips.
‘So...uh...are you staying at the caravan park too?’
‘I’m staying in one of the cabins here.’
He didn’t say anything else. It took all her willpower to stop from jiggling her legs. Tonight this silence with Aidan was too fraught. She wanted the distraction of conversation. ‘So...’ She decided against asking if his cabin was nice or not. It might be a step up from a caravan, but she expected it would still be fairly basic. ‘Have you always wanted to be a politician?’
Road Trip with the Eligible Bachelor Page 5
