Road Trip with the Eligible Bachelor

by Michelle Douglas

  And Quinn said now what she’d said back then. ‘I don’t want your money. I won’t accept your money.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Spare me the arguments. I already know the things I could do with the ludicrous amount of money you’d be prepared to offer me and, yes, I know the advantages my boys could gain from it, but I have too much self-respect. It’s more important for me to be able to look my sons in the eye.’

  Vera opened her mouth again, but Quinn kept talking right over the top of her. ‘I have too much respect for Aidan too. Do you have any idea how furious he’d be if he found out about this?’

  Vera fell into the other chair as if she couldn’t help it.

  ‘I don’t care about the insult offered to me. After all, what are we to each other? But the insult offered to Aidan...’ Her hands clenched about the arms of her chair. ‘How can you show him such little respect?’

  ‘You will ruin him!’ The older woman’s face twisted. ‘You will ruin everything good that he stands for.’

  ‘How can you give him so little credit?’ She sat back, her stomach churning harder and faster. The people from Aidan’s world, though, would agree with Vera, would believe what she said with every conceited, supercilious bone in their bodies. They’d believe that a woman like her would blight Aidan’s life.

  Aidan was from that world, just as Phillip had been, and eventually he’d believe it too. She pulled in a breath. She and Aidan were not going to travel down the same path she and Phillip had. She’d make sure of it.

  Not that Vera Fairhall knew that. She thought she was fighting for her son’s reputation. The only son she had left.

  Quinn reached across and squeezed Vera’s hand. ‘I know of your recent troubles and I’m very sorry for your loss. More sorry than I can say.’

  ‘You know nothing!’ Vera pulled her hand away, but she looked as if she might cry.

  ‘You’re right. I’ve never suffered a loss like that. The very thought of it makes me feel ill.’

  Vera turned back.

  ‘Aidan has talked to me about it a little. I know he and his father have been very worried about you and that they’ve been searching for ways to try and help you in your grief.’

  ‘This is none of your business!’

  ‘But in amongst all of this awfulness, who’s been looking out for Aidan?’

  ‘Don’t you dare!’

  Why not? Somebody had to. She leaned towards Vera. ‘He’s lost a brother he loved more than he’s ever loved himself.’

  ‘And you’re taking advantage of his grief!’

  Vera’s pain was almost tangible. Quinn’s eyes burned. ‘No,’ she said as gently as she could. ‘I’m not the one who’s taking advantage of him.’

  Air hissed out from between Vera’s teeth.

  ‘If you continue trying to turn him into Danny, Mrs Fairhall, you’ll have not only lost one son—you’ll have lost the both of them.’

  Vera rose and left Quinn’s room without another word.

  ‘That went well,’ she whispered to the ceiling. And then she flung herself face down on her bed and burst into tears.

  * * *

  Quinn mightn’t have slept much, but nevertheless she was up before either Robbie or Chase the next morning. The knock on her door, when it came, didn’t surprise her.

  Vera or Aidan?

  She opened it.

  Aidan.

  She stood back to let him in and then went to the window and pushed the curtains even wider, flooding every inch of the room with as much sunlight as she could. It didn’t erase the seductive appeal of the queen-sized bed, but it helped. A bit.

  ‘The boys?’

  ‘Still asleep.’

  ‘Right. Okay.’ He adjusted his stance. ‘There’s been a change of plan.’

  Her stomach started to pitch and her heart grew heavy. ‘Oh?’

  ‘I’m going to accompany you as far as Sydney now.’

  She gripped her hands together and shook her head. ‘No.’

  He frowned. He started to open his mouth.

  ‘You’re not invited,’ she said before he could speak. ‘This was always where we were going to part ways and we’re sticking to that original plan.’

  He turned grey then and she ached for him. It took all of her strength to remain where she was rather than racing across and flinging her arms around him.

  He strode across and thrust a finger beneath her nose. ‘We are more than ships in the night, regardless of what you think.’ His voice was low and it shook, but there was no mistaking his sincerity.

  Maybe. Maybe not. But one thing was certain. ‘I will not be used as some kind of distraction or delaying tactic. You need to sort your life out, Aidan. Not tomorrow or next week or after you’ve lost the campaign, but now. And if you think putting it off is helping anyone then think again.’

  He glared. She glared back, but she couldn’t maintain it. ‘I want to tell you something.’ She sat in one of the tub chairs, though fell might’ve been a more accurate description.

  He folded himself into the other. ‘Go on.’ His voice was so chilly it raised gooseflesh on her arms.

  She met his gaze. ‘Children don’t owe their parents diddly-squat.’

  His head rocked back. ‘Steady on!’

  ‘If parents inspire respect and love, that’s great, but it doesn’t mean children owe their parents a damn thing. It’s the parents who owe their children.’ She leaned towards him to try and drive her point home. ‘It’s the parents—or parent—who made the decision to bring a child into the world. It’s therefore the parents’ responsibility to keep that child safe and healthy. It’s therefore the parents’ responsibility to give that child as good a life as they can.’

  ‘And the good schools and the extracurricular sporting activities and music lessons and the overseas trips, they all count for nothing?’

  ‘Be grateful for them, by all means, but it doesn’t mean you owe your mother and father for having provided them for you. And it definitely doesn’t mean you have to lead the life they’d like to lock you into. Parents, if they’ve actually been successful at parenting, should’ve instilled in their children the strength to choose their own paths.’

  ‘You’re calling me weak?’

  ‘I am not! But I think your grief and your worry for your mother has clouded your judgement.’

  He leaned towards her and her throat tightened. ‘You know what I think? I think this reasoning of yours is flawed, coloured by your experience with your own family.’

  She tried not to flinch.

  ‘Do you really think complete self-abnegation and self-sacrifice is a healthy example to give your kids? Do you want them to grow up thinking that finding a job they don’t like but that will pay the bills is the best they can hope for out of life?’

  Her jaw dropped.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re scared of, Quinn, by refusing to go to university. Maybe you’re afraid that you’ll turn into your parents.’

  She shot to her feet, shaking. ‘That will never happen.’

  He leapt up too. ‘Or maybe it’s the fact that some of what they said nine years ago was the truth.’

  ‘They said we’d ruin our lives. I don’t consider my life ruined.’ Regardless of what Phillip thought to the contrary.

  ‘But it’s been no bed of roses.’

  Her chin shot up. ‘Do you hear me complaining?’

  He stared at her for a long moment and then swore softly. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that.’

  She rubbed her nose. ‘I’m not going to apologise for what I said. I meant every word of it. And I think it needed to be said.’

  * * *

  Aidan tried to tamp down on the fear that rolled through him. This couldn’t be goodbye. It couldn’t!

  He shoved his shoulders back. Quinn was running scared and who could blame her? For pity’s sake, she was a single mother with more than one life to consider. And she’d met his mother.

&
nbsp; The world they’d been living in for the last...eight...nine days? It had been a strange, contained and intense time—time out of time was what she’d called it—but that didn’t make it any less real.

  Everything had changed.

  It occurred to him, with a wisdom he’d totally lacked these last few months, that a little time apart could be good for both of them. He needed to think. Hard.

  But he wasn’t letting her leave without extracting a promise that he could see her again. ‘Can I come see you and the boys once you’re settled?’

  He could see the refusal forming on her lips when Chase burst into the room. He flung his arms around his mother’s middle and beamed at Aidan. ‘We had fun with Holly last night. Can we stay another day? I love Adelaide!’

  Quinn chuckled, a rich warm sound he knew he’d miss. ‘I’m sure you do, but today we hit the road again, buster.’

  Chase pouted, but his heart wasn’t really in it. And then his face changed completely from fun and mischief to something sombre and glum. ‘Are you really not coming with us, Aidan?’

  Aidan swore that every muscle Quinn possessed tightened until she practically hummed with tension. Chase had just handed him the perfect tool to worm his way back into their car for the rest of the journey. A glance at Quinn told him it wouldn’t win him any Brownie points, though.

  He crouched down in front of Chase. ‘I’m afraid I have to get back to work, but I’ve had the best fun hanging out with you guys.’

  Chase’s bottom lip wobbled. Aidan whipped a business card from his wallet. ‘See that number there?’ He pointed. ‘How about you ring it this evening to tell me where you are and what you did for the day?’

  Chase’s eyes widened and he was all smiles again. ‘Okay!’

  Quinn smiled her thanks. A guarded thanks, admittedly, but at the moment he’d take any kind of smile from her that he could get.

  He rose to find Robbie surveying them from the doorway—scowling from the doorway. ‘Hey, buddy.’ How long had he been standing there, watching and listening?

  Robbie didn’t answer. Aidan had learned that Robbie, unlike his brother, wasn’t precisely a morning person, but he sensed this was more than a case of the just-out-of-bed grumps.

  Robbie glared at his mother.

  Aidan pushed his shoulders back. He wasn’t having Robbie blaming Quinn for this situation. ‘I’m really sorry to abandon ship on you guys, but I have to be back in Sydney today.’

  Robbie blinked and he looked so suddenly vulnerable an ache started up in Aidan’s chest. ‘I know, mate, I’m really going to miss you guys too.’

  When Robbie started to cry, he couldn’t help himself. He strode across, picked the young boy up and moved across to Quinn’s bed. A glance at Quinn and her too-shiny eyes told him she was close to tears too. Chase pressed his face into her side.

  ‘Boys aren’t supposed to cry, are they?’ Robbie eventually hiccupped, his storm over.

  ‘Of course they are.’ Aidan shifted, except... He glanced at Quinn. She wouldn’t like it if he told the boys otherwise.

  He glanced at each of the boys again. Darn it all! ‘Chase, come up here too and I’ll let you both in on a little secret.’

  Chase raced over and climbed up beside him. Quinn folded her arms. Her eyes narrowed.

  ‘It’s always okay to cry with your mum. She’s probably the absolute best person in the world to cry with. And I bet your Aunt Mara will be a good person to cry with too.’

  ‘She is,’ Robbie confided. ‘And so are you.’

  It was the strangest compliment he’d ever received, but a stupid smile spread across his face and his chest puffed out.

  Chase nudged him. ‘What’s the secret?’

  He sobered. ‘It’s not fair,’ he warned, ‘but life will be much easier if you don’t cry in front of your friends at school. It’s okay for girls, but not so much for boys.’

  Chase looked across to Robbie. ‘Is that true?’

  Robbie bit his lip. ‘I think it is, even though everyone says it’s not.’

  ‘Aidan!’

  Quinn stood with her hands on her hips and her eyes flashing.

  He lifted a shoulder. ‘Look, I know it’s not fair, but it’s true. And I want the boys to have an easy time of it at school.’

  Her lovely lips parted and a wave of desire washed over him. He gritted his teeth and searched for a way to soothe ruffled maternal feathers. ‘Boys, I think if someone should cry, though, that’s okay and that he shouldn’t be teased for it.’

  Robbie stared up at him.

  ‘So if that ever does happen—’ Aidan met Robbie’s gaze square on ‘—I don’t think you should join in the teasing. What’s more, I think you should stick up for him.’

  Robbie scratched his nose. ‘That could be hard sometimes,’ he finally ventured.

  ‘I know.’ Aidan pulled in a breath. ‘Doing the right thing often is.’

  And so, he was discovering, was parenting. It sure as heck wasn’t for the faint-hearted. It wasn’t all days at the beach and trips to the zoo. Which reminded him...

  He met Quinn’s gaze. He hadn’t used the opening Chase had given him earlier as leverage, but... Her eyes narrowed, as if sensing he was up to something. Man, she wouldn’t like this.

  But he wasn’t letting her go without a fight.

  ‘Robbie and Chase, remember how I said we should all go to Taronga Park Zoo in Sydney?’

  They both nodded vigorously.

  ‘How about we do exactly that this Saturday?’ It was Monday today. It’d give Quinn plenty of time to get to Pokolbin—she’d probably be there by Thursday.

  Both boys leapt off the bed to jump and cheer. Quinn gaped at them, and at him. ‘But...but we just spent a day at a zoo.’

  He rose with a grin. ‘Boys can never have too much of a zoo, Quinn.’

  She pointed a finger at him, her brows darkening. ‘You—’

  He caught her finger and brought it to his lips. The pulse at the base of her throat throbbed and a deep ravaging hunger shook him. He had to get out of here. ‘That evening is my parents’ anniversary party. Please say you’ll accompany me.’

  Her jaw dropped. She hauled it back in place and nibbled at her lip. ‘I...’

  ‘We’ll hire a couple of motel rooms in the city, just like we have here, and maybe we could do something on the Sunday before you have to head back to Pokolbin.’

  ‘Say yes, Mum,’ Robbie breathed.

  She tried to tug her hand free, but Aidan refused to release it until he had her answer. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. ‘You were very good with the boys just then.’

  He could be very good for her too, if she’d let him.

  As if she’d read that thought in his face, her cheeks flamed. Finally she nodded. ‘The zoo sounds like fun.’

  ‘The party will be too,’ he assured her. Maybe by then he’d have worked out which was the wiser course—to leave Quinn alone or to pursue her with everything he had.

  * * *

  ‘What do you mean, you don’t want a political career after all? You were the one who decided to step into Daniel’s shoes!’

  This was not going to be an easy conversation, but Quinn had been right—trying to live Danny’s life was never going to work. Not for anyone. Not in the long run.

  ‘I will not allow you to let him down like this!’ Every perfectly coiffed hair on his mother’s head rippled in outrage.

  ‘But it’s okay with you if I let myself down?’

  She stiffened. She stared and his heart ached and ached for her. He loved his mother. He loved both of his parents. He’d loved Danny too.

  And Quinn?

  He swallowed. Quinn understood him, she’d fought for him, she was strong and full of laughter and she’d made the sun shine in his miserable life again. He wasn’t sure what any of that meant.

  Maybe they were only ships in the night, but everything inside him rebelled at that thought.

  ‘Aidan!
’

  His mother’s words snapped him to. He pulled in a breath. First he had to fight for his life—for the life he wanted to lead. He wouldn’t deserve Quinn otherwise. ‘Dad asked me to take Danny’s place.’

  She sat, slowly, as if her bones hurt. ‘Why?’

  Her voice came out hoarse and he had to close his eyes for a moment. ‘He thought it would give you a reason to...to keep going.’

  Her eyes filled and his chest cramped. ‘And I agreed to do it because I love you both and I wanted to do whatever I could to make you feel better and to fill the void Danny had left behind. But I’m not Danny. I’m never going to be Danny. And nothing is ever going to fill that void.’

  ‘So on the strength of that you’re going to let Danny’s legacy die?’

  His head came up. ‘Danny’s legacy wasn’t his political career.’ He stared at her for a long moment and then said, ‘Do you know how long it’s been since I went surfing?’

  She waved an impatient hand. ‘Grow up, Aidan. We all put away childish things.’

  ‘Danny didn’t.’

  ‘Of course he did! He—’

  ‘He attended every single home game the Swans had last year,’ he said, naming one of the premier football teams in the country. ‘He had a box.’ Aidan found himself grinning. ‘He told you and Dad it was for networking and hobnobbing, but it was really because he loved his footy.’

  His mother gaped at him. He lowered himself down to the seat beside her. ‘Danny’s legacy wasn’t his career, Mum. It was his love of life and how he managed to instil that into everyone he came into contact with. It was his support of my surfing, Dad’s golf and your book club. Danny wouldn’t want you sitting inside four walls constantly grieving. He’d want you out and about, doing the things you love and sharing that love with others, just as he did.’

  She leapt up and wheeled away. ‘You think it’s easy to move on? You think a person—a mother—can do it just like that?’ She snapped her fingers.

  ‘I know it’s not easy.’ He rested his forehead against his palm and drew in a breath that made him shudder. If he continued to pursue Quinn it would cause his mother yet more grief. Could he really do that to her at the present time? ‘I realise I’m not your firstborn, and I know I’m not your favourite son, but—’