by Kiera Jayne
It was certainly quite the display.
“Is he happier now, Izzy?” Brooke asked the redhead.
“He is, Mum,” Izzy responded. “He desperately needed that nap.”
Flynn prickled at the way Izzy so easily called his mother by that term of endearment. He wasn’t able to bring himself to call Chris ‘Dad.’ Flynn already had a dad, and no matter how deadbeat he was, he had always tried his best. Ned Brewer may have been a drunk, but he never did anything bad to Flynn or his mother. He simply didn't do . . . anything . . . except fix cars and watch the racing channel all day. The drink killed him in the end. It was a year after Flynn reconnected with Perie, and he was so grateful she went to the funeral with him and comforted him in the best way possible.
“Hello, Flynn.” Izzy’s light voice wafted over to him.
“G’day, Iz.”
“Nice to see you. It's been a while.”
Flynn forced a smile. “So, it has. Congrats on the little fella.”
“Thank you. He's everything.”
As Isobel gazed down at her son, Perie was surprised when she teared up. She didn't want children—they got in the way of her busy career. But even her ovaries of steel softened at the sight of such overwhelming love this mother and son shared.
Isobel turned her attention back to Flynn and indicating his arms. “I see you got some new tattoos.”
He lifted his arms as he glanced down at the new ink. “Yeah, I did. Ink therapy is great.”
“Is that all you’re going to get?” she asked.
Flynn shrugged. “Dunno. I never say never.”
It was subtle, but there was certainly the slightest upturn of her nose. “Well, it certainly suits someone in your . . . line of work.”
“In my line of work?” Flynn repeated.
“You know,” she smirked, “a tradesman.”
“Right.” Flynn dragged the word out as far as it would go. He gritted his teeth as he rubbed the back of his neck.
Perie cleared her throat and hastily held out her offering for the night. “So, I bought some wine to share.”
Everyone paused.
Isobel sniggered. “You brought wine to a vineyard? A lot of thought went into that, huh?”
Perie deflated.
“It's the thought that counts,” Brooke told Perie with a smile that was too forced to feel natural.
“Sure,” Izzy said. “Even when there's not much thought gone into it at all, it still counts.”
Perie pushed down the need to punch the new mother hard. The only thing stopping her from doing so was the innocent baby in her arms. As she glared daggers at her, she felt Flynn squeeze her hand.
Chris pointed to the bottle. “That's Jacob’s Creek. It’s a good bottle of wine. Perhaps you should save it for a special occasion?”
Did the man think she was broke or poor? Perie ran a successful business and owned a house in one of Brisbane’s most exclusive suburbs. She could afford a bottle of wine twice the price of this. He didn't know her well enough to judge her!
Perie gritted her teeth as she looked at her best friend, and he gave his head the slightest shake. If he was forced to play nice, Perie was going to as well. In sync, the two of them each pulled out a chair and sunk into them. Perie hid the bottle of wine back in her bag and sulked.
“Have you heard from Megan lately?” Brooke asked Flynn as she took the chair between her son and Izzy at the end of the table.
Flynn relaxed slightly at the mention of his sister. “Not in a few weeks.”
“That's more than me. What's she up to? Where is she?”
“Last I heard, she was in Bali.” Flynn played with his long fingers.
A pained look crossed Brooke’s face. “I worry about her going to those places by herself. Your little sister is too brazen sometimes.”
“I think she's brave,” Perie said. “But she's not alone.”
“Has she met someone?” Brooke exclaimed.
Flynn nodded. “A guy from somewhere in the U.K.”
“Tell me about him!” An excited smile crossed Brooke’s perfectly aged features.
“Ah . . . from what I remember, he . . ..” He honestly didn’t remember much of what he’d been told.
“Oh, for goodness sake, Flynn!” Perie took over the details for him. “His name is Innes and he’s a big, red-headed Scottish bloke who’s been backpacking around Asia. They met in the fair-trade artisan store she runs there.”
“What is she doing?” Brooke exclaimed.
“She’s helping local women make some money from their wares,” Flynn explained. “Chinese knock-offs have flooded the market. Megan decided to help the locals sort of . . . fight back.”
Brooke’s mouth hung open.
“That sounds incredible,” Juliette gushed.
“I have to get in touch with her. I’d love to see what she’s doing up there.” Brooke fiddled with her gold bracelet. “Do you think she’d mind us visiting?”
Flynn shrugged. “Not sure.”
“Dinner is served,” Chris interrupted and set a dish of lobster tails in the centre of the table, beside the garden salad and bread rolls. “Courtesy of Sean and Juliette. They brought them home fresh from the Gold Coast this morning.”
“First catch of the day,” Sean added as everyone took their places.
There was silence as everyone got stuck into the meal.
“C’est magnifique,” Juliette hummed through her mouthful.
“Yes, these are simply delicious, Sean. Thank you.” Brooke placed a tail onto her plate and got stuck into it.
Sean glanced across from placing his little girl into her booster seat. “Not a problem.”
“So! Megan is in Indonesia, Sean is visiting from Paris, Isobel is about to move to London with Michael, and you two are stuck in Brisbane. When are you going to venture out and see the world?” Chris asked. “There’s a lot out there and a lot that would probably inspire your interior design, Perie.”
“Says the man that still lives in Granite Ridge,” Flynn mumbled.
“I’ve travelled a bit,” Perie interrupted.
Flynn pointed his fork at his friend. “She did six months of uni in Auckland.”
“And an internship in Melbourne.”
“Going to Auckland is like going to Sydney.” Izzy giggled as she handed baby Max to her husband, who placed the newborn in his pram. “They’re different, but not that different. You should come and visit us in London or Paris sometime, perhaps find some inspiration there.”
“You would be most welcome,” Michael said.
“My inspiration is fine, thank you. Just because I haven’t been far, doesn’t mean I don’t have a great imagination or ideas.” Perie could feel her herself become defensive and she didn’t want to be. But she felt the need to protect the reputation of her business—the business she’d spent so long building from the ground up before she’d even left university—against the likes of snotty Isobel. “I don’t have the time to travel. I have a business to run.”
“It sounds fantastique. Australian design has always been at the forefront on the world stage. I think it is cutting edge. Perie, you should be proud to be a successful businesswoman.”
“I am, thank you, Juilette.” Well, at least there was one decent person at this cookout aside from Brooke.
“I’m glad you’ve done so well for yourself, Perie. You too, Flynn. I’m incredibly proud of all of you. I only wish you'd call me more often, Flynn. You and Megan. I miss you both very much,” Brooke admitted.
“At least you've got us.” Isobel primly patted Brooke’s hand. “Your grandson and I will keep you good company for as long as we can.”
“He's not her grandson,” Flynn grumbled.
Perie silently warned him to keep his mouth shut.
Flynn railroaded her. “Megan and I aren't supposed to be replaceable. We’re her actual kids.”
“So are we!” Izzy exclaimed.
“No, you're Chris’ kid
s. Mum never even adopted you.” Flynn turned to his mother. “You want to know why Megan and I don't stay in contact? It's because we’ve never been good enough for this lot. Nothing’s changed since we were teenagers!”
“Hey, that's not true,” Sean broke in. “I've always gone out of my way for you, Flynn.”
“You might pretend to be a nice guy looking out for a mate, Sean. But whenever you’ve helped me in the past, it’s always been because you didn’t want me to sully your family’s reputation,” Flynn argued.
“Is that so wrong? You were trouble with a capital T when we were teenagers. I didn’t want you to drag the rest of us down with you.”
“Whatever happened to doing something for someone purely out of kindness with no benefit to yourself?” Flynn questioned.
Brooke reached over and patted her son’s hand. “Let’s forget about that and enjoy this lovely meal instead.”
“Listen to your mum, Flynn,” Perie chided.
Flynn closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Sorry.”
But Sean didn’t take the hint. “Let me understand what you’re saying, Flynn . . .. Because I wanted to protect my family from your destructive ways, you think I was selfish?”
“He wasn’t that bad,” Perie said.
“He was a moody dickhead who did drugs and was always rude to Mum,” Sean countered, indicating Brooke.
Perie scoffed, “He was a teenaged boy who smoked a bit of weed when his parents divorced. Everyone smoked weed, Sean! Even prissy Miss Izzy on Friday afternoons down behind the maintenance shed with Eddie McDonough.”
Isobel gasped. “That’s not true!”
Perie rolled her eyes. “It was so obvious, Izzy.”
Isobel pouted.
“I’ve known Flynn since the day we were born in that cold, old maternity ward at the Granite Ridge Base Hospital. I saw him go through that break-up, saw him and Megan have to fend for themselves since Ned was pretty much useless. I can’t count the amount of times they were at my place for dinner, nor the amount of times Flynn came to hang out because he didn’t feel comfortable in this household. He was moody, he was pissed off, and I’m sorry, Brooke, but he had every right to be.”
Brooke sniffed back some tears as she stared into her dinner.
“I think we’d better be going,” Flynn mumbled.
“I think you might be right.” Chris’ scowl was deep and disapproving. “We don’t need the likes of you in this house.”
Flynn bit down the cutting remark that threatened to slip from his mouth as he and Perie left the property.
PERIE APOLOGISED PROFUSELY FOR her tirade all the way back home, despite Flynn’s assurances that it was fine. As they made their way through the treacherous overgrowth of weed to the safer back stairs—using the torch lights on their phones as their only guide—Perie once again moaned, “I can’t believe I fucking did that! After wanting nothing more than to make your mum happy, I’m the one who went off. Flynn, I’m sorry.”
“Jeez, Perie, enough! I said it was fine.”
“But it’s not fine. I was such a bitch!” She trumped up the stairs behind him.
“No, you weren’t. You showed that sack of shit just what a pussy he really is. I was proud of you.”
“Sean’s not that bad, he’s just . . ..”
“A pussy,” Flynn repeated. They stepped inside and he switched the overhead light on. Good, it worked.
“I upset your mum.”
Flynn turned to his friend at the sound of the sadness in her voice. He cupped her fallen face in his hands and made her meet his gaze. “My mum made her choices a long time ago. She has to stop expecting everything to be happy as Larry, because they’re not. She abandoned me and Megan, Per, for a perfect, shiny family who lived in a perfect, shiny world that people like you and me will never be privileged enough to experience.”
“I refuse to believe that. Have you seen my Paddington house? And one day, I will find the time to get to Europe.”
He could imagine Perie practically stomping her foot in defiance. “Will you take a broke old builder along with you?”
“You’re not broke,” Perie told him.
“Not since you came to my rescue,” Flynn responded.
Perie giggled as she set her bag on the old kitchen bench and pulled out the bottle of wine. “Well then, you old codger, will you join me for a glass of French champagne?”
Flynn frowned. “Isn’t that a bottle of Jacob’s Creek Chardonnay?”
Perie slumped her shoulders. “Roll with me here, will ya? It’s going to have to do until we get to Paris one day, old man. Preferably before your heart gives in.”
With a laugh, Flynn jabbed his finger at her. “Promise me we won’t stay with Sean the pussy.”
“I do solemnly vow.” Perie rested her hand over her heart. She cracked open the lid on the wine and took a long drink from it before offering it to Flynn. He slowly took it from her grasp and drank some. Perie pressed her body against his. She hooked her arms around Flynn’s shoulders and began to sway with him. “And just so you know . . . I love your tattoos.”
Flynn groaned when Perie nibbled his neck and she felt his cock jerk in his pants. His hands fell to the swell of her arse. “Are we really doing this?”
Perie gulped at the husky tone of his voice and how it turned her on. “We are.”
“You’re sure you don’t want to save this for a special occasion?” He drank from the wine again.
“Positive.” Perie took another swig and set the bottle on the counter.
Flynn’s eyes glinted with desire. “Not even twenty-four hours, hotness, and here we are . . . you and me . . . wanting each other.”
“It’s the wine,” Perie murmured.
“I’m sure it is,” Flynn agreed as their lips fell upon each other.
***
When Perie slowly came to the next morning, she realised she was curled up tight inside her swag and Flynn’s arms, and she was one hundred percent naked. Sex with Flynn was becoming a much more common occurrence. It had begun to stretch beyond the odd, casual hook-up and turned into an any-excuse-is-a-good-excuse type of thing, and she wasn't sure what that meant.
She lifted herself up onto her elbows and Flynn groaned, “Don't get up, yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because I like it in here.” Flynn tightened his arms around her waist, pulled her back down, and kissed her shoulder. “I like snuggling with you.”
Perie’s eyebrows drew together. “Since when?”
“What do you mean?” Flynn sounded offended by her question.
“You don't usually like to snuggle after we have sex,” Perie said.
“Maybe I'm going soft in my old age.”
Perie snorted out a wry laugh. “Right. The ripe old age of twenty-five.”
“I've hit the mid-twenties mark. It's serious business,” Flynn confirmed to the accompaniment of Perie’s laughter. “No, but in all seriousness . . . the way you stood up for me last night was epic, Per. I appreciate it.”
“You appreciate it so much that you're snuggling with me in your senior years?” Perie teased.
“Yes, I am.”
“Well, I appreciate that.” She stared into his bright blue eyes.
The tip of Flynn’s nose brushed against hers as he muttered, “Do you?”
“Uh-huh,” Perie squeaked as a lump formed in her throat.
The way he looked at her, the way he leaned towards her . . . it made her crave him again. Exhibit A for more and more frequent Perie/Flynn sexual encounters.
A loud motor echoed in from outside, interrupting the moment.
Flynn lifted his head with a frown. “What the hell is that?”
“Sounds like the mower man. Upsy-daisy, Flynn.” Perie pushed him out of the way and crawled out of the swag. She went to her suitcase and pulled out a pair of jeans, underwear, and a purple camisole top with Peruvian beading on the front. “Pop the kettle on while I'm in the shower, will you?”
Flynn silently watched her leave the room.
***
Perie ran her fingers through her brunette hair as she joined Flynn out on the front verandah, a cup of coffee in her hand. “Thanks for being a gentleman and making me a cuppa,” she teased. The deep scowl on his face made her pause. “What’s wrong?”
“Did you see the mower man?” Flynn asked.
“No, why?”
“Take a look at who it is.” He jerked his chin towards the tall, dark mountain of a man who was now zooming around the yard on an old ride-on mower. The way the mower man’s arm muscles flexed as he worked the gears got Perie hot under the collar as she remembered what it had felt like to be hugged by them the day before. “Vaughn bloody Forester. Last I heard, he was serving overseas in the army,” Flynn muttered as he stared down at Vaughn.
“He was in the army?”
Flynn nodded. “Apparently, he was stationed in Afghanistan.”
Now Perie understood the sadness she saw reflected in Vaughn’s eyes. He must have seen some awful things. “He didn’t say,” she whispered.
Flynn turned to her. “You knew he was back?”
Perie nodded. “I hired him yesterday at the mower shop. He actually offered to do this.”
“You knowingly hired him? After everything that . . ..” Flynn gritted his teeth as anger seared through him. “After everything that happened, Perie, why would you do that?”
“Because we’re adults now. That’s behind us.”
“I lost you for four years because of what happened between us.”
“That’s not going to happen this time.”
Flynn wasn’t so sure, and it must’ve shown on his face, because Perie nudged him. “I promise, nothing can come between us anymore. We’re stuck with each other, Flynn.”
Flynn pulled her into a quick, rough hug. He sang a few bars of Never Tear Us Apart by INXS, causing Perie to roll her eyes.
“You’re definitely no Michael Hutchence,” she teased.
“Hell no, I’m way sexier.” Flynn’s mouth quirked up into a cocky half-smile.
“You wish.”
