She couldn’t speak, she just nodded her head, before another strangled sob burst forth.
‘Honey,’ he soothed. ‘What’s the matter?’
She tried to laugh it off, but her throat went into spasms, releasing more sobs. This was really embarrassing. But he just drew her closer, pressing his lips to her forehead and holding her tight. Jo took deep breaths, consciously calming herself, regaining control. There was nothing to be so . . . emotional about. Eventually she felt herself relax into him. This was nice, lying so close like this, skin to skin. She’d dreamed it often enough, but in her imagination she couldn’t hear the rhythm of his heart beating, feel the rise and fall of his chest, smell the muskiness of his skin. She’d forgotten how good a man could smell when he wasn’t doused in expensive cologne.
‘You okay?’
She felt the reverberation in his chest as he spoke. ‘Uhuh.’
He shifted, turning onto his side, bringing himself level with her face. ‘I want to tell you something, Jo, but I don’t want to freak you out.’
Her heart revved warily. ‘What is it?’ she frowned.
Joe smiled at her, bringing one hand up to cup her face. ‘It’s nothing bad. I’m just not sure how you’re going to take it.’ He paused, gazing intently at her. ‘So I’ll just say it, okay? I think I may have fallen in love with you. In fact I think I have . . . I know I have.’
‘Oh.’ Jo breathed, her heart thumping in her chest.
‘You don’t have to say anything back,’ he said. ‘I just wanted you to know.’ He kissed her tenderly and then nuzzled his face into her neck, wrapping his arms and legs around her so she felt cocooned almost. Jo lay there, stroking her fingers through his hair. So he was in love with her. She waited for the cynic in her to come to the surface, but nothing happened. And she didn’t feel like reasoning her way out of it either. Whatever this was, it was pretty wonderful.
Joe lifted his head to look at her. ‘What are you thinking about?’
She gave him a coy smile. ‘Nothing.’
‘Oh yes you are,’ he said, propping himself on one elbow.
‘I was just trying to come up with a word . . .’
‘A word for what?’
‘For this, us being together . . .’
‘That’s easy, perfect.’
She giggled lazily. ‘No, I mean . . . physically . . . the sex . . . how would you describe it?’
‘Perfect still works for me.’ He shifted so he was above her. ‘Perfect,’ he said, kissing her, ‘and passionate,’ he said with another kiss, ‘and . . .’
‘Fervent?’ she suggested.
‘Okay, a little religious maybe . . . how about erotic?’
‘A little obvious . . . I’m thinking more . . . euphoric . . .’
‘Exhilarating.’
‘Electrifying,’ she grinned.
He paused, gazing down at her. ‘How about “long time coming”?’
She made a tiny ‘mm’ noise in her throat.
‘How about . . . best ever?’ he said in a low voice.
She nodded faintly as he bent to give her a soft kiss, his lips lingering gently against hers.
‘Joe,’ she breathed.
‘Hmm.’
‘I think . . . I know . . . well, maybe I’ve fallen in love with you too.’
He drew back to look at her, his heart full. ‘Okay then.’
He kissed her forehead, her cheek and then he closed his mouth over hers, and they kissed passionately, and made love again, fervently, euphorically and long into the night. And as Jo fell asleep in his arms, she felt safe. She dreamed they were in the elevator again, and no one knew where they were, and no one could get to them.
Morning
Joe drifted into consciousness, slowly surfacing from a deep sleep. He opened his eyes. He was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. But it wasn’t his ceiling. It was Jo’s ceiling. He smiled, remembering, as he turned to look at her.
But she wasn’t there.
‘Jo?’ He sat up, rubbing his face. ‘Jo, are you in the bathroom?’
No answer. He swung his legs off the side of the bed, leaning down to grab his pants off the floor. He pulled them on, standing up and walking over to the bathroom door. ‘Jo?’ he said, pushing back the door. The room was empty.
He walked out into the living room. ‘Jo?’
No answer. The place was empty. She’d fled the scene.
But that was ridiculous. This was her apartment.
Jo was walking briskly up the street when her phone rang. It would be Joe, it had to be Joe. She was hoping she’d be further away by the time he discovered she was gone. She’d been lying there this morning, for how long she didn’t know, wondering how she should handle this. She hadn’t woken up with someone for such a long time, which was freaky enough, but what the hell happened last night? He said he loved her and she said maybe she did too. She did only say ‘maybe’, didn’t she? But why did she say anything at all? He’d have all sorts of expectations now.
Initially she’d thought of hiding. But there was nowhere to hide in a one-bedroom apartment. So she decided to flee. She went on automatic pilot, grabbing clothes, shoes, and slipping quietly out of the room. She quickly dressed out in the living area, leaving the apartment in a matter of minutes. She’d just started up the street when her phone rang. Maybe he’d heard her. She glanced at the screen. It was Joe. Of course it was Joe.
‘Hi,’ she said.
‘Where are you?’ She could hear the pique in his voice.
‘Oh sorry, I had to go, I have an appointment.’
‘Bullshit. Don’t lie to me, Jo. At least don’t lie to me.’
She was silent.
‘Where are you?’ he repeated.
She cleared her throat. ‘Um . . . up the road.’
‘Are you heading north or south?’
‘I . . . I don’t know.’
‘Are you near the café on the corner?’
‘Yes.’
‘Okay, get us a table and order me a long black. I’ll be there in a minute.’
‘Joe –’ but he’d already hung up. She shoved the phone back in her pocket and stood there, considering her options. She could make a run for it. No, that was stupid. What was wrong with her? She was hopeless at this, that was the problem, that’s what she had to tell him. It wasn’t going to work, because . . . well, there was a whole raft of reasons. And she had a much better chance of explaining them sitting in a café with lots of people around than waking up next to him naked. They would be able to talk rationally, without being distracted by the nakedness . . . and the proximity . . . Jo was getting a little flushed just thinking about that.
She took a couple of deep, calming breaths as she walked the last few metres to the café. Outside was better. Definitely. Noisier, less private . . . which in a weird kind of way made it more private. She took a seat at a small table on the periphery and a waiter immediately approached to take her order. When he had left again, she looked up and saw Joe striding up the street towards her, in his suit trousers and white shirt, open at the neck and untucked. He’d dressed in a hurry, obviously. His expression was on the grim side, if she had to describe it. She supposed he had no reason to smile happily and wave at her. He should have, that would be the normal response after spending a night with someone. As long as the someone hadn’t sneaked out of the apartment while you were sleeping.
He dropped heavily into the chair opposite her.
‘What the hell, Jo?’ he began. ‘What the hell?’
Nothing like getting straight to the point.
‘You’re angry.’
‘Are you surprised?’ he exclaimed. ‘You walked out on me. Out of your own apartment. That’s weird, Jo.’
It was weird. She knew it. But she’d panicked. He should know better than anyone that she was a panicker. ‘I’m not used to waking up with someone.’
‘Well you better start getting used to it.’
She blinked at him.<
br />
‘Are you going to pretend you don’t remember what we said to each other last night?’ he demanded.
‘No,’ she said in a faint voice.
They were interrupted by the arrival of the waiter with their coffees, which he set down on the table in front of them. It was a wonder the poor man could wade through the tension it was so thick.
‘So what is it?’ Joe resumed when they were alone again. ‘Are you going to tell me you didn’t mean it? That you were drunk –’
‘I wasn’t drunk.’
‘Then what? You’ve changed your mind? You want to take it back?’
‘No . . . it’s . . . it’s just . . .’
‘What?’ he snapped.
Jo swallowed. ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea.’
He looked at her. ‘You don’t think what’s a good idea?’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘No, I don’t have any fucking idea what you mean.’
Okay, he was obviously very agitated, so Jo had to be the one to stay calm. ‘I mean . . . this, you and me, it’s not going to work.’
‘Why not?’
‘Lots of reasons.’
He paused, watching her. ‘Well, go ahead. I’m listening.’
She groaned. ‘Joe –’
‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘I mean it, Jo. You’re not going to get away with that, a vague “it’s not going to work”. Not after last night. We’re going to have this out.’
‘Well, you see, there’s one straight up,’ she said. ‘We’re always arguing. We fight all the time.’
‘No we don’t.’
‘Yes we do.’
‘I disagree.’
She sighed, noticing the glint in his eye. ‘You’re not taking me seriously.’
‘I am,’ he maintained. ‘But I think arguing is normal, I grew up with it, my parents argued all the time,’ he said. ‘You see, Jo, people can have an argument –’ His voice dropped a little, ‘– and they don’t have to get violent, and they don’t have to walk out on each other, and everything doesn’t have to fall apart.’
She was listening, her heart pounding.
‘So,’ he said, ‘you’re going to have to come up with something better than that. What else have you got?’
Jo took a sip of her coffee and set it back in the saucer. ‘We work together,’ she said finally.
‘So? You work with Lachlan.’
‘But we’re not having a relationship, as such.’
‘Oh,’ he nodded. ‘So there’s a difference between having a relationship and just having relations?’
‘Don’t be cute.’
‘I’m not trying to be cute,’ said Joe. ‘I’m trying to work out the coordinates on your moral compass here. Sex with a co-worker is fine if he’s married –’
‘Joe . . .’
‘Well, it’s true, isn’t it? You’ve had no problem carrying on an affair with a married man you work with. It won’t lead to anything, you can keep it hidden, or pretend to, because everybody knows. But try having an open, honest, real relationship with someone you work with, and well, that’s just fraught with problems, isn’t it? There’s no easy escape route when the going gets tough.’
‘Now you’re just being mean.’
‘Because I’m pissed off, Jo, that after last night you wouldn’t at least give me the benefit of the doubt, talk to me, tell me what’s bothering you, instead of walking out like that.’ He paused, leaning forward on the table. ‘You see, I think if you love someone, you don’t walk out, and it doesn’t matter if you work together, if you live in different cities, different sides of the world . . .’
‘But you left Sarah.’
‘Because I didn’t love Sarah.’
‘And one day you won’t love me.’
His expression softened. ‘Is that what you think?’
‘That’s what I know.’
‘You don’t know that for sure.’
‘You don’t know for sure that you will.’
‘Yes I do.’
She sighed. ‘Joe, you don’t know how you’re going to feel about me in a few weeks, let alone a few years. You don’t even know me.’
‘Oh I know you, Jo Liddell, maybe even better than you know yourself,’ he said, sitting back in his chair and stretching his legs out in front of him.
‘Oh, do you?’ she raised an eyebrow. ‘Please, share your insight.’
‘Okay, for example, ever since I met you, you’ve insisted that you’re punctual, but you’re hardly ever on time; and you like to put across that you’re highly organised, but you’re all over the place. Don’t get me wrong, you get the job done, in fact you excel, but that’s despite, not because of, your organisational skills. And you give off this whole thing of being in control, but one slight tip off centre and you freak out or run away. You’re a bundle of contradictions. You’re not claustrophobic, you just panic in enclosed spaces. You’re full of all this outward bravado, but you’re too afraid to go off and see the world, or even fall in love . . .’
Jo felt a twisting sensation in her chest. She crossed her arms in front of herself. ‘Well, I could give you a few home truths too, you know, Joe Bannister.’
‘Go right ahead.’
She thought about it. ‘You told me once that you’re not usually a judgemental person, but you are the most judgemental person I’ve ever met. And when things don’t go your way, you throw tantrums.’
‘I don’t throw tantrums,’ he scoffed.
‘You do so,’ Jo insisted. ‘You get all huffy and self-righteous . . . you do it all the time. And you’re a hopeless communicator. You couldn’t even pick up the phone for a whole week while you were away, how do you think that made me feel?’
A smile was forming on his lips.
‘And you’re too tall for me,’ she finished.
‘But you love me anyway.’
Her eyes flew up to meet his, gazing steadily back at her.
‘And you’re smug,’ she added.
‘And you’re beautiful.’
‘Don’t try and flatter your way out of this.’
‘I don’t flatter,’ he said, leaning forward again. ‘Jo, all those things I said before, I love you despite them, or actually because of them. You’re trying all the time to be something you’re not, because you don’t realise how wonderful you are. But I do. That’s why you should be with me.’
Her heart was racing. ‘You’re so sure of yourself,’ she said in a small voice.
‘Yes I am.’ He dragged his chair around the table closer to her, so they were facing. ‘Because I’ve looked for a long time, Jo,’ he said, taking her hand in his. ‘All over the world, in fact. And I’ve finally met the person I can actually picture spending the rest of my life with.’
She snatched her hand away. ‘That’s crazy talk.’
‘No,’ he shook his head, ‘it’s not crazy, I just have to find a way to convince you, because I want to get on with the rest of my life.’
Her eyes were wide, staring at him, as he brought his hands up to her face and kissed her with so much tenderness that Jo was a little overcome as he drew back to look at her.
‘What are you thinking?’ he asked her.
‘I don’t know. I don’t know if I can keep up.’
‘Well, I’m not going anywhere,’ he said, taking both her hands in his. ‘We don’t have to rush this, Jo. We can take it as slow as you like. You know, aside from all my faults, I’m a very patient man.’
She smiled shyly then.
‘So what do you say?’ he asked gently. ‘You want to stop all this mucking around and get on with it?’
She paused for a moment, looking into his eyes, those lovely blue eyes, and she knew that’s exactly what she wanted to do. ‘Okay,’ she breathed.
‘Okay?’ he said. ‘You’re saying okay?’
She smiled. ‘I’m saying okay.’
He glanced around. ‘Do you think if I jumped up on this chair and yelled, “She said oka
y!” that would draw attention?’
‘I think if you chucked a Tom Cruise in the middle of a busy city street I might run away again.’
‘No, uh-uh,’ he said, drawing her hands close and kissing them. ‘No more running away. Okay?’
She nodded. ‘Okay.’
‘There is one thing,’ he said, sitting back a little, though not releasing her hands. ‘I don’t want to tell you what to do, Jo, and I won’t ever try to run your life, I promise you that. I only want to be part of it. But I need you to do something for me.’
She held her breath, waiting.
‘I need you to finish it with Lachlan.’
Jo breathed out. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘But I’m doing that for me.’
‘Well, that’s good, but I need you to do it before we go any further,’ said Joe. ‘I can’t be with you again until I know it’s over with him. Really over.’ He paused. ‘I’m not judging you, Jo, I just can’t bear to think of you with him. That’s all it’s ever been, you know.’
She nodded faintly.
‘Okay,’ he said. He leaned forward and kissed her again, a nice, soft, lingering kiss. Then he stood up, taking out his wallet and leaving a ten-dollar note on the table.
‘You’re leaving?’
He looked at her. ‘I want to start fresh, Jo. I don’t want anything, or anyone, coming between us ever again.’
‘He won’t,’ Jo assured him. ‘I’m going to break it off.’
‘So, give me a call when it’s done, and we’ll take it from there.’
‘It’s Sunday,’ she said. ‘I’m not sure I’ll be able to get on to him today.’
‘That’s okay,’ said Joe. ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ he smiled reassuringly. ‘Talk to you soon, I hope.’
She nodded. ‘You will.’
Jo went back to her apartment in a daze. After she let herself in, she stood leaning against the back of the door, gazing around the room. She was alone. That had never bothered her before, barely even occurred to her. But now she felt alone without Joe.
She walked across to her bedroom and stared at the bed, thinking about last night, and her heart beat a little faster. She noticed Joe’s jacket on the floor and she walked over and picked it up as she sat down on the bed. She held it up by the shoulders, and folded it in half down the back seam, holding it against her as she smoothed it out. Then she buried her face in the lapel. It smelled of him. She dropped back to lie on the bed, hugging the jacket to her as tears welled in her eyes. But she wasn’t sad. This was something else. It was exhilarating, and exciting, and a little frightening, she had to admit, but she didn’t want it to stop. Ever.
Crossing Paths Page 35
