by Amy Andrews
‘At the coast with his grandparents.’
‘Of course. I forgot.’ She nodded again, holding his troubled gaze. ‘Come in. I’ll make us a cup of tea,’ she said quietly, opening the door further and standing aside.
He followed her through to the kitchen, watching her wordlessly from the doorway as she padded around in her bare feet. She flicked on the kettle, took some mugs out of an overhead cupboard, placed teabags in the cups, spooned sugar into them.
She was wearing a white singlet with shoestring straps that didn’t quite meet the waistband of her long striped cotton pyjama bottoms. He could see her belly button and her untethered breasts bounce with each movement. ‘I owe you an apology. I didn’t mean it about not seeing Tom again.’
Hailey gripped the kitchen counter. ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘You were right. I overreacted.’
He pushed away from the doorway and moved to stand on the other side of the bench. ‘And I knew where that was coming from. I know how much Eric’s death affected you. I was just…a little…thrown.’
Hailey didn’t want him to apoligise. She’d spent the last day castigating herself for yesterday’s debacle. She’d alarmed Callum unnecessarily. Callum, who lived every day under the cloud of Tom’s possible relapse. And she’d made a fool of herself in front of Rilla and Luca, not to mention setting her confidence back months.
After Eric she had doubted her skills, her ability, her clinical judgement—had even contemplated giving up nursing altogether. But her family had convinced her to work on 2B and slowly her faith had been restored.
Until yesterday.
The kettle boiled and then switched itself off, and she poured their tea automatically. She picked both mugs up and carried them through to the lounge, conscious of Callum’s gaze on her back. She placed them on the coffee-table and took a seat.
Callum was too restless to sit. He didn’t know why he’d come. What he was doing there. He’d just known he’d had to come. He prowled around the room, commenting on the view over the Brisbane River, touching her books, picking up the trophy she’d won at sports day when she’d been nine, admiring her CD collection.
He turned to her and shrugged. ‘I don’t know why I’m here.’
Hailey sipped her tea. ‘It’s OK.’ She supposed it’d become clear to him sooner or later. All she knew was she was glad.
He picked up some framed photos, snapshots of her childhood, but he didn’t appear to really be taking them in. Not until he picked up the last one, anyway.
‘You put it in a frame?’ Callum turned round and held out the photo he’d discovered forgotten in the pages of her book.
Hailey paused, the mug of tea halfway to her mouth. She nodded. Her gaze took in the photo again. Took in the happy faces of the people who all seemed like strangers to her now. Back when no dark clouds had hung on her horizon and life had been bright and breezy.
She put the mug down without taking a sip. ‘Yes.’
Callum stared into the smiling faces, none of them aware of the whammy that had lurked round the corner. He remembered those years when he and Tom had been indomitable. ‘He looks like a nice kid.’
She swallowed. ‘He was.’ It still hurt to use the past tense.
‘They look happy. You all look happy.’ Paul looked as if he’d won the lotto. The look of a man secure in his life and sure of his world. Callum had a picture of Annie and himself and Tom as a baby just before Annie’s diagnosis. They’d both looked like that. So…so damn cocky.
Hailey shut her eyes, a lump lodging in her throat. ‘They were. We were.’
Callum looked at her. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…’
She opened her eyes and looked at him. ‘It’s OK.’
She watched him replace the frame gently, reverently. He pushed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and rocked on his heels.
There was more silence while he rocked and she slowly sipped her tea. She couldn’t explain it but there was a strange tension between them tonight. A vibe. He obviously didn’t know what was going on inside him and she could sense his confusion. Heaven knew, she felt just as uncertain.
Yesterday’s incident had shifted the dynamic between them. It should have damaged them but somehow, with him here in front of her, it seemed it had done the opposite. It didn’t feel as if he was there to blame her. It felt like he was there to connect with her. Even if he wasn’t sure why.
‘This is the first night I’ve spent away from Tom since he was born.’
Hailey let the statement settle for a while between them. ‘That must be weird for you.’
He stalked over to where she had placed his mug and picked it up. ‘Yes.’ He brought the hot drink to his lips and took a sip. He looked into the murky depths of the tea, the weight of her gaze heavy on his skin. It tasted so…bland.
He looked up at her. ‘I’m sorry, do you have something…stronger.’
Hailey blinked. This was serious. ‘I have some beer left over from when Gabe and Beth last came over for tea.’
‘Beer would be great.’ Callum breathed a sigh of relief.
Hailey rose. She retrieved a long-necked beer from the fridge, cracked the lid and was acutely aware of the frostiness against her fingers as she passed it wordlessly to Callum.
‘Thanks,’ he said, taking a long drag. The bitter taste swirled around his tongue and he felt the muscles in his shoulders relax a notch. He took another mouthful as he thought about words he could use to make sense of his intrusion.
‘I’ve been thinking a lot since yesterday.’
‘I panicked.’
He ignored her, running his finger over the frosty beer label. ‘I picked up the phone a hundred times to call you.’
‘You didn’t have to.’
‘Yes, I did. I shut you out.’
She shrugged. ‘I overreacted. I scared you.’
He gave her a half-smile. Yes, she had. ‘I think you scared yourself more.’
Hailey shivered, remembering the moment of blind panic, the crippling sense of déjà vu. ‘I should have used my eyes, my…skills instead of allowing something from my past override my common sense.’
‘Eric’s death wasn’t your fault, Hailey.’
‘I know.’
Callum came round the coffee-table and sat down on the edge, facing her. ‘Do you? Really?’
She looked into his grey eyes, so close now. His knees were centimetres from hers. ‘Yes, really. On an intellectual level, yes.’
‘And on an emotional level?’
Hailey sighed. Boy, did he know how to ask the right questions. ‘Emotionally, things aren’t so clear cut.’
Callum nodded and took another swig of his beer. ‘Ain’t that the truth.’
Hailey looked at him sharply. ‘You blame yourself for Tom?’
‘No.’ Callum gave a decisive shake of his head. ‘I was onto that very quickly.’
Then that only left…‘Annie?’
Callum looked away from her probing gaze. He rolled the beer bottle against his forehead. ‘You’re not going to tell me not to blame myself? That there was nothing I could have done?’
‘I think you know that,’ she said gently.
He glared at her. ‘I’m a doctor, damn it. I save people’s lives. That’s what I do. And yet I couldn’t even help my own wife.’
‘I know.’
‘She wouldn’t let me help her. She was so determined to do it herself.’
‘I know,’ Hailey murmured again, because there wasn’t anything else she could say.
Callum rubbed his hand over his hair. ‘Annie’s parents blame me.’
‘Oh, Callum, I don’t think—’
‘They do. They don’t say it but I know they feel that way. I know they think I should have been onto it sooner.’
Hailey nodded, the denial dying on her lips. Paul had never said it either but she had known. ‘They need someone to be mad at.’
‘Yes.’ Callum threw his head back and finished the beer in a few
deep swallows. He looked at her and smiled. ‘Fine couple we make.’
She gave a half-laugh. ‘Yes.’ The smiled faded. He was looking at her intensely, his gaze on her mouth. Her pulse stuttered to a halt for a brief second before resuming in triple time. Their moment on the balcony seemed an age ago now but when he looked at her like that, it was as if it had been yesterday.
She picked up his empty beer bottle, pleased to be doing something, breaking the eye contact. She headed into the kitchen, desperate for space. She discarded the empty in the bin under the sink and almost jumped when she realised he’d followed her.
Callum stood in the doorway, suddenly clear about why he’d come tonight. He wanted her. He had since the ball and he didn’t want to pretend he didn’t any more. ‘I want to make love to you.’
Hailey’s pulse roared in her head as his husky words stroked across her abdomen like trailing fingers. She held on tight to the bench, not trusting herself when her head was saying no but her body was saying game on.
She wanted to make love to him too. In fact, she couldn’t remember a time when she’d ever wanted something so much. But without analysing them too deeply, she knew her feelings ran much deeper than sex, and she wasn’t sure she could play with that kind of fire. She was still sporting scars from the last time. And Callum was vulnerable tonight. After what had happened yesterday, they both were.
Not a good idea.
Hailey swallowed. ‘No, you don’t. Tom is away and you had a dream about Annie and you don’t want to be alone tonight.’
Callum pushed away from the doorframe and walked towards her. ‘No, you’re wrong. This is nothing to do with Annie or Tom and everything to do with the attraction that we’ve been ignoring too long. I know we said we shouldn’t do this but I can’t pretend any more. I see you at work and I want you. I see you in the lift here or lying by the pool and I want you. Even yesterday, when you gave me such a fright, I wanted you. I can’t deny it any more.’
Hailey closed her eyes, shutting out his progress towards her, willing him back. Back to the doorway. To the lounge room. To the other side of her front door. To his house. To Melbourne.
‘Hailey.’
His voice was near and she opened her eyes to find him standing before her. He was so far up, towering over her. She wished the distance was greater but at the same time her fingers tingled to pull him closer.
‘Callum.’
He heard the note of pleading in her voice. But was it beseeching him to stop or was it asking him not to? ‘You know you want this,’ he said huskily, gently cupping the side of her face in his hand, tracing his thumb over the contour of her bottom lip.
Hailey sighed, turning her face into his palm. She inhaled his smell and dropped a kiss there. She looked at him. ‘We’re not teenagers, Callum. Sometimes what we want isn’t good for us, sometimes—’
Callum swooped his head down, cutting her off with his mouth. He felt her shock in the momentary paralysis of her lips before a moan escaped from the back of her throat and she relaxed against him, her mouth moving on his.
‘Sometimes,’ he murmured, pulling away slightly, her lips moist from his, ‘it is.’
‘But—’
He placed a finger across her lips, his forehead resting against hers. ‘Nothing’s felt this right in a long time, Hailey.’
She shivered at the catch in his voice, the stroke of his finger against her mouth, the proximity of his lips still only millimetres from hers.
‘I know you feel it too,’ he murmured.
The intensity of his gaze focusing on her mouth was captivating.
‘I think I’m falling for you,’ he whispered. He removed his finger and brushed his lips across hers. ‘I think I’m falling bad.’
Hailey could barely breathe. His words were mesmerising, his mouth entrancing, his nearness intoxicating. ‘Callum,’ she croaked.
He kissed her then. Properly. His hands cradled her face and he opened her mouth with the sheer force of his own. His pulse tripped and his breath came in tortured gasps. Hers sounded just as rough, just as wild, and he revelled in her tenuous control as she moaned deep in the back of her throat and yanked him closer by his lapels.
He didn’t know what was going to happen after this. What the morning would hold or any of the days after. All he knew was now. Holding her, kissing her, making love with her. This had been their destiny since that very chaste kiss on the balcony. And nothing else mattered.
He straightened, pulling her up with him, lifting her off the floor, grasping her bottom and placing her up on the kitchen bench without pausing for breath. Now they were face to face. He parted her legs, pushing himself between them, planting himself firmly at the juncture of her thighs, her knees cradling his hips.
He broke away, his breath almost painful in his chest. ‘You’re beautiful,’ he said, stroking her hair back from her face, touching her lips, which were swollen from his ministrations.
Hailey ran her tongue along the pads of his fingers. ‘So are you.’ And she reached for him, pulling his head down, her lips seeking the heat of his, the feel of his, the taste of his. He tasted like beer and man and she moaned at the richness of it.
She felt his hands tighten on her buttocks and he slid her forward, forcing her thighs wider, causing her to lock her legs around his hips. The rough cotton of his clothes, the bulk of his zip and what lay beneath it pressed against her centre and she clung to him as he rubbed against her.
Her breasts were squashed against his chest. The heat between her legs where his erection taunted her was unbearable. She wondered if it was possible to enmesh herself with him, truly become one, through sheer force of will. She felt hot, burning up all over, and still, like a moth, she wanted to be closer to his burning white flame.
She slid her hands down his back, her hands finding his buttocks. They felt round and firm in her grasp and she squeezed, bringing him closer still. He thrust against her and it was sweet, erotic torture.
Her hands crept under his shirt and roamed the contours of his back. His skin was hot and very, very male, and she wanted to see his chest again. To explore it with no fear of interruption. To press her own nakedness against his, feel his heat on her breasts.
She pulled away, her breathing ragged. ‘I want to see you,’ she told him, her fingers fumbling with his buttons.
Callum groaned as her nails grazed his chest. He claimed her mouth again, plundering her sweetness. Her fingers brushed his stomach and he wanted to tear his shirt off. His lips grew bolder, wanting to have more of her. They devoured the arch of her neck, licking the pulse that beat frantically at the base. They nibbled along the length of her shoulder, moving the singlet strap out of the way with his teeth.
Hailey gave a frustrated growl as the last button eluded her. Callum gnawed at her neck and she pulled at the two sides of his shirt abruptly, ripping them apart. The button popped. She vaguely heard the noise of it landing on the tiles somewhere behind them.
She gave him a triumphant grin and pushed his shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. It was better than she remembered. Smoother, browner, wider. More sculpted, more defined. She pressed a kiss to the smooth, flat perfection of a pectoral muscle and felt the skin twitch under her lips.
She placed her hand where her mouth had been, her gaze going lower, following the intriguing narrow line of hair that bisected his abs and trailed behind the waistband of his jeans. She let her hand follow the journey her eyes had just taken, coming to rest at the button keeping the rest of him from her.
She glanced up at him.
‘Oh, no.’ Callum grinned. ‘Your turn.’ He removed her hand from his waistband and raised her arms above her head, holding her wrists together while he kissed her hard on the mouth. He trailed his fingers down her forearms, down her triceps, grazed the sensitive flesh of her underarm, brushed the swell of her breasts and down her rib cage to where her singlet rested against her stomach.
He pulled away from the kiss and
smiled at her as he grasped the hem of her shirt and whisked it up and completely off in seconds.
‘Hailey,’ Callum breathed, looking his fill, still manacling her wrists above her head.
He brought her arms down slowly, watching her breasts, fascinated by their fullness and the dusky pink of their upturned nipples. He placed her hands, palms down, on the counter behind her, his fingers interlinked with hers, holding them there, making her chest thrust slightly.
‘Oh, my.’ Callum breathed out again and lowered his head, first kissing one rapidly puckering nipple and then the other.
‘Callum.’
He smiled against her chest as he heard the squeak of frustration and she squirmed a little on the bench. He glanced up at her from his position. ‘Shh.’ Then he turned his attention to a very enticing nipple and opened his mouth over it.
He groaned in satisfaction as she cried out and arched her back. He released her hands and immediately felt them in his hair, caressing it, urging his head closer. He obliged, switching sides, sweeping his arm behind her, bringing her closer, higher, further into his mouth.
Hailey squirmed, wanting to touch all of him, wanting to have him touch all of her. She kicked her feet against the cupboard doors in frustration.
Callum broke away, drunk with lust, his breath harsh with desire. ‘Let’s get horizontal,’ he suggested, sweeping her forward, lifting her bottom off the bench, gratified when her legs tightened around his hips, rubbing intimately against him. She clung to his neck and he almost fell over when she kissed him, squashing her breasts against him, distracting him from his goal, ruining his sense of direction.
They got as far as the nearest kitchen wall before he stopped, pushed her hard against it and returned her kiss. How they made it to her room, he’d never know. Between several wall stops, half-grunted directions and a hand finding its way below his waistband, it was amazing he didn’t injure both of them.
They collapsed on her bed. They didn’t notice the television still flickering or the multitude of hard, pointy objects barely covered by the thrown-back duvet. They were down and then they were naked, hastily discarding the rest of their clothes, and then they were all over each other. Exploring, touching, learning each other’s bodies, discovering their rhythm.
