The Right One

by Ariadne Wayne

  Elliot made up my mind, shuffling his chair over and draping his arm around my shoulder, pulling me in tight for a hug.

  I turned my head toward him, smiling through the tears that threatened. “Love you too,” I whispered, unable to speak with any voice. He kissed my forehead and I leaned against him, looking back at Dad.

  “Then I’m very happy for you two. Shall we order a bottle of champagne to celebrate?”

  “I’m more of a beer guy.” Elliot nodded as he spoke.

  Dad grinned, loosening his tie and leaning back in his seat. “I haven’t had a beer in I don’t know how long. I think I’ll join you. Shall we make that three?” He looked at me, a gleam in his eye that I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen before. He was usually so serious.

  “I think I’ll stick to orange juice.”

  Elliot looked at me sideways. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine. I just don’t feel like drinking.”

  “You’re not pregnant, are you?” Dad said. Part of me wanted so badly to laugh out loud, knowing Nicola’s news. Somehow that grin on his face had gotten even bigger and I wondered what sort of answer he was expecting. But I was either dreaming, or had ended up in some kind of random parallel universe where my life was back to front. This was unnerving, my father having an almost 180-degree behavioural flip. Would that make him happy?

  “No, Dad. I just don’t feel like a drink. And I’m driving.”

  Was that a glint of disappointment in his eye?

  “Ruby, what would you like? Juice or maybe lemonade?” Dad asked, smiling warmly at her.

  “Juice, please.” She said it so quietly, blushing and snuggling behind Elliot

  “Two beers and two orange juices then. I’ll call the waiter over.” Now Dad's smiled widened, and he looked at me with all the pride in his eyes that I’d always wanted to see.

  This had to be one of the most bizarre days of my life. He’d never shown that warm side of himself in public, and although these two were now almost family, I thought he’d hold back.

  He waved at the waiter, and after a brief consultation with Elliot over which beers to order, he settled back down to smile at us.

  “I’ve got a little announcement of my own. I’m stepping away from the business a bit more, giving myself more time to relax. I’ve worked too hard for too long, and it screwed up so much of my life. I want a life of my own.”

  All I could do was nod. He hadn’t had a lot of time for me when I was younger, but maybe he’d have time to spend with his children, and even grandchildren when they did arrive.

  “Dad, I …”

  “Nicola and I are going to make it official too. I wanted you to be the first to know. I know she’s told you about the baby, and I do love her, Rebecca.”

  I placed my hand over his. “I know you do. It’ll take a bit of getting used to.”

  “I always thought you’d make a good big sister. Just never thought there would be thirty years between you and a younger sibling.”

  I laughed. “Neither did I. I think you’re good for Nicola. She needed someone to ground her, and looks like it’s you.”

  “Becca?” Ruby’s voice came from across the table.

  “Yes, sweetie?”

  “Can we have ice cream?”

  I smirked, while Elliot cocked an eyebrow. “After dinner. Let’s have a look at the menu and find something for you.” I reached for her hand and squeezed it.

  “They have a junior menu here, Rebecca. That’s why I chose this place.” Dad smiled kindly at Ruby, and she hid her face behind her hands.

  I picked up the menu, half expecting to see chicken nuggets. That would be weird and out of place for this kinda restaurant.

  “Oh. Chicken bites. Those are like nuggets, Ruby. They come with fries anyway.”

  Ruby nodded enthusiastically.

  “You’re sorted. Now for us.” I glanced at Elliot. He was deep in conversation with my father and I grinned at the sight of them talking. It didn’t even matter what it was about. Whatever it was, they seemed to be in agreement, all smiles and laughter.

  The two men I loved more than anything else in the world.

  * * *

  Ruby fell asleep about thirty seconds after climbing into the bed in my spare room, Elliot tucking her in while I pottered around the kitchen, making a cup of tea. The chamomile was soothing, and I sat at the dining table with my eyes closed just sipping it

  Warm, strong hands squeezed my shoulders, and I sighed as the tension rolled out of me.

  “You could always be my personal masseuse if you can’t find anything else,” I said.

  “I think I can manage this on top of a job. Are you okay?” Concern was evident in Elliot’s voice.

  “I’m fine. Just a little weirded out after seeing Dad the way he was.”

  “Your father is pretty cool, Rebecca.”

  “Cooler than I ever thought. I spent so many years trying to impress him. I never thought he was trying to do the same.”

  I placed the mug down on the table and stood, the tea having had the desired affect. I could stagger upstairs and flop on the bed and I’d be asleep before my head hit the pillow.

  “He seemed to get pretty excited at the thought of you being pregnant,” Elliot said, wrapping his arms around me and planting a kiss on the cleft between my breasts.

  “That was only one thing about today that was weird. I didn’t expect him to be so easy-going. He was just so relaxed and unlike himself.”

  “Maybe that’s what he always wanted to be like, but thought you had expectations. Seems to me that he loves you so much he would do anything for you.”

  I flopped my arms over Elliot’s shoulders, kissing him tenderly. “Let’s go to bed.”

  “There’s no reason why we couldn’t have a baby. Once I’ve got a job, anyway. We’ve been together for a while; it’s not like this is anything new.”

  I stared at him, dumbfounded. What the hell was it with the men in my life and babies?

  “Besides,” he continued, “it’s not like you’re getting any younger.”

  My jaw dropped as I narrowed my eyes at him. He just grinned and then kissed me again. “Come on, old girl. Bedtime.”

  “You’ll pay for that.”

  “That’s what I’m counting on.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  A big spit bubble popped in my face, and Chloe’s eyes widened as I laughed, wiping her slobber from my cheek.

  “She’s trying so hard to laugh. Logan’s been hanging out for just a little giggle. That’s as far as she gets,” Olivia said. We sat out on the deck with a glass of wine each, absorbing the sun while I caught up on her post-wedding gossip.

  “I still love her, even if she spits at me,” I said, wrinkling my nose at the little girl who sat on my lap. She was such a sweetheart.

  “So …” Olivia looked down at the table.

  “What? Is there something wrong?”

  She looked up at me, lips clamped together.

  “Olivia, what are you up to?”

  “Nothing. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. We spoke so briefly after the night Logan picked you up, and he said you got a hard time from Elliot.”

  “I’m fine.”

  I grinned at Olivia, little Chloe almost head-butting me as she leaned closer.

  “That’s what I came to tell you. We’re in a relationship.”

  She had a look on her face that almost resembled my father’s when he’d found out about Elliot being in a band. That orbiting eyebrow thing.

  “So you kissed and made up?”

  “You’re so nosy, Olivia,” I said, letting out a little smile.

  “And you know pretty much everything about my sex life, so spill the beans.”

  I hugged Chloe tighter. She smelled so good, I could hear my body pleading with me to make one of my own.

  “He’s been through a lot. His ex had cancer, and he found out he had a daughter. He was still trying to process that w
hen he came back that night.”

  Her jaw dropped as she just stared at me.

  “That would do it,” she finally said.

  “You know, we had a kind of friends-with-benefits thing. Frequent booty calls. I tried not to let it get too serious.”

  “But it is now.”

  The grin spread before I could help it as my feelings for Elliot rose to the surface just thinking about him.

  “It is now.”

  Olivia leaned back in her chair and nodded. “Good. I’m glad. You always seemed at a loose end, and I’ve felt so many times I’ve been dealing with my own dramas and not being as good a friend as I could have been.”

  “You don’t have anything to feel guilty about. I had other friends. One of them would hammer me into the mattress on a semi-regular basis. Didn’t he, Chloe?” I rubbed my nose against hers and she let out a delighted gurgle.

  “Oh, you are close to laughing. Are you going to laugh for me and annoy your father?”

  The unmistakable sound of Logan’s heavy boots behind me brought my laughter to the surface as I snuggled with Chloe.

  “If you tell me she laughed for you first …” His deep voice came from behind. Chloe’s head shot up as she recognised it, and I had a squirmy, wiggly little girl in my arms who was no longer interested in me.

  “She didn’t. I got lots of spit bubbles, though,” I said, gazing up as I handed his daughter to him.

  She squealed as she went into his arms, and I grinned at Olivia, who sat there shaking her head. “Real Daddy’s girl, aren’t you?”

  “Always,” Logan said, cradling Chloe in one arm, a beer in the other hand.

  Chloe let out a squeal again, and Logan laughed, shaking his head at her. “I know when I come home at least one person is really happy to see me.”

  Olivia laughed. “Not just her.”

  I stuck my tongue out, my finger in my mouth as I pretended to gag at what I knew would end up being their foreplay. Those two were so sexed up it wasn’t funny. And I loved them both so much, I couldn’t have been happier for them. Olivia for being my friend, and Logan for loving her. Though, that bit was easy.

  “You’re just jealous, Rebecca.” Logan grinned at me.

  “Oh no she’s not. Rebecca and Elliot are serious.” Olivia sang the words as if we were all teenagers talking about first loves, and to be honest it kinda felt like that after the emptiness I’d felt at times. To have Elliot as a friend had been awesome enough; to have him as so much more? Well, that was amazing.

  “Is that right? Even after the way he acted?” Logan growled.

  “It sounds like he had a lot to deal with.” Olivia rubbed his arm.

  “He did. He brought his daughter home to live with him after her mother died. She’s four. So he’s coping with all of that and then comes home to find me in another man’s arms.”

  Olivia screwed up her face, that eyebrow inching up again. “Another man’s arms?”

  “It was that or let me fall on my face in a drunken stupor.” I laughed.

  “Just you make sure he’s good to you. Like I said, he’ll have me to answer to if he’s not. Although, I have to admit I’m impressed you found someone who can keep up with you.” Logan winked at me. He was like that big brother I’d never had.

  “Well, he is younger than me. More Olivia’s age.”

  “So he found a cougar too. Lucky man.”

  Olivia reached across the table and gave him a gentle slap on the arm. Logan grinned at her, winking as Chloe blew one of her spit bubbles and it broke, splashing across his face. He laughed, wiping his face with his hand. In response, she chortled, and the look on his face was priceless, his jaw dropping at the sound.

  “Was that you giggling, Chloe? Did you giggle for Daddy?”

  The sight of this tall, well-built, tough guy reduced to baby talk made my heart flutter. Not for Logan, but for the thought that one day that could be Elliot with our baby. Oh, holy crap.

  “I’ll bring him over some time so Olivia can meet him and you can see that he’s not a douchebag.”

  “We’d love that,” Olivia said.

  “Seriously, that would be great,” Logan said. “We’ll need to make sure he fits into the family. You are a part of it, after all you have done for Olivia.”

  “I love Olivia, probably nearly as much as you but in a completely non-sexual, don’t-want-to-hump-her-silly kinda way.”

  Logan grinned, shaking his head and then turned to look at Olivia with that intense gaze that made my stomach flip. I’d always loved the way he looked at her, even before she realised he wanted her as much as she adored him. Now I got that look from Elliot, the warmth that feeling generated was even more real.

  Chloe squealed again, breaking the gaze, blowing bubbles at her father.

  Daddy’s girl.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The house was still when I got home, the fading light casting long shadows in the living room. The aroma coming from the kitchen was divine. Elliot had left dinner in the slow cooker for me.

  I was well looked after these days. Elliot worked when he could, Ruby was in day-care three days a week and I helped out where I could. At least now he was there all the time for his grandmother, none of this coming and going stuff. Between the two houses, we were making things work.

  I drew the curtains and turned the on the lights, taking a deep breath and smiling at my stomach grumbling in response. I patted my belly. “Gonna go get you sorted.”

  Passing through the kitchen, I walked out to the deck, wondering if they were going to join me for dinner. There was more than enough food, but Elliot was so good at taking care of me, there was equal chance he’d show up afterward and split what was remaining into lunches to be frozen.

  The house next door was dark, which was unusual since the sun was going down.

  Lost in thought, I jumped as something pressed against my leg. I looked down, smiling at the big, grey, fluffy cat purring around me.

  “Hey, fur ball. Whatcha doing?”

  I bent, picking up the cat and stroking it while looking at the house for any sign of life. Weird. This time of day the lights would be on and Elliot’s grandmother would be fussing around the kitchen, either cooking or watching over Elliot’s shoulder.

  Placing the cat back on the deck, I cocked my head.

  “Have you had any food? I’m going to get something to eat. That smell is driving me crazy.”

  I walked back inside the kitchen, standing with the door open until the cat followed me in.

  I ladled out a plate of the casserole and took a deep breath. The meat and potatoes were about to melt in my mouth, I was so very sure of that. Blowing on it, I laughed as the cat rubbed around my ankles, as mad about the smell as I was.

  “Okay. I probably shouldn’t, but I’ll put some meat on a plate for you. Don’t you dare tell anyone.”

  I spooned a few pieces out on a plate, waving my hand over it to cool it down and looked out the back window again. There were still no lights on next door and the sky was growing darker.

  I hope everything’s alright?

  Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I dialled Elliot. The tinny sound of The Lion King theme filled the air. His phone sat on the table vibrating away.

  I hung up. My first thought was how sweet it was that he had used that ringtone, a reminder of our first ‘date’. My second thought was that his grandmother wasn’t home, and Elliot had left without taking his phone. That set the alarm bells ringing in my head. He was always scrolling through Facebook or some other app, and wouldn't go anywhere without it. When he'd been away with no phone coverage, it'd driven him crazy.

  For a few moments I just stood there, unsure of my next move. The cat kept rubbing against me, a constant reminder of my commitment to give him food, but I couldn’t move. What should I do?

  My stomach grumbled, and I shook off the worry, deciding to eat my meal and feed the cat. I bent, placing the plate on the floor. Wisps of steam still dr
ifted off the meat and gravy, but the cat would know what to do.

  I took my plate into the living room and sat on the couch. Flicking on the television, I tried my best to keep occupied. It was hard. Maybe there was nothing wrong and my big ol’ brain was worrying over nothing. But it was odd.

  We’d settled into our taking-it-slowly routine. I felt uneasy about it being broken. That thought made me smile. I’d lived such a haphazard life, but now had domesticity without sharing my house. Not yet anyway.

  After eating seconds, I flicked the slow cooker to ‘keep warm’ and settled back on the couch, my eyes growing heavy as the background sound of the TV went on.

  The cat padded across the floor, licking his lips, and jumped up on the couch beside me. He was Elliot's grandmother's cat and had been inside a few times since Elliot had been going back and forward, but never been allowed to sit on the furniture. Tonight, I’d make an exception.

  My eyes sprung open as the phone rang. The number wasn’t one I recognised, but I pressed the accept key.

  “Hello?”

  He was barely coherent on the phone, whispering between deep breaths that sounded almost like hiccups.

  “Becs, can you come to the hospital? Nan had a stroke.”

  The words barely got out. This was bad, really bad.

  “Of course I can. Which hospital are you at?”

  “In the city. Come quick. I need you.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  Picking up my keys, I headed toward the door. The cat looked up from the couch with sleepy eyes, and I shook my head. “Sorry, fur ball. You gotta get outside. I’ll let you back in when I come home. Whenever that is.”

  The cat buried his face back in his paws, and I rolled my eyes, walking to the couch to pick him up.

  “I promise I’ll make it up to you. You can have some more of that steak later. Right now I gotta go and look after Elliot.”

  He snuggled into me as I made it back to the door, placing him gently on the step.