All Saints: Love and Intrigue in the Stunning New Zealand Wilderness (The New Zealand Soccer Referee Series Book 1)

by K T Bowes

I shrugged and backed around Jack’s car, edging towards the wing nearest to the driver’s door. “The cops haven’t come looking for me yet. I haven’t decided what to say.”

  “Say nothing,” he growled, keeping his voice low. “I’ve sorted out a car with Hemi down at the BMW garage. You can pick it up tomorrow. Your dad gave me your account number and I’ve given you enough to clear that loan. Don’t do anything stupid, girl and we’ll call it quits.”

  “You’ve what?” My frightened brain struggled to take in his words. He’d paid up. The blackmail worked.

  “You heard!” Terry snapped. “But one wrong word, girl and I’ll break you. For good this time.” He whirled around and disappeared, his heels clicking on the concrete as he rounded the building. My heart raced in my chest and I found a wave of sickness. Another one.

  In Jack’s car I wrestled with the settings of the seat, mirrors and steering wheel while he laid with his head back against the head rest. “You look like crap,” I remarked when I’d adapted the car to my miniscule height. “More like a cup of tea and bed than going out drinking.”

  Jack rolled his head to face me, one eye squinted closed. “You’re probably right. Alcohol and pain killers aren’t a good idea, anyway.” He sighed. “I just didn’t want to go home to an empty house.”

  “You can stay at mine,” I offered, feeling a flare of compassion in my chest for his plight. “I know what loneliness is like.”

  “I know you do,” he conceded, facing forwards. “Sorry I didn’t realise until now.”

  “Why would you?” I asked with a sigh. “Everything in your garden was rosy; I thought it still was. My private Hell was exactly that; mine.”

  “Yeah, but I haven’t been there for you. Pete dying coincided with my marriage falling apart and I got busy and selfish. I’m sorry Ula.”

  “It’s fine.” I started the engine and released the handbrake. “Where to then?”

  Chapter 18

  Jack was right when he said alcohol and painkillers don’t mix. I’d drunk him under the table by the end of the second glass of sherry, which was all I could find in the back of the kitchen cupboard. I settled him in the spare bed and took his shoes off, not sure I wanted to cope with another naked male in my personal space. He cut a pitiful figure in the single bed; his tee shirt rucked up and his feet poking off the end of the mattress. I covered him up and put myself to bed, after assembling my marking by the front door ready to grab in the morning before school.

  I dreamed about Jack and Lacey, arguing over his refusal to have children. She screamed at him in her peach wedding dress and in my dream, I stood up and clapped, inserting myself between them with a sense of glee as I shoved his wedding band on my own fat finger. The beautiful band of gold wedged itself between the first and second knuckle and I looked down and saw all the soft rolls which used to encase my body. Panicking, I sat up in bed, sweat blistering across my forehead.

  The digital numbers on the alarm clock betrayed the midnight hour as I cast around in my confusion and a familiar noise drew my attention to the hallway. The light knocking echoed in the darkness. I slipped from my warm bed and padded along the carpet, standing on tip toes to peek through the peep hole. Teina Fox leaned against the wall opposite, hands thrust deep into his pockets and one foot resting on the wall behind him. As I watched, he appeared to give up and turned to leave.

  “It’s late!” I squeaked, whipping the front door open. “How did you get in downstairs?”

  He faced me, his eyes tired and his pale blue shirt undone at the collar. He looked rumpled and careworn. “You told me to slam the door on my way out the other day but I didn’t see if you grabbed any keys. I took the ones off the hook by the door but couldn’t find you. I drove around a bit and then tidied up here and went home. I meant to come back but got called into work. This is my first chance to come over.” His arms snaked around my waist and he pulled me into him. “You ignored me at the soccer ground.” Wounded ego leaked through his voice as he ran his hand underneath my pajama top and touched my soft skin.

  “You’re a lawyer,” I said, my voice muffled in his shoulder. “Why would you get called into work?”

  “I just did,” he said. “Trust me.”

  I rolled my eyes, recognising one of my father’s stock phrases. He usually said it at the exact moment I’d be better off mistrusting him, the words uttered from desperation or a guilty conscience.

  Teina’s lips sought my neck and he nuzzled beneath my hair. I opened my mouth to speak and he covered my lips with his. “I know, I know,” he breathed. “You don’t want anyone to know about us.”

  “There’s an ‘us’ then?” I asked, my heart skipping in my chest. His dark, sultry eyes studied my face and he lifted his hands and pushed them into my long hair, snagging against the messy ponytail at the back of my head.

  “Yes, there’s an ‘us’ and no, you won’t get rid of me as easily as you might think.”

  “I don’t want to get rid of you,” I murmured, enjoying his kisses on my face and the hardness of the body pressed against mine. “I’m a self-saboteur.”

  He snuffed out a low chuckle. “Yeah. I can believe that.” He bit the underside of my jaw before pressing his forehead to mine. “I’ve never met anyone like you.” His greater height meant he craned his neck to look me in the eye and I wrinkled my nose and pushed my fingers under his dark jacket. I teased his shirt out of his pants and he groaned and stepped away, holding me at arm’s length. “I need to go, babe. I just brought your keys back.”

  Disappointment felt like a knife in my chest and I pursed my lips. In defeat, I held my hand out for my spare keys and Teina placed them into my palm, his fingers brushing my skin. We both felt the connection and he held my gaze, letting his fingers wander onto the soft skin of my wrist and quirking his lips upwards when I shivered. He took a step forward and wrapped his arms around my back, crushing me into his strong chest. I sighed into the sense of safety he brought and let my fingers wander under his jacket again, caressing the smooth fabric of his shirt in the small of his back. I remembered the guilty ache between my thighs and turned my face up to him, inhaling as Teina’s warm lips pressed against my cheek and travelled across to settle on my mouth in a breathtaking kiss. “Sorry about before. Are we good now?” he asked, breaking away and nuzzling in my hair.

  “Come in and I’ll show you,” I whispered, wondering how I could explain away Jack’s existence in my spare bedroom.

  Teina’s lips left a kiss on my forehead and he gave me one last squeeze before letting go. “Not tonight, babe,” he replied, his voice a low hush. His thumb ran under my left eye in a soft arc and tracked down my cheeks to rub my bottom lip. “Why did you go to the game tonight? I didn’t expect you’d be there after Saturday.”

  I shrugged. “Wasn’t going to but Uncle Larry offered me a ride. I get fed up of my own company.” Surprised at my own admission, my cheeks coloured and my obvious discomfort embarrassed me.

  Teina caressed my cheek with tenderness and his eyes softened to the colour of treacle. “There’s a storm coming Ms Saint,” he whispered, shaking his head in a slow movement. “I don’t want you caught in it.”

  I screwed up my features in confusion, regretting how it made my face looked squished. But by the time I’d straightened out my dignity, Teina had already mentally vacated my presence. “What storm?” I demanded and he put his finger up to his lips and shook his head.

  “Be careful, Ursula,” he said and turned away, ignoring the lift and striding towards the door to the stairs.

  “Did the cops ask you about Mark Lambie?” I hissed after him and he turned for a second; just long enough to nod.

  “Yeah. Just tell them the truth.”

  I swallowed and shook my head but he didn’t see, already gone with the click of the door into the stair well.

  His absence left a disquieting vacuum in the hallway and a cool breeze accentuated my sense of isolation. I tracked it to an open window at the end
of the hall and padded across to close it. I used the excuse of fixing the dodgy catch closed to watch for Teina’s exit, hoping for one more glimpse of him before I returned to my loneliness. “What else could I tell them?” I mused.

  Feeling the vibration of the downstairs door click shut, I pressed my face against the glass and watched as Teina skipped down the front steps, his hands jammed into his pockets. The aftershave he transferred to my face from his, seemed to shroud me in his essence as I watched the top of his dark head move onto the street. He checked left and right before crossing the road, although no traffic moved around my silent neighbourhood at that hour. I scoured the street for his car, looking for its sleek outline under the street lamps but saw only familiar vehicles with their glowing residents’ passes glinting in the eerie darkness.

  A vehicle slid along the street, pulling to a stop next to Teina. From above, the saloon looked long and glossy, it’s colour indeterminable in the street glow. He slipped into the passenger seat and the car waited for a heartbeat before moving off and turning left along a street running perpendicular to mine. It moved in short, jerky runs as the speed increased and the vehicle pushed through its gears, as though the driver’s foot was a little too keen on the gas pedal. It paused at the junction ahead and indicated left to head back to the motorway and I realised how little I knew of Teina Fox. He’d given me no contact number or address; a secret, mystery lover whom I possessed no way of reaching. I gaped in surprise as Teina’s car did an emergency stop after beginning its journey onto the main road and a white van sped by much too fast. My hand fixed itself across my mouth at the realisation I’d almost witnessed a nasty crash.

  The colour drained from my face as the familiar blue and red lights flashed on in the rear window and the long car took off after the van. I gripped the window sill until my fingers ached and concentrated on breathing in and out at regular intervals, desperate to push out the feeling of faintness which started from my chest and worked its message to my brain.

  “Ula?” Jack’s voice forced me upright and I turned with a look of confusion plastered over my face. “Why are you out here?” His hair stuck up on one side and he looked handsome in a rugged way, carrying his broken wrist close to his body. He stood on my pathetic doormat in his socks, his jeans hanging low having parted company with his tee shirt to display a muscular abdomen covered in silky olive skin.

  “Why would a lawyer get into an unmarked cop car?” I asked, my voice echoing in the hallway. I shook my head and ran a hand over my eyes, letting the swearword slip from my lips.

  Jack tilted his head to one side and gave me a look of fondness. “You’re sleepwalking, Ula,” he said, putting me into the basket with all the other cute crazies he dealt with most days. “Come back to bed.” He held his arms out to me and I padded towards him, glancing back out of the window. With a clunk, the dodgy catch released itself and the unmistakable sound of a police siren drifted through the gap. Jack glanced through the glass, instinct piquing a cop’s interest in the plight of brothers in arms. Seeing only a reflection of the dimly lit hall, I watched him brush it off and beckon me with his good hand. “Come on, sweets,” he crooned, brotherly affection in his eyes. “I forgot you did the whole sleepwalking thing.” He enfolded me into his chest and kissed the top of my head. “I’ll get you a drink and settle you back in bed.”

  My bed felt cold and unwelcoming as I pushed myself beneath the covers. I heard Jack in the kitchen fighting the microwave one-handed. As good as his word, he brought me the overcooked milk and I scraped the skin away with my fingernail, finding it burning hot on top but cool and gloopy near the bottom of the mug. I sipped, trying not to pull a face at my cousin’s botched kindness. Jack settled on Pete’s side of the bed, stretching out and laying his head back against the headboard. It felt like we were children again, the solidarity spreading between us like fine copper threads. “I remember when you sleepwalked into the garden at Terry’s place,” Jack said, his tone light. “Alan stopped you falling in the pool.”

  I nodded, remembering the shocked sensation of the cold water on my toes as I walked down the first step. The boys hid my near accident from the adults, covering it up as high jinks, cuzzies together having a laugh when Margaret found us and sent us all to bed in disgrace. My sleepwalking became legendary within our generation of the Saint family and proved a source of much teasing and embarrassment growing up. Within the annals of my memory were visions of waking up with a shock, as my mother walked me round and round the cold tiles of the kitchen at our house in Mount Eden. She would find me in the strangest places, looking for things which weren’t lost or trying to leave the house in my pajamas. I missed my mother with a familiar ache and tears welled from somewhere near my heart. I suppressed them, not bothering to correct Jack in his inaccurate recollections.

  “We’re like a pair of odd shoes,” Jack sighed, sympathy in his eyes for my unshed tears. He held his good arm out and I put my mug on the bedside table and scooted over, snuggling into his chest. Instinct stopped me explaining about Teina’s visit and I let my gentle cousin believe I still grieved for Pete, my mother and our broken marriages.

  My alarm woke us at six, clanging into the silence and making us both jump. Jack’s cast rested over my thigh and he spooned me from behind, his chin on my shoulder and his body pressed in close. I leaned forward and his face slipped onto my pillow with a groan so I couldn’t lay back and resume the comfortable cuddle. I shifted sideways and looked at him. “Do you have work today.”

  “No.” He spoke into the pillow, his voice muffled. Raising the cast, he waved it in my face. “They gave me this week off to recover. I’ll go back on light duties next week.”

  “When does the cast come off?” I asked, yawning and stretching my arms above my head to touch the headboard.

  “Three weeks, then they check the stitches from the surgery.”

  “You had surgery?” I turned to him in surprise.

  “Course. The bone stuck through my forearm like a bloody shipwreck.”

  “No wonder it hurts,” I conceded. “Sounds awful.”

  Jack grunted and rested his head on my shoulder. “Everything’s awful,” he sighed. “My life’s a heap of crap.”

  I put my arms around him and stroked his hair. “Only temporarily,” I soothed. “It’ll work out. It just feels bad right now.”

  Jack’s cast felt scratchy against my bare stomach as the pajama top rode up and his fingers stroked the soft skin. “My wife screwed another guy to get pregnant,” he said, his voice a low growl. “How can that work out?”

  I frowned, not understanding. “So, is she still with him?” I asked and Jack shook his head, his hair tickling my neck.

  “No. She thought I’d accept another man’s baby just to please her. What kind of crazy logic is that?”

  “Don’t understand.” I hugged him harder and felt the exasperation in the tightness of his body.

  “I fire blanks; I can’t have kids,” he hissed.

  “Oh. I assumed you didn’t want them,” I replied. “You always said you didn’t.”

  “It was unlikely I could. Lacey knew that right from the start and accepted it. Then all of a sudden, she wants a baby so much she finds a guy and gets herself pregnant.” Jack’s head shake grazed my shoulder. “Bloody hell! This is so messed up.”

  “Do you still love her?” I asked, feeling the pent up emotion through his muscles.

  “I’ll always love her,” he sighed. “But I can’t forgive what she did.”

  “Did the chemotherapy for that tumour in your knee cause it?” I asked and Jack nodded against my shoulder. “Sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t know.”

  Jack swallowed and his fingers moved against my flesh, sending shivers of excitement to my brain. His cast felt scratchy and rough as his hand moved upwards so his fingers cupped my breast. He shifted, his interest growing and I allowed myself to be fooled by childhood desire and fantasy as he moved across me, balancing himself over me
on his elbows. His clothed body felt taut and hard against mine and his kisses on my neck left damp trails of ecstasy. The old me would have relished his sexual attentions and given anything he demanded with a willingness born of idol worship. He could have used and abused me and I would have been grateful enough to thank him for it.

  I lay still and analysed myself with a coolness which surprised me as my childhood crush nibbled my breast through my pajama top. The fingers of his good hand grappled with the elastic of my shorts and began to tug as his lips found mine. His kiss held desperation, stale sherry and sleep, but in his eyes I saw pain.

  “No!” I pushed at Jack’s chest and it felt an age before he stopped and rolled onto his back. I sat up and hugged my knees, his fingers brushing against the small of my back. I wavered, his gentle movements causing erotic sensations to addle my brain.

  “Why?” he whispered.

  “I just can’t.” My feet hit the floor and I stood, gathering my fallen hair into a ponytail behind me and yanking a scrunchie from the dresser when I couldn’t find the other one, suspecting it would be in the hall where Teina dislodged it. At the thought of him, I felt a stab of guilt and left the room, ignoring Jack’s use of my name. In the kitchen I slugged a glass of water and then another, as though ridding myself of the taste of Jack’s kisses.

  He followed me and leaned against the doorframe, his eyes downcast in misery. “I feel like I should apologise,” he mused, his tone heavy with regret. “But I’m not sorry.”

  “You’re married!” I exclaimed. “I’m not interested in messy relationships with married men. My life is complicated enough.”

  “It should’ve been you and me who got married, Ula, not you and Pete.”

  I slammed the glass down on the counter, hearing the tinny click as a crack began in the outer layer and worked its way up to the rim. “Are you freaking kidding me?” My voice sounded ugly as a screech and Jack took a step backwards. “You never liked me in that way!”

  “Of course I bloody did!” he bit, his face angry. “Always! I wanted to take you to the school ball in fifth form and your dad threatened to break my legs! So I took Lacey instead and the rest is history. Jordan promised it would never happen so I gave up. The day you married Pete I got so drunk at the reception, I don’t remember the next two days.” Jack hovered in the doorway, repelled by my expression of painful astonishment.