I paste on my brightest smile. “Can I not answer that right now? Tell me a funny story to take my mind off things.” I look at him, watching me. “Please.” The last word is almost a whisper.
He reaches out to take my hand and we both stare down at his bandages. He pats me awkwardly on the wrist and that does make me smile. In fact, it’s ridiculously funny and a moment later we’re both giggling, gasping for breath, tears leaking from our eyes. Two men sitting opposite stare at us like we’re both mad.
“Sorry,” he says. “That was meant to be comforting, not grossly weird.”
I’m still giggling. “It was. I promise. Just also very funny.”
“That could have been mega awkward. You’re lucky I’m trussed up like a chicken. Now you don’t need to fend off my advances.”
I don’t feel lucky. Part of me would give anything to hold Everett’s hand, even if the only reason it might happen is because my mother is in hospital in another state and I’m rushing home to see her.
“We wouldn’t want that, would we? Everett Porter showing feelings for anything but his love of the defence forces.” I nudge his shoulder and he chuckles. I like the sound of his laugh. It reminds me of easier times. When neither of us had any obligation but to study for a test at the end of the week, and make sure our homework was done.
“Can I ask you something?” His voice is tight.
“Sure. Anything.”
“Could we swap numbers? I’d like to stay in touch, if you don’t mind.” He stares at my knee, avoiding my eyes.
“I can add you on Facebook if you want.” I pull out my phone, forgetting for a moment that the internet doesn’t work on the plane.
He makes a face and shakes his head as his own phone appears from his shirt pocket. “I’m not a big fan of social media. I’m not home enough to make it count and I don’t like people knowing my business.” He slides his finger over the screen and adds a new contact. “You don’t have to say yes.”
I snicker. “Unlike you, I am active on social media. You can easily find me so I might as well just give you the details and save you learning how to search.” I tilt my screen toward his and he copies my number. “Besides, I’d like to keep in touch, too. I enjoyed our catch up last night.”
“Me, too.” He nudges my arm and then stays close, his weight against me. It’s comforting and exactly what I need in this moment. I long to drop my head on his shoulder and get some sleep but his next words have my full attention. “Let’s plan to meet up before the end of the month. We’ll both be in Melbourne and I don’t know when I’ll get the chance again.”
“Okay.” My overactive imagination can’t help but put images in my head of what a catch up would look like. Does he mean a coffee at the Saturday market? Or does he mean something between the sheets late on a Thursday night? In my weakened emotional state I could be talked into the latter by him. I snort and finally do rest my head against his shoulder. Who cares what he means? Right now, I need to get home to check on my mother and my son.
Chapter Six - Everett
Danny, Sayer and Cross fall through my door, all of them laughing when they see me.
“You’re in one piece!”
“You look good, man!”
“All that money about to go begging if you didn’t make it.”
“Shut up, you idiot. Someone will hear you.” I can’t believe Cross said that. It’s usually Danny giving me shit about my potential inheritance.
Danny rolls his eyes and flops into the chair beside my bed. “We’ve been a secret for almost ten years. No one cares what we’re doing. I think we might be a little self-absorbed.”
“Well, we each agreed. Which means no blabbing in public. And I can confirm that you, at least, are definitely self-absorbed.”
“Whatever. Why aren’t you in the private hospital?” He peers out the window and then flicks the little packet of plain biscuits sitting on my meal tray. “Much better snacks over in private.”
“This is where they put me. Defence gets to choose my accommodations. Something about the best burns specialist being here.”
Danny’s face takes on the most serious expression I’ve seen there in years. He even puts his hand on my arm “You know you only have to ask, and we’d take care of it, right? If you needed cash to go private, or something.”
“I know. I can’t imagine I’d ever ask, but thanks. Now get your civilian hand off my arm.” I lower my voice to a growl, and he laughs, his serious moment dissolving as Sayer and Cross sit on the side of my bed. “What about them?” He nods his head. “Shouldn’t you make them stand in case they touch you?”
“It’s only you, Mr. Griffin. None of us can ever be sure where you’ve been.”
He laughs and points across the bed. “Speaking of which, Sayer here has a girlfriend.”
“Does he now?” I look at Sayer and watch him turn red. “Is that because of the stupid game?”
Sayer nods. “I want to say no, but I have to be honest. Mum organized a date for me just to shut Danny up, but one thing led to another and Kendra and I are very happy now, thank you. It’s our four-week anniversary this weekend.”
“Oh gross, you’re at the week-counting stage.” Cross rolls his eyes and stands, folding his arms on his chest. “Your mum found you a girlfriend?”
“No.” Danny laughs and gets up to look out the window, again. “He hooked up with his secretary.”
“The hot one you were bitching about last Christmas when she bought a guy to the office party?”
“The very one. She won’t be taking any guys anywhere now, but me.”
“Sounds serious.” I stare at Sayer. Besides the red face, his grin says he’s pleased with himself. I feel an unfamiliar twinge of envy.
His words confirm my thoughts. “It is. I told her about us.”
“What? Why?” We stare at him as though he’s confessed to a crime.
“Because, when you care for someone you tell them your deepest secrets.” He shrugs. “And that was mine.”
“How did she take it?”
“She didn’t batt an eyelash. My mother, on the other hand, had her agreeing to a prenup over lunch.”
“Ugg. Mothers!” Cross throws his hands up and moves toward the door. Boarding school left us all with varying opinions of our mothers, but this seems different. Before I have a chance to grill him about his odd behaviour, Danny interrupts.
“So, Everett. Your weekend is coming up. What plans have you made?”
“I already told you, Danny. I’m not playing your stupid game.”
“Yeah, but we didn’t think you meant it. You always join in. Eventually.” Sayer frowns at me and I frown back. “We thought that’s why you asked for your car.” He drops my keys onto the table at the foot of my bed.
“Thanks for dropping it off, but that’s not why I wanted the car. You want too much. A date is one thing, but then you want me to keep her around until New Year’s? No way. That can only lead to problems. As soon as my hands are better I’m straight back to work.”
“Until then, you’re free though, right?” Sayer speaks, again. He normally has my back. Now he’s gone soft because he’s found someone to share his bed. It’s alright for him. He doesn’t have the added pressure of his family trying to control him by insisting he marry. “Just go on a date and Danny will stop nagging.”
“Knock, knock.” A familiar redhead appears in the doorway and I can’t help but notice the way my three friends react. They immediately straighten, stepping away from my bed and shooting pointed glances my way.
I bite my tongue on the words I want to say. Instead, I smile at Jillian. “Hey, there. Come in, Jillian.”
“Sorry.” She glances around the room filled with masculine energy. “Am I interrupting?”
“No, of course not. Come in.” I opened my mouth to say those exact words, but Danny beats me to it. “Here, take my seat. I’m leaving in a minute.” He steps backward as Jillian takes the seat by the bed.
>
She slides her chair closer and examines my new bandages. “How are you doing? What did they say?”
“All the news is good. As you can see my fingers have been set free.” I wiggle them in front of my face. “It’s healing well, and I should be bandage-free within a week. No skin graft required. How did you find me?”
“I have my ways.” She laughs as I frown. “Don’t panic, I’m not stalking you. I heard the discussions when we got off the plane about the destination of each ambulance. I hope the media weren’t lurking nearby. All those flashing lights made it look like some kind of major disaster response.”
“You’re sneaky.”
“Thank you.” She giggles and flutters her eyelashes. “Not like I couldn’t have just called you anyway, since you gave me your number.”
As she speaks I sense looks being exchanged between the guys. Cross is smirking as he backs up and stands next to Danny near the door. Jillian’s can’t see them, and I’m glad. Those idiots are now pointing at her and tapping their watches.
“What’s that? You have to go?” I glare at Danny and he starts laughing. “Thanks for dropping by. Feel free to be strangers.” My stare has turned icy and they quickly get the message.
They each say goodbye and as they move toward the door Sayer says. “I hope we see you again, Jillian. Get Everett to invite you out this weekend. He won’t do it unless you push him.”
Jillian frowns and turns in her seat to look at them, then she glances back at me. “I actually planned to invite you out for a meal, but I had tonight in mind. A little bird just told me you’re being discharged this afternoon.”
“Really?” I feign ignorance. The guys didn’t need to know I’d planned a quiet night in a hotel room in the city, watching movies and indulging in room service. I usually stay with Cross or Merek when I’m not deployed, but a night of peace on my own sounded too good to resist.
I glance at the ceiling, aware my sneakiness now has me backed into a corner.
If I say no to Jillian, I’ll be dragged home with one of them. They wouldn’t dream of letting me stay in a hotel when they keep space specifically for me when I’m home. If I accept Jillian’s offer, I’m on a date that I swore I wouldn’t get sucked into.
When I look around Jillian and the boys are grinning at me, almost as one. It’s as though they planned it this way. The worst part is that Danny’s grin is biggest of all.
Chapter Seven - Jillian
“Did you agree to come out just because your friends embarrassed you?”
“No. Definitely not. If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be.”
“Military guy always gets what he wants, huh?”
“You have experience with the type?”
She laughs and thanks the waiter as he places our drinks on the table. “There is only one type once you land yourselves in the medical wing. Bolshy, annoyed, and bossy. That’s my experience, anyway.” She sips her drink and I make a face. “What?”
“Your drink is green.”
“Yes, well, it’s St Patrick’s Day. You’re wearing a green shirt, so I thought you knew.”
“I thought it was tomorrow, and I was actually trying to forget.” I take a pull of my beer and shake my head as I place the glass on the table. “Danny insisted last New Year’s that we each had to make a date for a certain weekend. I got St Patrick’s. I told him to piss off, and yet, here we are.” I shake my head, again. I have no idea how I let this happen.
“Oh, it’s a date now?” She raises an eyebrow as she drinks her own beer and for the first time in forever I feel my face blush. “I’ll have to be on my best date-behaviour.”
“I think we’ve caught up enough that you can just be yourself.” Why is that my answer? Why don’t I tell her this isn’t a date?
She smiles and relaxes in her seat. “I’m glad. It’s so long since I’ve been on a date that I’m not sure what date-behaviour even is.”
“Mostly keep your fingers out of your nose and don’t sneak out the window of the toilets.”
Her beer sprays across the edge of the table as she jerks forward, laughing. “Oh, God. Have you ever had to sneak away from a date? I only have one time. It was so awful that I ran from the hotel and up some side streets, hoping he hadn’t seen me leave.”
“What’d he do to deserve that?”
“He was short, like shoulder-height to me, but that wasn’t the problem. After just a few minutes he started telling me the plans he had for us. It involved rope, whipped cream, and me quitting my job to spend all my time in his dungeon. It seemed best to make a run for it without leaving him my number.”
It’s my turn to snort my beer. “Where’d you meet?”
“Online. My one and only attempt at online dating.”
“So where do you find dates now?”
“I don’t. I’ve made peace with the fact that I’m a single mother. I have obligations, and a job that takes me away from home a lot. I’m made for celibacy. It’s just too hard to focus on a relationship when I have to think of Jack.”
“That’s sad. Don’t you want someone who cares for you?”
Jillian’s eyebrows creep into her hair. “This from you? Didn’t you tell me at some point between midnight and three several nights ago, that you don’t do any kind of serious relationship? That you’re married to your work, and that’s enough?”
I grin and nod. “I did. It seems different to hear it from a woman, though. All the cliché’s say women should be looking to settle down.”
“Yes, well, we’ve discussed our favourite clichés, too, haven’t we? I certainly don’t plan on becoming one.”
“That’s fair. How’s your mum?”
She brightens at my question. “She’s good. Really good. They expect to let her out after the weekend. She’s there for observation and to keep her from scrubbing the house or cooking meals to celebrate me being home. I’m so relieved.”
“I’ll bet. And Jack?” I can’t help it. I want to know if I could be lucky enough to have the weekend with her. Not just tonight, but the actual weekend. My fingertips tingle and I don’t know if it’s my injury or my body warning me that I’m traveling down a dangerous path. I haven’t ever spent a weekend with a woman, and I have good reason for that.
“He’ll be here on Monday. They’re going to drive from Sydney. It’s a lot easier than flying.”
That’s it. There’s confirmation of the whole weekend. Now I just have to stop being a coward and make my move. Making plans, even if they’re just in my head, is the worst idea.
Why does it feel so right, then? Why am I having glimpses of what it would be like to hold her? Wake up with her? Help her get through this time with her mother in the hospital and her child traveling, on his way here with her brother?
I don’t have any answers. Just more questions. The main question that bounces around my head as I stand and pick up her glass is this. How did Jill Munro, the girl I thought about all through the first few months of my awful boarding school experience, end up in a pub with me right about the time my brain started questioning my life choices?
That sounds a little deep, so instead I say, “Another beer?”
She smiles. “Please, and can you order a bowl of those green snacks? We might as well get into the spirit.”
When I return with new green drinks and a platter of completely green food, I ask, “Do you know the history of St. Patrick’s Day? Do you know what they’re celebrating?”
“I’m probably wrong, but I think it’s based on a religious holiday that’s actually celebrated in Ireland with a public holiday and a parade. Australia has a long history of Irish settlement which is why we’ve embraced it.” She glances across the room at a couple who’ve linked arms and are doing a jig. They’re dressed in green from top to bottom. “Although it seems like a good excuse to dress up to me.”
I laugh and try a green pickled onion. Green food colouring never agreed with me as a kid, so I plan to be careful of the snacks.
“I think you’re right. We do love a dress up.”
“I can look it up.” She pulls out her phone and pops a square of green cheesecake into her mouth. She chews and says, “We should have ordered Guinness pie and mashed potato. It might have gone better with the beer. Here.” She turns the screen toward me. “March 17 is the official death date of St Patrick, and he is the foremost Patron Saint of Ireland.” She laughs as she reads down the screen. “Here we go. This is why it has stayed so popular. Restrictions for Lent are traditionally lifted which is why eating and drinking alcohol is such a big part of the day. Hmm.” She puts her phone back in her pocket. “Interesting.”
“My dad used to say it’s been a good day when you learn something new.” I pick up my beer and tilt it toward her.
She taps hers to mine and gives me a cheeky smile. “Here’s to a good day, then.”
Chapter Eight - Everett
Two hours later, Jill groans. “I have a stomach ache. And I forgot to buy a lotto ticket. I promised my mum.”
“You can do it online.” I motion to a waiter to remove the platter from between us, but he has his arms full and turns away. “No more green beer for you.”
She smirks and nods. “I can get lotto tickets online?”
“Yep. No idea what time it closes but there’s an app.”
She pulls her phone out, again, and starts scrolling, her eyes flicking over the screen. “Lucky for me she doesn’t play the same numbers every week.”
“I’ve never been a big fan of the lotteries.”
She smirks and digs in her back pocket for her credit card. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Everett,” she says, without looking up, “but your family never seemed to be short of cash back in school. Maybe you don’t need a lotto win quite as much as the rest of us.”
The Billionaire's Luck (Secret Billionaire's Club Book 2) Page 3
