‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he scoffed. ‘You’ll be a wonderful mother. You were always good with Lucy, still are.’
‘Thanks,’ she smiled meekly. ‘But it’s a moot point. First I’d have to find a man to have kids with.’
As if that would be difficult, he thought. Did she really have such a low opinion of herself? Without thinking, he reached out and brushed his fingertips along her cheek, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. She caught his hand against her cheek, holding it there as they gazed into each other’s eyes. His pulse thrummed hard and fast. He felt himself leaning forward, losing his balance and much, much more as he stared at her lips and imagined them playing erotically across his. One hand still pressed to her cheek, he reached the other up to steady himself against the tree and dipped his head.
Right before Lady Gaga’s latest hit started blaring from Ellie’s pocket.
Dammit. Ellie cursed her phone as Flynn’s head snapped back. Her ringtone had broken the moment. It was set to loud, and wasn’t the kind you could easily ignore. She swallowed her disappointment and resisted the urge to lick her lips, which felt as if they’d been robbed of a vital liquid. He had been about to kiss her. Flynn had been about to kiss her.
‘My phone,’ she explained, her focus still on his lips.
‘I figured.’ He raised his eyebrows at the vibrating bulge in the pocket of Lucy’s track pants. ‘You going to answer it?’
‘It could be Mat. I think I’d better.’ Her heart sinking, she let his hand drop from her face. She dug about for the offending item and then glanced at the screen. She grimaced apologetically to Flynn. ‘It’s my agent.’
‘Take it.’ Flynn gestured to the phone before leaning back to rest on the palms of his hands. He looked totally at ease; a pretty good actor, she thought. An onlooker wouldn’t guess that, only seconds ago, they’d been that close to stepping across a line she’d drawn a decade ago.
‘Hi Dwayne,’ she answered, trying to inject some normality into her voice.
‘Babe,’ he drawled down the phone.
Ellie angled her head so the phone was as far from Flynn as possible. Not that it would do any good – her agent had the kind of voice that carried much further than the telephone. She could guess what Flynn would make of a guy like Dwayne. Even she could only take him in small doses and she’d had years to acclimatise. But while he had the most flamboyant personality of anyone she knew, and while he could rarely see past how anything affected himself, he was a good agent. ‘How you going?’ she asked.
‘Struggling without my best client.’
‘Always the sweet-talker.’ She shook her head and glanced across at Flynn, but he was engrossed in rubbing Rodger’s belly.
‘I’m serious, babe. How long till you’re back? The writers have done a great job writing you out these last weeks, but the boss is getting tetchy about your absence. Not getting any ideas about leaving for good, are you?’
‘No.’ Her reply wasn’t as determined as she’d meant it to sound. She wouldn’t admit it, but she was already contemplating the idea of extending her stay a little longer. ‘Why would you think that?’
‘Journos, why else? Haven’t you seen the articles I’m sending?’
She pursed her lips before replying. ‘I’ve been kinda busy. You know, looking after my godmother.’
‘So, it’s not because of that ex of yours?’
She looked across at said ex. Placing her hand over the mouthpiece, she stood up and said, ‘I’m just gonna finish this over here.’
Flynn nodded.
‘What exactly have they been saying about us?’ she demanded as soon as she was out of Flynn’s earshot. It had been remiss of her to not keep track of what was being written, but since she’d started helping out with the play, she’d only given the occasional thought to her job.
‘That he’s a spunky, hunky monkey, and locals say you’re getting mighty close again.’
Grr. She gritted her teeth. Somewhere there was a leak. That must be why the media knew about her break from the show so soon. Lake Street was filmed months in advance, an absence like hers usually didn’t make itself known for some time. But who?
‘One, Dwayne,’ she started, ‘you shouldn’t believe everything you read. Two, Flynn and I are on speaking terms again but that’s it.’ She refrained from telling him she’d been sitting under a gum tree with the accused only moments before. From saying how wonderful it felt to have him back in her life, and that they’d just almost kissed, and that, right then, she’d wanted it more than anything.
‘Ah, well, that’s a relief.’
‘Is there anything else?’
‘In a hurry to get away, are we?’ Dwayne joked.
‘No, it’s just …’ She glanced over her shoulder and realised Flynn had already gone back into the shed. Disappointment weighed heavily on her.
‘Never mind,’ Dwayne said. ‘I’ve got loads of work to do, just wanted to check in. How many more weeks do you think you’ll need?’
‘Matilda has a doctor’s appointment next week, to see how long until she’s off the crutches,’ Ellie replied. ‘I’ll give you a definite time then. Speak soon.’
‘Bye babe.’
Ellie turned off her phone and shoved it back in her pocket. She looked at the shearing shed. She wanted to go back inside, to talk to Flynn, to hang out with him, but she was scared as well. Terrified that the more time she spent in his splendid company, the less she’d want to leave.
One near kiss didn’t mean Flynn would get over what she’d done. She couldn’t go off on such foolish, fantastical tangents. Besides, as she’d told Karina, her life was in Sydney now – her job, her apartment, her friends. But despite all this, she had to acknowledge that Hope Junction was getting under her skin again. And it was becoming harder to deny it had almost everything to do with Flynn Quartermaine.
Flynn wanted to punch something, but dabbing the backdrop with globs of brown paint would have to do for now. Foolish should have been his middle name. Ignoring the jibber-jabber of Lucy and the boys, he threw himself into the task, but he sensed Ellie’s presence the minute she walked back into the shed. He didn’t even have to see her to know she was there, and he hated himself for it. She was getting under his skin. Again.
He acknowledged her with a nod as she sashayed up beside him and retrieved her brush. In his head, Flynn could still hear that sleaze’s voice asking her if she was staying in Hope. Of course her answer was no, without a moment’s hesitation. Flynn was foolish all right, foolish for thinking that Ellie might have been harbouring similar feelings for him as he was for her. Yeah right. He was pathetic. What could he offer her now that she hadn’t turned down years ago?
Everything he’d overheard of the phone conversation made him despise her career even more. He hated the thought that Lucy wanted to become a part of that world too. He tried to tell himself that just because the bloke she’d been chatting to – babe this and babe that – sounded like a total tool, it didn’t mean everyone in the industry was like that. Ellie certainly seemed grounded enough. Simply returning to care for Matilda proved that, but the extra stuff with the play, with the cooking, and with painting Matilda’s house – all that showed Flynn that her celebrity status hadn’t gone to her head. It wasn’t her fault if he was having trouble remembering the boundaries.
Maybe instead of feeling bitter, he pondered, he should be thanking his lucky stars the call had interrupted what could have turned into a very big mess.
Chapter Seventeen
‘Nice evening?’ Mat’s voice floated down the hallway before Ellie had even shut the front door.
She tried to school her smile so it wasn’t a dead giveaway of what had gone down between her and Flynn. Not that, technically speaking, anything had actually gone down, but something had shifted between them today. A candle of hope had been lit in her heart – a candle she hadn’t known was there until the moment when he’d leaned intimately towards her.
‘Yes, thank you.’ She stopped in the doorway of the living room to find Matilda and Joyce surrounded by half-full boxes. ‘Looks like you two have been busy as well.’
‘Never mind these,’ said Mat, giving the box nearest to her a good shove with one of her crutches, as if to prove her point. ‘We want to hear about your night.’
Ellie glanced at Joyce. Nice lady, sure, but still not someone she wanted to spill her secrets to. She shrugged and perched on the arm of the couch. ‘Well, I got bowled over by a dog and covered in mud; we painted, talked, and painted some more; and then we had Karina’s minestrone for dinner.’
‘That soup is definitely a meal,’ Joyce said, heaving herself up off the floor. ‘I’ve begged her for the recipe but she won’t budge. And speaking of food, I must be off. The cats will be wondering where I am with their dinner.’
Ellie saw Joyce out and locked the front door for the night. ‘Shall I make us some hot chocolate?’ she asked Matilda.
‘As if I need to answer that,’ came Mat’s reply.
Chuckling, Ellie headed for the kitchen. She whipped up two big mugs of cocoa, topped each with three marshmallows and then carried them into the living room, where Matilda already seemed to be nodding off. Ellie frowned as she put the drinks on the coffee table; it was a miracle she could find a spot amongst all the clutter. At the thunk of the mugs against the table, Mat startled and opened her eyes.
‘Thanks, m’dear.’
Ellie sat on the couch next to Matilda, biting her tongue. She stopped herself asking whether her godmother was overdoing it, and pushed aside the niggling worry that there was more going on here than a broken ankle. Mat didn’t like being fussed over. And despite Ellie thinking she deserved such fuss, she understood where the other woman was coming from. Matilda was the most independent woman she’d ever met. The person she admired most. A true inspiration to the female gender. Sticking around a bit longer would give Ellie the chance to make sure Matilda recovered properly, and if she was still tired once her ankle healed, Ellie could make the doctor find out if there was anything else going on.
‘Would you mind if I stayed a little longer?’ Ellie picked up her mug. ‘Say, another month or so?’
Matilda’s smile stretched from ear to ear, but she took a moment to speak. When she did, Ellie noted her words were slightly choked. ‘I would absolutely love that.’ She scooped up Ellie’s hand and squeezed it gently. ‘What’s brought this on? Is it Flynn?’
A delightful warmth flooded Ellie at the mere mention of his name. She swallowed, trying to regulate her feelings. She didn’t want to go getting Mat’s hopes up, or her own. ‘He has something to do with it, yes, but it’s you and the theatrical society too. I’m enjoying myself.’
‘I knew it.’ Mat punched the air in triumph, ignoring the bit about herself and the play. ‘Something’s happened between you.’
‘Not exactly,’ Ellie replied. It was perilous to talk about this but she desperately wanted to share it with someone. And in Hope Junction, Matilda was the only someone she could trust.
‘Come on, girl, don’t be coy.’
‘Okay.’ She lowered her voice, even though the closest possible eavesdropper was old Mrs Willet next door, who had hearing aids in both ears. ‘We almost kissed.’
‘Ooh.’ Matilda pressed her hand against her heart and positively swooned. Ellie frowned, she’d never known Mat to be so gung-ho about romance. Or to say ooh so often. ‘Tell me more.’
Ellie took a deep breath. ‘It’s all a bit of a blur, but some time this afternoon I realised I still love Flynn. I guess I never stopped.’ Mat nodded as if this were yesterday’s news and waited for Ellie to continue. ‘He’s such a lovely, strong man, but he’s also incredibly charismatic and good-looking.’ She couldn’t help but blush a bit at this confession. ‘For the past ten years, I’ve tried to keep busy – so I wouldn’t think about what life would have been like if I’d stayed, if I’d told him the truth. But really, I’ve thought of nothing else. Coming back here, to the town, to Black Stump, confirms what I always suspected. I never gave up that dream of being married to Flynn, I just repressed it. I thought Hope would make me feel like an outsider, unwanted.’ Feeling herself choking up again, she took another deep breath. ‘And it did at first, but now that’s passed and I feel as if I’ve come home. Sydney, my career, it all seems like an alternate universe, like this is where I’m meant to be.’
On the one hand, this admission felt like a heaviness had been lifted from her shoulders, but on the other, she now had more weighing her down than ever. Like the prospect of telling Flynn how she felt. And how her life could – would – change dramatically, whatever his answer. God, she couldn’t even begin to fathom what Karina would say if she knew.
If Flynn wanted to give their relationship a second chance, she would have to decide what to do about her career. Flynn’s life was in Black Stump; leaving the farm would crush his whole essence and everything she loved about him. But could she really give up acting so easily? It had been her lifeline for so long – the only stable, certain thing in her world – but suddenly it didn’t seem that important. If she got the chance to choose, she knew, with absolute clarity, that Flynn, Matilda, Black Stump, Hope Junction would be the winners. She loved working with the theatrical society, so if she stayed, perhaps teaching was an option. She could do her degree by correspondence and teach at the local school, or even just run private lessons. That way she could keep a hand in her career and be in Hope.
Stop! Her mind was running full steam ahead to fantasyland, but she couldn’t jump on board just yet. Maybe never. Despite Flynn still feeling something for her – the chemistry between them had undeniably sizzled – he was fighting it. Every time they started talking deeply, getting close, he withdrew or changed the subject. Or her bloody phone rang.
‘You’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?’
Ellie blinked, realising she’d been in a trance. ‘Nope. I had no idea you were even talking.’
Mat snorted, but there was a certain understanding in her voice. ‘Love will do that to you every time.’
With those words, Ellie realised she’d never asked Matilda about her own loves. She must have had a few in her time – she wouldn’t be surprised if she’d had one in each port – and it seemed strange now that they’d never covered this ground. She wanted to ask, but –
‘I’ve had a few special men in my life, you know,’ Mat announced.
Ellie knew better than to be surprised by Mat’s telepathy. ‘You’ve never mentioned them,’ she said.
Matilda settled back into the cushions. ‘Most of them were long ago. Just flings in my late teens and early twenties, but there was one …’ She took a moment, clearing her throat before continuing. ‘He ruined me for anyone else. He’s not easy to talk about.’
It sounded dramatic but Ellie understood. She’d been on odd dates in Sydney – trying to prove to herself that she’d recovered from the nightmare in Perth. But it wasn’t that memory that stopped her getting intimate with anyone else; it was her comparing every suitor to Flynn.
‘I’d like to hear about him,’ she said.
Mat nodded and gestured to the now-empty mugs on the table. ‘And I would like to tell you, but we’ll need a refill. This is not a short story.’
Ellie stood and picked up the mugs. ‘I’ll be right back.’
Five minutes later, they were both settled on the couch again, one at each end, Matilda’s ankle propped up on a burgundy-and-gold pouf. Ellie had also brought in a box of chocolates, and rested it between them. In her limited opinion, it was always good to have ample chocolate options when discussing loves lost. Mat took one immediately, unwrapped it, smoothed out the paper and then carefully chewed it before speaking.
‘His name was Tom. And he was my first love. We were in high school together. Crazy about each other. I can blame him for never becoming the doctor or lawyer my parents hoped I would. Having my tongue down his throat wa
s far more interesting than having my nose in a book.’
Ellie sniggered and took a sweet. She popped it in her mouth and sucked off the chocolate while Matilda continued.
‘He was younger than me by a year but not to look at. He was so … built, so charismatic.’ Ellie couldn’t help but notice that Mat used the same word she’d used for Flynn. ‘We stayed together through my last year of high school, and then his, but then he got a scholarship for a university in Melbourne, and I was in my second year of English in Perth. We decided it would be best to try and see other people.’ She paused. ‘Okay, he decided. It broke my heart, especially when, as we kept in touch and stayed friends – best friends – he wrote to me about girls he’d take to the theatre and to swanky restaurants. Still, through all his liaisons, I was his only constant. And he mine. As I said, best friends. I held on to the hope that one day he’d realise we were meant to be together. Forever.’
‘But he didn’t?’ Hearing about Mat’s broken heart almost felt as if it were happening to her.
‘Oh yeah, he did,’ Mat nodded, confusing Ellie. ‘But by that time, I was engaged to Dougal.’
‘Dougal? Hang on, you were married?’
‘Don’t sound so surprised,’ Mat tsked.
‘Nothing should surprise me about you, but it does. Why hasn’t anyone ever mentioned it? Did Rhiannon know?’
‘It was long before I landed in Hope. Everyone here assumes I’m a crazy old spinster, and I have quite a lot of fun playing that part.’ Her smile was a little bit wicked. ‘And sure, your mother knew. Dougal was a mutual family friend, but Rhiannon wasn’t interested in anyone’s romances but her own.’
‘Don’t I know it.’ Ellie didn’t bother to hide the bitterness in her voice. ‘Forget Rhiannon, I want to know more about Tom, and Dougal.’ She crossed her legs.
‘I started seeing Dougal when I realised Tom was a lost cause. Dougal was five years older than me. He was a lovely, kind-hearted banker, but not very exciting. He didn’t ever make me feel the way Tom did. But I wanted to have a family, kids, a house and a picket fence, so I gave Dougal a chance. When he asked me to marry him, I settled. I said yes.’
Jilted Page 16
