by Ann Grech
Delectable
gold coast nights book one
Ann Grech
Copyright © Ann Grech 2017.
All rights reserved. The author asserts her moral rights in this work. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organisations, trademarks and incidents are either entirely fictional or, if they are real, are used in a fictional sense. Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book is protected under the copyright laws of Australia. No part of this work may be used, reproduced, scanned, transmitted or distributed by any person or entity in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording and faxing or by any information storage and retrieval system.
This book may not be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of Ann Grech, except in the case of a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages for the sake of a review, written for inclusions in a magazine, newspaper, journal or online blog – and these cases require written approval from Ann Grech prior to publication. Any reproduction or other unauthorised use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author. Any reproduction, scan, transmission or distribution consented to must contain the cover as approved by the author and this copyright page.
Edited by; Hot Tree Editing
Book Layout ©2017 BookDesignTemplates.com
Cover Design: Simply Defined Art
Cover models: Korey Williams, Tara Jiggins and CK
Cover Photography: Melissa Mackley and Rachael Wilson
Contact Ann Grech on: [email protected]
Delectable/ Ann Grech. —1st ed.
Contents
Blurb
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Thank you bonus
Dictionary
ONE
Connor
Levi
Katy
TWO
Connor
Levi
Katy
THREE
Connor
Levi
Katy
FOUR
Levi
Connor
FIVE
Katy
Levi
SIX
Connor
Katy
SEVEN
Levi
Connor
EIGHT
Connor
Katy
NINE
Katy
Levi
TEN
Connor
Katy
ELEVEN
Levi
TWELVE
Connor
EPILOGUE
Katy
Song list
About Ann Grech
Other books by Ann Grech
Blurb
Connor
I owe everything to Levi. Everything. So when I fell for his girl, I did the only thing a good mate would do. I left. Ran. Six years in that hell hole trying to forget, trying to let them live and love each other. But I couldn’t stay away any longer.
And now I’m realizing it wasn’t just her I’d fallen for.
Levi
He left us—spent years defending our country. He’s far more honourable than me. While I was living in paradise, happy, and in love with my gorgeous girl, he's been facing horrors I can't even imagine. It nearly broke me knowing he was there, and Katy and I were here.
Twenty years we’ve known each other. I’ve grown a lot in those years. But one thing hasn't changed from the first day we met: we're still inseparable.
Now I’m beginning to understand how, in another life, we could have been so much more.
Katy
Levi’s the love of my life, my soulmate. And life is good. We’re so damn lucky… blessed to have found each other. But there’s a “but”. There always is.
We’ve spent six years waiting, in limbo. Connor was fighting to make the world a better place, and we were incomplete without him. When he left, he took a piece of my heart.
Now he’s back.
Dedication
To all of you who have joined the good fight, who are voting ‘yes’.
And please vote. Tick the ‘yes’ box and post the survey back before it’s due.
Make this one count, Australia. We need marriage equality.
Acknowledgements
I’m blessed with a group of people around me every day who are amazing in every way. To my hubby and boys, I love you. You guys put up with so much scatterbrainedness (yes, I know that’s not a word) from me and you do it with a smile. I love you always and forever. You are my world.
My gorgeous friend Kariss Stone and the ladies from Hot Tree Editing for your critiques and editing and the ever stunning Maci Dillon for everything you do to keep me in line and professional-looking. I adore you ladies; I’m privileged to work with you.
Ann Grech’s A-Team (it’s crazy that I even have one member of this fan group, never mind how many of you there actually are), I love all of you. You make me smile, inspire me, motivate me and keep me honest. And the amount of promo you all do astounds me every day. I’m so honoured that you’d take the time out of your day to do that for me. Thank you guys and girls from the bottom of my heart. I hope that this one makes you proud.
To Tara, Korey and CK for your modelling and Mel and Rachael for your insane photography skills. Thank you for the awkwardness, the laughs and most of all a set of photos that I’m so in love with it’s not funny. And Jay Aheer. Ever since I laid eyes on one of your covers, I was desperate to work with you. And the magic you weaved, made it totally worth the wait. My cover. Sigh.
Also, a special thanks to three readers who helped me out of a tight spot in choosing songs that were perfect for Nick’s birthday scene—Jacqueline Thorgood, Natalie Miernicki and Susan Reeves—you ladies came up with the goods!
There are so many other people who I’m grateful to—the bloggers, readers and fans just to name a few. Your support, your selfless help blows me away every time. Thank you.
Ann xx
Thank you bonus
Thank you for being one of the first people to buy Delectable. Sign up here for your extra bonus scene.
Glossary
This story is set on the Gold Coast, Australia. It uses Australian English. There are some terms that you wouldn’t have heard of before, so I’ve set out a few for you. If you come across more, let me know and I’ll try to explain our slang. You might also want to take a peek at my website – I’ll add more there as they come up.
Arvo – afternoon.
Barbie – barbecue. Outdoor griller for meats.
Cockroach supporter – one of those sad sacks who support the New South Wales Blues (or Cockroaches) in the Origin.
Dole – financial aid paid by the Australian government for people who are out of work.
Esky – a cooler for drinks and food that you fill with ice.
Footy – rugby league, a full contact sport played between two teams for two forty minute halves where the objective is to score more than the other team by carrying the ball over the ‘try line’ and, after making a try, kicking the ball between the posts to add an extra two points to the score (called a conversion).
Goldie – Gold Coast.
Kitchen bench – kitchen counter or countertop.
Mobile – cell phone.
Origin – a footy match between New South Wales and the almighty Queensland Maroons (or Cane Toads) in which Queensland kicks New South Wales arses regularly (because we’re that much better ;-) ). With every year’s competition, the entire state of New South Wales whinges about how the referees unfairly gave away too many penalties to Queensland (they don’t—we’re just
better. The record doesn’t lie—since 2000, Queensland has won thirteen of the eighteen series).
Pj’s – pyjamas.
Saltie – saltwater crocodile.
Smoko break – morning or afternoon tea.
Snags – sausages.
Starkers – naked.
Straddie – South Stradbroke Island, a sand island that forms the eastern most boundary of the Broadwater on the Gold Coast.
The King – Wally ‘The King’ Lewis. The King is known as Queensland’s greatest ever Origin player captaining the Maroons in 30 matches.
Thongs – flip flops.
Track pants – sweats.
Tough Mudder – one of the world’s toughest mud runs. See https://toughmudder.com.au/ for the Aussie version.
Ute – a pickup truck.
ONE
Connor
C onnor gave a barely perceptible nod as he greeted Rob, as the other man snuck through the doorway of the crumbling stone building. Following orders to find and neutralize the terrorist insurgents in the area, Connor’s unit had fanned out and crept around the dusty shell, scoping out the landscape.
He pushed his combat helmet up a little and wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He’d never get used to the Afghan heat. And it’d been a scorcher. The dry desert wind was so hot it was like breathing in fire, and over summer, it didn’t quit for months on end. The long days were always the same—sun beating down on them from dawn to dusk. The nights were just as bad, with temperatures hardly dropping. Connor often lay under the squeaky fan in their bunk room—the same one that barely circulated the oppressive hot air—and dreamed of the ocean breezes back home.
Drawing his assault rifle up high, Connor looked through the scope, methodically checking the roofline and each of the windows of the squat buildings surrounding them. Even though air support had confirmed there were signs of recent activity, nothing out of the ordinary was visible from the laneway.
While Rob double-checked the same line Connor had just scoped out, he whispered, “You rocked ‘Everlong’ last night.” The Foo Fighters classic was one of Connor’s favourites, but he’d only managed to nail it the night before, sitting in the mess hall of the Allied Forces compound. He grinned. They’d had fun—Rob playing a jerry-rigged set of drums and him on an acoustic guitar singing their hearts out.
“You’ve got mad skills on the buckets, but that singing? Damn, it was shithouse.” At Connor’s playful jab, Rob snickered, the unit falling silent once more as they continued their watch.
Connor shuffled forward a little and pivoted, Rob mirroring his movement so they checked each other’s lines before spinning back around so he could move again. Taking that single step put him in front of what used to be a window, the building now open to the elements. Through it, Connor saw another window and beyond that, the alleyway around the corner where they would regroup with the other half of their unit.
In the eerie near silence, he heard the click of a firing pin being cocked. It echoed through his brain as loud as a gunshot, setting every nerve ending on high alert. Who did it? And then he spied him. The person—he guessed a man—was covered with a sand-coloured blanket. The slightest movement of the malleable material caught his attention. Almost directly ahead, two stories above them. Silently, Connor signalled for the others, pointing to where he had seen the enemy. Hyperaware of his surroundings, he didn’t take his eyes off the target. Time slowed, as did his heartbeat while Connor readied his weapon, flicking off the safety. His hands rocksteady, he waited for the order to engage. It would only be given when they were certain no unarmed locals would be caught in a gunfight.
Next to him, Rob dropped to one knee and raised the gun scope to his eye. “Insurgent, rooftop, at one o’clock,” he whispered, his throat mic transmitting the broadcast to the other men in their unit.
“Hold your cover,” their commanding officer ordered.
A couple of barely audible shuffles on the hard-packed earth behind Connor was the only indication that the men in his unit adjusted their positions, covering their six. More locations were given, more of their foes identified. They weren’t surrounded, but they might as well have been. And his unit had been given a hold order. Powerless to do anything but wait until they got more intel, this was the part he hated.
The wait and see game they were playing had Connor on edge, ratcheting up the tension. Their commanding officer’s shouted order, “Fire at will,” shattered the relative calm before the storm. His timing couldn’t have been any better scripted, barely a second before the coordinated movement of blankets sliding off weapons happened before their eyes. The insurgents made the mistake of exposing their positions, leaving Connor and the other soldiers to pick them off. Strategically hidden, their Australian Army unit was as protected as they could be in a war zone. The mud and clay houses surrounding them took the majority of fire as the deep boom of their assault rifles rent the air. The recoil from each shot Connor let loose was enough to dislocate an inexperienced shooter’s arm. But Connor had been trained by the best. And the six years’ experience he’d had in hell holes just like this one kept his shooting arm rocksteady under fire.
All hell broke loose as their fire was returned, the unmistakeable tinny clatter of the enemy’s AK47s drowned out by the boom of their more powerful weapons. The acrid smell of cordite filled his nose until he could taste it, dust and smoke creating a haze around them. The danger and adrenaline were like a shot to his heart, kick-starting it into a pounding rhythm. His brothers and sisters in arms let rip with their full arsenal, and Connor panned his gun, searching for his next target. Instinctively, his sight was drawn back to the spot where he’d initially seen movement only moments earlier. The glint of metal winked in the sunlight, capturing his eye. It wasn’t the weapon he’d seen. It was something else—a ring perhaps, or a watch. But there was no mistaking the outline of the launcher and the rocket attached to it.
“RPG.” he yelled, depressing the trigger on his rifle to neutralize the target.
“Take cover,” his commanding officer yelled, rounding his weapon and firing with Connor in the direction of the rooftop. Their bullets hit their mark, a patch of scarlet blossoming out over the sand-coloured clothing worn by the enemy shooter. Bullets zinged past Connor, his latest shot exposing his position to the insurgents.
An almighty explosion tore through the alley before them, the shockwave launching Connor into the air. He hit the wall hard, driving the air from his lungs. His body reeled from the impact. The instant thump of his head and his vision—foggy around the edges—told him his combat helmet had taken a hit that would otherwise have scrambled his brains. The ringing in his ears was a piercing scream, increasing in frequency until it made him nauseous. Winded, he struggled to take a breath, panic involuntarily welling inside him. Sure, he’d been injured before, but never incapacitated. And he was a sitting duck until he could think straight and get his body to cooperate. Disoriented, Connor fought the fear and took stock of his surroundings. Now inside the building he’d been using as shelter, he was safe for the moment. But he was also trapped, having to traverse past the open windows to get back to his former position. Connor lifted his gun—held to him with the strap attached to his flack vest—checking it would still fire. The screaming pain of flesh tearing had him gasping for breath and looking over his shoulder. He was impaled on a piece of jagged glass, wedged in tight under the Kevlar protecting his body.
The gunfight continued around him, but it faded to white noise when the dust cleared enough that he could see Rob’s convulsing form. Limbs splayed at an awkward angle like a ragdoll had been dropped onto the floor, Rob’s muscles spasmed. No. No, no, no. Connor gritted his teeth and fought another wave of nausea when he pulled away, dislodging the glass from his shoulder.
Still dizzy, he then crawled over to his friend, forgetting about the danger lurking outside. Blood oozed from Rob’s neck, the crimson stain on his uniform growing unchecked with e
ach beat of Rob’s heart. Horror filled Connor. He couldn’t lose his friend. He wouldn’t. Rob struggled, fighting to take a rasping breath as blood pooled around him. It was like a horror movie, but one that Connor couldn’t press Pause on, one he knew he’d never forget. Every memory of Rob laughing, of the warm glow of pure love Rob got when talking about his wife, of every prank and every serious moment they’d shared over the years hit Connor with the force of a Mack truck. He had to save him. “Stick with me, mate. I’m gonna get you outta here.” Connor frantically pressed a hand down on Rob’s bloodied throat, trying desperately to stem the bleeding while he searched for a safe exit. He needed to get Rob out of there, needed to get him to safety. Oh God, no. Please, please let him be okay.
“Con, left pocket. For Molly.” Rob’s voice came out with a distinctive gurgle, blood pooling in his wind pipe, quickly drowning him. Tears sprang to Connor’s eyes, his heart shattering into a million pieces. This man had been his brother and his confidant since basic training. He couldn’t lose him. Connor loved him like family. A piece of him died as the light in his friend’s eyes began to fade.
“Live. Go home to them,” Rob gasped, forcing the words out while his body shut down. He stilled slowly, but Connor knew the instant he’d lost him. With shaky hands, he closed Rob’s eyelids. Taking a steadying breath, Connor nodded, psyching himself up. He took the folded note from Rob’s top left pocket—the one directly over his heart—and stuffed it in his jacket. He kissed the other man’s forehead, resting his own against it.
“Rest easy, my friend. I’ll take you home.”
Sucking in another breath and compartmentalizing the pain of loss so fresh it hadn’t properly sunk in yet, Connor raised his gun again and crept to the nearest window. It wasn’t revenge pulsing through his veins, but justice. Rob’s killers weren’t going to get to face court though. He’d pick off each and every one of them, leaving them bloodied in the dirt to protect his other brothers and sisters. Through the magnification on the scope, he made out shadows inside the building closest to the other half of his separated unit. He fired, pausing only to check that his target dropped before moving onto the next.
