Just for Now: Escape to New Zealand Book Three

by Rosalind James

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” she told him sincerely. “What about your family, Alan?”

  He nodded. “They’re coming. Reckon they’re our family now. And we’ll have heaps of friends there too, of course.”

  She smiled a little painfully. “I know you’ll have those. But I need to get back now, give the kids their tea.” She saw Jeremy reach for her, then hesitate.

  “I guess it’s time,” she decided. She leaned forward and gave each man a hug. “I’m not ready to dance at your wedding. But I’m trying to be happy for you.” She blinked the tears away and made her way across the bridge, walking quickly now, just wanting to get away.

  This bridge was bad luck for her. This wasn’t the first difficult encounter she’d had here. She remembered the Saturday afternoon she’d run into her mother-in-law, Victoria, a few months after she’d left Jeremy. Kiwis might be known for their friendly, down-to-earth nature, but Victoria had never let that stop her.

  “Jenna.” Victoria had looked her over with her usual critical gaze. Her own attire, as always, was impeccable: black slacks and an apricot silk blouse that emphasized her stick-thin figure, her stylish blonde bob and flawless makeup making her look younger than her fifty-six years.

  “Victoria.” Jenna didn’t have to pretend anymore. She’d tried her best to be a good daughter-in-law, had bent over backwards to get along. And what had it got her? Nothing. She was done.

  “You’ve lost weight,” Victoria said grudgingly.

  “I’ve lost my appetite,” Jenna told her. “Being unhappy can do that, I hear.”

  Victoria stiffened. “And whose fault is that?”

  “I don’t know. Whose?” What could possibly be coming now?

  Victoria didn’t leave her in suspense. “Men don’t stray if they’re satisfied at home. You’ve started losing those extra kilos at last, I’ll grant you that. But maybe you should have thought of dieting a few years ago. Because if you’d worked harder to make yourself attractive, Jeremy wouldn’t have had to look elsewhere. William’s always been faithful, because I’ve never let myself go. Even though I’ve had three children.”

  “Excuse me?” Jenna asked blankly. “Aren’t you forgetting something? Do you really think there’s anything I could have done to make myself sexually attractive to your son?” And as for her father-in-law, she thought privately, she’d bet he had somebody tucked away somewhere. She couldn’t help hoping he did, anyway.

  Victoria waved a hand. “So Jeremy has other . . . urges. He married you, didn’t he? He could have gone the other way, if there’d been anything to hold him there. He had girlfriends while he was growing up. And you should have had children. I always said so.”

  The words hit Jenna like a slap in the face. She’d thought it would be better to face up to Victoria this time. Better than smiling and biting her tongue. But there was nothing more to be gained from this.

  “Ask him why we didn’t,” she got out. “I need to go.”

  “Don’t think you’re getting anything from him,” Victoria said warningly. “You signed an agreement, remember. I looked it over myself. It’s ironclad.”

  “Goodbye, Victoria.” Jenna walked away, shaken to the core. Why did Victoria dislike her so much? How was this her fault? It must have been easier to blame her than to accept the truth about her son. But that didn’t make it any easier to hear. She’d never been able to please the woman anyway. It was a wonder, given his mother, that Jeremy was as kind a person as he was.

  Not kind enough, or strong enough, she thought now, to have lived his life honestly, until he’d been forced into it. She found herself hoping, for his sake, that he could do that now. Jeremy had inherited his father’s softer nature, his easy charm. But he’d inherited his weakness as well.

  “Right,” she said as brightly as she could manage, walking into the hotel suite twenty minutes later. She’d stopped in the ladies’ toilet in the lobby to dash some water over her face and compose herself. “Who’s had a bath?”

  “We both have.” Harry jumped off the couch to greet her, pulling his attention away from Animal Planet. “Daddy gave me mine. We’re hungry, though. Is it tea soon?”

  “Very soon,” she assured him, dropping her purse and moving into the kitchen. “Finn, are you eating with us, or going out?”

  “Not enough energy to go out, even if I wanted to,” he admitted from his own spot on the couch, muting the wildlife documentary he’d been watching with Harry. “Think I’ll sit with this ice on my knee and watch you cook, if you have enough for me. Or we could order a takeaway if you’d rather. Easy as.”

  He looked searchingly at her, and she felt her chin wobble a bit as she turned hastily away.

  “No, I’m good,” she told him briskly after a moment. “Venison stir-fry. Very simple. Do you want a beer?”

  “I could murder a beer,” he said gratefully.

  Jenna felt better once she’d busied herself preparing quinoa and a simple meal of cubed venison and vegetables. By the time they sat down to eat, she had herself under control again.

  “Can we watch a movie?” Sophie asked after dinner was over.

  “May we,” Jenna corrected automatically.

  “May we watch a movie? Please?”

  “Your brother’s looking pretty tired,” Jenna decided. “We’ll put on a cartoon. If you’re still awake after that, you can read a bit. OK with you?” she belatedly asked Finn.

  “No worries,” he said. “Sounds good to me. I’ll get them settled.”

  Harry was looking decidedly droopy by the time teeth were brushed and the children tucked up in bed. “Are you sleeping in here with us, Daddy?” Sophie asked. “Or is Jenna?”

  “Me,” he told her firmly. “Reckon Jenna deserves the night to herself, anyway.”

  “Want some help with the washing-up?” he asked Jenna as he shut the door on their bedroom, the sound of the cartoon fading to a murmur.

  “No, thanks. Be done in a second.” She was already wiping down the benches after loading the dishwasher. “Here.” She reached into the freezer, handed him the icepack again.

  “Cheers.” He sank onto the couch and put the cold pack back on his knee with a sigh. “Come have a glass of wine. You look like you need it.”

  “You saw my purchase, huh?” she asked him with a wry smile. “Didn’t realize just how useful it’d be, when I bought it. Do you want some too?”

  “Wouldn’t say no.”

  “So now you know,” she told him as she handed him his glass of Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc and settled on the other end of the couch with her own, determined to address the scene she knew must be uppermost in his mind. “Why my marriage didn’t work.”

  “That would do it,” he agreed. “You didn’t know?”

  “Of course I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have stayed if I had. I just thought . . .” She flushed. “That he had, you know, a low sex drive. Or just wasn’t that attracted to me. Stupid, I realize that now. But at the time, it made sense.”

  “Why would it make sense?” he objected. “You’re a very attractive woman.”

  “I weighed more then, for one thing,” she reminded him. “I told you that. And the longer it went on, the more weight I gained. What you see now is the result of a lot of hard work. But I never felt very attractive, so it didn’t seem that strange to me, even at the beginning. ‘Low self-esteem.’” She made air quotes with her fingers, made a face. “Classic.”

  “He was the same at the beginning?” he asked with surprise. “And you married him anyway?”

  “He was my friend,” she tried to explain. “We had such a good time together. He was so funny, and when I was with him, I could laugh about things. All the messy stuff in my life. When I shared it with him, he made it all seem funny instead of, you know, kind of sad and sordid. We had a lot in common. Messed-up family backgrounds, being different, wanting another path for our lives. And the physical part . . .” She shrugged. “I never expected a man to be crazy about me t
hat way, so I wasn’t surprised that things never . . . heated up. Never got much beyond snuggling. I’ve heard women say they like that better. I don’t know, though. It didn’t do much for me.”

  “Never?” he frowned. “He isn’t bisexual, then?”

  “Don’t hold back. Go right ahead and ask.”

  “Sorry. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It was a shock to me too, though, seeing them. I’m glad I did. It explains things. Because I couldn’t imagine any man lucky enough to be married to you not wanting you.”

  She turned her head in surprise to look at him more fully. “Really? You really think that?”

  “Course I do. You’re sexy as hell, you love kids, you can cook . . . what more is there?”

  She couldn’t help laughing. “I didn’t realize the list was so short. Sexy as hell, though? That’s a new one.”

  “It is? Think any man—any straight man—would say that.”

  “Well, I guess that’s the answer,” she said ruefully. “Turns out I haven’t hung out with any straight men.”

  “None?” He looked startled. “Not even since you separated?”

  She flushed. “No. At least, you’ve seen the extent of it. I was still married until last week, remember? OK, separated, I know. But it’s still married, isn’t it? At least it was to me. I wasn’t feeling very desirable anyway, for a long time. Having your husband not want you can do that.”

  “OK. Going to ask again. Not at all?”

  “I think he told himself he was bisexual, like you said. He deceived himself as much as he deceived me, in the beginning. Almost,” she corrected. “He knew he was attracted to men, obviously. And he didn’t share that tidbit. I think he persuaded himself that he could be interested in me. But, as it turned out, not so much.”

  “Are you telling me you never had sex with him?” he asked bluntly. “You were married for, what? Five years?”

  “Three and a half, not counting these last two years. And no. Even I would have figured that one out. But it was never very much. In any sense. Less and less as time went on. I just wish I’d known why. It would have saved me a lot of pain.”

  “They invited me to their wedding,” she burst out, the tears coming to the surface again. “And I wish I could go. I really do. Whatever else he was, Jeremy was a good friend, at a time when I needed one. He got me out of Las Vegas and over here, which was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But when they told me that today . . .” She stopped, swallowed. “I’m still mad. I can’t help it. Because I wasted all those years. I wanted kids. That’s what I’ve wanted most in my life. The one thing. It doesn’t seem like too much to want, does it? And now I’m thirty. If he’d had the guts to tell me, I could have got out, tried again. But now . . .” She shrugged helplessly, the tears starting to spill over now. “Shoot.” She got up, grabbed a paper towel and wiped them away. “I need to go check the kids.”

  She returned a few minutes later, shutting the door quietly. “Fell asleep watching,” she told him with a determined calm. “They were up late last night, and they love being with you so much, today was a lot of excitement.”

  “And now,” she said, picking up her glass of wine, “I’m going to my room to read my book. I’ll let you relax. Quit telling you my sad story.”

  “Jenna.” Finn reached for her hand, pulled her down to sit beside him. “Don’t. I’m glad you told me. And I have something to say too.” He reached for the wine bottle and topped up both glasses. “I told you any man would be lucky. I meant that. Matter of fact, I’ve been wishing I’d be that lucky.”

  “You?” she faltered.

  “Yeh. Me. Didn’t you know?”

  “Sort of. Something,” she admitted. “But I’m not even close to your type, I know. You date women like Ashley.”

  “Not for a while now, if you’ve noticed.” He set down his wine glass, took hers from her hand, moved closer to her on the couch. Raised a hand to her face, cupped it in his palm. “Because I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

  She leaned into him as he came closer. Then his mouth was on hers, kissing her in a way Jeremy never had. Hungrily, his hand at the back of her head now. His other arm going around her, pulling her closer to him.

  “Open your mouth for me,” he murmured. She sighed and did as he asked, and his tongue was inside her mouth, diving and exploring as she melted into him.

  He pulled back at last, leaned his forehead against hers. “You have a great mouth. I’ve been waiting so long to do that. But it’s all of you. All of this.”

  His hand was moving down her side to her waist now, making her shiver. He outlined her lips with his tongue, slipped it inside her mouth again to taste her. She found herself falling back against the couch, lost in the feeling of his mouth on hers, his hands holding her so close. His mouth moved to her ear, kissing here there, taking the earlobe between his teeth to nip it, then moving down her neck to her throat.

  “Finn,” she groaned as he she felt his mouth on her neck, his teeth grazing her, his hand moving over her. “I can’t . . . we shouldn’t . . .”

  “I know,” he told her, his mouth on the sensitive spot where her neck met her collarbone, biting gently there, making her shiver and shift beneath him. “Bad idea. I know. Just a few minutes more. Just want to kiss you a little more, touch you. Then we’ll stop.”

  He went back to her mouth, his lips moving over hers until she was limp against him. His hand stroked her waist, moved up her side, closed at last on one round breast.

  “We shouldn’t,” she protested weakly. But his hand was exploring now, and she’d never felt anything like this, the heat of it. She held his shoulders, moved her hands down his arms. He felt so solid, so firm under her palms. She reached around to his back, felt the shifting planes of muscle there, tentatively moved her own tongue to touch his own. He groaned and reached under her sweater, touching her skin at last. She jumped at the feeling of his big hand against her bare skin, shivered as he slid it up to her breast, his hand moving inside her bra to hold her there, stroke her.

  She surrendered to the pleasure he was giving her for long minutes. Then pulled her mouth from his, put her hand on his arm, made a supreme effort and pushed him away.

  “Finn.” She wrenched herself up next to him. “We can’t. The kids are right there. And it’s a bad idea anyway. We can’t.”

  He let go of her with an effort of his own, leaned his head back against the couch cushions. “You’re right. Thought I could just kiss you, see what it felt like, finally. But geez. It’s like I’m fifteen again. On the couch and everything. And wanting you so much I can’t stand it.”

  “Me too,” she admitted shakily. “But not here. Not now.”

  “Right,” he groaned. “I know you’re right. But go to bed now. Because I can’t sit here with you anymore. We’ll be good in the morning. If you stay out here tonight, though, I’m going to touch you again. And if we go any further, it’s going to be even harder to stop.”

  Chapter 17

  “I may never want to travel by myself again,” Jenna told Finn the next morning over breakfast in Air New Zealand’s luxurious Koru Lounge in the Wellington Airport before their flight. “I’m going to miss this when I’m on my own again, down amongst the Regular People.”

  He laughed. “There are a few perks. Good thing, as much time as I spend in airports.”

  “Stop reading for a bit so you can finish your breakfast, Sophie,” Jenna admonished. “We’re going to be getting on the plane in a few minutes.”

  Sophie sighed as she reluctantly set Fantastic Mr. Fox aside and went back to her Weet-Bix, soggy now. “I’m just at the good part,” she complained.

  “You can look forward to finishing it on the plane, then,” Jenna told her firmly. “And in the queue, too. I know you. Stay close, OK? I don’t want to lose you because you’re walking and reading.”

  Harry looked up from his Zoobooks magazine, featuring sharks this time. “Will you read my
magazine to me on the plane, Jenna?”

  “Sure. Stick with me, buddy.” She smiled back at him, then reached over to push up his glasses. “We need to get these specs adjusted before we go to Dunedin. They keep falling down. And you’ll want to look your handsome best for your grandparents and all the rest of your relatives.”

  “Talking of that,” Finn told her, “my mum called this morning. She and Dad want to take the kids back to Motueka after the wedding, keep them there for the first week of the school holidays. My sister said she and Kieran—her husband—can bring them back up to Auckland. Give them a chance to take a couple days off as well. They run a holiday park, won’t have much opportunity to get away once we’re into spring. You’ll still need to fly down with the kids, but you could have a week’s holiday yourself. Stay in the South Island, if you want. A bit cold down there this time of year, but if you don’t mind that, you may enjoy it. I could help you work out places to stay. Or you can go back to the house, of course.”

  “Ah . . .” she looked at him, then down at her coffee cup. “We should talk about it.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “OK. I’ll still pay you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “That helps a lot,” she told him gratefully. “And that’s nice of you.”

  “Not really. I should’ve built in holiday pay anyway, just didn’t think of it.”

  Jenna nodded and began to help Sophie and Harry gather their belongings as the plane was called, while Finn shouldered the bags for the short trip to the gate.

  “I wish we didn’t have to go to school today,” Sophie complained as they climbed into the Range Rover in the Auckland Airport carpark after the brief flight.

  “You left early Friday, and you’re going in late today,” Jenna pointed out. “You’re going to be missing this Friday as well, and then it’s going to be all fun. You have to learn something before that happens.”

  “We went to the museum yesterday, though,” Sophie reminded her. “That was educational.”

  Jenna laughed. “That’s why I don’t feel bad about your missing the morning. And after dinner tonight, remember, we’re starting our new book, since we finished The Hobbit.”