‘I’ll get Lawson to help me,’ she lied. ‘Thanks for spending the day with me at such short notice.’
Sandra beamed as she put her hand on Tab’s stomach. ‘It was our absolute pleasure. I hope we can do it again sometime.’
Tab chuckled. ‘I think I’ll need to give my Visa time to recover first but I’ll let you know when I’m here for my next ultrasound and maybe we can do lunch again.’
‘It’s a date,’ said her dad, leaning in to give her a hug. ‘Text me when you get back to Rose Hill to let me know you got home safely. I do worry about you all alone out there.’
‘I’m fine,’ she said, ‘but I’ll text, I promise.’
The drive home was carefree. Tab listened to an audio book rather than risk hearing Ryder’s voice on the radio, and managed to only think about Fergus a couple of times.
When she arrived back at the tea rooms there was a car parked on the street.
‘I’m sorry, we’re closed today,’ she said, pulling up on the side of the road to talk to the couple in their early sixties standing out the front of the building.
‘Oh.’ The woman blinked. ‘We have a booking to stay here for the night.’
Shoot! In the aftermath of her evening shenanigans, she’d completely forgotten she was expecting guests this afternoon, or was this the infamous pregnancy brain kicking in? Thank God the beds were always clean and the rooms ready in case of last-minute bookings.
‘I’m so sorry, of course. I …’ She shook her head. ‘Let me just park around the back and I’ll come let you in.’
The man lifted a hand. ‘No worries. Take your time.’
Despite his words, Tab hurried to park and then hurried inside and through the building, grabbing the keys to the guest suites on her way to the front door.
‘Welcome to Rose Hill,’ she said as she stepped out onto the verandah. ‘I hope you weren’t waiting too long.’
‘No, not at all,’ said the woman with a warm smile.
Thank God they didn’t seem the type to complain, Tab thought as she showed the couple, Shirley and Fred King, through to their rooms.
‘This is so quaint,’ Shirley said, looking around the bedsit, which was decorated like something from early nineteenth-century Australia, in keeping with the age of the building.
‘Thanks.’ Tab smiled. ‘The credit has to go to my sister-in-law Meg; she’s got a knack for design. Now, are you okay for dinner?’ Occasionally she offered to cook for her guests but tonight she just wanted to get stuck into building furniture. ‘There’s not much open in Walsh on Monday nights, but the IGA is open till six and as there are no other guests, the kitchen in here is all yours. I can do breakfast for you any time between seven and ten o’clock, and can either bring it in here or you can come across to the tea rooms.’
They agreed to come to her just after eight, then Tabitha left them to settle in. Surprisingly, despite the drive and the full day shopping, she wasn’t feeling too tired and was itching to get started on all the furniture, so she headed back to the van to start bringing it all inside.
The smaller items were easy—she was used to carrying things with only one arm—but the flat-pack cot, rocking chair and change table proved more of a challenge. Tab cursed and wiped sweat off her brow with the back of her hand as she stared into the van at the three large boxes remaining. Frustrated, she went inside to grab a Stanley knife and returned to slip open the first box.
‘Hello!’ Fred’s voice startled her as he appeared at the back gate.
One side of a cot under her arm, she looked up at him. ‘Do you need something?’
‘I was actually coming to ask you the same.’ He nodded towards the back of the van, full of open cardboard boxes with wooden parts spilling out. ‘Want a hand getting this lot inside?’
Tab knew he meant well but she bristled as she always did at the offer of help. She hated admitting defeat but she also didn’t want to be rude.
At her hestitation, he added, ‘Someone in your condition shouldn’t be carrying all this heavy stuff on their own. Let me help, love.’
It took her a second to realise he was looking at her stomach, not her little arm, and she glowed, overjoyed she now looked pregnant enough for people to tell. And he was right—even if she did have two functional hands, carrying such heavy boxes probably wouldn’t be a smart move in her current state. ‘Thank you, that would be wonderful.’
Together, they carried everything upstairs into the baby’s room, Fred asking questions about the building and Rose Hill as they went. He was fascinated by the history of the town and wanted to know if it really was haunted as he’d heard. Tab enjoyed telling him the story of Eliza.
‘You should get a ghost expert down here. There’s some paranormal investigators in Perth who’ve made a TV show; they might be interested in taking a look.’
‘I’ll give it some thought,’ Tab promised, knowing she and Meg would never invite any such people to disturb Eliza’s peace.
When they were done, she offered him a drink but Fred said he’d better be getting back to Shirley, who was making them bangers and mash for dinner. ‘Would you like to join us, love? I’m sure there’s plenty.’
‘Thanks,’ she said, glancing around the nursery, ‘but I’m going to get stuck in here.’
‘Okay then, see you in the morning.’
Tab walked Fred to the door and then made herself a cheese sandwich, which she ate quickly before heading back upstairs. Although starting to tire, she was eager to assemble everything and see her baby’s room begin to take shape. Hopefully if she kept busy until she was absolutely exhausted, she’d not only make good progress, but be too tired for a certain man to haunt her dreams tonight.
The instructions were easy enough—she’d built enough flat packs in her time with her dad and Lawson—but it soon became apparent that putting everything together one-handed was not.
She startled as two pieces of the cot, which she thought she’d just managed to put together, fell apart, thumping loudly against the carpet. Dammit. She curled her fingers into a fist as tears sprung into her eyes. She was going to have to ask Lawson or Meg to help her, and there was nothing she hated more than having to ask for help.
Thursday afternoon when Fergus drove into the sporting grounds for cricket training, his heart jolted at the sight of Tabitha’s ice-cream van parked on the edge of the oval. He hadn’t seen her since she’d walked out of his house Sunday night, but that didn’t mean she’d been far from his mind. He’d thought of her way more than he should—every day when he drove into town past their farm sign, whenever he helped Ned with something in class, at night when he was by himself with nothing but the company of a cat that hated him, and he thought of her when he finally fell into bed because his sheets still smelled of her sweetness.
He should probably change said sheets but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do so. He’d been half-hoping to run into her this week and half-fearing it—not knowing how he could ever act normal again now they’d done what they’d done. But he’d assumed Ned wouldn’t be playing cricket for a while because of his arm, and therefore Tab wouldn’t have any reason to help. He’d been wrong on both accounts, and confronting her again now, in front of most of his class and half of their parents, gave him heart palpitations.
Taking a deep breath, Fergus got out of his car and walked around the back to grab the training kit. His hands were suddenly slippery with sweat and it took him two attempts to open the boot, and then he grabbed the bag so awkwardly he almost dropped it on the ground. Shit, he needed to pull himself together or he’d never get through the next hour.
Shoving his keys in his pocket, he carried the gear across to the kids and the women who were gathered on the grass. The mums turned to look at him and he felt certain each and every one of them knew exactly what he and Tabitha had done. But that was unlikely. He didn’t think she’d kiss and tell; she had, after all, been the one to try to warn him about the nature of other women in to
wn—how ironic was that?
‘G’day,’ he said to the group and then cringed. Who actually said ‘g’day’?
Thankfully, no one appeared to think this odd, all replying with variations of hello, including Tabitha who said, ‘Hi Fergus.’
His name had never sounded so appealing. He’d not met her gaze until now but, at her words, he forced himself to. Perhaps it was like ripping off a bandaid, better to get it over and done with fast.
‘Hello, Tabitha.’
Nope. None of the tension flooding his body evaporated as their eyes met. Did she get more gorgeous every time he saw her? He hoped his words didn’t sound choked because one look at her and every muscle in his body tightened. It was like the past few days were stripped away and once again they were alone in his house on Sunday night.
His cheeks burned at the thought and hers flushed a lovely soft pink as if she too were thinking along the same torrid lines. Dear God. It was all he could do not to storm across the grass and take her into his arms.
He forced himself to break their gaze, looking to Ned instead. ‘You come to cheer on the team?’
The boy gave him a what-kind-of-question-is-that look. ‘No, I’ve come to train. I heard Brunswick kicked your butts last week and we can’t let that happen again. Right, guys?’
Ferg couldn’t help laughing at the determination in Ned’s voice and the faces of his little mates as they roared in agreement. ‘But what about your arm?’
‘If Aunty Tab can play cricket with only one full arm, I’ll be fine with a broken one. Please, let me play?’
At this request, Fergus chanced a glance at Tabitha again. ‘Are Lawson and Meg okay with this?’
She nodded and smiled. ‘He wouldn’t be here if they weren’t. And what’s the worst thing that can happen? He breaks his other arm, but if we don’t let him do this, we’ll never hear the end of it.’
‘Okay.’ He looked down at Ned, thinking that this was one amazing family or maybe it was just that country folks were indeed tougher than their city counterparts. ‘Let’s do this. Give me one lap round the oval to warm up, everyone.’
As the kids shot off, the mums moved to the edge of the oval, leaving he and Tabitha alone. He wondered if he should mention the other night or completely ignore it. What would make things less awkward between them?
Up close, she was still gorgeous, but he couldn’t help notice she also looked exhausted, pale, but with dark circles under her eyes. He wondered if the pregnancy was taking its toll, or if it was the stress of the upcoming show, or if, like him, she hadn’t been able to sleep properly the last few nights. Possibly a combination of all three. Whatever the reason, she looked like she needed a rest far more than she needed to be here helping him, but he dared not suggest this for fear she’d think he didn’t believe her capable again, or worse, that he didn’t want her here.
Neither was anywhere close to the truth. He wanted her here—he wanted her full stop, more than he cared to admit.
So, he chose not to acknowledge what had gone between them. ‘You do realise that we’ll need a miracle for this lot to even come close to winning.’
She rewarded him with one of her bewitching smiles. ‘Oh ye of little faith. They might not have a heap of skill or talent, but what they lack in that department, they sure as hell make up for in enthusiasm. Determination can go a long way, and they have us.’
Ferg chuckled, pretending he wasn’t at all affected by the way this glorious woman said ‘us’. ‘I guess you’re right. How’s your week been anyway?’
She sighed. ‘Busy.’
‘You do look tired.’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘That’s really just a polite way of saying I look crap, right? I’m beginning to think this whole pregnancy-glow thing is an urban myth.’
‘No. I …’ Damn, why did he have such a habit of putting his foot in his mouth around her? ‘You never look crap, I promise.’
Her cheeks flushed at his words.
‘We should set up the drills,’ Tabitha said, dropping her gaze. Was he imagining the breathlessness in her voice?
He nodded. ‘Yeah, good idea.’ Then he turned to the bag to grab the marker cones. As he handed them to her, their hands brushed in the exchange and the hairs rose on the back of his neck. How the hell was he supposed to get through an hour in her company without succumbing to the urge to touch her again?
‘Thanks,’ she replied, quickly turning away and beginning to set out her cones on the ground. This was the third time they’d done this now, so they didn’t need to discuss anything, which was probably a good thing. The less he had to look at her right now, the better.
Thankfully, just as they were finishing, Victoria arrived beside them, so they didn’t have to make further attempts at conversation.
‘I won,’ she shrieked, barely puffing. Just because she couldn’t bat or throw a ball to save her life, didn’t mean she wasn’t a good runner.
Ferg looked at Tabitha and could tell she was also stifling a laugh. He looked back to the little girl. ‘Well, it wasn’t a competition but if you run that fast on Saturday, maybe we will win. We’re certainly going to give it our best shot, aren’t we, gang?’ he said as the rest of the kids gathered back around them.
They all erupted into cheers, jumping up and down in excitement—Tabitha wasn’t wrong about their enthusiasm.
‘Okay,’ he shouted, trying to get their attention again. ‘If we’re going to do this, I need you all to listen really hard today; we need to work together as a team. Every one of you has strengths and we’re going to play to them. Understand?’
The expressions on their faces turned serious as they nodded solemnly. Once again, he and Tabitha split the groups in two and he concentrated on the kids, making a concerted effort not to glance too often at Tabitha.
At half time they took a quick break for oranges. Ferg devoured a few slices, relishing the juicy sweetness and not thinking at all about how much he’d rather be tasting his assistant coach. Then they played a game, splitting up the kids randomly: Tabitha in charge of one group and he the other.
‘May the best team win,’ she said, tipping her cap to him and winking mischievously. The effect of this small gesture travelled straight to his groin.
‘Oh, we will,’ he managed. Then, trying not to stare at her butt as she led her lot over to the sidelines, he turned to his team. ‘Right, spread out. Positions everyone. Jimmy, you’re bowling first.’
Although it was only a scratch match, the kids gave one hundred and ten per cent. Even Milly Wellington, who couldn’t seem to understand one end of the bat from the other, managed to hit the ball far enough to score a few runs. You had to laugh watching them play, talking tactics with each other like they were playing for their country. His and Tabitha’s eyes met across the top of the little heads on more than one occasion, and each time he felt more than just the jolt of amusement between them.
‘Team, you were amazing,’ Ferg addressed the kids as they came together at the end, and he meant it. Under his and Tabitha’s careful instruction and encouragement, both sides had scored a number of runs and the kids all appeared to have improved over the hour. It would still take a miracle for them to win, but maybe they wouldn’t lose as dismally as they had the previous week. He finished his pep talk and turned to Tabitha standing beside him, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off her. Or maybe the heat was all him. ‘You got anything to add, assistant coach?’
She held up a finger. ‘Just one thing … who wants ice-cream?’
‘Me!’ the kids squealed in unison, already rushing over to the van to line up.
Ferg chuckled. ‘Want some help?’ He wasn’t exactly sure what he could do, but the question had just rolled off his tongue. Maybe doing something mundane would help cool him down a little. Failing that, he could always eat some ice-cream.
‘Sure.’ Tabitha smiled and they started off after the kids. ‘We make a good team,’ she added as they approached the va
n.
He felt ridiculously pleased by her words.
‘Don’t tell Terry, but I think the kids have already improved under your coaching. I’m disappointed I won’t be able to see the match on Saturday.’
‘I’ll take lots of photos,’ he promised.
‘Do you call this an orderly line?’ Tab scolded the kids and they all immediately formed one. She’d make a good teacher, he thought.
She opened the back of her van and Ferg held the door, then climbed up inside after her, closing it behind them. There wasn’t a whole lot of room for two of them in there and it was pitch black.
‘I’ll just open the hatch,’ she said, but as she went to do so their bodies collided.
Tabitha stilled. ‘Sorry,’ she whispered, her breath warm against his cheeks.
His eyes were beginning to acclimatise to the darkness. ‘Are you really?’
A second later they were kissing; all the heat that had been building up between them over the last hour expelled into each other’s mouths as he slid his hands into her hair and drew her close. Their bodies moulded together and Tabitha let out a little whimper of pleasure that turned him on like nothing ever had before.
He pulled back slightly, still clasping her face as he looked her straight in the eye. ‘I don’t think one time was enough.’
She nodded. ‘But we can’t do it here.’
At her breathy declaration, he glanced around. Sure the space was tiny, but the way he was feeling right now, he reckoned he could manage anywhere.
As if she could read his mind, she laughed softly. ‘I meant because of the kids.’
‘Shit, right.’ He let out a sigh, having almost forgotten where they were—despite the faint noise of excitable children just outside.
‘But,’ she brushed her lips lightly across his, ‘this won’t take long, then I’ll drop Ned home and head round to yours.’
It wasn’t a question but he nodded anyway, then took another quick breath, trying to cool himself as she finally opened the hatch. Light spilled into the small space and Ferg barely had a chance to take in the inside of the van before Ned’s little face appeared.
Something to Talk About (Rose Hill, #2) Page 19
