Dedication
For all the girls at work, for reading my books!
Chapter One
All day long, the ground had rumbled beneath his feet.
Toby thought he’d grown used to the sensation of living atop some monstrous beast that stirred restlessly in its sleep, but even so, as he placed his groceries on the supermarket conveyor belt, he couldn’t help looking at the checkout assistant with alarm when the tiled floor trembled again.
She swiped an item across the scanner and smirked. “I’m guessing you’re new to Christchurch.”
He retrieved his wallet from his back pocket, not missing the amused glance from the young lad packing the carrier bags. “Actually, I’ve been here six weeks. I thought I’d got used to the shocks.”
“Don’t worry.” She met his gaze with a flirtatious bat of her eyelashes. “If there’s an earthquake, I’ll protect you.”
He grinned. She couldn’t be older than eighteen, and her tiny frame wouldn’t protect a mouse. “I might hold you to that. I scream like a girl when I’m scared, though, I have to warn you.”
She giggled and gestured to the keypad. “When you’re ready.”
He swiped his debit card. About ten feet away, a toddler yelled, echoing loud through the afternoon quiet of the supermarket, and he glanced around. The boy sat in a shopping trolley and clearly wanted to be somewhere else. His mother was trying to fasten his safety belt. The boy did not want it fastened.
Toby’s lips twisted. His own mother had told him how he used to show her up in supermarkets. She’d said people staring made it worse, so he was about to turn away when something about the woman caught his eye.
Average height and slender, she had sleek brown hair pulled off her face in a clip. She wore long brown pants and an orange top so bright it made him want to don his sunglasses. But the bag resting on her hip was what caught his attention. The slogan on the chocolate-brown material read Life is Short, Read Shakespeare and bore an illustration of the English bard.
There was more than one bag like that in the world, surely. It wasn’t her.
Having finally fastened the belt, she glanced over her shoulder.
Their eyes met. Toby inhaled sharply, his heart giving a gigantic thump as adrenalin surged through him. A vivid image of the woman lying naked, eyes closed in sublime pleasure as he thrust inside her, shot through his mind. Whoa. That was the quickest he’d achieved an erection since he was fourteen.
She stared at his face, and then her eyes widened as she obviously realised she wasn’t dreaming.
He couldn’t think what to do or say. The toddler squawked, but the woman remained staring at Toby, shock apparently freezing her feet to the floor. Even from across the aisle, he could see the flush fill her cheeks. So she remembered the holiday in Fiji too, then. She’d been so hot in bed, she’d almost set the covers alight.
He opened his mouth to say something—anything, conscious of the checkout assistant watching them both with amusement.
And then a huge bang shook the supermarket, and the world fell apart around him.
He ducked instinctively, swearing as the ground heaved. Crash after crash echoed through the building, shelves tipping and tins falling to the floor.
The checkout girl squealed and dropped to her knees, crawling under her till, and the packing lad ran around to join her. Toby froze, unable to believe his eyes as the tiled floor at the other end of the supermarket rose. The monster’s awake. The thought shot through his head crazily, and he ducked again as a nearby display of boxes exploded into the air as if it weighed no more than polystyrene.
A wail brought his attention back to the woman and the trolley, and with alarm he saw she was having trouble getting the toddler’s belt undone. Stepping over fallen bottles of bleach, he ran toward her and skidded to a halt by the trolley.
“I can’t get the fucking thing undone.” She tugged with panic at the plastic clip, trying to keep the wailing boy’s hands out of the way. “First I couldn’t fasten it and now it won’t come apart.”
Toby took the two sides of the belt in his hands and wrenched it open with brute force. He lifted the boy out of the trolley, tucked him under one arm, ignoring his squeals, and pushed her toward the exit. “Quick!”
They’d taken two steps when the ground split under the nearest shelving. The metal racks crashed down on top of the trolley, crumpling it as if it were made of tinfoil.
His heart in his mouth and the boy tight under his arm, Toby ran toward the exit. Even before they were halfway there, he realised they weren’t going to make it. The ground buckled ahead of them, spilling tins and packets across their path, and she stumbled and fell.
She pushed herself to her feet and then fell again as the ground heaved, throwing her off balance. Under his arm, the child cried out, clamping his arms and legs around Toby, and Toby tightened his grip, determined nothing was going to wrench the boy out of his arms.
He bent and put an arm around the woman’s waist and heaved her up, half-lifting and half-dragging her across to a table against the far wall. Pushing her underneath, he passed the child to her and then followed them under, covering them with his body as a horrendous bang echoed through the building.
Clouds of dust filled the aisles, and he put his hand over the boy’s nose and mouth as it blew over them. For a moment, he couldn’t catch his breath. Grit filled his mouth, and his lungs burned as he tried to inhale. A huge crack split the air, and something came crashing down onto the table. For a brief, scary moment, he thought the three of them were going to be squashed into a pancake. But the table held.
He’d tried to tuck his legs under and only realised he hadn’t been completely successful when something fell on his feet. Swearing loudly, he curled around the woman, pushing the boy between them, and held them both tightly as the world continued to wrench itself apart.
In all, it could only have lasted about forty seconds, but it felt like a lifetime. Toby had never been so scared. The noise was deafening, crashes and screams and hideous screeching sounds that must have been the twisting of metal beams, but made him think once again that somewhere beneath the earth’s surface giant medieval monsters were battling it out and ripping each other apart with giant teeth.
And then, all of a sudden, it stopped. In the distance, glass continued to shatter and displays crumbled. The ground trembled, but it stopped heaving and throwing them up in the air. For a moment, though, he stayed where he was, too frightened to move. Shit. He’d been in an earthquake. He couldn’t believe it.
Then, finally, he turned onto his back and pushed up onto his elbows. He had a vision of looking at the bottom half of his body and seeing his legs missing, but to his relief they were intact. He wiggled both feet, relieved when the worst he felt was a stinging where falling debris had bounced and grazed him.
Next to him the boy shifted, and Toby looked down, thankful to see both the toddler and his mother still in the land of the living. She pulled back and lifted the boy with urgent hands, presumably checking for blood and making sure he was breathing. He coughed and rubbed his grit-filled eyes with his tiny fists, but he didn’t cry.
“Thank God,” she whispered, clutching him to her.
Her eyes, huge in her dust-streaked face, met Toby’s over the boy’s head. It couldn’t have been a less romantic setting. Toby knew he must look a sight, covered in grey dust and probably blood too, judging from the throbbing behind his left ear. But at that moment, all he could think was I found her, and in spite of their predicament, his heart swelled.
“Hey, Esther,” he said.
She blinked. “Hey, Toby.”
�
��We’re alive,” he observed. “Result!”
She laughed with relief. “Yeah.”
He couldn’t help himself. Slipping a hand behind her head, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. He’d only meant to snatch a quick peck, but to his surprise, she opened her mouth, her tongue searching for his. He moved his arm around her, drawing her to him, and they exchanged a deep, dusty, heartfelt kiss.
A sneeze brought them apart.
The boy coughed. “When the ground went bang, you said fuck,” he accused Toby.
Her eyes widened. “Charlie!”
“I did,” Toby said, still feeling the press of her lips on his. “Sorry about that, but the situation kind of called for it.” Charlie had a round, plump face, curly blond hair—now covered with dust—and big brown eyes.
Eyes the mirror image of his own.
Toby’s gaze slid to Esther’s. He calculated rapidly. The boy looked about two and a half years old. He’d met her on holiday in December. Three years and two months ago.
No. Surely not.
She met his gaze calmly. Then, without saying anything, she rolled over and crawled out from under the table, bending to pull Charlie with her.
Toby pushed himself backward and got to his feet. Only then did he realise the extent of the devastation. The whole west wall of the supermarket had collapsed, and sunlight poured through the open roof, highlighting the rubble. All around, the cries of hurt or trapped people echoed through the building.
“Jesus.” Horror filled him. How long would it be before the emergency services arrived?
Esther had picked up her son, who’d started to cry. She tried to soothe him, stroking his back, whispering in his ear.
“Is he okay?” Toby took a step toward them, but she moved backward, tightening her arms around the boy, and he stopped. She didn’t want him near the kid. The exultant feeling that had swelled inside him died down.
She stroked Charlie’s hair. “He lost Bear.”
“Bear?”
“His Pooh Bear. It’s okay—it could have been a lot worse.” She looked around. “Damn it. I dropped my bag somewhere under all that rubble too.”
Behind them, a hanging beam fell to the floor with a crash, and they all jumped.
“We’ve got to get out of here in case the place collapses,” Toby said. There would be time later to talk to her about the boy. For now, he had to get them to safety. Debris had blocked the exit, but the window nearby had broken, giving access onto the street. “Come on, and mind the glass.”
He led the way over to the window. Shards of broken glass still jutted from the frame, so he removed them carefully before climbing over. “Pass him to me,” he instructed her, holding out his arms.
She hesitated for a moment, then handed the boy across. Toby held him in one arm and offered a hand to help her, but she ignored it and climbed over on her own. Letting his arm drop, he turned his attention instead to the child.
Charlie snuffled against his dust-streaked shirt. “Bear,” he mumbled. “I want Bear.”
“Ssh, it’s okay.” Toby stroked his hair. His heart pounded. “I’ll find him for you.”
Esther took Charlie from his arms. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she said sharply. “I’ve never lied to him, and I’m not about to start now.”
He put his hands in his jeans pockets, unsettled by her defensiveness. “I’m not lying. I’m going back in there. I’ll keep an eye open for the toy.”
Her eyes widened. “You can’t! It’s dangerous—it could collapse at any minute.”
“There are people trapped in there.”
“The emergency services will be here soon. It’s their job. They always say never to go back into a building after an earthquake.”
He shrugged. “I’ve got to do it. I can’t stand here while people are in there, in trouble.”
She crushed Charlie to her. Her large eyes met his, hard as emeralds. “You’re not being brave—you’re being an idiot.”
The comment stung. He wasn’t doing it to be a hero. The thought of going back made his stomach clench. But there had been other children in the shop and housewives buying the family shopping. The young checkout girl and the teenage boy who did the packing. How could he live with himself if he went home without knowing if they’d made it?
He glanced over at the building, then back at her. “How will I find you again?”
“I’ll find you,” she said. She must have seen the wariness in his face, because her expression softened. “I promise.”
His gaze fell to Charlie. “Is…is he mine?”
She swallowed. Then she gave a small nod.
His eyes came back to her cool, emotionless ones. How could she be so calm? A hundred different emotions roiled inside him, and he clenched his fists in an attempt to keep them in.
What a day to find out he’d fathered a child. He was going home at the weekend. He’d booked the flights, and his best mate was getting married in a week’s time—he had to be there. And after that, he had plans for his life. Things he wanted to do.
Bringing up a child wasn’t one of them.
He couldn’t think how to put his emotion into words. One day, he would have liked to have had a family. But not yet. His friends and family teased him constantly for being a Peter Pan. What would they say when they found out he had a son? Not that it appeared he had any choice in the matter. He was a father, whether he wanted to be one or not.
Nobody would blame him if he left the scene now to work things through with her. He hesitated. Then, behind him, someone screamed.
“Be careful.” He ran back to the window and climbed over the ledge into the building.
Chapter Two
When the emergency services finally persuaded Toby to stop, Esther was waiting for him.
She’d walked the short distance home to find her apartment devastated, sat there for a while looking up at it, and then wandered back to the tent that the firefighters and aid workers had set up as a central rescue point. She accepted a cup of coffee more out of politeness than anything, and fed Charlie bits of a ham sandwich as firefighters brought survivors out of the rubble and secured the area as much as they could.
Someone tried to get her to go with them to their house, but she refused politely and continued to sit on one of the fold-up chairs a volunteer had kindly donated. Charlie was unusually content to sit still, eyes wide at the sight of the firefighters and army personnel rushing around rescuing people.
She saw Toby from time to time over the next few hours, clearing piles of debris and helping injured people to safety. When they first turned up, the fire service had tried to get him to stay outside. He’d ignored them, though, and continued to help move beams and bricks to release those trapped. She guessed that eventually they must have decided they’d only be able to keep him out by restraining him, and that seemed pointless when he was obviously doing some good.
She rocked Charlie in her arms as he dozed, and accepted a blanket from one of the ambulance men and a drink from another as she waited for Toby to tire. It proved to be a long wait. She’d forgotten how tall, how strong he was. He must be six three or four, she thought as he emerged from the wreckage carrying a woman as if she weighed no more than a pile of blankets. He’d liked to lift Esther up to kiss her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he lowered his lips to hers. The memory made her shiver.
He’d been big three years ago, but he’d broadened even more since then, his muscles filling out the T-shirt that had been white when she first saw him standing at the checkout, although it was now almost completely black. His dark curly hair fell across his forehead in the same wild mop. The boyish good looks she remembered had matured into a rugged, bristled face, which nevertheless was still handsome enough to make her catch her breath. He tripped over bricks occasionally, proving to her that he’d gained no more coordination over his large feet than he’d had in Fiji. But that didn’t detract from the fact that he was movie-star gorgeous.
He was a carpenter and had used to live in the Northland. What was he doing here? Probably helping rebuild Christchurch after the earthquake the previous September, she thought sadly. The city had just started to get back on its feet. And now look what had happened.
A firefighter caught Toby’s arm and gestured toward the tent. He put his hands on his hips and nodded wearily before making his way over.
Pushing herself to her feet, she lifted Charlie higher in her arms. He stirred and woke, looking around blearily. Toby ducked under the flap at the top of the tent, stopping as he saw her. Pleasure and relief lit his tired face. “You’re here.” He walked over to them.
“You have the stamina of a steam engine.” She handed him a bottle of water. “Don’t you ever get tired?”
“When I get going, there’s no stopping me.” He winked, confirming he’d totally meant the double entendre, and laughed as she rolled her eyes. Taking a mouthful of water, he walked outside, swirled and spat, then drank half the bottle in one go. “Jeez. That’s the best drink I’ve had in, like, ever.”
“Do you want something to eat? There are sandwiches over there.”
“In a minute.” He wiped his mouth and came back to stand before them. “How are you two doing?”
“Okay.” She kissed Charlie’s curly hair where he nuzzled up against her. “We’re in one piece anyway.” She cleared her throat and met Toby’s big brown eyes, so like Charlie’s. “Thanks to you.”
Admitting she was in his debt wasn’t easy, but she was honest enough to accept that if he hadn’t helped her to get Charlie out of the trolley, the falling rubble would have buried them.
He said nothing for a moment. Her cheeks grew warm as his lips gradually curved. Was he thinking about Fiji? That moment when they met on the beach? The memory still made her heart pound, the attraction that had shot between them, sharp and powerful as an electric shock. She’d never felt anything like it before, or since. One-night stands had never been her thing, but she’d gone to bed with him willingly, and the sex had been so great that she’d returned to his room the next night, and the next. In fact they’d barely left the complex the entire fortnight.
Six Naughty Nights: Love in Reverse, Book 2 Page 1
