by Andrews, Amy
“I’m not blaming him,” Ethan said. “I’m just gobsmacked he’d go along with such a harebrained scheme.”
“Well A, because at the time I thought she was pregnant,” Coop said. “And B, it was a knee-jerk reaction to you all pressuring her. You guys were coming on pretty strong and she was looking lost and you all needed to back the hell off. And, trust me, I was a much better daddy candidate than the lying, cheating scumbag who I figured was the father. It was only supposed to be until I could get her alone and we could figure things out.”
“So you knew straight after there was no baby.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you say something then?” Marcus demanded.
“Because you guys press-ganged him by arranging a job for him,” Lacey snapped. “And I talked him into keeping the charade going. I wanted to spend time here without constantly being pressured by you all to go back and I knew me being pregnant was the perfect cover.”
She glanced up at Coop. “It’s not Coop’s fault. He was just looking out for me.” She looked at her brother. “Like you asked him to do, Ethan. Like he always has.”
His hand tightened at Lacey’s waist and she felt it all the way around her heart.
The same tension that had been in the kitchen that day after Coop’s confession filled the space between the two friends. There was some kind of underlying thing between them that Lacey didn’t know about, but she didn’t want Ethan to take this out on Coop.
“I really am sorry,” Lacey said. “I felt backed into a corner and I acted impulsively and it was wrong of me.”
Ethan let out a pent-up breath and shoved a hand through his hair. “Jesus, Lacey, you know you scared about a decade off our lives that day.”
Lacey cringed. She was going to need to do some major sucking up for a while. “I know and I’m sorry.”
“So, to reiterate,” Jarrod said, sinking down into his chair, “you’re not pregnant.”
“Correct.”
“Well … all’s well that ends well,” Marcus said, clearly ready to shrug off their collective fright now Lacey wasn’t knocked up.
“Yes,” Lacey agreed. “Actually, very well. I have more news.”
Lacey and Coop sat as she broke the news. Her brothers were absolutely thrilled for her considering they’d never heard of Anouska Dahl. They asked a heap of questions she didn’t have the answers for just yet, but they agreed whole-heartedly with Coop that she should pack her things and get the first flight to Melbourne.
When she expressed concerns about leaving Jumbuck Springs again so soon after coming back, they quickly overrode them with tales of trams and Aussie Rules games at the MCG and shoe shopping.
Her concerns about leaving Coop she kept to herself. Coop wanted to get on with his life. So should she.
She’d expected at least one of her brothers to ask about how this fitted in with finishing college but none of them did. They appeared to be genuinely excited about the incredible opportunity and Lacey finally felt like all four of them were in sync with the direction of her life. She didn’t need her brothers’ approval or permission but it felt better when she had it.
* * *
Coop looked at his watch half an hour later as Lacey disappeared into the lounge to chat with Connie about going to Melbourne and he was left with Ethan. Marcus and Jarrod had not long left with goodbye hugs for their sister, making her promise she’d be home for Christmas and assuring her they’d visit her during the footy finals season in return.
Ethan regarded him seriously and Coop braced himself. He’d known this was coming. “So you lied to me that day at the garage. About loving her?”
Coop hadn’t lied then and he wasn’t about to lie now. He loved Lacey and the thought of her leaving for Melbourne, for a glamorous life he couldn’t possibly compete with, was like a knife in his heart. But he wasn’t going to stand in the way of this opportunity.
“No. I’ve loved Lacey since the day I first met her.”
Ethan frowned. “I bloody hope not,” he growled. “She was nineteen when you first met.”
It was time for Coop to fess up, so that Ethan understood just how much Coop loved his sister. “Do you remember me telling you that day that I’d met a woman and I thought she was the one?”
“Sure,” he nodded. “The drought breaker.”
“It was Lacey.”
Ethan looked confused for a moment or two. “I don’t understand. You seem to be telling me that you slept with my sister when she was nineteen.”
Coop wondered whether Ethan might punch him in the face this time and bugger the whole chief of police thing. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you. I met her in a bar. That bar actually. The week before. She told me her name was Tracey and she was twenty-four.”
Ethan shut his eyes. “Jesus.”
“Yes. You can imagine my surprise when I realised.” Ethan opened his eyes and nodded. To his credit he seemed to understand Coop’s nightmare. “But there’s been nothing like that between us while I’ve been looking out for her in Brisbane.”
Apart from the odd drunken come-on, anyway. And those had not been initiated by him.
“And here? Shacked up with my sister at the pub?”
Coop had told Lacey he’d wanted to be able to look Ethan in the eye and tell him he hadn’t taken advantage of their situation but he couldn’t. He dropped his gaze to his clasped hands. “It was … complicated.”
“Yeah. I bet.”
Coop glanced up. Ethan’s demeanour was conciliatory even if the words held a hefty dose of sarcasm.
“It’s only since being here with her day in, day out, that I’ve given myself permission to face the truth. In fact it was you asking me whether I loved her that made me see it. I’d been trying not to feel anything for her for so long, I’d completely hidden from the truth. I love her very much, Ethan.”
“Have you told her?”
Coop shook his head. “Nope.”
“Why not?”
“I’m setting her free, remember? You asked me if I loved her enough to set her free, and I do. She has to go to Melbourne and be the person she always wanted to be. And she needs to do that without anything anchoring her here. I’m not going to hold her back.” He absently rubbed his hand over the scars on his head. “I understand the regret of thwarted ambition all too well.”
“Yeah,” Ethan said. “So do I.”
Neither of them said anything for long moments. “Well then …” Coop stood. “I guess we’d better go. There’s a lot to do to get her to Melbourne tomorrow.”
Ethan stood also. “Thank you,” he said, holding out his hand. “For putting Lacey first. I know I’m not being much of a friend but she’s my sister, man. She’ll always come first.”
Coop reached across and shook Ethan’s hand. “She’ll always come first for me too.”
Chapter Thirteen
‡
Lacey looked out at the cold, grey weather, the misty rain making crazy patterns on the big floor-to-ceiling windows. Blurry people on the street below scurried around under umbrellas, all rugged up in their grey and black clothes so familiar now that a splash of colour in a scarf or a beret became endlessly fascinating.
The colours were different back home. A big blue sky that never quit and a landscape dominated by the relentless beat of the sun’s rays gilding everything in stark relief. From the forest green of the mountains, to the vibrant yellow puffs of wattle, to the ever-changing brown and green patchwork of paddocks, life in Jumbuck Springs was like a Monet painting.
The rain was different back home too. None of this drizzly shit. It either poured or it didn’t rain for months. Drought or flood. And at the moment, it had been dry for a very long time. They could certainly do with some of this rain, even if it was more of the annoying misty variety than the good soaking stuff.
Melbourne in winter had been a true culture shock for Lacey. This area of Richmond in particular. On the trendy edge of grungy, in transiti
on from industrial to residential, there was nothing like this big converted warehouse space back home. Except for maybe the shearing sheds on the outlying properties.
The vibe was hip and upcoming. Nothing back home was hip and upcoming. This space was perfect for Anouska Dahl the trendiest new fashion designer on the block. The cavernous open space allowed for many hands to make light work and Anouska made the most of it, the work space a continual hive of activity.
Anouska had been a challenging taskmaster and Lacey had never worked so hard in her life. Twelve hours a day, seven days a week as they geared up for the big fashion show in a little over two months. Lacey hadn’t minded at all. She’d been put to work designing a range of bustles for Anouska’s steampunk-inspired collection and she’d learned more in three weeks with Anouska than she’d learned in three years at college.
It had been exhausting but also deeply satisfying. Plus it had kept her mind off what she’d left behind.
Coop.
The muffled ding from a tram on the street below, as it pulled into its stop, dragged her thoughts back from the emotional edge. Lacey loved the trams. For a kid from the country it was still a bit of a novelty and she’d ridden them the last three weeks to work. It also couldn’t be beaten for convenience, especially with her car still in Brisbane.
And … she was back to Coop again.
He’d been texting quite a bit since he’d dropped her at Brisbane airport. Funny things. Pictures of engines with witty captions and ridiculous road signs. Nothing personal. But they’d made her laugh. Hell she’d even joined in, sending him her own pics with funny captions. Mainly about the weather. And some risqué mannequin poses that Drew, one of Anouska’s apprentice pattern cutters, liked to experiment with every morning.
Coop seemed to appreciate them, and Lacey figured the texting was his way of getting things back to normal between them. A sign that he was getting on with his life. On the one hand she’d appreciated it, but late at night, when she finally crawled into bed in a heap, she couldn’t deny that she missed him and wondered if he was lying in bed missing her too.
Not if his texts were anything to go by …
“Hey Lacey, some mail for you.”
Lacey looked around to find Anouska approaching with a small padded bag. Anouska was a six-foot blonde who always wore killer heels. She was only five years older than Lacey but oozed style and confidence.
“Thanks.” It was unusual for the boss to be handing out the mail so Lacey figured there was more coming.
Anouska leaned her hip against the edge of Lacey’s high design desk. She tipped her chin in the direction of the design Lacey was working on. “That’s coming along.”
Lacey nodded. “Yes. I just can’t get it quite right though. There’s something missing I haven’t been able to figure out yet.
Anouska pulled up a chair beside Lacey and they chatted about it, sketching a half a dozen different things back and forth as they nutted out the problem and clicked around on Lacey’s desktop computer looking at similar designs. Anouska smiled as Lacey declared herself still not satisfied fifteen minutes later. Anouska was a perfectionist and Lacey had learned early she expected nothing less from her team.
She put down her pencil. “You’ll solve it, I have no doubt.”
Lacey was flattered. “I hope so.”
“You will,” she said. “You’ve got a very good eye and an almost psychic connection to whatever design you’re working on. That’s a gift.”
“Thanks.” Lacey smiled at the praise.
“How are things going? You only have a week left on your trial. I’m hoping you’d like to stay on.”
Lacey hesitation was only for a nanosecond but she could tell that Anouska had seen it. “I get the impression you’re not really happy here, Lacey.”
“No …” Of course she was happy. Everything was falling into place for her. The last thing Lacey wanted was to be seen as an ingrate. Not when she’d been given a marvellous opportunity. “No, sorry, it’s not that. It’s just Melbourne is …”
What could she say that didn’t sound insulting or immature?
“Different from home?”
Lacey nodded in relief when Anouska didn’t appear to have taken offence. “Yes.”
“And you miss home.”
Yes she did. But not as much as she missed Coop. It was insane to feel this way. It had only been three weeks for crying out loud.
“Or maybe someone at home?” Anouska guessed.
“No.” Lacey shook her head. “There’s no-one.”
Anouska studied her face for a few long hard beats. “You’re really good, Lacey Weston. Really. I think I can teach you a lot. I know you can teach me a lot. But it’s gotta be what you really want. Life’s too short.”
Lacey nodded. “It is what I want,” she said emphatically.
It was time to stop moping about Coop. They’d been a brief bit of insanity and he was moving on with his impersonal texts of car engines. And so should she. “I would love to come and work for you permanently. Please. If you’ll have me.”
“Of course.” Anouska grinned and patted her hand. “Of course.”
Someone called for Anouska. She grimaced and apologised and walked a few feet over to the next desk where one of the other designers wanted to ask her something, leaving Lacey looking at the small padded post bag with a bulge in the middle. She noticed it was Coop’s handwriting and her pulse picked up as she tore it open at the end. A small zip-lock bag fell out of the parcel and inside it were what looked like fabric clothing labels.
Lacey turned the bag over to inspect the rectangular labels more closely. She gasped as she read what they said in exquisite silver thread.
A Lacey Weston Original.
She pulled one out of the bag and ran her finger over it. The font had a country western feel to it while still being feminine. It was so beautiful, so thoughtful, so personal, Lacey’s heart just about burst out of her chest.
“Oh Coop,” she whispered as emotion burned hot in her gut and prickled at the backs of her eyes. God, she was going to cry, right here at work in front of everyone.
What the hell was wrong with her?
With a shaking hand Lacey quickly clicked the mouse twice, navigating straight to Coop’s business page, which she’d bookmarked when she’d first arrived and had visited every day just to look at his picture and read his bio. His face came up on the screen, looking more like a criminal with his scar and shaved head rather than the stand-up guy he was, the ex-cop-cum-mechanic.
It took her a few moments to realise the website header had been changed and Lacey blinked when she saw her mini in all its gleaming burnt-orange pride up there, front and centre, sparkling in the sunshine. A ‘click here’ tab was positioned just to the side of her sexy new car and she clicked on it.
A page came up with a dozen pictures of her beautiful car’s journey from pile of junk to lovingly restored. By Coop. The page header read Latest Labour of Love and kicked Lacey hard in the vicinity of her heart.
Love. Her car was a labour of love for him?
Was that a purely mechanical, rev-head point of view or was there some subtext behind the header?
Tears welled in her eyes as the truth stormed naked and full frontal into her consciousness. In her hand she held his labels, something so beautiful and personal from Coop she wanted to cry, while on screen his labour of love stared back at her and her heart kept growing and expanding, pushing against the confines of her ribs until it felt big enough to tear her chest right open. Big enough to eclipse the sun.
Big enough to make her realise the truth. Well … fuck me dead as Marcus would say. This wasn’t infatuation or lust or gratitude or even friendship she felt for Coop.
She loved him.
And it was as plain as the grey old day outside those windows. She loved him. She loved him so much she could die from it right here and now and it would still have been worth the nanosecond of awareness before she expired. All thes
e years when she’d been so irritated by him and yet so aware of him, in ways she had never been able to explain or hadn’t ever wanted to think about. It hadn’t been because she’d disliked or resented him but because she hadn’t.
Simply put, he’d gotten under her skin, burning and itching, prickling at her very soul; she’d never been able to fully dismiss him from her mind.
Lacey sucked in deep breaths as it hit her with cyclonic force. She was in love with Cooper Grainger.
And she didn’t know what to do about it because she was fairly certain she was still the pain in his side—or ass—that she’d always been. Ethan’s bratty little sister who had lied and seduced him and given him merry hell ever since.
Sure, he’d had a good time with her, but now he was finally rid of her …
Her being in love with him was probably the last thing the man wanted. He probably never wanted to see her ever again. For God’s sake he’d packed her up, paid for her airfare and driven her to the goddamn airport. Nothing said good-bye-forever like a guy who bought you a ticket to a place two thousand kilometres away!
But she knew with sudden clarity she couldn’t do this. Being in Melbourne with Anouska Dahl was a huge privilege and a learning experience she’d never get anywhere else, but it wasn’t for her. She needed to see Coop. Talk to him.
And even if he sent her away and broke her heart, she still wasn’t made for Melbourne or any place that could experience four seasons in a day.
She was a country girl. A big-sky girl. A Jumbuck Springs girl. And she’d go back there and design original one-offs for rich country women and their daughters and build her name one gown at a time through the bush telegraph. And have an absolute ball doing it. Because they were her people and that was her calling in life—individual designs for people she loved and had a true affinity for—and if she had nothing else, she had Coop’s labels to inspire her and give her the courage and fortitude she was going to need to be a success.
Tears blurred her vision so much Lacey could barely see the screen. The colours of her gorgeous car ran like a smudged watercolour before her eyes, like looking at the streetscape through the rain-splattered windows. Her hands shook and her breath thinned until it made her dizzy.
