“More of a monster,” Fritha cut in.
“—and is that the sort of aunt you want your children to know? Or would you rather tolerate a few prickly years while she grows up and takes responsibility for herself, if the end result is a sister you can be proud of?”
Jill let me go and wiped away tears with the heels of both hands. “Wine,” she said to Fritha, who promptly topped up her glass. Then, “If I do this…”
Angela hugged her shoulders. “You know we’re here for you.”
Jill picked up her glass and drank the lot, then she plopped it back onto the breakfast bar and said, “Fuck. Okay. Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Good girl.” I patted her hand.
Fritha leant in on me and said, “Look at you, all touchy-feely. I think a good fucking-over has transformed you, L.”
“Fritha!” Angela said on my behalf.
“Leave me alone,” Fritha whined. “I never have anything to tease her about—”
“Which I like.”
“—and finally she fucks a stud-muffin and I’m not allowed to leer from the sidelines.”
I gave her a patient glance. “I’m quite sure you have a busy sex-life yourself. You don’t need to interest yourself in mine.”
“I had sex with a girl last week.”
Chapter Eleven
Fritha’s revelation shut down the table, until Jill snapped, “What the hell? Stop fucking the wait-staff!” Jill owned Bohemian Brew, the teahouse that Fritha ran, but she had no control at all over her wayward manager. As far as I knew, Fritha ran a profitable business for her, but her ‘after hours’ activities were clearly frustrating.
Fritha, as usual, was unconcerned. “She was a supplier, actually. But it was all soft and…meh. So I mustn’t be bi.” She sounded disappointed.
Angela put a hand over her heart. “Fritha Wynde, you do not just drop lesbian sex into a conversation.”
Jill and I exchanged an eloquent glance. Asking for subtlety from Fritha was a waste of breath.
“So,” Jill said, her eyes brighter, which was good to see. “Let me ask the question we’ve all been wondering—including our men—why was Nicholas sent to his room? Has he been…naughty?”
Fritha tried to suppress a snort and ended up spitting wine across my black marble breakfast bar which she wiped with one cheesecloth covered arm. Even Angela giggled.
“I’m not going to dignify that with a reply.”
“Oh yes you are,” Jill demanded, slapping a hand down over Fritha’s spit. “You just put me through the wringer.”
Fritha slapped a hand over hers. “And I’ve just had lesbian sex.”
“I’m pregnant,” Angela said, joining the three Musketeers reenactment.
The three of them looked at me and I couldn’t help smiling. “My husband was shot protecting his gay lover.” I laid a hand over Angela’s. “And I had sex with my bodyguard.” I put my other hand on top.
Fritha slapped a hand over mine. “I tossed Alec out because he had sex with a Wookie while he was dressed as Princess Leia.”
That earned her an uncomfortable silence for several seconds while we all tried not to visualize her scruffy ex wearing ear-buns having Wookie sex. It was a vivid reminder of why Fritha had gone off the rails sexually.
At last Angela laid her other hand down decisively and said, “My ex-husband had vasectomied sex with goodness only knows how many women as well as me.”
The three of us stared at Jill, daring her to complete the game, and finally she put her hand softly on top. “And my husband,” she said quietly, glancing at Angela, “donated sperm to his cousin so she could have a baby with her lesbian wife.”
“No way!” Fritha hissed, echoing my shock. All hands were withdrawn and no one was smiling now.
“Lizzie?” I asked, just to be sure. Tiny, fluffy Lizzie with the big blue eyes and… “Her son. Her little bunny. Finn is his biological father?”
Jill nodded. “But you mustn’t to tell anyone. Lizzie won’t even tell the baby who the father is. Finn is just to be his uncle—”
“Second cousin,” I corrected.
“Whatever. It’s a secret. And it shouldn’t mean anything to me, only…I’m jealous.”
“Of Lizzie?” That couldn’t be right. “I thought she was gay. And married.”
“I know.” Jill shook her head.
Angela hugged her shoulder. “You’ll have your own babies soon.”
But Jill was still frowning. “When Sieu ran off, I felt sick with fear that Lizzie would move in with us. I mean, I love her, but…”
It was suddenly clear to me. “You think she and Finn and their baby are a family.”
Jill looked up at me with stricken eyes. “I’m such a mess.”
No one was going to argue with that, so instead, I stated the obvious. “Sieu is back home. Lizzie is thrilled about that. You don’t have to worry.”
“Besides,” Angela said. “Won’t Lizzie’s mother be home soon?”
“Next month,” Jill said, her voice flat, clearly worried that Lizzie’s reconciliation with Sieu wouldn’t stick. Her shoulders had slumped again and it was suddenly obvious that she had too much to cope with. So while I might want her to be more trusting of Finn and their relationship—and he’d certainly proven that he deserved that—she might not have the emotional strength to do that and cope with Brittany’s histrionic demands.
In fact, coping with Brittany might be too much all on its own.
So I said, “If there are further problems, I’ll look after Lizzie and her baby if her mother isn’t back.”
Angela started to say, “But you’ve got enough with Marcus—”
Jill cut over her. “Thank you.”
A beat of silence let that decision sink in before I added, “And Fritha and Angela can be your Brittany backup.”
Fritha grinned across at Angela and said, “Good cop, bad cop.”
We all looked at Angela who said, “Of course I can. Jack’s nieces are with their grandparents for another week. We’ll both be in Sydney for me to record a few more songs and…” She glanced at Jill. “Pick out a wedding gown.” Then she frowned at me. “Although, with what’s happening for Marcus, it doesn’t seem appropriate to—”
I shut her down straightaway. “It’s a welcomed distraction,” I said categorically. “And no matter what happens with Marcus…life goes on.” I wanted to believe that, so despite my immediate fears, I managed to smile. “It will be lovely to have a wedding to look forward to.”
She frowned. “Are you sure?”
Fritha slapped both hands down on the benchtop. “Rainbow bridesmaid dress!”
Which, predictably, made Angela laugh. “Of course. Although I get to choose it.”
“Done,” Fritha said, and shot out a skinny hand.
Angela dutifully shook on it.
Then Jill said, “Are we done? Our men will think we’ve run out on them.”
I suddenly remembered my hostess role. “I’m sure they’d appreciate fresh drinks.”
“And the snacks we were supposed to be getting,” Fritha added.
Five minutes later we were back in the living room with a hastily microwaved tray of hors d’oeuvres Betty had made and stored in the freezer for me, along with more drinks for the men.
The food wasn’t to my usual standard, but as the conversation drifted around Angela and Jack’s upcoming wedding, and how his parents were thawing toward her, I realized I didn’t care whether or not the goat’s cheese was a perfect temperature inside the peppers they’d been stuff into, or if the mushroom kebabs were slightly soggy.
My mind was drifting back to Marcus and what might be happening at the hospital, and how I really wanted Adele to be his support person, and not me. I was wondering if I should check in with my medical service for an update, when the doorbell rang.
Conversation stopped and everyone looked at me, so I stood. “I’ll see who that is. I’m not expecting anyone.”
I knew
Nicholas would reach the door before me, and because I didn’t have a clue who it was, I wanted to ensure everyone else stayed in the living room. I didn’t imagine it would be anyone demanding the money Marcus owed, but I really had no clue.
“I won’t be long.”
I could see Jill frowning with concern, but the moment I stepped out of the room, Nicholas stopped me and said quietly, “There’s a man at the door in an ugly suit. I have no idea who he is, so I’d prefer you to wait here.”
“Certainly,” I said softly, but my pulse had kicked up.
I stepped back inside the living room and, as everyone was watching me, I said, “Someone for Nicholas, I think.” Despite the fear that throbbed inside me, I managed a stiff smile. Then I resumed my seat and said to Angela, “So, the bridesmaid dresses?” And that started off a whole conversation about colors and fabrics and flower girls—Jack’s nieces— which halted abruptly as everyone stopped and looked up at the doorway behind me.
I swiveled around and found Nicholas with a stiff expression on his face. There was no-one behind him.
“The man at the door,” he said, carefully enunciating each word, “Is here for you. His name is Doug.”
I’d already told Nicholas that the only male friend I’d ever had was Jill’s ex—which had stirred his jealousy, so I could understand his wariness, but I hadn’t expected Finn to suck in a sudden breath and sit forward in his chair with an unhappy frown of his own.
Jill grabbed his arm in the same second as Jack growled, “Doug?” and turned to Angela who unfortunately started to blush. Only then, did I remember that she’d dated Douglas at least once before she’d settled on Jack, and clearly Jack knew about that.
Fritha—bless her—was uncaring of the tension around her as she jumped up and said, “Yay!” pushing past Nicholas on her way to the front door. He hurried after her and I followed, realizing this was my doing. I’d told Douglas about Marcus being shot. But I hadn’t expected him to come to my house, or I would have warned Nicholas.
It was impolite of Douglas to arrive without phoning first, but I wasn’t angry with him because he simply wasn’t practiced in social niceties. Jill had always handled the arrangements and Douglas trailed along behind her like a lovable puppy. So it seemed ludicrous that the three very attractive men in my house could be jealous of him.
He was a boy in comparison.
Angela had cited exactly that reason for the fact that there had been zero chemistry between them, and I should have felt bad about setting up their date, but I’d selfishly wanted a reason for Douglas to be in Sydney so he could visit with Marcus, and I’d wanted Angela happily married to a man who wanted children.
Thankfully she’d found that in Jack.
Now I needed to make sure Douglas’s arrival didn’t derail Jill or Angela’s happily ever after.
So as we arrived behind Fritha who was vainly trying to open the code-locked front door, I said softly, “I don’t think it’s appropriate to bring Douglas inside. Can we take him to the hospital instead?”
Nicholas ignored Fritha’s cursing to concentrate on me, his eyes narrowing. “To see Marcus?”
“He’s Marcus’s friend.”
Fritha turned on us. “He’s my friend too!”
Nicholas entered a code in the panel beside the door and opened it wide enough for Fritha to dive out. I heard her squeal, “Doug!” before the door closed behind her and Nicholas locked it again.
Then he turned back to me, his voice low and urgent. “I know you’re going to tell me there’s no reason to be jealous, but Finn and Jack both arced up when they heard Doug’s name. Something is going on.”
“Not between Douglas and I,” I said emphatically. “He was Jill’s boyfriend for ten years and he dated Angela. Through those associations, Marcus became fond of him.”
Nicholas raised an eyebrow.
“Not that way. As far as I know,” I amended. “However, you can be assured that there has never been anything sexual between Douglas and myself. In fact,” I said as plainly as I could, “If you questioned him about it, he’d probably be mortified to imagine the two of us together.”
“Why?” Nicholas was seriously frowning now, as if he suspected he should be jealous of any man who clapped eyes on me. This rampant possessiveness—which Nicholas was clearly trying to suppress—was so new to me, I wasn’t used to dealing with it, so it took me a moment to gather my thoughts.
Then I said, “You haven’t known me long, but you must have noticed my reserve with people who aren’t inside my tight circle.”
“Angela, Jill, Fritha and Marcus.” He rattled that off as if he was well aware of who was important to me.
“And now you,” I reminded him, because he had very clearly wormed his way past my reserve.
That dissolved the frown.
“So,” I went on, “As Douglas is outside that circle, he has only received my polite and gracious attention as Jill’s partner and my occasional houseguest. With Jill,” I added, in case he started jumping to conclusions. “From the behavior I’ve exhibited around him, he probably thinks I’m too ladylike to have sex.”
I couldn’t say it any more plainly than that, but to my surprise, Nicholas smiled at me that way. “Too ladylike?” he said in a soft undertone.
I stared at him, and out of nowhere the throbbing returned. I felt my cheeks flushing as his slow gaze slid down over my grey Chanel suit, to my legs, ankles, heels, lingering and roving before it returned, pausing at my breasts for a moment, as though remembering, before he recaptured my gaze.
“More fool him.” Nicholas’s voice was low and husky. “Because you and I know what’s under that elegant façade…”
I swallowed thickly.
“…and how uninhibited you can be.”
I nodded, because it was completely true. I’d never been wild like that before, even as a teenager. “No-one else knows…about that.”
“And that’s how I want it.” He stared at me a moment longer before adding, “So I should treat Douglas as Marcus’s friend, not some rival whose lights I’d like to punch out?”
Despite the heat between us, that made me smile. “I’ve never had a man jealous over me before.” I wasn’t sure what to make of it, beyond the purely feminine part of me that basked in his possessiveness.
“I’ve never been jealous over a woman before,” he admitted softly. “It’s messing with my circuitry.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.” A second later he added, “Nothing I do is your fault.” Then he frowned. “Do you understand that?”
“No.”
He continued to gaze at me, then he grasped my arms, above my elbows. “I want you to promise me something.”
“What?” I asked breathlessly.
“Don’t let me get away with anything.”
I shook my head, totally lost.
“I’m bigger than you, but that doesn’t mean I should get my own way.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Good.”
The next thing I knew, he was kissing me and I was totally unprepared. His lips slid across mine and maybe he intended it to be brief, but as heat swept over me, I clutched at the front of his vest and kissed him back, pouring all of my sexual frustration into one molten, tongue-tingling exploration that tasted like jealousy and the hot promise of satisfaction.
Unfortunately, it ended as abruptly as it had begun with him pulling back and holding me away at arms’ length.
Fritha banged on the door beside us, then he said softly to me, “Remember what I said. The things I do are never your fault.”
That I understood, so I nodded. I was never to blame for ‘luring’ him or making him jealous. He was claiming responsibility for his actions, blaming himself when he overstepped the mark. Not that I would complain about him kissing me, even if it did arouse me into throbbing readiness for something that wasn’t going to happen. The sensations were so new and delicio
us I wanted the world to go away so I could kiss him again and again—soft and coaxing and sensual, then hard and passionate with blood pounding in my skull while his hands molded my body to the pleasure only he could create.
But none of that was happening. Fritha wanted in.
Instead of opening the door, however, he said to me, “If you don’t want him in the house, tell the others you’re leaving and then meet me in the garage. We’ll back the car out and pick him up on the street.”
I swallowed and nodded, still feeling lightheaded from his kiss.
He pressed the intercom next to the door and said for Fritha’s benefit, “I’m opening the garage.” Then he walked away, but it was several more seconds before I could coax my wobbling legs into action, propelling me back into the living room.
When I explained what had happened, that I’d invited Douglas to visit with Marcus, both Finn and Jack visibly relaxed. Angela and Jill gave me a hug, but tellingly, neither followed me out. Both chose to remain with their men, presumably to reassure them they had no interest in catching up with Douglas, although they promised to visit with Marcus later in the afternoon.
I snatched up a black Chanel handbag from my desk in the library and loaded it with a card and cash, as well as my phone, then I met Nicholas in the garage. He had the back passenger door open for me, but the last thing I wanted was to sit in the back with Doug, so I closed it and pointed to the front door.
“Next to me?” He tried to hold his ‘bodyguard face’, but I could see a smile on the edges of his delicious lips as he opened the door.
I settled myself into the seat where once upon a time Jill had sat, listening to me tell her that I was a high-functioning alcoholic because my husband was gay and I’d known for six years. How long ago had that been? Months? It felt like years—so much had happened.
Nicholas got into the driver’s seat and went through his ritual of checking the outside surveillance cameras on his phone before he opened the remote controlled garage door. Then he started the car and backed out.
Husband Heel (Husband #3) Page 15
