But it was a lie. Staying like that might have been the best way to protect herself against future hurt. But it wasn’t what she wanted deep down. She wanted to be loved. She wanted to find a man and get married. And she wanted children. She could call herself a feminist as much as she liked, and declare that she didn’t need a man to be happy, but the truth was that she couldn’t fight the biological urge to reproduce. It had probably always been there, but now it was strong enough to break down the barriers she’d erected around herself, and reveal the truth in all its shining glory.
She let out a long, shaky sigh. In a bizarre way, she felt relieved at finally admitting it to herself. She did want a relationship. She did need a man. Not to help her change a plug or unscrew jars, although that would come in handy sometimes, but in a natural way she could no longer deny.
It didn’t mean she would find it easy to trust. Or that it wasn’t going to bring its own problems. It just meant that she acknowledged the existence of a future where she wasn’t alone.
Was Jace Hart the man she was supposed to be with? She wasn’t sure. But for the first time, it felt like a possibility.
Pressing her fingers to her lips, she fought against tears. She wasn’t going to cry. It wasn’t as if she’d wasted twenty years. She’d needed time to recover from Brodie, that was all, and now she was finally ready, maybe, to learn to trust again.
She glanced at the clock. Fred would be knocking on the door again in ten minutes, and she didn’t want to be dragged to the car in her PJs.
After crossing to her bedroom, she dressed swiftly in a long emerald-green skirt and a sparkly white vest, pinned her hair up with a clip, and smoothed on some green eyeshadow and pale pink lip gloss. Then she checked her reflection—not bad considering the brief window of time.
She shoved her feet in some pretty white flip-flops—oops, she reminded herself, they called them jandals in New Zealand—found a white purse and put her money and phone in it, and was ready just before the knock came at the door.
Opening it with a flourish, she said, “Ta da!”
“Good Lord.” Mac looked astonished.
“Oh. Sorry. I thought you were Fred.” Sandi then threw her arms around him. “Congratulations, Mac. I’m so pleased for the two of you.”
Mac laughed and hugged her back. “Thank you. I know it’s early days, but it’s so difficult not to get excited!”
“It’s wonderful news, and only what the two of you deserve.” She drew back and locked the door behind her. “Are we going with Sam and Ginger?”
“Yeah. Fred’s told them too, so we can all raise a glass tonight.”
She followed him out to the car, where the others were waiting for her, and the three sisters exchanged a big hug while the guys looked on, smiling.
“I’m so excited,” Ginger told them. “I’m going to be Auntie Ginger!” They both laughed, and then had another group hug. “We talked about this so often when we were girls,” she whispered. “Do you remember? And now it’s all coming true.”
“One more to go,” Fred murmured back.
Sandi gave her a wry look. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“And looking pretty damn fine with it,” Fred stated. “Come on, it’s Christmas Eve and it’s party time!”
Laughing, they all piled in the car, and Fred set off for the car ferry across to Opua.
WITHIN THIRTY MINUTES, she was pulling up on the seafront, just down from the Between the Sheets cocktail bar. They’d all been there several times. It was a convenient place for everyone to meet, as most of their friends were spread around the bay in various towns.
The bar was lively, patrons spilling out of the warm interior into the outside garden. Fairy lights and Christmas decorations were strung all around, complementing the usual decor of seashells and sandy floors. Old Christmas songs were belting out of the sound system, and currently everyone was singing along to Wizzard’s I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday.
Beck, the owner, wore a Santa hat and fake white beard, and was handing out Christmassy chocolates with every tray of drinks.
They found a couple of their friends at a table in the garden, and Sam and Ginger took orders and went off to get the first round of drinks.
Placing her bag on the table, Sandi stepped back to take a photo of Mac and Fred having a sneaky kiss underneath a piece of mistletoe. Smiling as the peck turned into a smooch, she turned away and walked the short distance across the road to the beach.
It was nearly dark, the last rays of the sun turning the sea a beautiful Christmas-red. Over to the west, a single star was visible in the darkening sky, just to the left of the shining crescent of the moon. It was Venus, of course, but it was fun to pretend it was the star the Three Wise Men had followed, all those years ago. Appropriate, she thought, on the night she’d heard that Fred was pregnant.
This time last year, she’d been in England, bitter and broken hearted, and pretending it didn’t matter, because she had a whole new life to look forward to that was going to be so much better than her old one.
In many ways, she thought, it had been. She adored New Zealand—she loved the warmer weather, the coffee, the friendly people, and their laid-back attitude. And she had healed. She could see that now.
Enough to trust Jace and his mysterious ways? She wasn’t sure, and it might not matter anyway, because she hadn’t seen him in the bar yet, so it was possible he might not come. Maybe he’d heard she’d be here, and he’d decided to stay clear.
Whatever the reason, Fred was right, she was going to enjoy herself tonight. This time next year, she could be in Fred’s position, married and with a baby on the way. Who knew? If it was in the stars, she’d accept it with open arms, or she’d try, anyway. And if it wasn’t, she’d continue learning about her new country, making friends, and being with her sisters and their families until it was time for her to make her own.
Chapter Nineteen
JACE HAD NOTHING PLANNED for Christmas. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. He was looking forward to spending a few days in his track pants in front of the TV watching action movies and the occasional secret chick flick, eating ready meals, and trying out a special bottle of twenty-five-year-old Bowmore Islay single malt whisky he’d been saving.
With no family in the area and his friends tied up with their wives and kids, this year he was on his own for the festive period. He was happy with that. He worked hard and had a busy social life, and he’d figured it would be okay to take a few days out to chill.
Then, on the morning of Christmas Eve, Sam had rung. “We’re going to Between the Sheets tonight,” he’d announced. “Loads of us from the rugby club. Meet us there?”
“Not tonight,” Jace had said. “Stuff planned.”
“You can drink whisky and be maudlin on your own anytime. Don’t be a boring old fart.”
“Sam...”
“Sandi’s gonna be there.”
Jace had looked at his feet. “I don’t think she’d be pleased to see me.”
“Bullshit. She’s crazy about you.”
“Like you would know.”
“Ginger said so.”
Jace had pursed his lips. He was more likely to trust Ginger’s view on this than her husband’s, but even so...
“It’s Christmas Eve,” Sam had said. “A time for miracles and all that shit. See you there at seven.” He’d hung up.
Jace had given his phone the finger and promptly told himself he was going to forget about it. Sandi had taken a huge step out of her comfort zone in admitting she wanted to see him again, so he knew she must have feelings for him. But she’d asked him to be open and honest with her, and he’d thrown it in her face. There was nothing else he could have done, but he still felt like a heel. In desperation, he’d asked her to trust him, but he couldn’t blame her for saying she couldn’t take that step. Jesus, the woman had been living with a guy who’d lied to her for two years. Brodie had humiliated and embarrassed her, and he’d broken her heart. Wh
at right did Jace have—when they’d only slept together twice—to ask her to trust him? He’d known he was asking too much, but he’d had to try.
He wanted to see her again. He couldn’t concentrate on anything. He’d be in the middle of a meeting or dictating a report, and he’d receive a flash of an image—Sandi on top of him, her face flushed and her eyes sultry as she watched him while she moved—or he’d remember the whisper of her voice in his ear in the dark, her sighs as she moaned his name. He wanted to get her into bed, to make her come over and over again until they were both exhausted. But he also just wanted to see her again. To watch her eyes light up when her gaze fell on him, before she managed to smother that look of pleasure. To talk to her. To hear her voice.
Jeez, he had it bad.
He already knew he would be going to the bar. But he pretended for a while that he wasn’t sure.
He showered. Splashed on his favorite aftershave just because it smelled nice, nothing to do with Sandi. Pulled on his best jeans and a clean tee, even though he told himself he wasn’t going anywhere. Combed his hair, then ruffled it up. Changed the tee to an All Blacks shirt because it was tighter and he knew she liked his biceps. Changed back to the tee. Then back to the All Blacks shirt. Finally, he got exasperated with himself and left the bedroom.
He sat down and turned the TV to a movie. He watched ten minutes, had no idea what was going on, and turned it off again. He stared moodily around the room, wishing he’d been bothered to buy himself some Christmas lights.
Then, eventually, he picked up his car keys and wallet, shoved his feet in his Converses, and headed for the door.
Twenty minutes later, he arrived in Paihia, pulled up just down from the Between the Sheets bar, and turned off the engine. The sun was setting, and had flooded the sea to his left with what he would call red but Sandi would probably call cherry or crimson or pomegranate or something. He opened the door, got out, and breathed in the salty air, its freshness sweeping away some of the humidity that had plagued the Northland since the beginning of the month.
Then he saw her.
He was conscious that he inhaled, actually inhaled, like a character out of one of the chick flicks he never admitted to watching. She stood on the grassy bank overlooking the golden sand, staring out to sea, her arms folded, lost in thought. She wore a green skirt that brushed her feet, and a white vest that must have had sequins because it glinted as she moved. Music was emanating from the bar—Wham’s Last Christmas, if he wasn’t mistaken—and she was moving to it, just swaying a little with the melody. She’d pinned up her hair, and he could see the pale skin of her neck where it met her shoulder.
His lips curving at the corners, he walked up behind her, decided to take the risk, and rested his hands on her hips.
She jumped and looked over her shoulder, and he waited to see if she moved away from him, or if her eyes lit with alarm. If they had, he would have immediately dropped his hands and stepped back. But they didn’t. Pleasure flared in them briefly, before she smothered it with a wry look.
“Evening,” he said.
“Good evening.” She lowered her gaze, a touch of color appearing in her cheekbones.
Encouraged that she hadn’t moved away, he stepped closer, slid his arms around her, and touched his lips to her neck.
“Cheeky,” she said, but she still didn’t move.
“I missed you,” he admitted.
Her gaze rose to meet his. She didn’t smile, and she didn’t tell him she’d missed him too, but her eyes said the words for her.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?”
“For being exactly what you don’t need right now.”
Her guarded expression vanished, and her eyes softened. “Jace... you don’t have to apologize.”
“I do...”
“No, you really don’t. We fell right into bed, and we’ve only slept together twice. Ordinarily, it would take months to get to the stage where a couple feels confident about confiding their innermost secrets.”
“But after what you’ve been through, you deserve more,” he said, not willing to let her take the blame for everything.
She sighed. “I think we both know there’s no justice in this world, not really.” She leaned back against him, and he let her nestle into his embrace, his heart rate increasing at the thought that she might be interested in seeing him again.
“I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” she said, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible. “Fred told me she didn’t believe Brodie set out to hurt me, and I think she was right. But he did. And not just in the obvious way. He changed me. He changed the way I feel toward people. He made me harder and less trusting. And I don’t want to be that sort of person. Before it all happened, I suppose you could have called me naive, but I liked being like that. I thought the best of everyone, and I lived for today, and it was rare for someone to bring me down. I want to be like that again.”
She turned in his arms and pressed her hands to his chest. “I’m not saying it will be easy for me. But if you’d like to... you know... start seeing each other... I mean... you might have changed your mind... but if you haven’t...”
Jace slid a finger under her chin, lifted it, and kissed her.
She gave a little inhalation that could have been a laugh and could have been a sob, slid her arms around him, and melted into the kiss.
Joy filled him, and he reminded himself to thank Sam for making him come out tonight. Even as his mouth moved across Sandi’s, he felt awed at the depth of her feeling for him that she wanted to try to trust him.
“I’m crazy about you,” he said fiercely, kissing up her cheek, then back down to her mouth, before tightening his arms around her and resting his lips on the top of her head.
“Me too,” she whispered.
“For God’s sake, you two. Get a room.”
Jace pulled back, laughing, as Sam walked up to them carrying two drinks and handed the glass of wine to Sandi and the beer to Jace.
“I’m going to give you a big wet kiss on the mouth,” Jace told him, “for making me come tonight.”
“It’s okay, I’m good,” Sam advised.
Laughing, they accompanied him back to the bar and took their seats with the others.
Nobody said anything when he threw his arm around Sandi’s shoulders and pulled her close to him, but he caught Fred’s eye and returned her smile.
For the next few hours, they talked and laughed and talked some more, and even though he couldn’t have any more to drink because he was driving, it didn’t matter, because he was filled with happiness just from having Sandi with him, the hope of a future with her shining like the baubles on Beck’s huge Christmas tree.
It wasn’t going to be plain sailing all the way. He already knew that. The last thing he wanted to do was keep secrets from her, but he just didn’t have a choice, and he knew he was going to have to walk the line carefully between keeping his past separate from his present, and outright lying to her.
He had an inkling of how difficult it was going to be when his mobile rang, and he pulled it out to see Lizzie’s name on the screen.
“Excuse me,” he said to Sandi with a smile, and he rose and walked out of the bar and into the cooling night before he swiped the screen and answered it.
“Hey you,” Lizzie said.
“Hey.” He looked out across the flat sea to the darkening sky, where stars were beginning to pop out.
“Wanted to wish you a happy Christmas Eve,” Lizzie said softly. “And apologize to you for trying to get you to talk to Jilly.”
He looked at his shoes, and scuffed at a stone in the grass. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, I promise.”
“I shouldn’t be talking to you at all, Liz. We’re not supposed to be in contact.”
“I know.”
“In fact...” He hesitated. “I might have to stop calling for a while. I’ve... met
someone.”
There was a moment of silence, and then she said, “That’s great, honey. I’m pleased for you. What’s her name?”
“Sandi. She runs a B&B at the local vineyard. She’s lovely.”
“She doesn’t know about you?”
“No.”
“Are you going to tell her?”
He bent and picked up the stone, and threw it as hard as he could toward the ocean, watching as the dark water swallowed it up. “I shouldn’t.”
“Do you like her?”
“I’m crazy about her.”
“Then you’ll have to tell her at some point. You can’t keep a secret like this forever from someone you love.”
“I know. I will. I just need a bit of time.”
“If you really like her, don’t screw it up. Nothing’s worth losing out on love for.”
He sighed and glanced over his shoulder. Sandi was busy talking to Ginger, but he had the feeling she’d been watching him. She would be wondering who he was talking to so late on Christmas Eve. What should he say? He didn’t want to lie to her, but neither was he ready to tell her the truth.
“Yeah. Okay, I gotta go,” he said.
“All right. I won’t ring for a while. You call me if you want to talk.”
His throat tightened. “Is Beth in bed?”
“Yes. I don’t think she’s asleep yet—she’s over-excited, of course, and keeps getting up to look out of the window for Rudolph. I’m betting she’ll only be awake another half an hour though before she falls asleep.”
“Give her a kiss from me,” he said hoarsely.
“I will. Love you.”
“Love you too.” He hung up.
He stood there for a moment. Was he being dumb, starting up a relationship that wasn’t based on openness and truth? Poor Sandi deserved so much more. And yet, he couldn’t keep away from her. He’d have to take it one day at a time and see how it went.
He walked back to the bar and sat down beside her. “Sorry about that,” he said, and waited for her to ask who it was.
She stood, and for a moment he thought she was going to walk away. Alarm shot through him, but then she raised her hand above his head. He looked up and saw she was holding a piece of mistletoe.
As Timeless as the Sea Page 14
