by Meg Buchanan
She shook her head. “No, you did everything exactly right.”
“That’s a relief.”
She smiled through her tears, then leaned over the small gap and kissed him again. The kiss was sweet and quiet, not wild and driven the way she’d kissed him before.
She smiled. “I think that was fucking,” she whispered. “Now we should make love.”
“Okay,” he said slowly. Maybe the slow leisurely lovemaking was going to happen. He felt up for the challenge. He’d make love to her for the rest of her life if that’s what she wanted.
“Hang on.” He got rid of the condom. Plenty more where that came from.
He turned back and curved over her, cupping her breast he sucked her nipple into his mouth. She really had amazing breasts. He moved down her belly, her soft gasps encouraged him.
Then he kneeled between her thighs, they fell open and he traced a line from her navel to the division of flesh. Then added his tongue and could taste her. He slid a finger into her and felt a shudder.
She tried to push him away. “You don’t have to.”
“Have to what?” He’d been thinking of how he’d do this since that moment on the fence.
“I should have a shower first. . .”
“Why?”
She shook her head. “Because we....” she waved her hand to take in the two of them.
“No, this is perfect.” He started again this time with kisses to the silky softness of her inner thigh, then back to where he’d been before. He slid his finger in and out of her, then used lips and tongue. He called on everything he knew about making love.
They lay quietly side by side. All the doubts she should have had before she begged him to make love came rushing back.
She sighed. It wasn’t fair to not tell Adam what was going on. Maybe she’d feel better if she talked about it.
She pulled the sheet up and then rolled over, so she could see his face.
“You said we should talk,” she said tentatively.
He turned his head. “You effectively put a stop to that idea.”
She shrugged. A little late to blush now. “I do want to tell you what is going on.”
“Okay.” He rolled over, so he faced her. “Tell me.”
Geneviève shrugged again. Did she really want to talk about this? Not really, but she should.
“Last night,” she said. “About half an hour before you saw me in the bar, I was in the car with Mason.”
“And it was Mason chasing us?” Adam asked.
Geneviève nodded.
“Mason Morès?” he asked.
This time she shook her head with a half-smile. “I gave you my maiden name, it’s Mason Curtis-Jones.”
“Hyphenated,” he said.
“That is what Mason is like. Pretentious. He thinks it is classy.” She shrugged. “Last night, he pulled up outside a liquor store and told me to stay in the car. I didn’t even bother to argue. He never listens to me.”
“Why did he stop?” asked Adam.
“To get something to drink. He slammed the car door shut. I leaned back against the soft leather. My face hurt from smiling all evening. I knew he was angry with me again because he’d caught me yawning when I should have been listening to something one of his colleagues was saying.”
“Where had you been?” asked Adam.
“A business dinner. We only go to things Mason thinks will help his business. I wear what he tells me to.” She looked over at the tight silver dress she’d squeezed herself into at his insistence, still draped over the back of the chair. With her boobs hiked up until they were almost under her chin. The strappy silver sandals that made her legs look even longer. Her dark hair piled on top of her head in a casual but chic way she looked like the perfect trophy wife.
“I had behaved and said what I’d been told to say all night. And you’d think he invented the way I speak. Whenever I open my mouth Mason almost preens.”
Adam smiled. “I can understand that,” he said.
Geneviève rolled her eyes. Adam was as bad as the rest of them. “It was boring, and I yawned and that made Mason cross. He drove to the liquor store in icy silence. When we stopped I watched him go inside, then a group of young people wandered past and I couldn’t see into the store any longer. They stopped near the doorway to discuss something. It looked like they had been in the pub and had already had a bit to drink.”
“Maybe they’d been to watch us.”
Geneviève shrugged again. “Maybe.” The timing was about right. “I watched them and wished I was part of a group like that still. That is how it was for me in Montevideo. Like you and your friends. Just a group of people together having fun.”
But all she had now was Mason and this constant round of being the perfect wife, in the perfect house, the perfect hostess, or the perfect guest. She never got to do anything fun anymore like those kids had been doing.
“I knew when we got home it would all start again. He’d pour himself a glass of whatever he’d gone into the store to buy. He’d turn on the television and ignore me. Then I’d do something that annoyed him.”
She sighed and looked over at Adam. “It wouldn’t matter what I did. Sit beside him, go to bed, have a shower, have a drink too. Whatever I did would annoy him. He’d sit there getting angrier at me until he exploded. Then he’d yell and hit me. I could always see the signs, but I could never stop it happening. He was always sorry the next day, but that didn’t stop him doing it.”
“Arsehole.” Adam reached out and gently touched her cheek. “What happened then?”
“The group of kids standing outside the liquor store must have come to a decision about what they were going to buy,” she said. “A couple of them went to the door and it slid open for them. I looked past them, I still couldn’t see Mason. And then I realised something. If I couldn’t see Mason, he couldn’t see me. I should get out of the car and run. Why should I just wait in the car for him to come back? Why should I go home with him and try to placate him when I knew what would happen?”
“Sounds like good reasoning to me.” Adam found her hand.
“I know.” She smiled at him and the linked fingers. “I thought, why couldn’t this be my moment? Mason wouldn’t hurry, he’d take his time even though he knew I waited in the car for him. He liked playing the big shot when he bought something. He’d be in there trying to prove he knew about wine, or whiskey, or whatever he’d gone in to get. I decided I probably still had another good ten minutes to get away and leave this life that he’d trapped me in. I could hide until the morning and then figure out what to do next. If I got to an ATM and took out as much as I could before he knew I had gone, I’d have enough money to survive until I had it figured out. The young kids were still milling around between the car and the store. I checked my purse. Phone, credit cards, mascara and lipstick. What else could I need to start a new life? I decided to run. I wasn’t sure I would really dare to do it. I checked the store again. Still no sigh of Mason. The group of kids waiting still hid me.”
She closed her eyes and could see herself there in the car. She had pulled on the handle and the door opened. She could do this. She would disappear and never be found. But she only had ten minutes to do it in. She swivelled her legs out of the car. Placed her feet on the kerb. One of the boys at the edge of the group looked over at her.
“We’re going to a party. Do you want to come?” he’d asked. She considered it. Considered just blending in with them. They only looked a couple of years younger than she was. And she was dressed for a party.
“I knew if Mason came out before they left I’d lose this chance and I didn’t know if I’d ever be brave enough to try again.”
Would she even have survived if he’d come out of the store found she’d got out of the car and realised what she’d been trying to do? Or would the boy have survived if Mason saw her talking to him?
“Then, with my heart in my mouth, fear clawing at my skin I walked around the bonnet of th
e car, crossed the road and turned the first corner I came to.” She looked at the useless silver sandals sitting on the floor near the dress. “I couldn’t walk fast, my dress was tight and the heels of the sandals high, but I kept going and didn’t look back.”
She looked over at Adam and smiled. She liked the way he lay there and listened. So different from Mason who always did all the talking.
No, no more thinking about Mason and the way he would hurt her. Now she was free she wanted to feel more than fear. She wanted feel cared for and that’s how Adam made her feel.
She smiled at him again. “I walked until I came to the bar and found you.”
“Lucky me,” said Adam and watched Geneviève give a half smile. She’d told her story in a matter of fact way, but now and then the veneer would shift, and he could see how frightened she was, just how much it had upset her.
“How long have you known him?” he asked.
“A year. He wasn’t like this when I met him. He was the perfect gentleman. He said ‘You’ll love it in New Zealand, Vive. It’s not a lot different to Uruguay. We’ll come back each year and visit your family. They can visit you whenever they want to.’ But it didn’t happen like that. Whenever I suggested we go and visit my parents, it was inconvenient, always some big property deal about to happen. Or if my mother and father wanted to come here, he’d be in the middle of something. Then I suggested I could go and see my parents on my own. That was the first time he hit me. The first time I realised I was afraid of him. Afraid of his moods and his criticism and his violent temper.”
“Did you have a job?” he asked. It didn’t sound like she worked.
Geneviève shrugged. “No, and I wasn’t a prisoner. I could go out and do things. I always thought things were getting better and then there would be another night like last night and it would start all over again.”
She reached over and touched his face. “I can’t believe I stayed. I should have done what I did last night right at the start.”
He rested his chin on his fist. He could imagine always thinking things might get better. And he guessed once you were frightened escaping would seem harder. Still she’d got away this time.
He reached for her again to comfort her. She curled into him, warm and soft and fitting just right.
Chapter Eight
Adam woke facedown and alone in his bed with the sun streaming into the room through the thin curtains.
Who closed those? He didn’t remember doing it, and from what he remembered of how things had gone with him and Geneviève it was bloody good that the garden outside his bedroom window was overgrown and the foliage came way up past the windowsill.
And where was Geneviève? He shifted onto his back, and all the muscles in his body yawned in protest. They still wanted sleep, but something had woken him.
Then he heard a knock on the door again and Luke’s voice.
“You awake, mate?”
“Yeah,” he yawned. Bloody Luke.
“Chapman wants us to crate up our stuff. The shipping company’s picking it up tomorrow morning to get it to Brisbane. We’re going to the pub to do it now, are you coming?”
Adam sat up and ran his fingers through his hair, then picked up his phone and checked the time. Three, it must be three in the afternoon.
“Yeah, just give me a minute,” he said to the door. He’d packed a bloody lot into today so far and now he had to get up and start moving again.
The door swung open and Luke’s face poked through the gap. “If you’re wondering where she is, she’s in the kitchen talking to Tessa and Keira.” Luke managed to deliver this news quietly.
Adam yawned again. “Thanks.” Geneviève was still here. Her husband hadn’t tracked her down yet.
He rolled out of bed. How did he let himself get into this situation? He should have learned his lesson with Tessa. Don’t get involved in other people’s shit.
“Have I got time for a shower, so I feel human?”
Luke snorted. “Yeah, we can wait that long.” Luke disappeared again, and Adam gathered up what he needed and headed for the bathroom.
He could have done with about fifteen hours more sleep. And going to sleep in the afternoon after a one-night stand meant facing that awkwardness twice.
He could hear talking coming from the living area, the sound of the PlayStation then Cole laughing. It all sounded normal. Then he heard Geneviève’s voice. He couldn’t tell what she said but the cadence washed over him and the memory of that couple of hours before he fell asleep warmed him. And this time he remembered what had happened. The best sex he’d ever had.
Did she feel the same way? It felt like she’d been as into it as he had. And from what he remembered she hadn’t just initiated it. She’d insisted.
He pushed the bathroom door open, dumped his clothes on the vanity and turned the shower on.
Geneviève had been amazing. But what next?
Showered and dressed he headed for the lounge and found Geneviève, back in her hood rat disguise, PlayStation controller in her hand, taking Cole on.
She looked up as he came through the door and half smiled then went back to concentrating on the screen.
The sound of gunfire and explosions filled the room.
Geneviève pumped the air. “Beat that.”
“You cheated.” Cole bumped her along the couch with his hips. “Move over so I can get my revenge.”
Adam watched Geneviève grin at Cole and a wave of jealousy swept over him. Bloody Cole and his way with women.
Geneviève stood and came over to him. “I’ll give you time to catch up,” she said to Cole then slid her arms around his waist and kissed him. “Did you have enough sleep?”
He nodded. No awkwardness at all. But she had a husband, and he had to leave in four days. A bit difficult when she was everything he wanted. Even dressed as a hood rat she was still lovely. Ignoring everyone else in the room, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back.
“Break it up you two.” Luke’s voice came from somewhere. “We’ve got work to do.”
Reluctantly, he pulled his attention away from Geneviève. “What do we need to do?”
“Crate up all our gear, anything we can’t take on the plane as luggage. It’s getting picked up from the pub at eight o’clock tomorrow morning, so it’s better if we do it today.”
He had no idea how you’d even start. “What do we need?”
“It’s all sorted.” Luke headed out the door. “We were working while you two were having a fuck fest.”
Geneviève pulled a face at him and he shrugged. If she hung around for a while, she’d get used to Luke and his big mouth.
“We’re all meeting at the pub then?”
“Yeah, we’ll get this done and then Isaac and Cole can head home.”
“Are you helping?” Adam looked over at Isaac, surprised he planned on helping with the preparations.
Isaac nodded. “Luke thought it’d be quicker if there were two of us who knew how to swing a hammer and use a saw.” He stood up ready to follow Luke outside.
Adam finally let Geneviève go. It looked like he was spending the next hour or so crating up. “Okay, meet you there.” Luke and Isaac might be builders in their real jobs, but rest of them weren’t completely useless. Isaac probably just wanted to make sure they did it properly and didn’t wreck anything.
He turned back to Geneviève. “Do you want to come? It might be boring.”
She nodded. “I want to come with you.” She slipped her hand into his.
Isaac’s ute was parked in the drive way, the tray had pallets stacked high and strapped down.
“You’ve been busy,” Adam said as Isaac swung into the cab. Jess went around to the driver’s side and climbed in.
“Yeah, Luke’s had me running around since he got the phone call from Chapman.”
“Are we just strapping the gear onto those?”
“No, that’s all we could get at short notice so we’re building c
rates when we get to the pub apparently.” Isaac shut the ute door, then backed out. He guessed the toolbox on the back of the ute had enough tools in to get the job done.
Luke and the others had already gone. They’d been parked on the grass at the front of the flat. They must have let him sleep deliberately while they were getting everything organised. That suited him, he’d needed the sleep. He felt a hell of a lot better than he did when he woke up this morning.
“Hop in,” he said to Geneviève and unlocked his car. He wanted to get to the pub before anyone started dismantling the electronics. It’d be his job to put it all back together and he wanted to supervise the taking apart.
At the pub, the rest of Stadium were standing on the stage, hands on hips surveying the gear they had. There was more in the side room and all the electronics gear in the sound booth. You could collect a lot of stuff in three years.
Luke scratched the back of his neck. “How much do you think we need to take with us?”
“Everything.” Cole sat on the steps going up to the stage. “We don’t want to be rushing around trying to buy stuff when we get there.”
“Yeah,” said Luke. He looked over at Adam. “If you deal with that,” he nodded at the sound booth. “We’ll sort the rest and get the crates made. Tell us the dimensions you’ll need.” He looked at Noah.
“What do you want to do about the violins and guitars?” asked Noah.
“I’d rather take them with me on the plane. Don’t want them wrecked,”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” said Luke.
“Okay. What about the keyboard and drum set?” asked Adam.
“They’re going to have to be crated. Can’t see them as carry on.” Cole stood up. “Let’s get started. I’ve still got work tomorrow even if you lot haven’t.”
Geneviève followed Adam to the back of the bar. There seemed to be musical instruments everywhere. There hadn’t been at the flat. Just a guitar in Adam’s room.
“Why do you get to pack all of this up?” she asked. Cole and Noah were working together dismantling the drum set and Isaac and Luke said they were going to get the tools and the pallets off the back of the little truck, but Luke had sent Adam down here to work on his own.
