Headstrong

by Meg Maguire

  “What do you do, exactly?”

  “Teach tae kwon do,” he said. “Part time.”

  “That’s what you did in England too.”

  He nodded.

  “Kids or adults or…?”

  “Both,” he said. “All kids this morning. Then I get most of the afternoon off.”

  “Does it pay well?”

  He laughed as if to say “hell, no” and Libby grinned.

  “But I get keys, so it’s a free gym membership. I can use the studio whenever I want after classes are out.”

  “That’s cool. So…”

  Reece raised his eyebrows.

  Libby straightened up in the doorway. “Have you given my offer any more thought? It still stands.”

  Reece glanced at the alarm clock by his bed. He stood, and Libby enjoyed the sight of his body as he grabbed a clean white T-shirt from his dresser. Long, lean muscle and fathomless calm.

  “I don’t know.” He tugged the shirt on.

  “Well, it’s on the table. It’s good money. And I’m getting sick of acting like a normal girl, worried you’re watching me.”

  “I haven’t been.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’ve been reporting a load of bull to your father, but no photos. He’s getting impatient with me, I think. To be honest, I don’t enjoy spying.”

  “I can help you get some shots,” Libby offered. “Without spying. And you should decide soon, before he gives up on you.”

  “Can’t you find something better to do with your trust fund than play this sick little double-agent game with your daddy?” Reece asked, cold again.

  Libby gratuitously scanned his body. “I can think of several things I’d rather be doing, sure.”

  He didn’t reply, just hauled his gym bag onto his bed and removed a white tunic-style uniform and a long black belt. He tossed the dirty uniform into his hamper and replaced it with a clean one from the dresser.

  Libby eyed his belt. “Black belt.”

  “Yeah.” He didn’t look up.

  “Can I see?”

  “Sure.” He slapped it into her palm, and she unfolded the length of thick, quilted cotton. R. Nolan was embroidered in yellow at one end, Korean characters on the other. Each end had four red stripes.

  “What are the stripes for?” Libby asked, dredging her brain for ancient details imparted by grade-school friends who’d taken karate. “Degree?”

  “Yeah, it’s called dan. Same idea.”

  “And you’re fourth dan?” she asked.

  “You guessed it.”

  “Is that impressive?”

  He shrugged. “Depends on what impresses you. It’s taken me over twenty years to earn, so I hope it impresses my peers and students a little bit.”

  She held it to her nose. “Damn, it stinks.”

  “Stinky’s good. Means you’re experienced. You’re not allowed to wash your belt.”

  “Can you do a move for me?” She handed the belt back and mimed a little kung fu.

  “It’s not a parlor trick.”

  “Don’t get all serious on me, lover. I saw you and Colin peeing your pants over Jackie Chan last night. You know it looks cool. Do something cool-looking for me.”

  Reece smiled dryly.

  “Can you do that thing like you’re about to kick me in the face, but then you freeze your foot like an inch away?” she asked, excited.

  “Will it make you shut up?”

  She thought a moment. “Possibly.”

  “Right, I’ll take those odds. Let’s go in the living room.”

  “Gorgeous.” Libby led the way.

  Colin was on the couch, flipping through a newspaper. He looked up as Libby stepped to the center of the room to face Reece. “What’s going on here?”

  “He’s going to fake-kick me in the face,” Libby said. “It’s going to be awesome.”

  “Flash. Forgotten what happened the last time he unleashed the dragon, eh?”

  “I trust him. Go on, lover. Can you do that thing you did to my flare gun? That was good. The swoopy thing.”

  “Wheel kick?” Reece considered it. “Yeah…although you’re flipping tall.”

  “Do it, mate,” Colin said. “I’ll get a can.” He jogged to the kitchen, leaving Libby curious. He returned with an empty beer can and balanced it on top of her head.

  Reece fell back into ready-stance, fists raised at his shoulders. Libby held her breath.

  Colin stood by, arms crossed expectantly. “Don’t move, for goodness sake. Mum’ll kill him if he breaks your nose. She’s already picking out names for the grandchildren you’re going to give her.”

  Reece pivoted his entire body in a lightning-fast movement, and his heel made an arc from the ground to Libby’s head, knocking the can across the room and fluttering her hair. A split-second later he snapped back into ready-stance.

  “Holy shit.” Libby gaped with delight. “Do that in slow-mo. Away from me.”

  Reece complied, giving her a quarter-time performance of the kick.

  She clapped. “That was awesome. You are one flexible bastard.”

  “Ta.” Reece nodded to his brother. “He can do it too. He’s a black belt.”

  “Yeah, a delinquent first dan with no discipline,” Colin amended. “We’re not in the same league.”

  “Maybe you should come to class more regularly, then.” Reece looked to the clock on the DVD player. “Right, I need to head out. Do you need a lift into town?” he asked Libby.

  She shifted her jaw. She’d been afraid of this… She hadn’t thought her plan through beyond securing a place to sleep in Reece’s general proximity.

  Colin came to her rescue. “You’re welcome to hang out. I don’t courier on Tuesdays and I’m not due behind the bar ’til six. It’s still hosing out there.” He gave Reece a look that said plainly, I don’t give a shit if I just ruined your day.

  Libby glanced at Reece’s unreadable face, then back at Colin. “Is that completely inconvenient for you?”

  “Nah. It’s not like we can go anywhere, anyhow. I’ll make us some brekkie. We’ll play Jenga.”

  “Gorgeous, thanks.” She smiled from one brother to the other, and Reece disappeared into his room.

  “I’m not sure what I have to offer you that can follow being assaulted by Reece, excitement-wise,” Colin said.

  Libby shrugged and stared out the window. “Anything that means we can stay inside is fine by me.”

  “You’re in luck then. I’m very good at a variety of indoor activities.” He ran a mischievous hand over his freshly shaved chin.

  “Cute. I’ll stick with Jenga, though.”

  Reece whisked past them in jeans and a jacket, a gym bag slung over his shoulder. “Be good,” he said, the directive aimed at no one specific. He grabbed an umbrella from a coat hook.

  “Don’t forget your gummies,” Colin chimed in a grandmotherly voice.

  Reece replied with a rude hand gesture as the door shut behind him.

  “And think about my offer!” Libby shouted as his footsteps descended the stairs. She turned to the other Nolan, suddenly and inexplicably nervous to be left alone with Colin.

  He gave her a long, open study—not sexual, but not innocent either.

  “Thanks for letting me stay,” she said.

  Colin snapped out of his scrutiny. “Not a problem. I’ve got a girl coming over at noon, but you should join us. We’ll probably just sit around and watch telly. She’s pretty low-key.”

  “Wow, hot date.”

  An odd smile curled his lips. “Oh, she’s a real stunner.”

  “Do you always invite thirds along for your trysts?”

  “Stranger things have happened,” Colin said, giving Libby a look she knew well—the conspiratorial look of one sexually accomplished individual thinking they’d found a kindred spirit. “But I assure you that is not the order of the day, so you can just cool your jets, miss.”

  She followed him into the kitchen and hopped h
er butt onto the center island. She picked at her stubby fingernails as Colin assembled breakfast ingredients.

  “So, Reece is thirty-one, right? How old are you?” she asked.

  He tossed sausages into a pan. “Twenty-eight.”

  “Hey, me too!”

  “Nice. When’s your birthday?” he asked, slicing tomatoes.

  “February seventeenth.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at her. “No flipping way. I’m three days older than you.”

  “Wow, neat.”

  “Too right. We were both crapping our nappies at the same time then.”

  Libby laughed.

  Colin set the knife down, turning to aim a warm, sad smile at her. “You fancy Reece, don’t you?”

  She bit back her own smile and nodded, hoping this wasn’t about to turn awkward. “Is it that obvious?”

  “Nah. I’m just good with that sort of stuff. Don’t worry. Reece is oblivious.”

  She looked down, then fixed Colin with a narrowed eye. “Do you think he’d ever like me back? You know, like me, like me?” She knew she sounded like a twelve-year-old, but Colin was easy to level with—Good Cop to Reece’s Bad Cop.

  “I dunno. You mean if you dropped your provocateur shtick and quit winding him up all the time?”

  “Maybe.”

  He sighed. “I hate to be the one to piss on your parade, but you’re not really his type. Historically speaking.”

  “Oh.”

  “Sorry.”

  She frowned at the insecurity squirming in her middle. “What’s his type?”

  “Quiet, for one. Smart but, like, book-smart. Not scary, evil-genius smart like you.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Unlike Reece, I googled you. This morning.”

  Her stomach flip-flopped. “Oh?”

  He nodded. “Don’t worry. He doesn’t want to know what you did to freak your dad out—he can be a bit of a basket case about ethics. Stalking you notwithstanding. I think he’s going with the ignorance-is-bliss approach, so that’s just between you and me and the internet.”

  “Good,” she said, not entirely relieved. “So you know, I’m not in New Zealand to start any trouble.” Her history was murky, riddled with police run-ins over various minor offenses. And some not-so-minor.

  Colin shrugged. “I like your kind of trouble. But I believe you—if you were out to cause that type of chaos, you came to the wrong country. I’m willing to believe you’re here for the glowworms.”

  She nodded.

  “And at any rate, Reece fancies boring girls. Sweet…curvy.”

  “Now that I am not.”

  “Nah. You’re a panther. Reece is into house cats. Girls who teach kindergarten or start their own catering companies. Wholesome stuff like that.”

  Libby pouted.

  “Hey, don’t give up or anything. You’re bloody hot the way you are. I’d wrap your legs around my ears in a heartbeat.”

  “Poetic. Thanks, Tiger.”

  He shrugged. “You know Reece. Or actually, you don’t. He’s…he’s like a monk, all calm and disciplined. He’s been that way since he was born. You’re like a tornado let loose in his monastery. Personally, I think you’d be good for him. But I don’t know if he’d agree… I hope he does. He could use a little chaos.”

  “Maybe.”

  “But if you’re driving him loopy,” Colin went on, “thinking it’s going to win him over, you’re wasting your time. Reece doesn’t go in for head games. You might want to try a little sincerity. He’s a sucker for the straight and narrow.”

  “I see.” Libby contemplated the option of sincerity for a moment. The thought of all that openhearted honesty made her feel naked.

  Colin straightened up. “If you don’t mind my asking, what do you see in Reece? Not that you shouldn’t see something. I’m just curious.” He tossed tomatoes into the pan, seeming uncomfortable with own jealousy.

  Libby raised her eyebrows, deciding recklessly to play with a little of Colin’s fire. “Do you think I’m barking up the wrong Nolan?”

  “I know it’s none of my business.”

  “You think you could teach me a thing or two, don’t you?”

  He smiled deeply and, if Libby wasn’t mistaken, blushed. “What makes you think I wouldn’t prefer to be the student, eh?”

  It was Libby’s turn to blush. Oh, if you only knew.

  “I can tell you’ve only got eyes for my brother. Although Christ knows why,” Colin said through a sigh, pretending to be insulted by her preference. “But if you’re looking for a Kiwi conquest, I’m delighted you’ve set your sights within our lucky little flat. Let me know if I can aid in the expedition at all. He could do with having his brains properly fucked out. Might loosen him up.” He didn’t notice Libby’s deepening flush. “Reece, though? You do like a challenge.”

  Libby looked at her feet. “Well, I mostly like that he’s never made a pass at me. Or even really looked at me, that way.”

  Colin laughed. “Oh, he has. He’s just too Zen master to show it.”

  She glanced up. “You think?”

  “You’re hard to ignore, Libby, even without the nonstop flirting. You make a trackie top look like a teddy. Reece has noticed you. He said he saw you dancing about in your togs on the beach.”

  “That he did.”

  “Poor bastard.” Colin handed her a fresh cup of coffee.

  “Thanks. Well, he’s never made me feel like he was checking me out. He’s…he’s not a creep.”

  “Nah, he’s a gentleman. He’ll make a good plod.”

  “A what?”

  “A copper,” Colin said. “He’s meant to start training for the police in a few months.”

  Libby gaped. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. He’ll be great at it.” Colin looked genuinely proud. He flipped the sausages with a sizzle.

  “Wow.” Libby Prentiss, policeman’s wife. How twisted would that be? “But wait—so they’ll have to do like a whole background check on Reece, presumably.”

  “Yeah, all that good stuff. I know what you’re thinking.” Colin cracked an egg into a second pan. “About what he agreed to do for your dad?”

  “Yeah.”

  He nodded. “Reece took a big chance on that. If you’d reported him when you caught him, for spying on you or whatever, he’d have been buggered. Or if he got caught, doing shady, under-the-table shit.” He cracked another egg. “Buggered.”

  “Why’d he do it, then? He doesn’t seem to want the job.”

  “We need the money.” Colin’s voice turned heavy. “Pretty bad. Our dad died in January, and we’re up to our necks in bills and unpaid accounts for the pub. It’s all a bit effed up. Our mum kept it all quiet until after he passed. He was a good guy but he took on some investments he shouldn’t have, this nasty spiral of IOUs. We owe money all over the place and business is not good. Pub’s on the brink, and that’s all we’ve really got.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Libby thought for a moment. “How much money?”

  “About eighty grand. On top of the usual accounts.”

  “Yikes.”

  “Yeah, it’s a whopping great mess. Every week some supplier or other cuts us off. Our mum’s probably going to have to give up her house, and even then we’ll still be in the red. This nest could get mighty cozy, soon.” Colin glanced around the flat, his apprehension plain. “Trust me, Reece would never have taken that job if we weren’t hard up for the cash.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  Colin flipped the eggs. “Reece is cautious, to a fault. Always has been. I was as shocked as anybody when he said he was going to work for your dad. But he’s been gone a long time, and he was MIA for some rough shit that’s gone on around here. I think this is his way of making up for all that, or trying to. Doesn’t look like he’s feeling too keen for it now though. Failure’s not his strong suit. Don’t take it too personally if he’s hard on you. You wrecked his plans. Give him some time to
lick his wounds.”

  Libby nodded, thinking. “Well if Reece doesn’t want my father’s gig, why don’t you do it? I’m trying to convince him to be my double agent. Document me on my own terms, for a generous bonus. He’s not really taking the bait. If he hates it so much, you should do it. Maybe Reece could recommend you as a replacement.”

  Colin laughed, his eyes squinting and his dimple reappearing. He turned to Libby and held out his tattooed arms, presenting himself as a package. “No father would hire me to stalk their daughter.”

  He had a point. “No, I guess not. And not my father, especially.”

  “Plus I’ve already got two jobs. And anyway—don’t pretend you’re not hoping my brother’ll be forced to keep sharing your company.”

  “Touché.”

  A few hours later, rain was still lashing the windows, the sky outside dark and dreary but the flat above the pub warm and comforting. Libby and Colin were sprawled at either end of the couch watching bad Australian soap operas and taking turns refreshing the coffee supply. Colin had his newspaper spread over his legs, but Libby could sense him getting sucked into the melodrama on-screen, interrupting on occasion to air amusing bits of commentary.

  Libby tore her eyes off the TV at the sound of footsteps mounting the stairs. She looked at the clock on the DVD player. Twelve-oh-eight. Her stomach gave a flutter she couldn’t identify. “That must be your girl.”

  “I should hope so.” Colin offered her a devious wiggle of his eyebrows.

  He rose and opened the door as a woman in her midthirties with mousy-brown hair and a tired smile reached the landing, lugging a car seat with a fat-faced, red-haired baby strapped inside. Both were soaked from the rain.

  She kissed Colin on the cheek and waved hello to Libby.

  “Libby, this my sister Annie. Annie, this is Libby, a friend of mine and Reece’s. And Reece’s future wife, if Mum has anything to say about it.”

  “Hey,” Libby said, smiling.

  “All right, Libby?” Annie offered a weary grin and set the car seat down. “Thanks, Col. Sorry I’m late. And sorry in advance—her nappies are toxic today. I don’t know what did it, but phew.”

  “Can’t wait. What time are you back?”

  She untangled herself from a diaper bag and handed it to Colin. “About four. Anything you need from in town?”