“Have you told her you love her?”
“I—” Nolan came to an abrupt halt and spun to stare at his brother. “Fuck.”
A grin spread across Tyler’s face. “You don’t get bent out of shape like this if you don’t care. I figure you must love her if you’re thinking of a future, but you need to tell her. She’s not a mind reader.”
Nolan heaved a sigh, the idea feeling newer than it should. But it wasn’t as if he or Tyler had received a good demonstration of the finer emotions between adults. He couldn’t recall his parents embracing. No, their interactions were generally sniping matches.
“I’ve hurt her. Before the reality show, we were seeing a lot of each other. I used to spend quite a few nights at her place.” He scowled. “Somehow Mum got wind of it and she started spreading rumors about Yvonne. Then Mum entered me in that stupid show and I decided on payback. I should’ve explained things better. Instead, I backed off because I wanted Yvonne out of Mum’s firing range.”
“Bro,” Tyler said, his tone sympathetic. “A woman mightn’t understand. She wouldn’t see you were trying to protect her.”
“You think? How the hell am I going to fix this?”
“You’re asking me for advice?”
“Quit being a smartass and help me.”
“Tell her about Dad and Elizabeth, about me. Explain you were coerced into doing the show and wanted to protect her.”
“And if that doesn’t work?”
“Play the long game and show her by deed. Be her friend, and when the right opportunity presents, tell her you love her.”
“And if she doesn’t believe me?”
Tyler clapped him over the back. “The long game, bro. If you really love her, then she’s worth fighting for, worth taking a few knockbacks. As long as she isn’t seeing anyone else, you’re in with a chance.”
Nolan nodded, seeing the sense of patience even though it galled him.
Later that afternoon, he and Tyler drove to the rugby grounds and prepared for the game. When they ran onto the field and he scanned the sidelines, searching for Yvonne.
“Enough of that,” Connor said, nudging Nolan sharply in the ribs. “Mind on the game. Sexy women come later.”
Yvonne enjoyed the rugby game. She stood on the sideline with Susan, Christina and Maggie clapping and cheering each successful drive and run the Hawks made toward the try line.
“What’s the score?” Julia asked, breathless and beautiful with Ryan and Caleb in tow.
“They’re actually winning,” Maggie said without taking her gaze off the game. “Connor will be so excited. Go, go!” she screeched when the Hawks got the ball. It flew from player to player and everyone cheered until one of the opposition did a head-high tackle on Tyler.
“Boo!” Susan shouted, and the supporters on their side of the field echoed her cry.
“Penalty,” Maggie said, seconds later. “I wonder if they’ll kick for a goal or decide to run the ball.”
Yvonne joined in the banter, her earlier sullen mood gone after shopping with the girls and her hair appointment earlier in the day. They were in Auckland until the following evening, so she might as well make the best of things. No matter what Nolan said, she couldn’t risk getting hurt again. Marriage—well, she’d thought she was getting forever when she said “I do” and look at the result. Her husband and her dance partner.
The final whistle blew, and the Hawks’ supporters jumped up and down in excitement, applauding wildly.
“We’ve won a game,” Maggie said. “Twenty-one to three. It’s unheard of. We need to celebrate.”
“Later at the club,” Julia said.
“Is anyone going to the clubrooms with me?” Maggie asked.
“I will,” Christina said.
“I’m going back to the hotel room to have another hot bath. My muscles are killing me,” Yvonne said. “You girls have tired me out.”
Susan gave her a quick hug. “I’m going to head off too. Want to share a cab with me? Maggie, can you tell Tyler and Nolan we’ve gone?”
Back at the hotel, Yvonne ran the bath and gathered her hair into a topknot, pinning it in place so she didn’t get it wet. Her morning visit to the hairdresser might have been expensive, but her dollars were well spent. The man had wanted to cut more off the length, and she was still wondering why she’d listened to Nolan’s plea to keep her hair long.
The bubble of the spa bath eased the ache in her arms and legs, and once dressed in a new pair of black trousers and a tunic top, she felt heaps better. She made a cup of peppermint tea and sat by the window in the late afternoon sun. The harbor was a busy place with ferries sailing over to Devonport and off to places farther afield. A tall ship drifted in the distance, the sails billowing with wind.
The door opened. “Yvonne?”
“I’m here,” she said, setting her tea aside and standing.
Nolan came to an abrupt stop. “You look beautiful.”
Pleasure sizzled at his compliment. She’d thought she looked good, but Nolan was devouring her with his gaze and her confidence soared.
He stepped closer. “Can I kiss you?”
Relief threatened her knees. She gave him a bright smile, happy that their argument seemed consigned to the past. His hands drifted over her hair, now highlighted with golden streaks and about four inches shorter. The hairdresser had also layered it to give shape and take out some of the weight. He smiled and leaned closer to rub their noses together before taking her mouth in a slow and thorough kiss.
“We need to talk,” he said eventually. “But I don’t want to spoil the rest of our weekend by arguing. No,” he said when she started to speak. “Let me just say this, then we’ll get back to the enjoying part. I want to be more than friends with you. I understand I’ve hurt you, and I need to make up for that. Let me prove to you how good we are together.”
“I don’t understand.” His kiss—so full of sensual promise—had addled her brain, making it difficult for her to concentrate.
“I know, sweetheart. I want to be your husband, and I’m willing to wait until you’re sure of me.”
“But—”
He placed his hand over her mouth to halt her confused words. “I need a shower. I decided to head back here after the game. Do you fancy a walk along the waterfront? We could have a drink at one of The Viaduct bars.”
“That sounds nice,” Yvonne said.
“Great. I won’t be long.”
Yvonne stared at his back as he walked away, her brow knit in bewilderment. He wanted to marry her? She’d thought…
Heck. Friends, yes. Sexual benefits, yes. But marriage?
She’d gone into her first marriage with blinkers firmly intact. Sure, she’d experienced happiness during those years and she had her sons, but the way her marriage had ended still played with her confidence. She found herself stalking to the bathroom.
“You want to marry me?” she demanded, bursting into the steamy warmth.
“Yes,” he said over the sound of the water.
Yvonne sank down onto the edge of the bath, the chill of the porcelain beneath her bottom and the brief flash of discomfort in her butt cheeks driving her to her feet again.
“Not right now, but in the future. Once you’ve realized I’m serious about you, about us and the boys. And maybe we could add a little girl to our family.”
“Oh.” She found herself biting her bottom lip and stopped. He hadn’t mentioned love. She opened her mouth to ask and reconsidered. No. She agreed with him about one thing. She wanted to enjoy the rest of the weekend, and if he said he didn’t believe in love or some other such male thing, she might hit him. That would spoil the weekend.
He turned off the water and opened the door to snag a towel. “You really do look beautiful. I like your hair very much.”
Yvonne hugged the s
incerity of his compliment to her heart. “It’s been a long time since anyone told me that.”
“Really? I’ve slipped up then. Because not only are you beautiful, but you’re sexy as hell. I’ve half a mind to drag you to bed and show you exactly how I feel about you.”
The pleasure in her deepened and took on an edge of sexual excitement. “You’re pretty sexy yourself, Mr. Penrith.”
“So I’m on a promise for later tonight?” His wide grin threatened her knee stability and she reached out to hold onto the door.
“Count on it,” she said and sashayed back to her cup of peppermint tea.
Chapter Six
Back in Clare, Yvonne slipped into her daily routine. Days passed and Nolan didn’t mention marriage again, although he spent a lot of time at her house. Sometimes he stayed late. Sometimes he left as soon as the boys went to bed. And sometimes, like today, he took half an hour and stopped by the café for coffee and one of Gina’s savory muffins.
“Everyone’s staring,” Yvonne said under her breath.
“Let them.” Nolan shrugged without concern and placed his hand on top of hers.
Immediately Yvonne heard the rise of whispers, sensed the exchange of I-told-you-so glances.
“They’ll get over it soon enough. Would you like to go to the pub for lunch on Sunday? It’ll be me and Dad, plus Eric and Josie since it’s their last day here in Clare.”
“What about the boys?”
“It’s a family lunch,” Nolan said, squeezing her hand. She saw his lips twitch at the flurry of muted words that floated from the elderly ladies sitting at the next table. “Of course the boys are invited.”
“I’d like that,” Yvonne said.
“Good. I’d better go. Some stupid idiot took the corner too fast and went through my fence. I patched it last night, but I need to pick up some wire and batons and do a proper fix.”
Yvonne stood and started to gather their empty cups.
Nolan touched her arm and smiled. “I’ll see you later tonight. Probably after the boys go to bed.” Then he kissed her, a quick, brief kiss that did little to quench her desire for physical contact, yet made her tingle all over anyway. “Be good.”
Yvonne laughed. “That gives me plenty of leeway.” She watched him until he disappeared outside before clearing their table. The silence pierced her happiness bubble, and she glanced up to find herself the focus of the café customers. Most wore smiles and approval. “Show’s over, folks,” she said and gave an elegant bow. Applause followed her out the back.
“What’s going on?” Gina asked, looking up from rolling out pastry. A dusting of flour covered one cheek and a few wisps of iron-gray hair curled from beneath her chef’s hat.
“Nolan kissed me goodbye in front of everyone.”
“Good on the boy. I wonder how long it takes that to get back to Elizabeth.”
“I don’t want to talk about that woman,” Yvonne muttered. “And she’d better keep her broomstick away from me.”
Gina gave her pastry another pass with the rolling pin, then turned the oblong with deft hands. “That woman is judgmental. Always has been and I doubt she’ll change, although you’d think she’d learn after driving both sons and her husband away. I heard Samuel is going out with Daphne Chester.”
“Really? That must be difficult for Elizabeth. They’re not divorced yet.”
“He’s visited the lawyer,” Gina said. “Daphne told me that. She wouldn’t go out with him otherwise.”
Yvonne let out an indelicate snort. “This town is a hotbed of gossip. What with the feud between the O’Grady’s and the Drummonds, the Penriths’ split and the Shakespeare sextuplets coming home to do a reality show, the local tattletales are spoiled for choice.”
“You forgot to add the Mathesons,” Gina said, her tone dry. “The original Matheson was a real black sheep, and they say the daughter takes after her ancestor with all her shenanigans.”
“I don’t think I’ve met her.”
“No, she’s been overseas for a while. You’ll know the minute she hits town.” Gina cut rounds of pastry and lined tins. “Can you grab the meat pie mix out of the fridge?”
Yvonne retrieved the covered dish of steak and onions in thick gravy and handed it over. “I’d better get back out front before the natives get restless.”
“Is it serious between you and Nolan?”
Yvonne stopped halfway to the door and turned to her aunt. “He says he wants to marry me.”
“I don’t see a ring on your finger.”
“I told him I wanted friendship and that was all.”
“Yet you let him kiss you in the middle of the café where people could see. The locals have already started a sweepstake. I thought I might take a punt, but you need to give me the inside scoop.” Her aunt let out a sharp cackle. “You should see your face.”
A call went up from the front. “Yvonne!”
“I’m needed,” Yvonne said in a dignified voice. She left to the sound of her aunt’s hoots of amusement.
Yvonne kept busy with making coffee while her assistant took orders and cleared tables. In the bookstore section, customers browsed the shelves and the cash register pinged its happy song every time the assistant rang up an order. Business was booming since the reality show. Clare seemed to have hit the tourist map big time.
The doorbell announced a new arrival, and Yvonne glanced up. She fumbled the jug of hot milk she was heating and burned her hand. “Damn.”
Yvonne turned to grab a can of cold soft drink and held it to her smarting skin while she spied on Elizabeth Penrith. The woman waved at her circle of friends—the same ones who’d whispered and witnessed the earlier kiss—before stalking to the counter to place her order. Why the devil had they started coming to Gina’s Books, anyway?
Yvonne surveyed the pinked skin and decided she’d live. She went back to building her order of coffees. Low murmurs floated to her, but she firmly ignored her impulse to lift her head and glare. If she shrugged off gossip, people would soon tire of her and move on to the next juicy tidbit. As Gina said, they were spoiled for choice.
“Good morning, Yvonne,” a cool voice said.
Yvonne’s hand slipped again and hot milk sloshed on the back of her hand. “Bloody hell,” she muttered, letting the cup go. It wobbled, and in slow motion, toppled to the floor. Damn and blast.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Elizabeth said.
“Good morning, Mrs. Penrith,” Yvonne said, and hoped her bared teeth bore a resemblance to a polite smile.
“Please call me Elizabeth. I’ll let you get on. I can see you’re busy.” The woman’s grim countenance lightened and the corners of her mouth lifted. She gave a nod and trotted away to join her friends.
Yvonne stared, and aware of the renewed whispers, started picking up the larger pieces of broken china.
Gina appeared seconds later, gave the floor a swift look and made a clucking sound. “I’ll get a mop,” she said, and retreated to the kitchen.
Later that night, Nolan rushed through the door, bringing with him the cool of a rainy night. Yvonne raised her head for his kiss, recoiled at the touch of icy lips.
“You should have stayed at home. It’s miserable outside.”
She took his coat, shook off the worst of the rain before hanging it up on the empty hook next to her boys’ jackets. Should she tell him about his mother’s weird behavior?
“This is home for me, Yvonne.” His gaze was steady on hers as he said the words, his sincerity blazing through. “When I think of home, you and the boys are the first things that come to mind.”
“Oh, Nolan.” His words undid her, tore away the makeshift patches on her heart. With two quick strides, she reached him and flung her arms around his neck. Like a monkey, she clung to his large body, uncaring now of the chill.
> “Let’s go to bed,” he whispered against her lips.
“It’s early.”
“Who said anything about sleeping? We’ll warm up.”
A gurgle burst from Yvonne. Tinged with happiness, it surprised her, shocked her since she couldn’t recall the last time she’d made that saucy sound of compliance. Nolan swept her into his arms and headed for her bedroom. He shut the door with his hip and deposited her on the bed. He followed her down, caging her in his arms, taking possession of her mouth. Hunger exploded between them—hot and molten, urgent.
She flicked her tongue against his, the move provocative and earning her a sensual growl.
“Wait. I’d better lock the door. Do you want me to check on the boys first?” He punctuated his words with a slow hip swivel. The throbbing hardness of him scored her belly, and instinctively, she wriggled until they notched together in perfect alignment.
“I’ll go.” Yet she didn’t move, couldn’t move when her heart ached with fullness.
He lifted away, his grin one of masculine satisfaction. “I’d like to see the boys. They look angelic when they’re asleep and recharging.”
“Nolan,” she whispered so softly she knew he wouldn’t hear. She rolled over to her side, hugging herself in an effort to contain her joy. In little ways, he’d edged into her life—some might compare it to an insidious disease. His methods contained that sort of silent creep. Despite her or in spite of her, he’d grown roots here and wrapped them around her heart, around her sons until they’d all started to accept him, to miss him when work kept him absent.
She’d cleared a hook for him on the coat rack.
Nolan had transformed this house—her and her sons—into a home. The final barrier around her heart let go with an inaudible whoosh. It allowed a sliver of fear through to nip at her happiness. She wanted to tell Nolan she loved him, but he hadn’t said the words either, and she couldn’t help remembering her husband, contrasting the two.
Her husband had professed his love. He’d told her they’d have a happy life, forever.
He’d lied.
“The boys are sound asleep. Hey, those look like heavy thoughts.” Nolan tugged a lock of her hair.
Part-Time Lovers: Clare Chronicles, Book 1 Page 8
