“I’m going in for another dip.”
He gave a mock groan. “Give me fifteen and then I’ll join you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Serves you right for stuffing yourself silly.”
“But…prawns.”
She laughed and turned towards the water. The moment she dove into the turquoise depths, he seized her phone and scrolled through her messages. There must’ve been over fifty of them sent from Eunice in the last twenty-four hours! Nasty, guilt-tripping messages that had his blood surging to an angry boil.
He punched in his father’s number. “Dad, take Eunice’s phone away from her. And you can tell her from me that if she sends one more message like the last one, I’m going to tell Erin to dump her in a nursing home.”
He hung up, fuming. Things were worse there—far worse—than he’d ever imagined. Damn it! Why hadn’t Erin confided in him? No wonder she was strung up so tight. That mother of hers had barely given her a moment’s peace since they’d left Belltrees.
And yet somehow amid all of her mother’s demands, the crazy lead up to Christmas and the frantic preparations for their trip, Erin had found the time to leave a huge hamper on his desk filled with all of his favorite things—homemade fruitcake, a selection of craft beers, a big jar of macadamia nuts, a DVD he’d been dying to watch, but the jewel in the crown had been the Superman comic that would complete his collection. He’d been searching for that for years. Years. She’d known how badly he’d wanted it. It had made his Christmas. It had made his year! And now he meant to do the same for her.
Half an hour later Erin reached for her towel, playfully flicking him with water. “Change your mind about that swim, lazy bones?”
He’d been too busy plotting and planning. “I’m saving my energy.”
“For?”
“Dancing.”
She cocked an eyebrow as she wrung out her hair.
“Tonight we’re drinking cocktails and dancing.”
“Excellent.” But it was a rote reply as she reached for her phone to check for messages. The tight set of her jaw relaxed a fraction when she saw there were none. Why on earth hadn’t she just turned the darn thing off? Why did she let her mother walk all over her like this?
“But first…”
She dropped the phone and started towel drying her hair. “First?”
He rubbed his hands together “First we’re going shopping.”
She stared at him. “You hate shopping.”
“Not today, I don’t.”
“So…” Erin, fresh and clean from a shower, planted her hands on her hips and glanced around the boutique—one of many—that the resort boasted. “We’re looking for dancing glad rags?”
“That’s exactly what we’re doing.”
The grin Josh sent her did something funny to her stomach. She frowned and shook herself. Maybe she’d had a touch too much sun today. “I don’t need dancing glad rags, Josh. I brought along my dress pants and a couple of little tops.”
“Ah, but you didn’t pack anything like this did you?”
He turned, holding up a scarlet mini-dress, and all she could do was gawp. “I didn’t pack anything like that because I have no need for a dress like that.”
“You do when you have dancing on your mind. The sad fact is you didn’t pack anything like this because you don’t own anything like this.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” That dress would barely cover her backside.
“Stop press!” He shoved the red dress back to the rack and raced over to a neighboring rack. “Look at this.”
He held up a yellow halter-neck dress with a floaty knee-length skirt in a beautiful silk blend and it was all Erin could do not to drool. She flicked over the price tag and almost swallowed her tongue. Outrageous! Her mother would say it was an utter waste of money.
It’s my money.
“Ah, so this one has caught your eye.” He sounded triumphant. She didn’t know whether to laugh or to thump him. “You never wear dresses.”
“I wear maxi-dresses in summer when I’m not working.”
“Those things aren’t dresses. They’re sacks!”
They were comfortable. And cool. And when she wore them she managed to avoid her mother’s derision. These days she’d do anything for a bit of peace.
But your mother isn’t here. She need never know.
“You should wear dresses like this. You’ve a nice figure. You should show it off a bit.”
She blinked.
“Great legs.”
She glanced down at her legs, currently encased in a pair of cargo shorts. It wasn’t like Josh to compliment her. She did her best to squash the rush of pleasure that bloomed through her.
She and Josh had been on precisely one date together—eight years ago. It’d been an utter disaster that still made her wince whenever she thought about it. He’d kissed her and she’d promptly thrown up. Not the best date of her life. She hadn’t blamed him for not trying to kiss her again.
The upside, though, was that rather than having a short-lived romance, they’d become the best of friends. She didn’t regret that for a moment. Josh’s friendship was one of the most important things in her life. She didn’t know where she’d be without it. And she had no intention of risking it.
The phone in her pocket buzzed. With a sense of doom, she pulled it out to read the message on the screen. Hi Erin, Doc Halliday here. Just wanted to let you know I’ve confiscated your mother’s phone. Don’t be alarmed if you don’t hear from her. She’s doing fine. I just want her to be a little more sociable with the rest of us. She choked back a laugh. He signed off with, Have fun.
“Is something wrong?”
“Just a message from your father ordering us to have fun.”
He pushed the dress at her. “Dare you to.”
She glanced across at the menswear section, her gaze landing on an electric blue button down dress shirt with a print of black spirals swirling across it. She pointed. “Dare you to.”
“Nuh uh. Way too loud.”
She raised an eyebrow. He glanced at the shirt again. “You really like that shirt?”
She nodded.
He stared at the shirt and then at the dress. He grabbed a pale blue bikini and added it to her pile.
“A bikini?” she squeaked.
“For cocktails by the pool.”
She grabbed a pair of the loudest Hawaiian print board shorts she’d ever seen and thrust them at him. ‘I will if you will.”
“Deal.”
The dress fitted her like a dream. The bikini fitted her like a, um… Fanning her face, she turned away from the mirror. She bought them both.
Josh bought the shirt and board shorts.
They stood outside the store. Josh nudged her with his elbow. “There’s a beautician, hairdresser and massage therapist across the way.”
“Oh, I—”
“When was the last time you had a haircut? When was the last time you painted your toes, had a massage or put gloop on your face? Let your hair down, Erin. We’re on vacation.”
Now that her mother could no longer badger her she really did feel she was on vacation.
“I’m not even going to think about my credit card until next month.”
The grin he sent her made her buzz. It made her feel reckless and young. They only had a week. She would have fun. He’d gone to all this effort…she would enjoy herself. She grinned back at him. They both deserved a bit of fun.
CHAPTER FOUR
Erin stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. Pivoting, she craned her neck over her shoulder to examine the rear view. From the front the dress wasn’t too short, but she wanted to make sure the back was long enough as well.
Grabbing her purse, she pulled out her compact, held it above one shoulder and surveyed the image reflected back at her. She bent slightly at the waist.
Letting out a breath, she straightened again. The dress was a perfectly respectable length both front
and back.
Why are you even worrying about this?
She raised the compact a little and stared at her back. She hadn’t worn a halter-neck dress since she was a little girl. There was an awful lot of skin on display.
She snapped the compact shut. The neckline didn’t plunge and the skirt didn’t cling. Showing a bit of back wouldn’t hurt.
Pulling in a breath, she held it for the count of three before letting it out slowly. Tonight, she would be good company. It was the least she could do. Josh had organized this amazing holiday for her, but what kind of friend had she been to him lately, huh? She did a rough calculation and her heart started to thump. It was six months since he’d broken up with Becky. He hadn’t dated anyone since—not a single girl. Clients at the surgery were always trying to set him up, but so far he’d dodged their every attempt. And she didn’t know why. She’d been meaning to ask him about it, but she’d been so exhausted and caught up in her own little world that she hadn’t.
Her hands clenched. She would not turn into her mother. She would not become someone who couldn’t see beyond her own misery.
A knock sounded on her door and a glance at her watch told her it was 9:30 on the dot—the exact time Josh had said he’d collect her. She pulled it open. “C’mon in, Josh, I’m—”
“Whoa!”
She’d half turned away but at his exclamation she swung back and then lunged for the door before it could smack him in the face as it started to swing shut. He stood rooted to the spot, his mouth gaping, masculine appreciation lighting his eyes. She grinned and twirled on the spot. His mouth dropped even further, making her laugh. “You were right. The dress is perfect. I should take you shopping with me more often.”
“You look stunning!”
That was the moment she registered how his electric blue shirt heightened the color of his eyes. Josh normally wore cotton drill work shirts, like she did. Outside of work it was oversized tees and polo shirts. This shirt, though, had a tapered fit that outlined every muscle he possessed.
And, um…he possessed quite a few.
She frowned. She knew he was well built. How many times had she seen him haul off a work shirt after he’d had to do something mucky? Seeing him now in that dress shirt, though, did strange things low down in her belly. She gripped her hands together to stop from reaching out and testing the strength of his bicep.
In his tailored black pants he looked like a stranger. A very sexy stranger.
He scowled and gestured to himself. “It’s too much, isn’t it?”
His selfconsciousness softened her stomach at the same time as it straightened her spine, creating the oddest sensation of soft and hard. “It’s not too much at all. It’s—”
His eyes narrowed and he set himself as if readying for a joke made at his expense. “It’s…?”
She moistened suddenly dry lips. “You look great.”
He blinked.
“I mean…”
He raised an eyebrow.
She wished she could make some quip that would ease the tension stretching through her, but he didn’t deserve that. She settled for the truth. “You look hot. Seriously hot.”
He stared and then a slow grin spread across his face and her heart jerked about in her chest as if attached to the corners of his mouth. His chin lifted and his eyes glittered as he surveyed her, and for a moment she felt utterly unsure about him, out of step…had no clue what was on his mind.
Don’t be stupid. This is butternut-squash-Josh, Golly-Josh…just-Joshin’. Best friend, remember?
“Ready for a cocktail?”
He grinned and relief sped through her at the familiarity of that smile. Somewhere along the way he might’ve become sexier than any man had a right to be, but he was still her best buddy.
Josh’s scent hit her in the elevator—a mix of lime and cinnamon but without a top note of either dog or cow. Her nostrils flared in appreciation as a new top note emerged. It was fresh, like watermelon.
She closed her eyes. Lime, cinnamon and watermelon? It sounded like a cocktail. A dreamy, sexy cocktail.
A throbbing started up low and deep in her abdomen. Mmm…
A moment later her eyes sprang open. Staring down at her newly painted toenails, she edged away. She didn’t want to notice what Josh smelled like. She sure as heck didn’t want to find that scent so alluring.
“What are we going to have?” he said the moment they entered the bar, leading her to a vacant table and helping her up onto a bar stool.
She surveyed the menu, rather than him. “I want to try a mojito.”
He took the drinks menu from her. “Mint, lime, white rum…”
Lime, again. Thankfully he didn’t seem to notice her preoccupation with lime.
“I’ll have one of those too.”
He went to order the drinks.
She gave herself a metaphorical slap upside the head. Get a grip. They were here to have fun, to relax and laugh, not to…not for any other reason! They were friends. Just friends.
Hers weren’t the only eyes that tracked him as he came back with their drinks.
He handed her a glass. They clinked and then sipped. “Ooh!” Erin bit back a groan of pure appreciation. She took another sip and closed her eyes. “So good.”
When she opened her eyes she found Josh frowning at her, his eyes darkening to the same blue as his shirt. For a moment, their gazes clung, her heart gave a gigantic kick, and then they both glanced away, jiggling the straws in their drinks.
Erin cleared her throat. “Why haven’t you been on a date in over six months?”
At the same time he asked, “Why don’t you ever wear dresses like that in Belltrees?”
Neither question was as simple as it seemed on the surface. It occurred to her that it’d been a long time since she and Josh had talked about anything other than business or day-to-day stuff. “Truth or dare?” she challenged.
His gaze speared to hers. “For real?”
They’d played this back in high school…and a couple of times at university. They didn’t cheat either, not with each other.
“For real,” she agreed.
He stared down into his drink and an ache stretched through her chest. She stabbed her straw through a wedge of lime floating in her glass. “Do you regret breaking up with Becky?”
His head shot up back. “No! Is that what you’ve been thinking?”
She shrugged, refusing to scrutinize the relief flooding through her. “Just checking.”
“It was messy, though.”
She grimaced and nodded.
Becky, a local Belltrees girl, had wanted to settle down and start a family. She and Josh had only been dating for seven months…but the signs had been there for everyone to see.
Except Josh, apparently.
Erin had never clicked with Becky, but she’d resigned herself to having her as a best-friend-in-law. Tepid feelings aside, though, if she’d thought for a single moment that Josh hadn’t been as invested in the relationship as Becky, then she’d have spoken up.
She should’ve noticed.
“I thought we were just having fun.”
By fun he no doubt meant sex.
“I didn’t know she had marriage and babies on her mind.”
To his credit, when he had realized he’d called if off. Becky hadn’t taken it well, accusing him of leading her on. In a small town, a thing like that could divide people. Some had taken her side. Some had taken his side. Wiser heads had simply waited for it to pass over.
Erin sipped her drink. “It was messy and she made things unpleasant for a while, but it’s blown over now.”
“For which I’m grateful, but…”
“But?”
“I don’t want a repeat performance.”
“No.” Rightly or wrongly, another incident like that one would earn him a reputation in Belltrees. And it wouldn’t be a flattering one.
“The thing is, unless I want to date twenty-one and twenty-two year
olds, girls my age are starting to think about marriage and babies.”
The average age for an Australian woman to have her first child was twenty-eight. She and Josh were twenty-six. She leaned her arms on the table. “Don’t you want to get married and start a family one day?”
He lifted one of those impressive shoulders. “Sure I do. One day.”
One day a long way off, evidently.
“Do you want a water?”
With a start she realized she’d already drunk half of her mojito. Oops! “Yes, please.”
He set off for the bar and Erin shifted on her chair to survey the room. She had to bite back a smile at the female interest he excited as he made his way back to their table.
When he set down a carafe of water and two glasses, she opened her mouth but he cut her off.
“Your turn.”
Fair was only fair. Informing him of the female interest fluttering all about them could wait a bit longer.
“You want to know why I don’t wear dresses like this in Belltrees, even though there’s rarely anywhere to wear them to?”
“There’s the odd party and—” he rolled his eyes, “—wedding. Besides, lots of girls wear dresses on Friday or Saturday night at the pub or the golf club. Not as fancy as that one, but still…”
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d spent a Friday night at the pub or a Saturday night at the golf club. She pushed on before he could point that out too. “Remember those months between finishing school and starting university when I went a little wild?”
He shrugged. “That was just a bit of teenage rebellion.”
Most kids rebelled when they were fifteen or sixteen. She’d waited until she was eighteen. In hindsight, it wasn’t much of a rebellion either—she’d experimented with alcohol, worn short skirts.
“A group of us went to the coast for a few days.”
He frowned.
“You were at the beach house with your family.” After their disastrous kiss a few weeks before, he’d wanted to avoid her. She hadn’t blamed him. In fact, it was that kiss that had her acting out. She’d felt she’d blown her one chance with Josh. Which she had. But that’d worked out for the best too.
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