Hot Christmas Nights

by Rachel Bailey

  As it was, he didn’t need to pretend. The last time he’d seen Emma he’d been in a bad way; he couldn’t even remember the words he’d used, the things he’d said. But he could remember the way she’d looked at him. The haunted eyes, the disappointment. The relief that she was leaving him. That was burned into his memory like a brand. After five blissful years things had changed so irrevocably that she’d grown to hate him, and the pathetic thing was, he couldn’t blame her.

  As if sensing Daniel’s discomfort Bas looked at him. “You okay? Not wanting a beer?”

  “Yes. But I’m not going to have one.”

  Bas looked at him a long moment. He didn’t need to say anything, he’d walked the road with Daniel these last few years. He knew how it went. More, he’d been Dan’s unerring supporter. “Fair enough. Good on you.”

  “I’m giving it my best shot, mate. One day at a time.” Dan picked up Bas’s empty bottle. “I’ll just tidy up here before Megan gets on our backs for being untidy-”

  “Bas? Bas?” The gentle tinkle of chardonnay-fuelled giggles floated in on the warm summer breeze as someone came in through the back of the house, the porch screen clattering against the doorjamb. The voice behind him got louder as it neared. “Hey! Bas! Meg says she needs you outside to help fix the fairy lights—oh—”

  Daniel caught the scent of jasmine and honeysuckle and something else—something so familiar it had him swiveling round. He sucked in air.

  Emma.

  He wasn’t prepared for the jolt of heat that ricocheted through him at seeing her again after these last few empty years. She’d come to an abrupt halt, eyes guarded. Cool liquid blue pupils fixed on him. A taut jaw, a tight purse of those kissable lips. Her long auburn hair had been shoved on top of her head in a high messy ponytail, but tendrils drifted round her cheeks as she whipped her head from Daniel to Bas and back again. She was wearing a soft yellow dress with thin straps that showcased her body. Curves that had fitted into his hands perfectly. Long legs that he’d loved wrapped round him.

  And immediately he was flung back to that first endless summer when everything had seemed possible. Even a hastily arranged wedding. Turned out being possible and being permanent were two different things.

  He figured a hug was out of the question.

  “Welcome back to Waiheke, Emma. Oh, and merry Christmas.” He tilted Bas’s empty bottle towards her in greeting, going for casual and knowing his face was anything but. So much for all that training at cop school.

  Hers went from porcelain to beetroot in a nano-second. Clearly he still had an effect on her. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “Danny. Hello.”

  Danny. The only person in the world who called him that. Danny was someone else, someone in the murky past. “How was England?”

  “Great. Thanks. But it’s good to be back home. Er…How’s things?”

  Home? Since when was it home for Emma? She’d always had itchy feet. She was never going to stay on Waiheke, she’d made that clear the day she’d met him and he’d promised to chase that dream with her. But life had thrown other plans at him. “Ah, you know. I’m the same as ever.”

  She looked at the beer bottle in his hand. “So I see. Some things never change, eh?”

  “I guess not.”

  But he had. And how. That was a battle he’d fought hard and won—no point locking horns with her over it. He was of the mind to let it all go. This was Bas’s pre-wedding party, after all, he didn’t want to spoil it.

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw his friend disappear outside. Traitor. Daniel dragged his eyes from Emma and started towards the back door. “I should probably go and help Bas with the preparations.”

  “Running out on me already? Really? You can’t even bear to be in the same room as me for one whole minute?” Her eyebrows rose. She bit her bottom lip. Wary. Tense. “There was me thinking I’d left the frostbite behind.”

  “Still waiting for the thaw, Em.” And yet there was heat mixed with the ice he’d constructed around his chest. It had been his fault she’d left without him in the first place. He wasn’t angry with her, just angry with himself. With the fact that they hadn’t been strong enough to deal with the crap thrown in their path. And now they were stuck in a place neither wanted to be in; married and separated and living at the opposite ends of the world. “I’m needed out there, apparently. I have a job to do…and, to be honest, I just don’t know what the hell to say to you.”

  He should probably start with I’m sorry. But he’d never been good at verbalizing.

  “You and me both.” Holding on to the back of a chair Emma took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them the wariness had diminished a little. She even attempted a smile. Small, but there it was. “Look, I know we have a lot of stuff to go through but tonight we’re here for Bas and Megan—can we at least try to be civil?”

  “Sure. I can do that.”

  “Good. Thank you. It means a lot. She is my best friend—and he’s yours—and it’s a special time for them. I don’t want to ruin things.”

  “Noted. I can do civil no problem. I’ll keep out of your way—that seems to work.” A whole weekend of celebrations to get through where he’d be regularly rubbing shoulders with his runaway wife. Great.

  Then his eyes settled on hers and held for a moment. He remembered a time when he would stare into her gaze and feel as if he could see right down to her soul. Now all he could see was awkwardness. There was so much they needed to say, so much that needed working through, but he didn’t know where to start.

  Worse, that tug was still there. That irresistible pull towards her. For a few years they’d circled each other, created a life of love and fun and laughter, everything had started and ended with them, with their dreams, their cozy world, their precious unbreakable bond. Now they didn’t even know how to begin.

  He stayed exactly where he was. “So, in the interests of being civil, tell me where you’re staying? At your mum’s, I presume?”

  Emma sighed, her gaze dipping to the floor and then anywhere but back at him. “I should have emailed and let you know…but…well… I didn’t think it would be a good idea to come back to our house, Danny. Given that we, well… given that we’re in this situation.” Her gaze settled on her hands and she rubbed her left ring finger. No wedding band, not even a thin white line. She’d ditched the ring a long time ago, then. There was that tug on his heart again. Damn it. She looked back at him. “I will come round. Maybe tomorrow? There are a few things of mine I need to get. If that’s okay with you? When would be a good time?”

  For her to close that door on their relationship forever? Never. But things had irrevocably changed, he knew. “Any time—you still have your key? Just let yourself in. It’s your place too, you have a right to come and go as you please. I’m on an early shift, so won’t be home until after four.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  “How long are you staying for?”

  This time when she wrapped her arms round her chest, he wasn’t sure if it was an unconscious barrier or a comfort hug. Either way she was telling him to keep his distance. “Two weeks. I have a job starting in the New Year in Brisbane.”

  “This hemisphere? Getting closer.”

  “Yeah, you take the jobs you can get these days. There’s nothing in Auckland, little out of the city. Nothing here on this tiny island. But Brisbane sounds great. Mum’s already booking flights, she’s stoked to have me only a couple of hours away. She said you’d been to see her a few times, did the lawns.” Emma’s shoulders relaxed a little and there was a small smile. “That was kind, Danny. And surprising.”

  He took a step away. “You’re surprised that I can be kind?”

  “No. No, don’t be silly. I didn’t mean that. Of course not, I know you can be kind.” Wearily she shook her head. “You were just so wrapped up in all that other stuff when I left, I wasn’t sure…how you’d be.”

  “Two years is a long time, Emma. I’m fine.” />
  “Yes. Yes you are.” Her eyes grazed over his face, then down his chest. He wasn’t sure where else because he turned away, burning under her scrutiny. Damn it, when she looked at him like that all the familiar emotions washed through him. Heat. Longing. A need to hold her. Actually, a shocking need to touch her. But guilt was there too, fraying the edges, taking off the shine. Her voice brought him back, “I was wondering whether you’d moved on…? Are you seeing anyone, Danny?”

  “It’s none of your business, seeing as we’ve barely communicated in two years. But for the record, no.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Her eyebrows rose and her eyes darted to his left hand. And yes, he was still wearing his wedding ring. What of it?

  He wanted to ask her about any significant others too, but wouldn’t. It wasn’t his place. He’d lost the right to know about her private life a long time ago.

  Damn, this was worse than miserable. This was worse than he’d ever imagined, because in some dark part of his head he’d envisaged a huge blow-out argument, an opportunity to get all their issues out once and for all. A swift get-it-over-with end. But this? This was like a long slow painful death. And God forgive him, but all he could think was that Emma’s skin had missed the New Zealand sun, that her hair was longer and glossier than it used to be, that her eyes were tired. Beautiful, but tired.

  He’d missed her at first. Damn, and how. But he’d learnt to live without her. Eventually.

  “Okay, so I’m going out back to give Bas a hand. Good to see you again, Emma.”

  “You too, Danny. And…er, merry Christmas right back.”

  Yeah, right. With Emma here, under the same summer sun and clearly still deep under his skin, Daniel doubted there’d be anything merry about it at all.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Well, that went well.

  Not.

  Emma stayed in the kitchen gripping the glass of chardonnay in her stupid shaking hands, and watched the porch door shiver as he closed it behind him. She took a large deep breath, then slowly let it go, trying to steady her erratic heartbeat.

  For two years she’d been preparing herself for this very moment. She was going to be calm. Cool and casual. She was going to be pleasant but firm. She was not going to fall to pieces with one glance.

  But, damn, he was still beautiful. His dark hair was still cop-short but he had color in his cheeks now and looked healthier than she’d seen him in years. The uniform did to her what it always did—hell, she was all woman after all. She liked the way the shirt fit his body; all hard honed muscles and broad shoulders. The trousers…man, they accentuated a fine ass and those long strong legs.

  So yeah, he was still a god.

  And she’d tried so hard not to look into his eyes. But she just couldn’t resist. Warm dark brown that had her melting quicker than the New Zealand sun. But she wasn’t going to go there—once bitten, twice shy and all that. They’d been no good for each other, in the end. When things had started to go awry she’d nagged and he’d sulked and the whole thing had imploded. Time apart had been the best thing for her. And judging by the look of him—for Danny too.

  But trying to reach some sort of equilibrium seemed, whenever Danny Wade was around, just out of reach. The damned man had probably seen right through her brave face act to the trembling ninny she was. Because, despite not setting eyes on him for the last two years, he sure as hell still had the same effect on her. Always hot. Often crazy, senseless. Latterly devastating.

  That she’d loved him had been undeniable. That he’d crushed her and broken her heart—and almost her spirit—was bruised on her soul. Never again.

  Outside, music was playing, people were chatting. It was strange being a visitor to her home. Her old life come new; people had changed and grown without her. There were new babies, new relationships, even the island itself felt fresher, more vibrant, clothed as it was in pre-Christmas cheer. She’d been away so long she didn’t know where she fit any more.

  Sure, she’d made a life in Manchester, albeit filled with a busy on-call roster and sleep and late night jaunts to the pub for last orders with people she worked with and barely had a chance to get to know. But the GP training was done now. She could move anywhere she wanted in the world. She could make choices, be responsible for no-one but herself, climb Kilimanjaro or kayak across the Atlantic Ocean. She was free. Or at least, could be.

  So she’d chosen to say yes to Megan’s invite even if it meant facing her husband and the issues they’d both run away from. She’d used geography to distance them. He’d used a bottle—make that a few bottles—to railroad their plans. Although, to be fair, he’d had good reason to want to drown his sorrows back then.

  Realizing she was on her own and would be sought out for Maid of Honor duties at any minute she wandered back into the garden, keeping him in her sights but still very distant, and watched him chatting to a couple she didn’t recognize. In his hand was a glass of something that looked like water. That was new.

  “Aha! Caught you looking.” Megan sidled up to her, twisted her away so the guys wouldn’t see them talking about something so obvious. It was lovely to see her face-to-face after two years of internet chatting. Her old friend gave her a cheeky grin. “Told you he was getting better with age. Still yummy?”

  God, yes. “He seems different.” More confident, strident. Steadier than before she’d left. Was that because he hadn’t had her around to keep stuffing things up for him? Had she tried hard enough to help? Should she have run when he’d told her to go? He’d been ill, for God’s sake and even though she’d tried hard to help, she’d failed. Badly. And then left him.

  He was better now? And yet, he’d been cradling a bottle in his hand…

  “He’s worked hard, Emma. He’s getting there. You could…you know, give him a chance.”

  “Like he’d even want that. I left, Megan. He told me to go and I left, I didn’t fight him, I didn’t fight for us. I went. And I put it all behind me. We were over a long time ago.” What was the point of going over and over it? It was in the past. They’d both moved on.

  Megan put her hand on Emma’s wrist. “Thanks for coming back though, I know this is hard on you both. But I didn’t want to have my wedding without either of you.”

  “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. We’ll be grown-up about it, honestly. Don’t worry. We can stand being with each other for a weekend if it makes you happy.”

  “I am happy, although I have to admit to a teeny weeny bit of pre-wedding nerves. I’m so glad to have you back so you can talk me down.” Her oldest friend regarded her for a moment with that know-it-all, don’t-mess-with-me look. “Tell me the truth, though, Em. Are you happy?”

  Was she? Emma wasn’t sure if she knew how that felt any more. “That’s a trillion dollar question, Meg. The course was good. I passed. I’ve achieved the thing I’ve been working towards for the last ten years. I have a good job lined up. So, yeah, things are going great.”

  “Is not exactly an answer. What about that guy you were seeing in Manchester? The paramedic?” She drummed her fingers against her lip as she remembered Emma’s emailed description of him. “Hmmm…nice legs. Dimpled chin. Gorgeous bit of rough. Although, you were pretty coy in your emails. Was it serious at all?”

  “No. We ended it a few weeks ago because it just didn’t feel right. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, honestly, I’ve had a few flings but nothing serious, nothing seems to work. I figured I needed to come here and see Danny again before I can really start to settle down. You know…get some closure and all that.”

  Plus there was a file of papers in her luggage she wanted Danny to sign. To release them both from their responsibilities to each other. She wanted her friend’s take on it. No—she wanted to be reassured she was doing the right thing, because it had seemed like a great idea ten thousand kilometers away when she’d stared into the dark nights and pondered where they’d gone wrong. Now that she’d seen him in person her courage had started to waiver
a little. But talking to Megan about divorce a few days before her wedding would probably not be the most diplomatic of moves.

  Over the chatter Emma could hear dark throaty laughter that she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, was Danny’s. Something she hadn’t heard in a long, long time. And she was drawn to it, her whole body seemed intent on being the focus of that laughter, the center of his world all over again.

  An image flashed into her head of their own wedding, done on the cheap because money was tight—but nonetheless it had been amazing. They’d hired a local band and Dan had made her laugh so much with his goofy attempts at dancing. Like a scarecrow with uncoordinated arms and legs cartwheeling into the air. Woeful. But so funny. He hadn’t cared, then, about anything apart from making her happy.

  Don’t. A warning voice in her head. You’ve survived without him. Don’t lose yourself to him again. Keep away from Danny Wade.

  But with three long days and three hot summer nights up close and personal with him she had a feeling that keeping away was going to be very hard to do.

  “So Chatterball works like this: I throw the ball to someone and they have to catch it, introduce themselves, then answer whichever question is under their left thumb. Got it?” Bas threw the soccer ball to Dan. It was covered in squiggly writing in different colored ink. “You go first, mate. Start the ball rolling. See what I did there?”

  “The jokes never get any better, do they? Can I hurt you now or later?” Dan caught the ball and inwardly squirmed. He lowered his voice, speaking out of the corner of his mouth. “I have to hand it to you—you’re certainly dedicated to the mix and mingle cause.”

  “Compromise, compromise, compromise. And look at her, she’s glowing now that everyone’s here and trying to get along.” Bas nodded towards Megan who was indeed grinning happily amidst the large group of people crammed into their back garden. But Daniel’s gaze skimmed right on by the bride-to-be and landed on her maid of honor. She was standing in a corner, leaning against a trellis covered in tiny white flowers, wine glass in hand. The sun was starting to dip and cast her in an orange glow. Beautiful. A rare smile was on her lips as she must have known exactly what it was costing Daniel to be standing here doing this.