by Leah Ashton
She almost said something about her being far too heavy—but she stopped herself. Gray wouldn’t listen. And besides, for once in her life she actually didn’t feel all that big. In fact, she didn’t think she’d ever felt more feminine. More pretty.
‘So?’ he prompted.
‘What do you want to know?’
‘How about you tell me what it’s like to represent Australia.’
Lanie closed her eyes for a moment, thinking. It took a mental shift to refocus on her past successes. They seemed a lifetime ago.
‘It’s such a cliché,’ she said. ‘But, honestly, just being there was incredible. I wasn’t expected to make the team—even six weeks before the trials I never thought I had a chance. I’d been unwell earlier in the year—a bad case of the flu—so even to make the team as a relay swimmer was a huge achievement. Then when I got there...’
She spoke for longer than she’d intended. Told him about her sense of anticipation before the relay heats, how the noise of the crowd had somehow drifted away as she’d stood on the blocks, waiting for the split second the previous swimmer touched the wall. How the whole meet had seemed surreal—even the weeks and months after.
Even now it felt as if that experience had happened to somebody else.
‘It’s an amazing thing you achieved—you do know that, right?’
Lanie caught Gray’s gaze as he studied her face. ‘Yeah,’ she said honestly. ‘I do know. No matter what else happens in my life, I’ll always have that.’
‘But you really wanted more.’
She blinked, surprised. ‘Of course. At one point I had a chance of swimming in the women’s hundred metres as well as the relay. I had a really good year. But then a couple of the younger girls caught up with me.’ Lanie managed a casual laugh. ‘As you mentioned once, I’m not all that young for a swimmer.’
‘You’re not old, either. Twenty-six, right?’
‘Good internet searching,’ she teased.
‘Plenty of time for a new dream, then.’
Instantly Lanie went tense and rolled away from Gray to sit on the edge of the bed, her back to him. Her eyes scanned the room, trying to locate her clothing.
‘Why do you do that?’ he asked. ‘Why can’t you answer that question?’
‘Why do you keep on asking it?’
Her shirt was just within arm’s reach and she snatched it up, pulling it on over her shoulders in an awkward movement.
‘Because the drive that got you so far doesn’t just go away. No one trains that hard for so long without being a little bit obsessed.’
He paused. He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know.
‘I love my career,’ Gray continued, ‘and I love Manning even now, even when it isn’t going as well as I’d like. I need it. I need that focus. It’s different, but still I guess it’s an obsession. I can’t imagine not having it.’
It was on the tip of her tongue to argue. To tell him he was wrong, that it was completely different.
But maybe it wasn’t. It seemed ridiculous that she and Gray could be similar in any way at all, but was it possible?
Lanie wasn’t entirely convinced. Besides, he wasn’t the first person to ask what she was going to do now. To want to know how she’d fill this new void in her life.
But he was the first person to persist when she didn’t answer. The first person who seemed to need to know—as if it was incomprehensible to him that she could exist without a goal. Without a dream.
Because he knew that he couldn’t.
So maybe they weren’t so different after all.
With a sigh, she stilled her hands, her shirt still half unbuttoned. She twisted around to face Gray and pulled her knees back onto the mattress.
‘I told a friend the other day that I was going to go back to uni. Finish a degree I started a few years ago.’
Gray nodded.
Lanie chewed on her bottom lip, knowing she could just leave it at that. She’d answered the question and now watching Gray watching her, she knew this time he wasn’t going to push.
But he knew in a way Teagan hadn’t that she wasn’t all that sure going back to uni was the answer. It was clear in the way he looked at her. In the still lingering questions in his eyes.
‘The thing is,’ she said eventually, ‘I don’t know if that degree is what I really want. If it will lead me anywhere near where I want to go. Wherever that is.’ There was a long, long pause. ‘I don’t know what I want at all.’
Her throat felt tight and she blinked away the prickling in her eyes as she crawled across the bed to Gray. He met her halfway and drew her into his arms.
Then she kissed him—because she desperately wanted to, and also because she didn’t want him to see her cry.
* * *
The next day was Saturday, so they had breakfast at Bob’s Café.
They didn’t swim, or run, as Luther wasn’t really up to either. Instead he curled up at Gray’s feet, banging his cone-shaped collar on their chair-legs whenever he moved. It was warm, and they weren’t alone in pretending it was already summer: the café was packed, as was the beach below them.
Bob came over with a menu, handing it to Lanie.
‘Taking the weekend off?’ he asked her.
She nodded, but Gray could see her smile was a little forced.
‘I’ll be back in the water on Monday,’ she said.
‘Good, good...’ the old man muttered, then wandered away to take an order from another table.
Lanie leant back in her chair and propped the menu against the edge of the table. Her sunglasses-covered eyes were looking at Gray, and not at what they were going to have for breakfast.
‘He doesn’t give up,’ she said. ‘I don’t get it.’
‘Bob?’ he prompted.
She nodded vigorously. ‘First he was on about me swimming, and now that I am he’s checking up on me. It’s bizarre—like he’s convinced I’m going to make some amazing swimming comeback or something.’
‘Is that why he’s asking?’
Lanie shrugged. ‘Why else would he?’
Gray didn’t know, but the man’s persistence bothered him. Lanie wasn’t going to swim competitively again. She’d made that clear. She certainly didn’t need someone making her feel guilty about that, however well meaning.
‘Do you mind if I ask?’
‘Knock yourself out.’
A few minutes later Bob returned to take their orders.
‘Lanie’s retired,’ Gray said, which wasn’t exactly what he’d meant to say. There was an edge to his tone he also hadn’t intended—but then, he’d never been known for his tactfulness.
The older man appeared unmoved. ‘Yes, I’m aware of that.’
Lanie leant forward. ‘And I’m not planning on competing again. When I swim now I’m not training. I’m just swimming.’
Bob turned to her. ‘I know that too. So, what can I get you today?’
Lanie gave a little huff of frustration. ‘Then why do you keep asking me about my swimming?’
For the first time Bob seemed to realise that Lanie was unhappy. There was a spare chair at their small table, and he pulled it out to sit down.
‘It’s simple, really, Lanie—you’re a swimmer. A beautiful swimmer. You should swim. You’re unhappy when you don’t. I’ve seen you swim on TV before—I’ve seen the fire in your eyes and the joy you take to the pool. When you quit you were miserable.’
‘I was miserable because I didn’t make the team,’ she clarified.
Bob shrugged. ‘Possibly. But you’re happier now you’re swimming again.’ He stood up again. ‘Now, what can I get you?’
They ordered, and Gray studied Lanie as she sipped her coffee.
‘Tha
t was kind of weird,’ she said. ‘But kind of nice.’
‘Anyone who’s seen you swim can see where he’s coming from. You’re something else in the water.’
A natural. His ocean nymph.
Gray smiled at such an uncharacteristically romantic idea.
Look what Lanie did to him.
* * *
‘Do you feel like a swim?’
Lanie raised an eyebrow. ‘What? Now? It must be almost midnight. And,’ she added, ‘it’s not exactly warm.’
The weather’s premature attempt at summer had disappeared along with the setting sun. After breakfast they’d walked leisurely along the beach with Luther, enjoying the warmth and the salty breeze. Later they’d gone out to pick up Thai food for dinner, and by then it had been cool enough for Gray to wrap an arm over Lanie’s shoulders as they’d returned to his car.
The action had surprised her—yet it had also felt somehow natural and almost normal.
Kind of like the entire weekend.
Now they sat together on one of Gray’s soft leather sofas. Lanie had her feet curled up beneath her and a half-finished glass of wine in her hand. Gray was sprawled out beside her, his feet propped up on an ottoman. Beneath the bridge of his legs lay Luther, happily asleep and snoring softly.
‘Why not? My pool’s heated.’
Lanie grinned. ‘Ooh, fancy.’
‘Only the best for Luther.’
She looked down at the slumbering dog. ‘I don’t think he’s up for a swim.’
‘No,’ Gray agreed. ‘And I can’t say he’s my preferred swimming companion tonight.’
His gaze caught hers and held—and its heat made Lanie’s skin go hot, and somewhere low in her belly became liquid.
Lanie wondered if at some point she would get used to this. To her instant, visceral reaction to Gray.
Then he smiled at her.
A slow, sexy, smile.
No, she decided. She wouldn’t—she couldn’t.
Everything about Gray—the way he looked at her, the way he touched her, the sound of his voice—was almost too much. She’d never get used to it.
At the back of her mind a little voice niggled, attempting to remind her that she wouldn’t get the chance to get used to Gray, anyway.
Lanie didn’t know what this weekend was, but she did know that right now she couldn’t think beyond it. And Gray certainly wasn’t. They had tonight and tomorrow. That was it.
‘I didn’t bring my bathers,’ Lanie said.
Another smile. ‘I don’t think that’ll be a problem.’
* * *
The pool was deliciously warm.
Lanie swam its length under water, heading towards Gray’s board-shorts-clad legs in the shallow end.
She surfaced beside him, standing. Her upper body cleared the water and her skin goosepimpled where it was exposed to the cool night air.
It was dark in Gray’s garden, the only light coming from tiny uplights that glowed amongst the decking that surrounded the pool.
‘You do realise you are very nearly naked in that get-up?’ Gray asked. His gaze roamed over her—slowly enough to make her skin tingle.
Lanie glanced down at her underwear. She’d stopped at home earlier that day, so she was wearing her absolutely best lingerie—pale pink satin edged with white lace. Unfortunately at the time it hadn’t occurred to her to grab her bathers, and underwear wasn’t that great a substitute. As she’d expected, her bra clung to her like a second skin—and she didn’t want to even think what the chlorine was doing to it.
‘But I’m not naked,’ Lanie said primly. ‘I really do feel modesty is quite underrated these days.’
Gray’s mouth curved upwards. ‘Or,’ he said, ‘you’re just chicken.’
Lanie sniffed deliberately. ‘Well, I think I deserve a little more respect for showing some decorum—’
Her words ended on a shriek as Gray launched himself at her and they both ended up underwater. By the time they resurfaced Lanie was sans bra, and Gray held it aloft triumphantly.
Lanie couldn’t help but grin back—especially as she realised it didn’t bother her at all to be topless in front of Gray. How strange... Only minutes ago she’d almost lost her nerve while undressing beside the pool, but now—unexpectedly—it was okay.
Quite possibly Gray’s very admiring gaze had something to do with it.
‘You are gorgeous, Lanie Smith,’ he said, soft and low.
Suddenly uncomfortable again, she automatically moved her arms to cover herself.
Gray’s eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t,’ he said.
‘Gray, I’m not gorgeous—’
‘Want to race?’ he interrupted.
‘What?’
‘To the other end and back? Ready?’ He didn’t wait for her to reply. ‘Go!’
He was off in a huge splash of water before she’d had a chance to register what was going on.
And because it was so ingrained in her she found herself swimming after him as fast as she could.
But even with a championship-quality tumble turn he still beat her back to the wall.
‘I knew it!’ he crowed, tongue firmly in cheek. ‘That was just a lucky race in Vietnam.’
‘How about we go again?’ Lanie asked. ‘This time both starting at the same time.’
Gray shrugged. ‘I’d love to, but...’
‘But?’
He grinned. ‘This way we finish with me winning.’
Lanie laughed out loud.
But her laughter faded away to nothing when Gray stepped closer. He reached out to tuck a stray strand of soaked hair behind her ear.
‘I like your hair like this,’ he said.
‘Wet, messy and knotty?’ Lanie asked in disbelief. She reached up, patting at her hair ineffectually.
Gray’s hand moved to still hers. ‘Slicked back like this, so I can see your face properly.’ He moved his hand from hers to trail a fingertip along her cheekbone, then down along her jaw. ‘You have a lovely face.’
She shook her head unthinkingly and Gray’s fingers slipped beneath her chin to still the movement. He tipped her chin upwards, so she was forced to meet his steely gaze.
‘Let me say nice things to you, Lanie.’
She looked away, looked everywhere but at Gray—at the plants around the pool, the water surrounding them, then up at the moon.
But Gray still held her gently in place, and now he leant forward, his breath warm against the damp skin beneath her ear.
‘I’m not making this stuff up, Lanie. I mean it.’
His words and his proximity made her shiver.
But not quite believe him.
And he knew. He sighed loudly in frustration. ‘I’m not in the habit of lying.’
Lanie took a step backwards. ‘You barely knew I existed until recently. Can you see how that might leave me a little unconvinced of your compliments now? From invisible to lovely or gorgeous is quite a jump.’
She could just process the idea that he was attracted to her, but the concept that she was anything approaching beautiful was a step too far.
‘Lanie, I—’
She ignored him. ‘You didn’t even notice—’
She stopped, not liking the vulnerability in her tone.
‘Notice what?’
She attempted a smile. ‘My make-over. You know—new outfits, new hair, new make-up?’
Gray’s forehead furrowed as he considered her words.
Suddenly Lanie wished she’d done as her mother had always taught her and simply thanked Gray for his compliment. She didn’t even know what she was trying to achieve—did she actually want Gray to agree that, in fact, she wasn’t even close to beautiful?
Really,
there were far worse things to deal with than a man like Gray insisting on pretending she was something she wasn’t.
‘The day I asked you to come with me to Vietnam,’ Gray said.
‘Pardon me?’
His look was typical frustrated Grayson Manning. ‘That was the first day you came to work after your make-over, or whatever. It was, wasn’t it?’
Lanie nodded mutely.
‘I thought so. Your hair was different. It reminded me of the day you tied it back for the first time. I remember I liked it.’
Another silent, incredulous nod.
He stepped forward, closing the gap between them again. He reached out, sliding a hand onto her hip beneath the water. Somehow she’d managed to forget her near naked state, but Gray’s touch was an instant reminder. And now she didn’t feel awkward or shy. Instead the soft breeze against her skin felt...amazing.
So did she.
‘Why did you do it?’ he asked softly. ‘The make-over?’
‘I was sick of being invisible,’ Lanie said. ‘And not just to you,’ she added, only for the first time acknowledging that. ‘But also in general. I’ve spent my whole life in my little sister’s shadow.’
‘You’re not invisible, Lanie. I didn’t pay as much attention as I should have, but I did notice you. Everything’s been about Manning for me these past few months. It’s all I think about it. It’s all I do.’ He paused, as if he’d just realised something surprising. ‘Until now,’ he said. ‘Actually, ever since you argued with me about Vietnam.’
‘Not agreeing with you instantly is not arguing,’ she pointed out.
He shrugged his shoulders dismissively, but smiled. ‘Since then, I can assure you, you’ve been far, far from invisible.’
His hand at her hip pulled her closer, then closer still, so she was pressed up against him, skin to skin.
She tilted her head upwards so their lips were only centimetres apart—but Gray didn’t close that small gap.
‘You’re gorgeous, Lanie.’
He waited, her gaze caught in his.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
Then—finally—he kissed her.
* * *
