Birthright

by Fiona Lowe

  Luke shook his head, mirth rolling across his cheeks. ‘You were a Hanson fan?’

  ‘Weren’t all fourteen-year-old girls?’

  ‘I just never took you for a teeny-bopper.’

  ‘I think I bopped with the best of them.’

  His expression disagreed. ‘On my fourteenth birthday, Mum and Dad took me and my brothers to Tony’s. Back then, pizza was my favourite food.’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘Medium rare, truffle-salt-infused Angus steak.’

  ‘Not to be specific or anything.’ She wanted to laugh but stopped herself. He constantly surprised her and that made him far more dangerous to her equilibrium and her long-held commitment to herself.

  ‘Hey, you won’t scoff when you taste it.’

  ‘I’m vegetarian.’

  He pressed his fist to his chest. ‘You’re breaking my heart. Anyway, back to my story. You walked into Tony’s dressed head to toe in black and wearing a T-shirt with some sort of “up yours” slogan. I figured you’d got into grunge music. I planned to ask you but I never got the chance—you left for boarding school soon after that.’

  She knew exactly which night he was talking about but it stunned her that twenty years later he was mentioning it. ‘Why would you even remember that?’

  Just like the time he told her he knew the lyrics to ‘Let It Go’, the tips of Luke’s ears burned red. ‘Jeez, I really shouldn’t drink whiskey. It’s like truth serum.’

  ‘Too late now,’ she said with a grin and refilled his glass.

  ‘Well, the thing is, Ellie Jamieson,’ he said, clearing his throat, ‘I … I had a bit of a crush on you back then.’

  ‘Really? You used to tease me that I ran like a girl.’

  He shot her a sidelong glance from under his messy hair, his eyes bright with mischief. ‘And you chased me. It worked pretty well until we went to high school and you realised the older boys had far more sophisticated pickup lines.’

  She laughed. ‘You mean things like, “You’re hot. I’m hotter. Meet me behind the shelter sheds?”’

  ‘See? Up against poetry like that, I had no hope. I was benched with the mortals and you were this vivacious whirlwind of colour that made everyone else look pale and insipid. My brothers teased me mercilessly. Eventually even Mum and Dad gently suggested you were way out of my league and that your mother wouldn’t let me anywhere near you. After that photo of you in the paper at Sarah’s wedding, there were rumours that you’d got a modelling contract in Melbourne. I think that’s why, when you arrived at Tony’s in head-to-toe black instead of the bright colours you always wore, it stuck with me.’

  She glanced down at her black boots, baggy pants and bulky polar fleece and an old ache burned. No. ‘Looks like the only thing that’s changed is I lost the “up yours” T-shirt.’ The quip fell flat.

  ‘You still into grunge music?’

  ‘I’m into comfortable clothing.’

  He sipped his whiskey, deep in thought. ‘What happened to colourful Ellie?’

  Her heart twisted. ‘She grew up.’

  ‘Did she come out?’

  Deflect. Deflect. Deflect. The direct question shot her protective barriers into place with the speed of a falling guillotine. ‘You should have warned me that whiskey totally destroys your filter.’

  He shifted his weight and set down his glass. ‘Actually, it’s got nothing to do with the whiskey. I’ve been wanting to ask you that question for weeks.’

  It wasn’t the first time someone had asked her if she was gay, but it was the first time the question came from someone she didn’t want to lie to. If she told Luke the truth, she had a very strong suspicion he’d take the answer as an opportunity to ask her out. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings by saying no.

  ‘I told you how I got pregnant with Noah.’

  He shrugged. ‘Traumatic situations make us do crazy things. You said so yourself.’

  ‘Gay, straight or bi, it doesn’t change who I am.’

  ‘I get that. But I need to know.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you’ve been living with three out and proud lesbians. Because …’ He ran his hand through his hair, tugging at it. ‘Sometimes I get this amazing flirty vibe from you that makes me walk on air. Other times, it’s like there’s this enormous patch of bindii stretching between us and if I stand on it, it’s gonna hurt like buggery. It’s confusing the hell out of me.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘I don’t know what else to say.’

  ‘Okay then, how about this. Do you feel a vibe?’

  Don’t touch it. Leave it alone. It will only end badly. Say no.

  But the quiet voice of her counsellor rose in her mind. There are good men in the world, Ellie. Only you can decide if you believe that.

  She drained the glass as hope and fear split her in two. ‘I … I’ve felt it.’

  ‘Thank God.’

  He was suddenly close, his body solid in front of her. Alarm leaped, skittling along her veins and sending her pulse soaring. No escape. No way out. The edge of the bookcase pressed hard against her back, reinforcing her stupidity.

  ‘Ellie?’

  The hesitancy in his voice made her look up. The smile on his face dazzled her like the diamond sparkle of snow on a sunny day and she glimpsed the young boy she’d once raced along the perimeter of the school grounds.

  This is Luke. He brought you coffee. He made you tea. He’s only ever been kind.

  You know kind is just an illusion. That nice always gift-wraps the ugly truth.

  Panic ramped up, detonating bombs of agitation in every cell, and sweat drenched her. For the first time in years she’d let down her guard and now she was trapped. The outcome was inevitable: he was going to kiss her. He would wrap his arms around her, pull her in close and whisper in her ear. A silent scream shrieked in her head. Amid the swirling fear, the survivor in her struck out, separating herself from the situation with chilling calm. Seizing control, she pressed her hands against Luke’s shoulders to keep his body from touching hers, and then she leaned in and kissed him.

  Nine years had passed since she’d last kissed a man but somethings didn’t change. She knew exactly what she was doing. Tilt the head. Close the eyes. Press lips against lips. Flick tongue along lips. Slip tongue in mouth. Roll tongue on tongue. Flick—

  Luke pulled away.

  Her eyes flew open and focused.

  He was frowning at her.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I can’t work out if you want to do this or not.’

  This is your out. Take it and run. ‘I guess the vibe is off. We’re obviously not kissing compatible.’ She ducked sideways and crossed the room, positioning herself closer to the door and a clear exit, should she need it. ‘Win some, lose some.’

  ‘Don’t go pulling any punches.’ He rubbed his face. ‘This is exactly what I’ve been talking about. Why tell me you feel a vibe and then kiss me like you’re painting by numbers?’

  She’d expected aggression and was ready to match it but he sounded utterly poleaxed. The hurt in his voice slayed her.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘No!’

  The word hung in the room, but he didn’t move towards her or try to get close to her again. Instead, he lowered his considerable frame onto the old couch and crossed his arms. He was an immoveable, bewildered and decidedly pissed-off force.

  ‘Sorry’s way too easy.’

  His ability to cut straight to the essence of an issue scared the hell out of her. ‘You do realise I can just walk out and leave you sitting there.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘So …?’

  He shrugged. ‘Talk to me.’

  She opened the door. ‘Or you could just leave.’

  He dropped his head for a moment, looking like the weight of the world rested on his broad shoulders. As he sat back, a sigh rumbled out of him. ‘Ellie, I like to think I’m evolved. My dad taught me no
means no and my mother would hang, draw and quarter me if I ever disrespected a woman. God knows, I’d love to kiss you senseless, but I’m not going to do it if that’s not what you want. And that kiss you just gave me pretty much screamed, “Give him what he wants and get it over and done with fast.”’

  She couldn’t deny it; it was a modus operandi she’d used from her teens to her early twenties until the day it put her in physical danger.

  ‘I like you, Ellie. Sometimes I’m convinced you like me just as much. I’d love nothing more than to have the opportunity to get to know you and explore the possibilities of something deeper. If there’s any chance a part of you wants to try, I’ve got the time. There’s no need to rush into anything.’

  Dread drowned the last few strands of possibility and a sob she didn’t know she’d been holding back rose in her throat. ‘You’re too nice, Luke. And I’m too difficult.’

  ‘I doubt either of those are absolutes.’

  ‘Oh, they are.’ She wrung her hands against the tug of his sincerity. ‘I’m too much like hard work. No, scratch that. I am hard work. You deserve someone easier and a lot less screwed up than me.’

  ‘This isn’t my first rodeo, Ellie. I can decide that for myself.’

  She pressed her lips together to stop the sob from escaping. ‘You say that now, but you’ll change your mind. I don’t want to hurt you.’ I don’t want you to hurt me. ‘And there’s Noah. I won’t let anyone hurt him. He’s at a vulnerable age. Plus, all this shit with my family …’

  ‘I think you’re busy lobbing roadblocks at me so you don’t even have to try.’ He caught her gaze, his own intense and searching. ‘What’s really going on? Has some bastard done a number on you, Ellie? If he told you that you don’t deserve to be happy, he’s wrong.’

  His words crashed into her like storm waves pounding onto the shore and she fought back. ‘Oh, right and this is when you tell me that unlike every man who’s preceded you, you’re the one who’ll make me happy.’

  ‘Nope. I’m optimistic but I’m not stupid. You’re responsible for your own happiness. But I reckon I could contribute to it if you opened the door just a bit. Let me try.’

  ‘You scare me, Luke.’

  His shoulders dropped. ‘That devastates me.’

  A rogue tear rolled down her cheek and she blinked rapidly. ‘You know I’m prickly and sarcastic. You said yourself I blow hot and cold. I might make your life miserable.’ You might make mine miserable. ‘Why do you even want to try?’

  He held out his hand. ‘Because you’re you. You’re worth the risk.’

  His honesty sent all her protective instincts into freefall. She scrambled to pull them back, brick them into place and stay safe. It had been such a long time since she’d dared to trust anyone and she didn’t know if she had it in her to do it again. But suddenly it was harder not to try than to take his hand.

  She pressed her palm to his and their fingers entwined. ‘For your sake, I hope I am.’

  CHAPTER

  14

  Sarah checked the leg of lamb and turned the vegetables. Gus was coming for Sunday lunch. It had been a leap of faith to use the old oven in the flat, but it appeared to be maintaining its temperature perfectly and the potatoes looked crisp and golden brown. The idea for a roast hit her late the night before after she’d made a to-do list and written ‘Mum’s old will’ and underlined it. She planned to be on the doorstep of Dan’s office at eight thirty Monday morning.

  Ideally, she’d wanted to phone him that morning, but Mary Horton still cooked a traditional Sunday roast lunch just as she had all her married life, despite the fact Robert was no longer alive to carve and hold court at the end of the long mahogany table. Regardless of the busy life Dan led, and the fact he now had a family of his own, he attended his mother’s Sunday lunches. This both bemused and humbled Sarah. Politicians should reference the Hortons when they banged on about ‘traditional family values’; unlike her family, the Hortons had it in spades. Sarah’s roast lunch was an attempt to give Gus something that resembled normal.

  She was preparing the beans when his knock sounded on the door. ‘Come in, Gus,’ she called as she walked to the door. ‘It’s open. You don’t have to kno—’

  ‘Hello, Sarah.’

  ‘Alex.’ She stumbled over his name and the shock of seeing him standing in the doorway stilled her feet. She hadn’t seen him since she’d left Riverbend. The first thing she noticed about him was the fatigue lines dragging at his eyes. Concern flickered, but anger squashed it hard and fast, almost knocking her sideways. She rose on her toes and glanced over his shoulder. ‘Where’s Gus?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘You don’t know?’

  Alex’s jaw clenched at the screech in her voice. ‘He told me he’s getting here under his own steam. Something about Ebony and Jack.’

  ‘Then why are you here?’

  ‘Because we need to talk.’

  ‘Oh, really? And that went so well last time.’

  ‘Christ, Sarah. I never took you for a bitch but you’re doing a bloody good job proving me wrong.’ He stepped past her into the flat, aggression rolling off him. ‘By the way, great stunt taking leave without notice, but that’s not why I’m here. I don’t appreciate being made a fool of.’

  She had no idea what he was talking about but it didn’t stop her taking the cheap shot. ‘I think you’re doing a good enough job of that on your own with a woman fifteen years younger than you.’

  ‘Leave Kelly out of this.’

  ‘I don’t see how that’s possible when she’s the reason we’re in this situation.’

  ‘She’s not the reason,’ he muttered before swinging around to face her. ‘I’ve deliberately kept things quiet so less people get hurt. No one knows—’

  ‘I know!’ His betrayal burned all over again. ‘I fucking know, but apparently my feelings don’t matter.’

  ‘Your feelings?’ His voice rose. ‘What about mine? I’m doing my best to protect the kids and half the town sees you staggering home drunk with Edmund.’

  A stinging swoop of shock hit her. He knew? How? She couldn’t recall seeing anyone that night but then again, she’d been more than tipsy. And the only reason she’d drunk so much was because Alex had upended their lives for no good reason.

  ‘Half the town? Wow. I didn’t see that many people when I walked home with Edmund after dinner at the restaurant. I’m surprised that anyone even noticed two old friends walking together.’

  ‘Oh yeah, the two of you have always been good friends.’

  The hardness on his face made her start and guilt slithered in. ‘The three of us are close friends,’ she reminded him. ‘For eighteen years, Alex.’

  ‘No, Sarah.’ The edge in his voice was as sharp as a Stanley knife. ‘You and Edmund are close friends. I was only ever his employer.’

  Did a midlife crisis alter reality? ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve played golf with him. He delivered Gus—’

  ‘And I can hardly forget that when you remind me of it almost every damn time we see him.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, you mean once a year on Gus’s birthday? Gus loves hearing that story. And what about the ski trips and the houseboat holidays we took together before Catriona and the girls died? Friends do things like that together. When the bank refused his loan to start the restaurant, it was your idea to lend him the money. Only a close friend or family would risk that sort of cash.’

  ‘I gave him the loan so he’d quit.’

  What? They’d never employed anyone she trusted as much as Edmund. Back in the early days, she’d called them all the three musketeers and when Edmund left, it had placed a lot of pressure on her and Alex for months as they recruited and trained his replacements.

  ‘We had to employ two people to do his job.’

  Alex crossed his arms and his mouth thinned. ‘And I’d have employed three if it meant he wasn’t in our office and our home every damn day with you like a s
lobbering puppy.’

  She stared at him, gobsmacked. Surely Alex wasn’t jealous of Edmund?

  Why not? The moment things went pear-shaped with Alex, you slept with Edmund.

  Her stomach rolled and she sat down hard on a dining chair. ‘I had no idea you felt that way. Why didn’t you say something?’

  Uncharacteristically, he ducked his head for a moment before bringing it back up. ‘Would there have been a point? You’d have defended Edmund.’

  She opened her mouth to give an outraged, ‘No!’ and closed it again. It bothered her that her feelings were ambiguous. ‘At least I’d have known how you felt. I hope I would have understood.’

  ‘Maybe I didn’t want to take the risk that you wouldn’t.’ He ran his hand across the back of his neck. ‘But it’s a moot point now, isn’t it? Poor Edmund’s been back in our lives full time since the accident, seeking comfort from you.’

  His callousness shocked her. ‘His wife and daughters died!’

  ‘I know!’ he yelled back. ‘Do you think I want to hate him for losing his family? That his tragedy brought him back into our marriage and for eighteen months I’ve had to share you with him all over again? It makes me sick to my stomach that I feel this way but at least I can stop beating myself up about it, because the inevitable’s finally happened. For someone who was so outraged about Kelly, you turned to Edmund pretty bloody fast.’

  Pangs of conscience made Sarah’s grip on her resentment slippery. ‘It’s totally different. This isn’t some lust fest with a gold-digging bimbo. I’ve known Edmund for years. He’s a friend!’

  ‘And I bet he comforted you just the way he’s wanted to for years.’ Alex’s eyes narrowed, pinning her with vitriol. ‘Now the boot’s on the other foot, Sarah. You’re slumming it on the lowlands with the rest of us. If I find out he’s sleeping here, I’ll make things very difficult.’

  ‘Oh, take a number,’ she said, her anger deflating as exhaustion rushed in.

  ‘What?’

  His furious expression had changed to perplexed and two familiar concentration lines carved deeply across the bridge of his nose. They always appeared when he was trying to nut out a tricky problem and her heart ached. I miss you. The need to talk to him was so strong she kicked out a chair and poured two glasses of water from the jug she’d set on the table for lunch.