Angie’s program was something she’d created while volunteering at the retirement home when she’d first come to live in Patterson’s Bluff. Back then she was in the country on a working holiday visa and had been looking for the perfect place to set down roots. She’d rented the granny flat—a little studio unit—behind Jace’s house and while he was her landlord, they’d fallen head over heels for each other. Now she was a permanent part of their community.
“What are they asking for?”
“Everything.” She laughed. “Meredith is still intent on getting a pole dancing class for seniors, but we’ve had some pushback with that.”
“Too sexy?”
“Too physical. I think management is worried about the insurance.” She rolled her eyes. “At this stage we’re sticking with burlesque, because chairs seem a bit more manageable than poles. I’ve also been in touch with Kellen from the gym about running some strength and muscle conditioning workshops, and the owner of House of Cake has offered a decorating class. I hear you might be in the market to teach a class on scrapbooking, too.”
Angie’s eyes twinkled, and Trent let out a groan. “Is everyone talking about that?”
“Well, if you show up to a construction site with glitter in your hair, there are going to be questions.” She laughed. “And it’s such a great story.”
“I’m still finding glitter on me. I swear, I was in the shower this morning and I found some in my armpit.”
Jace snorted. “Maybe you should leave the creative work to the rest of us.”
“You want to take over the scrapbooking project, be my guest.” Trent raked a hand through his hair and sure enough, a little silver fleck stuck to his palm. “I am not built for this shit.”
“How is the book coming along?” Angie asked.
“Slowly. After the glitter incident, we’ve been taking a careful and steady approach to things.” Trent’s lips quirked. “But we’ve been working together most nights, and it’s been…fun.”
Things had been a little strange between him and Cora. The night they spent together had been so explosive and passionate, but she was still skittish around him. A few times, it had looked like she wanted to say something, but then she snapped her mouth shut and made an excuse to go and read or tap at her computer.
But he got it. Cora was slowly coming out of her shell, sharing more of her life in New York. She’d told him about her breakup with her fiancé. Trent’s family wasn’t perfect by any stretch, but there was no way in hell he could imagine anything like that happening here.
It made sense she wanted to ease into things…whatever the “thing” was between them.
“Are you worried about what Liv will say?” Jace asked.
“About the scrapbook? I’m assuming she’ll be pissed, but there’s not much I can do about it now,” Trent replied with a shrug. “No point worrying about what might be.”
“He never worries about anything,” Jace said to his wife with a shake of his head.
“Not true. I only worry when it absolutely counts, and most things don’t. Trust me, when you work with stuff that could literally crush a man to death, then you know when to worry and when to be cool.”
Angie laughed. “You guys are like chalk and cheese. Well, I hope Liv isn’t too upset. Your parents are back now, right? I was thinking we should have a family barbecue or something. I’d love to meet Cora.” She gave her trademark sunny smile and slipped an arm around her husband’s waist. They were obnoxiously adorable. “It’ll be nice not to be the only non-Aussie at the table. Although I might end up convincing her to stay. I couldn’t imagine living in a big city now after being here.”
“Who knows, maybe you’ll start a business bringing single American women out to meet their matches Down Under.” Jace chuckled to himself as though he’d made a really good joke.
“I’m sure the male residents would certainly appreciate it,” Trent said, his mind immediately sliding back to the night he’d spent with Cora. Dammit. He really needed to put a lid on that, otherwise he’d have to walk around with a folder in front of his crotch 24-7. “Help a few single brothers out.”
“You’re single and loving it,” Angie teased, not picking up on the fact that he wasn’t talking about himself. “Unless you’ve got some secret plans to settle down and have kids like the rest of us.”
The second the words were out of her mouth, Angie’s eyes had gone wide like she’d said too much. Trent narrowed his gaze at her. “Excuse me, what?”
“I thought we weren’t telling anyone yet,” Jace said with a frown.
“Are you…?” Trent’s eyes dropped down to Angie’s flat stomach.
“No, I’m not pregnant.” She wrung her hands. “But I do have a big mouth.”
“We’re trying,” Jace clarified.
“Trying just means you’re having sex.” Trent knocked his brother with his elbow, and Angie wrinkled her nose.
“This is why we weren’t going to say anything,” Jace reminded her with a sigh. He was a private guy by nature and rarely shared his plans about anything with the family before they were carved in stone. “Don’t tell anyone, especially not Mum and Dad. We don’t want them asking questions or prying.”
“My lips are sealed,” Trent promised. “But seriously? You’re trying for a baby?”
“We are. I lured him in with puppies first,” Angie said, shining a beaming smile up at her husband. “And he’s such a good fur dad.”
Trent watched his brother’s face for any signs of how he felt about the whole thing—he’d learned early on to do that, since his brother didn’t always voice how he felt. Jace looked equal parts excited and worried. He’d said in the past that he wasn’t sure about the whole “having kids” thing. Being a parent would result in a lot of upheaval, and being autistic meant change was a big challenge for Jace. For the longest time, marriage and family weren’t on his radar. But having Angie come into his life had changed his view of the world.
“There’s a lot for us to think about,” Jace said with a nod.
“For starters, I don’t know the medical history for either of my parents.” Angie twisted the hem of her uniform shirt in her hands. “It’s possible that I might be able to track down my birth parents’ medical records, but…I’m not sure I want to dredge up the past.”
Jace squeezed his wife’s hand protectively. “We don’t have to make that decision yet. There’s still time.”
Wow. Jace and Angie were planning a life together that felt light-years away from anything Trent was doing. He couldn’t even pull the trigger on signing an architect, let alone committing himself to not only another person but to creating a whole new family.
A whole new life.
“I’m really happy for you guys,” he said, smiling. “You’re perfect together. Just make sure as soon as there’s a baby, the little one knows who’s the cool uncle, okay?”
Angie laughed. “I have a feeling Nick and Adam will both fight you for that title.”
“They can try.” Trent waved a hand as if shooing a fly. “But I claimed the spot first. Anyway, I should be going. I don’t want to leave Cora waiting too long.”
His brother and sister-in-law saw him to the door, Jace’s arm still protectively around Angie’s shoulders. If he was like that now, imagine how he was going to be when Angie got pregnant. Not to mention when the kid actually arrived. Jace was going to be a full-grown papa bear, Trent could picture it already.
He paused to say goodbye to the puppies, crouching down and delighting in the little pink tongues and black paws and wet noses for a full minute before he headed outside. Once he was sitting in the driver’s seat of his ute, key in the ignition, Trent found himself still for a minute. The rest of his family were moving on with their lives, building their own worlds and creating futures…and he was essentially still couch surfing. Lusting over a wom
an he knew wouldn’t be around in a few weeks. Working hard at building things for other people but never for himself.
Nick had accused him once of putting other people’s needs ahead of his own as a way of procrastinating. Maybe it was true. But Nick didn’t know the truth of who Trent was. Why he was scared of trusting again. Nick had never been cheated on, had never been lied to and kept in the dark. So it was easy for him to judge.
He rolled down the window and caught sight of himself in the side mirror. “What are you waiting for?”
He didn’t know. It wasn’t like he needed someone to deem him worthy of a full life—Trent was as self-assured as they came. He was independent to a T. He liked being free and following his whims and relying only on himself. Because then he’d be assured that no one could hurt him.
But watching Jace and Angie through the window of the front room of their house, hugging and looking at each other with stars in their eyes, grand plans swirling in the air around them, Trent wondered for the first time if he really was missing out on what life had to offer.
For some reason, that made him think of the block of land he’d bought, sitting lonely and uninhabited at the outskirts of Patterson’s Bluff. It called to him. Beckoned him. Maybe it was time to start thinking about his future.
For some reason, it felt like the universe was pushing him in a certain direction…and he wasn’t sure if he liked it.
…
“Where are we going?” Cora asked as they zipped along the coastal highway out of Patterson’s Bluff. Trent had picked her up a few minutes ago from the house, where she’d been diligently working on the scrapbook.
They’d made steady progress on it, hopefully it would only take a few more nights of gluing and stamping and sprinkling to have it done.
“I wanted to show you something.” Trent glanced across at Cora, admiring the way her short denim skirt showed off miles of tanned skin.
It hadn’t taken long for the strong Aussie sun to give her a glow—her limbs were darker, the ends of her hair lighter, and all the freckles had come out on her pink cheeks. And now she had her window down, and the air blew her hair around her face, making her look wild and free and so beautiful, it caused his stomach to somersault.
“You look different,” he said, unable to stop the abrupt change of topic.
“Do I?” A pair of oversize black sunglasses masked her eyes, but the gentle curve of her mouth showed that she was relaxed and happy.
“Yeah. Something about you seems…I don’t know. Changed.”
“Maybe I relaxed.” She lifted one shoulder into a shrug. “Maybe the sun here finally thawed me out.”
Cora did not need any assistance thawing out, in his opinion. There was something guarded about her, sure. Given what he knew of her past, it wasn’t surprising, and he wasn’t about to push. He knew what it was like to need time to work through your shit.
“Good for you,” he replied with a nod.
“And don’t change the subject.” She twisted in her seat to face him, not that he could penetrate the thick black lenses of her glasses. They made her look like some Hollywood starlet hiding from the press. “Where on earth are you taking me?”
Trent watched the sign approaching and slowed the ute. It was easy to fishtail in these front-heavy vehicles, especially if you had nothing in the tray, and he’d seen one too many dickheads do it on the highway when they almost missed a turn. Flicking his indicator, he eased off the bigger road.
“Trent,” Cora prodded, sliding her glasses down her nose to flash her baby blues at him.
“We’re going to a little place called number three Bramble Court.”
He navigated onto a quiet residential street, the houses thinning out as he took another turn. Then another. Number one…two…three. He pulled the ute to a stop in front of the block. It was overgrown, weeds running wild and the grass alternating patches of straw-like tufts and dry, dusty earth. Set back from the street was a rundown structure with a broken front window and a graffiti tag sprayed in black across the front door.
Cora eyed him curiously. “It’s a good thing I know you’re not the murdering type. This place is…”
“In need of some work,” he supplied.
“I was going to say the perfect place to bury a body.” She wrinkled her nose.
“Nah. There’s way too many nosy people around these parts.” He winked. “You don’t know gossip until you meet some of the folks in Patterson’s Bluff. They make it a sport watching people out of their front windows. I swear, they’ve uncovered all kinds of secrets—affairs, divorces, secret business arrangements…”
Cora made an adorable snorting sound. “But no murders?”
“We’re a chill people here; the ocean is a very calming influence.” He pushed open the door and stepped out onto the road. “And I hear murder is a whole lotta work.”
Cora followed Trent up the driveway, which was little more than a section of dirt loosely paved with gravel. The building was a complete eyesore and vastly different from how it looked in the photos from the online listing, which had used clever angles to hide the worst of it. But he’d bought it anyway, seeing the potential others might not. He’d need to get a demolition crew in and have a thorough cleanup. After that, save for a few towering gums, which he was adamant about keeping, it would be a clean slate.
He held up his hand, covering the shambling building so he could see nothing but the land around it. The block looked long and a little narrow, but it flared out at the back. It was an odd shape, but he could make it work.
He walked onto the plot, his boots crunching over dead grass and twigs and gum nuts. There was a sliver of ocean at the back, the slight incline of the land giving enough height to see the thin blue line over the back fence. If he built a two-story house, he could put a balcony out back and watch the calm waves roll in from the bay side of his hometown.
“I assume you’re going to get rid of the murder hut?” Cora said, coming up beside him.
“It’s got a certain charm to it, don’t you think?” He couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice.
“If that charm is crack-den chic, then yeah.” She wrinkled her brow. “Should we even be here? Isn’t this private property?”
“You’re a stickler for the rules, aren’t you?” he said with a grin. “And you’re right. It is private property. My private property.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You brought me to the place where you want to build your home?”
When she said it like that, it sounded…intimate. Beyond the unspoken boundaries they’d laid around them. For some reason, bringing her here, showing her his plans—he felt proud for the first time in a long time. Maybe it was seeing Jace and Angie so loved-up and future-focused and happy.
It had been a long time since he’d wanted those things for himself.
“The view is really pretty,” she said, taking a look around. After her initial reservations, she seemed to warm to the place, especially when she spotted the magnificence beyond the backyard. “You could build a two-story house facing… What?”
“I was thinking the same thing,” he said with a grin.
The last couple of times Trent had come to check out his block of land, he’d felt this caged sensation. Like there’d been vines creeping up his legs and arms, wrapping around his wrists as though the place wanted to claim him. Hold him prisoner. It was a strange thing to think you wanted something, only to experience a very negative physical reaction when presented with the opportunity to achieve that goal.
But now there was nothing but the rustle of leaves and salt-drenched air and the sweetest hint of flowers. Not that there were any blooms in the immediate vicinity. Oh no, that was all Cora. And standing by his side, looking out at the ocean…well, it was a little too easy to take a mental pencil and sketch in the fantasy details—beautiful house, chilled bee
rs, blanket to get hot and heavy under while the stars twinkled overhead.
Let’s focus on the hot and heavy component of that, shall we?
“It’s beautiful.” Cora sighed, and the sound touched him somewhere deep. It was the sigh of a person releasing something into the world, the sigh of someone becoming one with a place.
“It’s a good size,” he said, trying to shake the uncharacteristic sentimental tone to his thoughts. Clearly, he’d let Nick and Jace and Angie get in his head. Building a house wasn’t an emotional choice—it was a logical one. Dollars and percentages and decades. Squares and rooms and walls. Solid, real things. “I was worried about the narrow frontage, but I think I can make it work.”
Cora made a disbelieving sound. “You love this place. Don’t give me that crap about ‘narrow frontage’ or whatever.”
The way she mimicked his accent—badly—made him smile. “You’ve got to work on your Aussie before you start tackling impersonations.”
“Oh yeah, like your American is any better.” She folded her arms over her chest.
“My American is, like, perfect,” he said in his best Kardashian-type accent, which earned him a dirty look and a swat from Cora.
“I do not speak like that! And nice try changing the subject.” Her mock annoyance faded into something softer, more observant. “You do that a lot.”
“Do I?” That was Trent, evasive any time someone saw too much.
The affable, unaffected persona had developed over the years—starting with the class-clown antics of his childhood to more subtle things as he got older that allowed him to hold people at a distance. Jokes and flirting and charisma were powerful shields, and he’d built a wall made of smiles around his heart. It was easier that way, to hide the hurt and sense of loss and the fear that he didn’t belong.
“Yeah, you do,” Cora said. “I think people take you at face value, but there’s a lot going on under the surface. You’re a complicated man.”
Her Aussie Holiday Page 16
