Nadia pressed a hand to her chest. ‘You wound me.’
‘You don’t have a heart, remember?’
‘Fine. If I had a heart, I’d be offended.’
‘You’re safe then,’ Chelsea concluded.
Safe.
Is that what Tom was doing? Keeping himself safe from being hurt again by keeping Chelsea at arm’s length? It might explain why he hadn’t been dating other women.
Chelsea honestly had no idea, but she knew one thing. She wasn’t going to be happy being kept at arm’s length forever.
Chapter Twenty-Three
‘Hey, Ben, how’s things?’
Tom had debated taking Chelsea’s brother’s call, but then told himself not to be stupid. They’d been friends for decades, and Tom didn’t need to mention anything about his involvement with Chelsea at this stage.
‘Not bad, not bad. It’s been a while, so I thought I’d give you a call. You coming back to Sydney anytime soon?’
‘To visit or to live?’ Tom asked. He tossed his bag into the passenger side of his car and collapsed into the driver’s seat. It had been another long but rewarding shift at work today.
Ben sounded as though he was driving. Chelsea’s brother was a successful sales rep for a big engineering company and spent a lot of time on the road. ‘Both would be good,’ Ben told him.
Tom smiled. ‘You know, I’m pretty settled up here now. It’s a good place to live. Big enough but not too small, and still within easy distance of Sydney.’
‘You’ve been up there a few years now. It’s gone quick.’
Tom wasn’t sure how to reply to that, so he chose not to as it hadn’t been a question. When he’d first moved to Newcastle, the days, weeks and months hadn’t gone quickly for him at all. Eventually, after about six months, things had become easier.
‘You could come up for a visit sometime,’ Tom suggested.
He heard Ben sigh. ‘I’d love to. But you know how it is. Work is relentless, and now with a one-year-old at home . . .’
‘I get it. It’s not easy. I’m sure I’ll be in Sydney again soon visiting my family and I can drop you a line.’
‘Chelsea said you were in Sydney last weekend and you had tickets to that band she loves. She was raving about it.’
Tom cleared his throat awkwardly, glad that Ben couldn’t see his face. He was pretty sure Chelsea would have left out the part about the night in the hotel.
‘Yeah, it was nothing,’ Tom replied casually. ‘A guy at work couldn’t make it at the last minute, and I know how much she loves them.’
‘Thanks for looking after her, man. It makes my parents happy that she has someone up there to look out for her.’
Tom swallowed at the mention of Chelsea and Ben’s parents. They considered Tom a part of the family, and he wondered what they’d think if they knew Chelsea was involved with him. Would they be angry? Upset? Happy? At any rate, it wasn’t a conversation he was ready to have right now on account of the “we’ll just see how things go” approach he and Chelsea were taking.
‘Hey, it’s no problem,’ Tom said. ‘She’s easy to live with, and she doesn’t really need me to look out for her. She’s a capable woman.’
Ben chuckled. ‘I’m not sure which sister of mine you’re living with, but that doesn’t sound like Chelsea.’
Tom frowned. ‘She’s not a kid anymore. She seems to be doing fine, from what I can see.’
‘Is she still dating an endless stream of guys?’
‘She’s dating,’ Tom replied vaguely. ‘I don’t keep track.’
Liar.
‘Yeah, well, I doubt she’ll be settling down anytime soon. It’s a shame, because she’s so great with kids. Lia adores her.’
Lia was Ben’s daughter, and Tom wasn’t surprised that Lia loved Chelsea.
‘Just because Chelsea works in childcare doesn’t mean she has to have kids of her own,’ Tom pointed out.
‘I guess not. I just figured that’s what would happen. It’s that sort of job. But I didn’t factor in her poor taste in men.’
Tom frowned a second time. ‘What do you mean by that sort of job?’ He couldn’t exactly argue about Chelsea’s poor taste in men.
‘Well, it’s not exactly a career, is it?’
‘Why not?’ Tom shot back.
Maybe Tom was tired. Or maybe he was still wound up from the other night when Chelsea had literally blown his fucking mind with what she could do with her tongue. It had left him feeling more desperate than ever to sleep with her, but still reluctant to at the same time. It was like that old No Doubt song where Gwen Stefani sings about always knowing she’d end up as the guy’s ex-girlfriend. Tom didn’t want to become another in the long line of guys Chelsea had been involved with and then moved on from—admittedly for good reasons, in most cases.
‘Hey, mate, I’m not trying to be an arsehole,’ Ben said, cutting through Tom’s thoughts. ‘She just sort of fell into childcare out of school and has done it ever since. It’s not like she’s ever had career aspirations for anything.’
‘She’s thinking of going to uni,’ Tom said and snapped his mouth shut. Shit. He pushed a frustrated hand through his hair. ‘But you’re not supposed to know that, OK? So I didn’t tell you.’
‘She is?’ Ben sounded surprise. ‘Can you at least tell me what course she’s looking at? That’s great.’
‘Early Childhood Education.’
‘Oh, right.’ His tone was disappointed.
‘It makes sense for her,’ Tom said, ignoring his previous intention not to say any more about it. ‘She’s got years of experience in the industry, and it will allow her to take higher paying jobs and possibly run her own centre down the track. She could even teach kindergarten at school if she wanted.’
‘Yeah, I guess it does, when you put it like that. Would she go to Newcastle University?’
‘That’s the place she’s considering right now, but like I said, you don’t know anything about it, alright? She’ll be pissed I told you.’
‘Why the big secret?’
‘Well, she hasn’t decided yet,’ Tom replied, then added, possibly against his better judgement, ‘so the last thing she needs is your family putting pressure on her.’
‘Pressure? When have we ever put pressure on Chelsea?’
Tom actually rolled his eyes. Ben was a good mate, but rather clueless when it came to reading women. Surprising, given he had three sisters, but he’d always been like that.
‘You’ve got to admit your parents like to compare the sisters to one another,’ Tom said.
‘Oh, that. Yeah, I guess you’re right. I never thought it bothered Chelsea. She’s always done her own thing.’
Yep, clueless. ‘Anyway, I’m sure she’ll tell you when there’s something to tell.’ He decided to move the conversation on. ‘Are you planning on getting tickets to the Boxing Day match this year? I can definitely make it down to Sydney for that.’
‘You bet.’
Watching the annual Boxing Day cricket match at the Sydney Cricket Ground was a tradition of theirs. The discussion moved on to sport and a few other things for the next few minutes.
‘Anyway, I better get moving. I’ve just pulled up at home,’ Ben said. ‘Before I go, have you, ah, heard about Gemma?’
Tom gripped the phone tighter. So that’s what this call had been about, among other things. He wasn’t angry with Ben. His mate was just looking out for him, and probably making sure he heard it before the news got back to Tom’s parents and they made a big deal about it. Which they most definitely would. That still didn’t mean he wanted to talk about it.
‘Yeah, I heard,’ Tom replied flatly.
‘Oh. Right. Sorry, I didn’t know.’ Ben sounded almost awkward, which was unusual for Chelsea’s big, burly brother. ‘Sorry to bring it up.’
Tom didn’t hide his sigh. ‘No, it’s fine. I appreciate why you did.’
There was a beat of silence on the other end of the phone. ‘It kind
of bites though, doesn’t it? After everything you went through.’
Yeah. It bit. Like a rabid dog out for blood, but Tom didn’t say that. ‘It wasn’t meant to be.’
‘No, I guess not. Anyway, I’m sorry, man. Hey, maybe you should take a leaf out of Chelsea’s book and date more? Nothing serious. It might actually be fun.’
Tom grimaced. ‘You haven’t been on Tinder lately, have you? I’ll take it under advisement though.’
Ben let out a bark of laughter. ‘On second thought, I’ve been out of the game too long to give you advice on the subject. I’m too much of a family man now. Anyway, good to chat.’
Tom returned Ben’s goodbye and finished the call. He tossed the phone on the passenger seat and stared out the window.
A family man.
He could have had that once, in a different life. A lot had changed since then. Except for one thing. He still didn’t know what he wanted.
You want Chelsea.
Tom scoffed at himself. So what was holding him back?
Ben’s words from their phone conversation returned to him.
I doubt she’ll be settling down anytime soon.
Is that what he wanted? To settle down? He wasn’t ready to be a family man like Ben yet, but he certainly didn’t want to become a casual fling of Chelsea’s, either. Except Ben had made it blatantly clear that Chelsea didn’t do serious relationships. Yet, Chelsea was the only girl on Tom’s mind. Hell, she was the only girl who had been on his mind in that way since Gemma.
But was Chelsea the right or wrong girl?
Tom wished he knew.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Two days later, Chelsea sat at the dining table pondering whether to contact Tom. They hadn’t spent any more time with each other after Chelsea had cooked him dinner earlier in the week. Of course, they’d seen each other because they shared an apartment. They’d passed in the hall on the way to and from work, or in the kitchen when grabbing a quick breakfast, but it had almost felt like old times when they were simply housemates.
Now Chelsea was beginning to wonder if Tom was avoiding her. Again. The night before, he was working a late shift, so she didn’t push. Today she’d held out until her afternoon break to send him a message.
Wanna hang out tonight?
No pressure. Just a casual invitation to spend some time together. It had been almost three hours and he hadn’t replied. Chelsea kept telling herself it was because he was at work. Being a paramedic wasn’t like working in an office. It wasn’t unusual for an hour or two to go by before he replied to messages.
Yet, here she was waiting for him to reply.
‘Ugh, you’re being pathetic!’ Chelsea chided herself and stood up to get a drink from the kitchen.
She’d just poured herself a glass of water when her phone buzzed. Her heart may or may not have thudded pathetically in response. She returned to the table to pick up the phone.
‘Ugh,’ she said again.
It was Darren.
Hey, babe. It’s next week. I’m free for dinner tonight. I can pick you up. Just tell me a time.
‘In your new car,’ Chelsea muttered. ‘Not likely.’
And no mention of him repaying her either. Just an arrogant message telling her that he was free and not bothering to ask if she was.
‘What did I even see in you?’
OK, so there were his abs, but Chelsea wasn’t so shallow that she’d date someone solely because of the way they looked. She’d been stupid enough to think that, because he owned his own business, he was entrepreneurial and driven. Sadly, she’d learned too late after lending him the money that the only things he was driven to do were to work on his abs, date women, and to spend money, not to make it.
She was just about to reply with a curt “not happening, and where’s my money?” message when her phone buzzed again. It was Tom. She gave up replying to Darren and opened Tom’s instead.
Sounds awesome but I’m working late. I swapped my early for a late to help someone out. Raincheck?
Chelsea sighed. She’d almost suggest that he was playing hard to get, but this was Tom, and it wasn’t fair of her to think that. She knew his job didn’t have regular hours like hers.
She flicked back to Darren’s message. ‘You know what, Darren? You’re on. Maybe you’ll pay my money back quicker if I insist in person.’
Chelsea felt uncomfortable the minute they arrived at the restaurant. It was a fancy new place in town that had opened recently, run by a renowned chef who had another popular restaurant in the nearby Hunter Valley. Dimly lit and with a moody soundtrack playing in the background, Chelsea noted that it was mostly filled with other couples.
Crap.
While Chelsea’s intention of meeting with Darren tonight was solely to discuss him returning her money, he hadn’t got the memo yet. In his mind, they were still dating. As awkward as it was, Chelsea knew that if she’d implied she no longer wanted to see him romantically from now on, she doubted he’d be as keen to see her face-to-face.
She’d just have to put up with the romantic vibes for an hour or two, and anyway, he owed her a lot of money. In Chelsea’s mind, she’d earned a nice dinner out.
Darren’s hand brushed the small of her back as they were led inside the restaurant to the table. Chelsea was quick to step out of his reach when the waiter gestured to their seats.
She watched him warily as he sat down. Darren’s olive skin appeared darker under the low lighting, and his brown eyes were so dark Chelsea could barely make out the pupils. If she didn’t know him better, she’d say it made him appear mysterious. He could have passed for a bouncer or bodyguard with his shaved head, navy jeans and suit jacket he was wearing. She suspected he had a hard time finding a jacket to fit his oversized broad shoulders thanks to all the hours he spent working out.
Oblivious to her assessment of him, he undid the button of his jacket and settled comfortably into his chair. ‘So, you’ll be pleased to know that your investment has been put to good use at my fitness studio.’
Chelsea stiffened at the term “investment”, and she jumped to correct him. ‘That’s great to hear. Although, it wasn’t really an investment. It was more of a loan.’
‘Sure, babe. Whatever you want to call it. Anyway, I’ve got this sweet new piece of gear that the members are loving. It’s so popular I’m going to look at ordering another one.’
With whose money?
Chelsea pretended to study the menu. ‘Super. If that’s the case, it sounds like you can afford to pay me back then.’
Darren’s dark eyebrows rose. ‘Already? It’s only been a few weeks.’
‘A month, actually,’ she corrected.
‘Oh. Right. Anyway, like I said, I’ll pay you back. I’m just not quite ready yet.’
‘So how will you afford the additional equipment?’
Darren shrugged. ‘Another loan. I’m just sorting it out at the moment.’
‘Then why not consolidate all your loans and pay me back?’
Darren set his menu down and frowned. ‘What’s the big deal about the money? I told you I’m good for it.’
Chelsea smiled, not wanting to get him offside completely. She’d learned after working with kids that it was sometimes better to praise instead of criticise.
‘I know your business is going from strength to strength, and that’s fantastic. I just really need the money back soon, that’s all.’
‘What for?’
Chelsea reached for the jug of water and poured a glass to give herself time to answer without getting angry—which she was. It was her money, after all. Not his. He had no right to ask what she planned to do with it. That was her business.
‘I’m enrolling to do some further study and that money will pay for my first semester’s tuition,’ she said, hoping to appeal to his generous side.
His eyebrows rose again. ‘Study, huh? Sounds intense. Well, just tell me when you need it and I’ll make sure you have it.’
No “wow, that’s amazing” or “what will you be studying?” but at least he’d agreed to return the money.
‘I need the money next week,’ she lied. She didn’t, but screw waiting. The money was hers and she wanted it back sooner rather than later.
Darren poured himself a glass of water and didn’t comment on the fact that Chelsea hadn’t offered to pour his. ‘Yeah, so that might be a bit soon,’ he said after taking a sip.
‘I don’t care, Darren. I want my money back.’
There. She’d said it. There was no misunderstanding the situation now.
He frowned. ‘I thought we had a good thing going.’
‘What, we hook up occasionally and I lend you money when you need it?’
‘That’s not what I meant.’
‘Excuse me? Are you ready to order?’
Chelsea looked up at the waiter in annoyance. She’d been so intent on Darren that she hadn’t seen him approach. ‘No, we’re not ready yet,’ Chelsea said, and Darren looked disappointed. The waiter nodded and retreated.
Chelsea folded her arms and returned her gaze to him. ‘So what did you mean, exactly?’
Darren shrugged. ‘I thought we were having fun together.’ The movement tested the strength of the jacket’s stitching, but Chelsea wasn’t intimidated by his size.
‘Yeah, see, it stopped being so much fun for me when I realised I’m broke and—’
Chelsea didn’t get to finish her sentence because there was a loud crash followed by a woman’s shriek.
Chelsea turned towards the noise at the rear of the restaurant. ‘Oh my God.’
An older gentleman had collapsed to the floor, taking plates and cutlery with him, and was clutching his chest.
‘Holy shit,’ Darren muttered.
The woman was standing beside him, gesturing wildly. ‘Somebody, do something! Please!’
A couple of the waiters ran over. ‘Should we call an ambulance?’ one asked.
The woman waved at them angrily. ‘Yes, of course. But please, I don’t know CPR. Can you help me?’
Mr. Nice Guy (Pierce Brothers Book 1) Page 15
