Only One Bed: A Steamy Romance Anthology Vol 1 (Romancing The Trope)

by Lucy Eden

  “Hey, do you mind if I put the radio on?” Anvita asked.

  “Sure. That’s cool. It’s probably on some kid’s thing.”

  “How old are your kids?” Anvita tone turned formal. Polite, not curious.

  “Tess is seven and Joe is five. They are staying with my mother in law while I’m here.”

  Anvita nodded. “Oh, That’s lovely. It’s so nice that they’ve been able to keep their relationship with that side of the family.”

  Shazza tried not to sigh. “Shane might be dead, but his family are still our family. His mother, Maria, is a wonderful woman.”

  “I’m sorry I spoke so awkwardly.” Anvita’s polite cool tone reminded Shazza of her own lack of elegance. She may as well keep her attraction buried because they were so different.

  Shazza shook her head. “Nah, It’s cool. Being widowed at twenty-three is a fucked-up thing, you know. People say the daftest things. I’m used to it.”

  “I guess so. I’m still sorry though.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate that.” Shazza wished there were less social missteps involved with talking about death. People were often hurtful in the guise of trying to be helpful, or polite. And fuck, it wasn’t like she was perfect at that either. She’d bet that Anvita dealt with racist shit in the same way, but she wasn’t going to ask. It wasn’t her place. “Shane and I used to joke that at least one of us got a decent mother in law.”

  Anvita frowned. Shazza could always count the seconds until the meaning dawned on someone.

  “I take it your own mother isn’t decent.”

  “She does her best with her lot in life, but yeah, she named me Shazza.” She really didn’t want to go into the mess that was her birth family. Her mum wasn’t really equipped to be a mother, and Shazza had been brought up by her grandma and aunt. It had sucked to see her friend’s families; they all managed to be decent people. They were all poor too, but they loved each other and supported each other which made being poor easier to take.

  It’d taken her ages to realise it was good to see their lives work out well. They’d given her motivation to be the type of mother she saw in her friend’s parents, and she worked her ass off to give her kids a better childhood than the one she’d had. She wanted them to feel loved, not fobbed off onto some relative every time it was inconvenient to have a kid around the place. Leaving them with Maria for this weekend twisted her guts with guilt, even though it would hopefully improve their life by growing the business. She’d never been away from them overnight before.

  “I thought that was a nickname for Sharon.”

  “Yeah, nah. Shazza is on my birth certificate.”

  Anvita chuckled. “I’m sorry. Again. It’s not that funny.”

  It kind of was in a fucked-up way. “It’s okay. You won’t be the first one.”

  “I ought to know better than to assume anything of someone.”

  “If you are assuming my mother is bogan as fuck, you’d be right. And It’s not the way she dresses, or the fact that she’s poor, because I’m bogan on that scale. It’s the selfish way she chases a cheap thrill, how she expects the next man to be the one who will fix all her problems.” Shazza shrugged. She’d said more than enough, and she’d spent too much of her life trying to shrug off the cliché that was her mum. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter.”

  They were obviously worlds apart; Anvita was so classy and she was….

  She squared her shoulders. Fuck it, she wasn’t her childhood. She was a working mother of two who was doing everything she could—even a bloody tv show—to make their life better.

  “If it matters to you, then it matters to me.”

  Shazza nodded but kept her vision on the road. People said shit like that all the time, but they didn’t mean it.

  Anvita pressed her hands against her stomach as Shazza took items from the back seat and put them in the back of the ute. She was so practical, and it left Anvita with a familiar sense of hopelessness.

  “Do you need any help?”

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  “The sunset is beautiful from up here.” Anvita filled the silence with inanities. Shazza had driven out of town with such certainty, and then They’d wound their way along a narrow road through the D’entrecasteaux National Park until Shazza had pulled off onto a dry dirt track and parked in a clearing overlooking the ocean. The sunset was worth the half-hour drive. “I can’t believe this place. So close to town, and yet, it feels like the middle of nowhere.”

  Shazza paused for a moment and glanced up. The brilliant orange and pinks streaking over the sky added a red sheen to the duskiness of her hair. “Come and sit here.”

  Anvita climbed onto the back of the ute and sat down in the spot Shazza indicated. “Here?”

  “Yeah. You are right. It is lovely.” Shazza sat down beside her and leaned back with her hands supporting her. The position lifted her tits higher, and Anvita quelled the shiver that rushed down her spine. Shazza had kids, she was a widow, she would never…

  “This is great. Ouch. Fuck.” Anvita slapped her forearm but missed the mosquito that bit her.

  Shazza giggled. “I’ve got some bug spray somewhere.” She rolled sideways and reached into a bag, then pulled out the spray. “Here. Shut your eyes.” Spray hit her skin with the taste of harsh chemicals on her tongue.

  “Bleurgh.”

  “I know, it tastes like shit, but it works.” Shazza sprayed herself. “Damned bugs.”

  “Ruining all this good nature with their presence!” Anvita pushed away Shazza’s care with a joke. After their discussion over Shazza’s name, Anvita needed to apologise again. She’d obviously hurt Shazza with her assumptions, but they didn’t have the kind of relationship where she could ask about it. Shazza had already opened up about her husband’s death and her obviously unloving mother, and Anvita admired that courage to keep throwing herself at life.

  “Thank you for doing this. It’s a lot more comfortable than I was imagining.” As far as apologies went, it only hinted at what Anvita wanted to say. The awareness she sought felt vague, like a butterfly, flitting away, impossible to catch.

  Shazza rolled her head on her shoulders. “I grabbed a couple of yoga mats when I was at the shops. I figured you wouldn’t want to try and sleep on the ute deck.”

  “Do you think I’m a princess or something?”

  The corner of Shazza’s mouth curled up in a half-smile. “Nah, just a city girl.”

  “Isn’t that the same thing? Too precious for a little discomfort.”

  Shazza shrugged one shoulder. “I wouldn’t wish discomfort on anyone.”

  “I appreciate that. The idea of sleeping outdoors doesn’t align with my need for creature comforts. As you say, a city girl.” Anvita’s stomach twisted. She could just push this away and pretend there wasn’t a growing sexual awareness between them. Think about family, work, anything that wasn’t the way Shazza’s fantastic tits strained against her shirt as she leaned back against the ute. “My grandfather came here looking for a better life than back in India when my dad was ten, and we’ve always been taught to work hard to create comfort and health for ourselves and our family.” Anvita didn’t usually open up so readily. What was it about Shazza that made her want to chat about herself?

  “Is that why you’ve never been camping?”

  “No. That’s not it. My parents wanted us to assimilate and do all the Aussie things, but I was so busy at school, and they were working, so we never had the time. If camping is living with bugs, then I don’t think I’ve missed out on too much.”

  “Nah, yeah. Couple of beers on the back of a ute, That’s all you need, mate.”

  “Are you making fun of me?”

  Shazza laughed. “And of me. Look, heaps of what being Aussie is about isn’t great. Yeah, camping is fun, and drinking beers with mates is good, but this country was built on the White Australia policy and our history isn’t the greatest.” Shazza frowned. “And don’t look at me like that. I might be
poor and white, but I can read.”

  “Fair enough. Every country has their bad history.”

  “Yeah, but what are we doing about it? Fucking nothing.”

  Anvita nodded, also unsure about Australia’s weighty history. “But you are thinking about it.”

  “Sure. Fat lot of good that does anyone.”

  Anvita reached out and touched Shazza’s hand. “Listening to people who are hurt matters more than you think it does. It might not change things on a big scale immediately, but It’s not nothing.”

  Shazza stared down at the way Anvita’s hand covered hers. Their hands were so different. Anvita’s brown smooth skin was beautifully moisturised, her nails clean and painted with a rich dark red, while her own stubby hands were rough from work, tanned white skin wrinkled with sun damage from working outside, and her fingernails were clipped short. Functional. She wanted to snatch her hand away because they were so different. It would never work. But she couldn’t because a gentle soothing warmth travelled up her arm and into her chest and she wanted to hold onto it tight.

  “Anvita?” Her voice cracked a little.

  “Yes.”

  “Want a beer?” Shazza pulled her hand away and tugged at her ear lobe. “Or something to eat. I got lamb cutlets for the BBQ, and salad, and stuff.”

  “Thanks. That all sounds amazing. Do you want me to help?”

  Shazza stood up and jumped off the back of the ute. “Nah, It’s cool. Just relax and watch.”

  “I can’t let you do all the work.”

  “Yeah, you can. You have to work tomorrow. Let me look after you.” Shazza liked cooking for people. It was the best part of being a mum, feeding her kids and all their friends; no one ever went hungry on her watch. She’d always been plump, and pregnancy hadn’t helped, but cooking and feeding people was one of her great pleasures. In another life—one where her family had encouraged her rather than push her away from a career in food—she might’ve been a chef.

  Anvita rolled over onto her stomach, propped her chin on her elbows, bracketing her pretty face with her slender hands and stared over at Shazza. “If you think That’s best.”

  “Like you said, I’m the practical one.”

  “Hey. I can be practical too. Just not with this outdoorsy stuff!” Anvita’s relaxed laugh sent a shiver through her torso and Shazza wanted to make her laugh over and over again. She grabbed a couple of beers from the esky and cracked one for Anvita.

  “I hope you like it. It’s a local brew.” Shazza had spent more than she usually would on this meal, trying to impress Anvita. Hopefully, it wasn’t a bad idea. Their fingers touched as she handed over the cold can. A tingle in the tips of her fingers made her want to rub them against her palm to get rid of the sensation. She shouldn’t want Anvita this much, except shouldn’t had already dictated too many of her twenty-five years and she was tired of listening to it.

  “Thank you. Is this how you spend your evenings?”

  Shazza snorted. “Fuck no. After I’ve fed the kids, managed to get them washed, we sit down and read a book together, then I wrestle them into bed.”

  “Wrestle them?”

  “Mum, can we please stay up a few more minutes? Mum, I need a drink of water? Mum, why do I have to sleep anyway? It’s boring. That kind of thing. But they’re pretty good. Once they are in bed, then I try and answer client emails before I fall asleep too.”

  “Right. Being a solo mum is a tough gig.”

  “Yeah. I’m lucky because Marie, Shane’s mum, comes over on weekends and watches them while I work.” Shane’s dad had pissed off years ago, and Marie understood how hard it was to be a solo mum.

  “You work every day?”

  Shazza sipped her beer. “It’s my own business. If I don’t work, the staff don’t get paid, and we don’t eat.” She grabbed the little BBQ off the floor of the back seat of her double cab work ute and carried it to a patch of dirt. A table would be better, but this would do. It was flat and the frypan would cook evenly above the single gas burner.

  “Of course. It’s just that I thought I worked ridiculous hours, but it sounds like you never stop.”

  “Pretty much.” She clicked in the gas canister, checked all the settings, then pulled a box of matches out of the back pocket of her jeans. She turned on the gas, lit a match, and held up her other hand to shelter the small flame from the light breeze. The gas caught with a gentle whoosh. Excellent.

  “And here you are. Making dinner and a comfortable bed for both of us.”

  Shazza shrugged. “It’s fine. This is like, restful work, because It’s different to my usual work. I’m not really good at sitting still.” She glanced up at Anvita whose deep frown marred her gorgeous face. “Look, if you want to do something, how about you tell me something about you?”

  The frown disappeared. “Like a story to entertain you?”

  “Sure. Whatever.” She strode back to the ute to grab the rest of the supplies, then placed the frypan on the gas burner and added a dash of olive oil.

  Anvita’s mind blanked. What story could she tell that would be entertaining? She always knew what to say, especially at work where her job was all about ensuring stories got told in a way that entertained audiences. They weren’t her stories though. Watching Shazza made her brain fuzzy with desire.

  “I got divorced last year, about eight months ago. Though That’s not exactly an entertaining story.” Anvita didn’t really want to talk about the specifics of it, but she needed Shazza to know she was single. If ever there was a chance of the desire fizzing between them turning into something real, tonight was their best chance. Alone in the bush with a summer sky of stars above.

  “Oh, That’s a bit shit.”

  “Yeah. There were a whole bunch of factors. Anyway, I’ve been single since then, and…” She let her voice trail off. Shazza nodded but didn’t ask anything further. Without a prompt to continue, Anvita realised she could easily talk about work instead. Boring.

  “Are you alright?”

  “Better than being married to him.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, we married quite young. I was a bit stupid. Naïve.”

  “Can’t imagine that. You seem so contained and worldly.” Shazza glanced up from her cooking.

  Anvita shook her head. “My parents didn’t approve. Brian was white, not Indian, but it wasn’t all about culture. I think they saw the bigger problems.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. He was basically Scotty from Marketing.”

  Shazza roared with laughter, her head tipped back. “Holy hell. I cannot imagine you with someone like our ineffective overly fake Christian Prime Minister.”

  “Like I said, young and naïve. He thought it would be good for his career to marry someone “diverse”.” She used air quotes for the word. “I was so thrilled to have his attention at first, hungry for it, but he knew that and used it for his own gain. He’d bring me to work functions, trotted out for the big bosses to demonstrate how globally focused he was. And it worked for him. He raced up the corporate ladder; for a long time, it felt like we had everything.” Anvita paused. “My father told me I’d get discarded for a younger, prettier… whiter version once Brian had the job he wanted.”

  “Is that what happened?” Shazza added cutlets to the frying pan and they sizzled, filling the air with a satisfying scent which made Anvita’s mouth water. Her parents were non-veg, and They’d always tried to fit in with Australian customs and food culture, so she’d grown up eating a wide variety of foods from everywhere. Pretty typical Aussie. Lots of Indian cuisine too, comfort foods cooked by her grandparents who’d grown up in northern India.

  “No.” It had been worse. She hauled in a deep breath. “I met one of his colleagues at a party. Oh my gosh, Nadia was so beautiful, and we had an instant chemical attraction. Like, the total air crackling thing that I thought was just something they wrote in books. It was both amazing and totally awkward at the same time. I realised I’d
always been attracted to women as well, and anyway…” Anvita closed her eyes and eased out a long breath. When she flicked her eyes open again, Shazza’s face was pink.

  “Same, but I married Shane and that was that.” Shazza looked back at her cooking and fussed around with the food.

  Anvita’s lips dried out and she licked them. How could one look make heat pool in her belly like that? “Nadia and I flirted off and on at various functions. I was married, so nothing could come of it, but damn, Nadia was irresistible. It was so hard to stay away from her, like I was just drawn to her, and anyway, it didn’t help because I was already regretting my marriage. Brian wanted to start a family; He’d read somewhere that men with children were more likely to become a CEO than men without. But my career was taking off, and I didn’t want to sacrifice that yet. It was really the perfect storm; with things so bad at home, it would’ve been so easy to cheat on Brian.” Nadia had the same plump curves as Shazza, her perfect type.

  “Did you?”

  “Almost. We were at a function, and we brushed past each other in a hallway. I was leaving the toilets and she was going there. She stumbled, and I grabbed her forearm to stop her falling. Brian saw, and assumed we were kissing.”

  “Shit. Did he get angry?” Shazza’s eyes were wide open.

  Anvita shook her head. “No. Worse.”

  “What is worse?” Shazza’s puzzled expression brought back all the irritating feelings of that day and Anvita shuddered. She shook her head once to try and get rid of the dreaded prickly sensation.

  “Brian proposed a threesome.”

  Shazza blinked once. “What the fuck? Fucking men.”

  “And—”

  “There’s an and?”

  Anvita held up her hands and did air quotes again. “It’s not cheating because we all want it.”

  “He said that. What a—”

  Anvita sighed. “Yeah, that’s what Nadia said. She stood tall, spine rigid, and said she’d never be someone’s unicorn.” Anvita remembered rushing away to the toilet and searching it up. The concept of a unicorn hunter still brought bile to the back of her throat. Straight men married to bisexual women wanting to find another woman to fuck without technically cheating.