The Wrong Callahan

by Karly Lane

  ‘Apparently you have a fence that needs fixing?’

  ‘A fence?’ He was eyeing her strangely, and for good reason—she was acting like an idiot.

  ‘Dad said to come over and fix the fence.’

  ‘Oh! That fence,’ she said, giving her head a quick shake. What was wrong with her? ‘Yeah, there’s a fence down, but I didn’t … I mean, I wasn’t expecting anyone to come and fix it. You’ve probably got a million other things you’d rather be doing.’

  ‘All good. I’m happy to be away from the three-ring circus that’s going on at home.’

  ‘Pretty crazy?’ she asked, already suspecting that chaos would be unfolding with so many strong women under the one roof.

  ‘Griff’s runnin’ around trying to sort out the last-minute details for harvesting and Dad’s driving him crazy, and then there’s Hadley and Mum deciding that they practically want to renovate the shearing shed for the reception, so at this point I’ll take any excuse to get out of the place for a while.’

  Cash gave a chuckle of commiseration. ‘Well, in that case, I guess it’s only neighbourly to give you an excuse to stay away.’

  ‘If you point the way, I’ll go take a look.’

  ‘I’ll show you,’ she said, checking her watch briefly. She still had half an hour before her next appointment arrived. ‘It’s just behind the house yard. You can drive through if you like.’

  ‘I’ll take a look and then come back for the gear. See what I’ll need.’

  She led the way around the house, through the Balinese garden and out the back through the tall bamboo screens.

  Linc gave a low whistle. ‘This is really something, isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s pretty amazing. I keep telling Savannah that George would make a killing in the city.’

  ‘You’re not wrong. This is crazy.’

  Cash gave him a smile over her shoulder, happy that he found the gardens as incredible as she did. She opened the gate and stepped through into a fenced paddock. ‘That’s where the fence is down.’ She pointed to a length of sagging wire nearby.

  ‘Ah, that’s a piece of cake to fix. Won’t take long at all.’ ‘I noticed it the other day. I think the cows decided they like this side of the fence better.’

  ‘Grass is always greener?’ he asked cocking an eyebrow.

  ‘Looks like it.’ She didn’t often venture further than the backyard, so she wasn’t even sure how long the fence had been down. There was no sign of any rogue cattle now though so, clearly, they’d eaten and gone. ‘Well, I guess I’ll leave you to it then, if you’re sure?’ She felt kind of bad that he was being sent over to do such a mundane, easy job.

  ‘Positive. I’ll get what I need from the ute and have it done in no time.’

  The phone was ringing when she returned to the salon and Cash just managed to grab it before it switched to voicemail.

  ‘The Sacred Spirit Day Spa, Cash speaking. How can I help you?’

  ‘Umm, what happened to my greeting?’ Savannah enquired.

  ‘I never agreed to that bit,’ Cash said flatly. Savannah had left a written card by the phone with the greeting she used: Welcome to the Sacred Spirit Day Spa, where we transform your mind, body and soul. Cash was not into the enlightening angels and tarot reading stuff that Savannah was into. ‘But don’t worry,’ she consoled before Savannah could protest, ‘everything else is done exactly the way you requested it.’

  ‘You know, if you read those books I left out for you, you’d open yourself up to so many wonderful new experiences.’

  ‘I think I’ve opened myself to more than enough experiences in one lifetime, I’m pretty sure I don’t need any more. How’re things over there?’ she asked quickly, before her friend could continue her line of lecturing.

  ‘It’s snowing. Can you believe it? Real snow. It’s beautiful.’

  ‘It’s hard to imagine, actually. It’s been sweltering out here.’

  ‘So what’s the latest with Griff? Have you been out yet?’

  ‘There is no latest,’ she said dully.

  ‘What? Already? Aww, come on, Cash, you promised you were going to give him a chance,’ Savannah protested.

  ‘I did! Against my better judgement, I might add.’

  ‘Then what happened?’

  ‘He kissed me and there was nothing there. Like—nothing.’

  ‘Are you sure? Maybe you’re being a little hasty. He might have been having an off night or something. You can’t make a judgement call on one kiss.’

  ‘Yes, I can, Sav. It’s been leading up to this, I was trying to be positive, but the reality is, we’re not compatible.’

  Her friend went silent for a few moments before obviously summoning some kind of divine spiritual inspiration. ‘Oh well, maybe he was sent to show you something.’

  ‘Like what? I’m not cut out for a nice guy?’

  ‘Of course you are, you just haven’t met him yet. Sometimes people are sent into your life to teach you things. Maybe Griff was there to show you the way towards something. To guide you to your path. Let me get my cards and I’ll do a reading.’

  Cash rolled her eyes as she walked outside, ‘No, Sav, I don’t need your cards to tell me what I should be doing.’ Cash scoffed silently, Guide me to my … The thought drifted off as she caught sight of the shirtless man tightening what looked like a winch on the fence line. His sweat-glistened back muscles flexed and rippled with each wrench of the lever. She saw him straighten and take off his hat, wiping his forearm across his brow, before bending over to retrieve a bottle from the ground. There was so much to admire about the way denim fitted his …

  ‘Cash?’

  Savannah’s voice snapped her back to reality. ‘Sorry? What?’

  ‘Are you all right?’

  Cash swallowed and dragged her gaze from Linc’s distracting form. ‘Yep, all good. I think my next client has arrived. I have to go. I’ll call you later. Bye.’ She disconnected the call quickly before her far too perceptive friend could question her further.

  However, Savannah’s words stayed with her the rest of the day. Had Griff been some kind of stepping stone? For a philosophy that spruiked love and kindness, it seemed a little harsh to be using people as life lessons. And if Griff had been leading her towards a path, then what the hell was the path leading to? Cash had never bought into Savannah’s new age wisdom before, so she probably shouldn’t start now. There was nothing in it anyway …

  Thirteen

  Linc splashed himself to wash off the morning’s sweat and bit back a curse as the water stung the deep scratch across his stomach. The barbed wire had got him before he’d even started working on the stupid fence. He couldn’t believe he’d ripped his favourite shirt. He bent down and scooped it from the ground and held it up to inspect the damage. With a sad shake of his head he used it to mop the water from his face and did his best to clean up the cut. The job hadn’t been as simple as he’d first thought; he’d discovered the fence had snapped in two other places further along. His mood took a further plunge once he’d thrown all his gear in the back of the ute and felt the sting of sunburn starting on his back and shoulders. He climbed into the vehicle and reached for the ignition, but paused as he spotted Cash coming out onto the front verandah with her lunch.

  His mood lifted slightly as she walked down the steps towards him.

  ‘How’d it go?’

  ‘All finished,’ he said, leaning his arm out the open window. ‘They really went to town on that fence. But it’s sorted now.’

  ‘You got sunburnt out there,’ she said, frowning at his shoulders. ‘You have heard of the whole sun safe campaign they’ve been running for the last twenty or thirty years, haven’t you?’ she asked with a hint of sarcasm as her eyes flickered across his bare chest, before they widened slightly. ‘What happened? You’re bleeding.’

  He glanced down at the cut and gave a small wince. ‘It’s not as bad as it looks. Barbed wire scratch.’

  ‘Have you had a t
etanus shot lately?’ she asked, her green eyes concerned.

  ‘Yeah, it’s all good.’

  ‘It doesn’t look good. Come inside and let me clean it up. It’s the least I can do since you were doing me a favour.’

  ‘It’s not that bad,’ he protested, but then heard a little voice inside his head say, Dude, shut up and let her fix you!

  ‘Out,’ she commanded sternly, and he couldn’t help the twitch of his lips.

  ‘You know, you’re sounding just as bossy as my mum and sisters.’

  ‘I must have been hanging around the Callahans too long then.’

  He followed her up the stairs and into the house. He wasn’t any kind of interiors’ expert, but he’d seen enough home shows on the TV to know when someone had decorated. This, he thought rather smugly, was what they call ‘shabby chic’. The lounge and the two armchairs were in different old-fashioned fabrics, and everywhere he looked were a variety of baskets, coloured boxes and weird ornaments. As they walked through into the small kitchen, he noticed mismatched chairs around a scrubbed, old pine dining-room table. Pots hung from a bracket over the kitchen bench, and various kitchen utensils hung from hooks attached to a wall frame beside the kitchen sink.

  ‘They mustn’t have much cupboard space,’ he commented, looking around the room.

  He caught her lopsided grin as she directed him to a chair while she disappeared into a small pantry at the end of the kitchen. ‘Savannah likes everything she uses to be on display and within easy reach. She doesn’t believe in hiding things away. Apparently it’s the trend in interior decorating … or something,’ she shrugged, carrying a box marked First aid and pulled out a chair across from him. ‘That looks really sore.’

  ‘Nah, I can barely feel it,’ he said, leaning back as she inspected the cut, and realising that he was looking forward, with just a little bit too much anticipation, to her touching him.

  She gave an unimpressed snort at his reply, which dampened his eagerness a little. ‘Sorry, I forgot how tough and manly you’re supposed to be.’

  ‘I am tough and manly,’ he protested.

  ‘Of course you are,’ she said in a voice that sounded like she was mollifying a child. She unscrewed a bottle of antiseptic and tipped it onto a cotton ball, before placing it against the open cut across his midsection. His sharp intake of breath made her bite back a smile.

  ‘And there I was thinking how caring you were.’

  ‘I’m caring,’ she said, taking another cotton ball and repeating the action. ‘This is me being caring,’ she told him with an innocent smile. ‘But seriously, it looks sore.’

  ‘Okay, it might be a little sore,’ he conceded, although now that she’d placed her other hand against his skin to steady the area near the wound, he wasn’t feeling anything much at all—nothing above his waist anyway.

  He admired the way a few small tendrils of hair hung down her neck, escaping from the messy bun she wore for work. A faint hint of coconut seemed to linger around her and he breathed in deeply, filling his head with her scent. God, she smelled good. As though somehow sensing he was watching her, she lifted her gaze and he saw something flare to life there before she straightened and pushed her chair back a little.

  ‘There you go.’ She sent him a bright smile that wavered slightly as he lifted his hand to close over hers, where it rested against his stomach.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said quietly, the heat of her hand branding his skin.

  He leaned forward slightly in his chair, bringing their lips closer. He heard her breath catch as she gave a mumbled, ‘You’re welcome’ and his eyes locked onto the soft fullness of her lips. Man, he wanted to taste her so bad. He saw the exact moment she surrendered and he knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her. The air between them almost sizzled with the intensity of the heat they were generating, but then something changed and in an instant the desire in her eyes melted as she lowered her lashes and eased back away from him, shaking her head firmly.

  ‘No, I can’t. Not with you.’

  ‘Not with me?’ He wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. What the hell was wrong with him?

  ‘You’re all wrong,’ she said, getting to her feet and busying herself by gathering together all the supplies she’d used and shoving them back into the first-aid kit haphazardly while Linc looked on in surprise.

  ‘How am I all wrong?’ On some level he knew this was more about her than him. He wasn’t even sure she’d meant to say any of it out loud, since she was continuing to mutter under her breath as she scooped up the used cotton balls and deposited them into the bin underneath the sink.

  He watched as she fussed around the kitchen, picking up a cloth to wipe the bench, picking up and putting things down again. ‘Cash,’ he said, approaching her and waiting until she stopped and looked up at him. ‘Why am I all wrong?’

  ‘Because you’re too much like the other men I’ve dated. You’re not the type of man I need.’

  ‘You’ve known me all of five minutes,’ he said, unable to distance himself from the insult.

  ‘I can tell. I’m always attracted to the wrong kind of man.’

  ‘So you are attracted to me,’ he said slowly, trying to work out why she seemed so distressed by the fact.

  ‘Of course I am,’ she snapped, but before he could get his hopes up she went on to smash them. ‘As much as I hate it.’

  ‘No, really, don’t hold back on account of my feelings,’ he said.

  ‘Oh please,’ she scoffed at his sarcasm. ‘Like you’re into feelings.’

  Linc frowned. Okay, this was starting to get personal. ‘I don’t know what kind of guy you think I am, but you’re way off the mark here.’

  ‘Really?’ she said, tilting her head slightly to size him up. ‘When was your last relationship?’

  He opened his mouth but then shut it again. Damn it, that wasn’t a fair question. How was he supposed to answer that and not have it come out sounding wrong?

  ‘Let me guess … you don’t do relationships, right?’ she said smugly.

  ‘I wouldn’t say that,’ he started, but stopped at her arched eyebrow. ‘Well, they’re just not practical in my line of work.’

  ‘I rest my case.’

  ‘Wait, what? How is that proving anything?’

  ‘Men like you only want women for sex. They need a woman in their life, but only on their terms, and so long as it doesn’t mean they have to commit to anything.’

  ‘Now hang on,’ he said, gobsmacked. Men like him? What the hell?

  ‘Oh, come on, Linc. You’re the classic example of the wrong kind of guy.’

  ‘Would you stop saying that!’ She was really annoying him with her character assassination.

  ‘You asked. I can’t help it if you don’t like the answer.’

  ‘Jesus, you must have picked some real doozies in the past.’

  He saw her jaw flex slightly at the comment, and she plastered a sarcastic smile on her face. ‘Hence the decision not to repeat the mistake.’

  Well, that came back to bite him on the arse. ‘For the record, I have never intentionally hurt a woman in my life. I’m always up front with what I can and can’t offer.’

  ‘I stand corrected,’ she said with a large helping of sugary sweetness. ‘But clearly I was not mistaken in assuming you’re the wrong kind of man for me.’

  ‘What exactly is the right kind of man for you?’

  ‘Someone who isn’t afraid of making a commitment. Someone who wants an equal, not a doormat or a bed warmer. Someone loyal, affectionate and reliable.’

  ‘You forgot obedient, and I think you might be confusing a boyfriend with a dog.’

  She gave a one-shouldered shrug as she turned away. ‘Maybe. But I know what I don’t want anymore and that’s the main thing.’

  ‘You wanted someone like my brother,’ he said after watching her silently for a few moments. ‘But that didn’t work out, did it?’ He moved across to stand in front of her. ‘You can’t pick a
compatible match from an itemised list of personal traits.’

  ‘Yes, you can,’ she argued, lifting her head.

  ‘People are not found on supermarket shelves. You don’t go looking for a mate with a shopping list.’

  ‘I know what I don’t want.’

  ‘I think you’re fighting the inevitable,’ he said softly, watching her eyes flicker uncertainly as he took another step closer. ‘Chemistry decides who we fall for, not commonsense. You don’t want quiet and docile, you want someone who makes you feel wild and alive,’ he said, lowering his head slowly, their lips barely a breath apart. ‘You want a man who knows what he’s doing and knows all the right ways to make you feel good. You need this,’ he said, taking her lips and feeling them tremble beneath his.

  The moment he made contact with her, all the self-assured swagger left him—he was lost. He was drowning, but in a good way. The soft supple mouth beneath his was anything but compliant—it was just as demanding as his and it was unapologetic in what it wanted from him. If he thought for one moment he was proving some kind of point, he was sorely mistaken. He couldn’t remember a mere kiss bringing him to his knees the way this one was doing. His hands slipped from her face down to her waist, pulling her firmly against him. A spark of satisfaction flowed through him at her sharp intake of breath, and he pushed the advantage, sliding one hand under her shirt, his hand caressing the bare skin, and feeling her shiver against him. Her soft whimper was almost his undoing. It sent a wave of longing and need through him so powerful that it made his hands shake.

  When she wrenched her mouth from his, they were both breathing hard. ‘I don’t …’ she started, closing her eyes to get herself under control. ‘I can’t … do this.’

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘This,’ she said frowning. ‘You.’

  ‘You can’t fight what your body wants, Cash,’ he said, loosening his hold on her reluctantly.

  ‘I can if it’s only going to get me back where I started. I need to begin making changes, Linc.’

  ‘Maybe you already have.’