Still the One

by Louisa George

  This wasn’t about them.

  Emma let out a long breath and her shoulders slumped a little as if the weight of everyone’s problems were inside her, tugging her down. “I feel bad for them, though. Maybe if we’d lasted the course Megan wouldn’t be thinking like this, she’d be looking forward to her wedding day.”

  “Our lives are not the same as theirs. Our issues aren’t anything like theirs.” He hated that everything seemed to come back to the failure of their marriage. The wonder of it had been that she’d loved him at all. That single kernel of truth would carry him to his deathbed. She’d loved him. He’d been the luckiest guy on the planet. But now? Now he felt like she was saying everyone’s problems were his fault. “We had our reasons. Besides, you got to go to England like you’d always wanted. And I…well, I’m alive, that’s enough for me.”

  “Yes. Yes you are.” Blinking, Emma looked like she was trying to keep control of her emotions and he wished like hell he knew what was really going on in her head because he didn’t think it was just this.

  “This thing you want to talk about…it’s not really about Megan and Bas, is it?”

  “Yes. Of course. Of course it is.” But her cheeks reddened and her shoulders stiffened. “We need to put up a united front. Okay? Try to be like the old times—you know, when the four of us used to hang out and goof around? That might help her settle. Can you do that?”

  Her tone and her misdirection niggled him. He’d never been one to accept condescension or outright avoidance of a direct question. “Of course I can do that. You keep asking me to do things for them. Don’t you think we’ve been pretty tight here, the three of us, while you were away? You don’t trust I can take care of them? Can’t see what they need? They’re my friends, too—I do know how to look out for them.” They’d all been over-efficient at looking after him, dragging him up from the darkest days and keeping on the right path, he owed them his support at least. He’d given back. His long friendship with Bas was one of the strengths in his life. “At least I was here with them, not thousands of kilometers away.”

  And no, he shouldn’t have said that. That was not how he was these days. That bitterness had bubbled up from nowhere. Somewhere. Yeah, he’d missed her but he was surviving, thriving even. “Look, Em. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Don’t you think I wanted to be here? Do you think it was easy leaving you all behind and starting a new life on my own? I didn’t even know if you were going to be alive an hour after I walked out of that door, but I had to go, Danny, you know that. I missed you every single day. Every. Single. Day.” Emma’s eyes darkened as the atmosphere charged with tension. He really shouldn’t have said that. She leaned closer so he would hear every word. “And you could have come with me. That had been the plan, after all, if you remember? We were going to conquer the world. You chose to stay. You told me to leave, you said you didn’t want me here.”

  “I said you were better off going. That’s a whole different thing.”

  “Is it? Because that’s not what it felt like at all.” Emma’s cracked voice rose. This whole trip had taken a dive he’d been trying to avoid. But it had been simmering since yesterday, it was going to blow sooner or later. Better now than on the top table at the wedding breakfast. She shook her head, irritation leaking from every pore. “And I wasn’t suggesting you don’t know how to be nice to people. I know you can be.”

  “But history proves I’m a jerk, right?”

  “You’re being one now, actually.” Ouch. He probably deserved that too. “Because all I’m trying to do is help out a friend, so you could just say you understand the situation and will work with me.”

  “If I’m not giving every damned bit of myself to helping Bas and Megan this weekend, then why do you think I’m sitting here. In this thing? With my…wife?”

  Her lips tightened as she spoke, quietly but forcefully. “You could leave.”

  “Oh yeah?” He looked around at the lapping water, the birds overhead. The big stretch of ocean between them and dry land. “And how the hell would I do that?”

  “You’d work it out.” She rocked the boat a little and gestured to the sea. There was almost a smile—it had a ring of I won to it.

  She hadn’t won. No way had she won. He rocked the boat harder. “You mean, like this?”

  “No. No, Daniel Wade, don’t you freaking dare.”

  “Stop me.” Tired of having to prove himself one more time, he lurched sharply from side to side dredging up a game they’d enjoyed playing over the years. She loved the tease and the fun of it. If this didn’t break the tension he didn’t know what would.

  And there was nothing much wrong with a hot girl in a wet bathing suit with a glare and a tease in her eyes. Damn it, he’d loved to wind her up to the point where she’d give him hell. Masochist? Probably. He’d also loved the passion and the sex when he’d whipped her into a fury.

  She gripped the sides of the boat, eyes wide. A screech. Their tiff forgotten. Or at least, put aside until later. “Danny Wade, don’t you dare tip this thing over.”

  “Me?” He rocked harder. “You mean…like this?”

  “No! Stop it! Stop it right now!” Without missing a beat she flat-handed the water and sprayed a cool arc over him. “I’m going to get you, you….prize bloody jerk!”

  “I’d like to see you try.” With a sharp twist of his body he had her almost tipped out. Screaming and laughing at the same time she grabbed for him. Her hand slick against his. A grasp. A reach. She caught him. She let him go.

  No. She pushed him.

  She actually pushed him, and he was slipping over and out and under the kayak. The stupid Santa hat disappeared in a fizz of bubbles. Water flooded his nose and mouth as he gasped. Cold. Salty. But no match for him.

  He kicked hard and surfaced facing her, flicking the water from his eyes so he could see her; head tipped back, laughing. A glorious sound. Heavenly. “Just you wait, Dr. Wade, I’m going to get you back for that. And how.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Her hand was out to pull him in. He reached for it, but instead of clasping his fist she waved at him. Grabbed an oar and paddled just a little out of reach. She was grinning widely for the first time since he’d seen her again. A big fat smile that put dimples in her cheeks and the light back in her eyes. God, he’d missed that. “Because you’re going to have to catch me first.”

  * * *

  Emma quickly steered into a deserted sheltered bay, jumped out of the kayak and dragged it up the shore, over tiny pebbles and shells that stung her feet. Then she took shelter in the far corner of the bay underneath an ancient gnarled pohutukawa tree—their tree—and stood on a carpet of tiny fallen crimson stamens. Shivering. Panicking.

  But it was a delicious panic bubbling in her stomach, something she hadn’t felt in a long time. She hadn’t expected that. Or simple fun, straight after an argument. Just like the good old days; forgiving and forgetting; erasing the bad times with a laugh. And a kiss.

  Danny wasn’t far behind, ripping up the waves, then standing shoulder deep, striding out of the sea like Poseidon, with a smile on his lips, a curse in his mouth. He had menace in his eyes.

  And sex was glittering there too.

  The air around her seemed to electrify at the thought. For them the sex had never been the problem. It was everything else.

  “Danny! Finally! Guess you worked it out, then?” Breathless. Bracing herself for his words. Shaking as the water dried on her skin leaving her cold on the outside. Inside, she was burning a fever. “Good to see all that training put to some use.”

  But he said nothing, only fixed her in his sights and strode towards her. Each step making her heart thunder in her chest. As he closed in he unzipped his lifejacket, flung it to the sand leaving his chest bare, his exquisite body rock hard and slick with water. His shorts sticking to his thighs, outlining the strength of his legs. And more.

  She remembered the countless times they’d paddled here at dusk
and made love by the light of a campfire. How she’d clung to him and believed that what they had could never be broken, that it would last forever. She remembered the way they’d laugh at something, at everything, that goofing around had been their default. That serious was something they’d tried to hold back because being a doctor and a cop had enough serious without putting it between them.

  She remembered that they would kiss away each other’s fears. That she couldn’t imagine being anywhere else other than in his arms, held tight and safe and warm. A lifeline from the thrashing sea of life.

  And she wondered how that anchor had slipped so far away from their grasp and whether it was still there, bobbing just out of reach. Maybe some effort. A stretch. A leap of faith?

  When he reached her he was breathing hard and fast, his arm muscles pumped, water dripping from his eyelashes like diamonds. He stopped in front of her. Close. Close enough to touch. Which he did, reaching out a hand to her cheek. His thumb made slow strokes over her skin, stoking an unbearable heat in her gut.

  His gaze locked on to hers as he wiped the droplets from her face, ran a trail to her lip with his fingertips. In his dark mocha eyes a fire burnt, hot and hungry. And she didn’t know whether to run or stay.

  When she bit down on his thumb pad he leaned in and groaned in her ear, “Do that again and you’ll be in big trouble, lady.”

  “Promise or threat?” Another game they’d played so many, many times.

  But she didn’t have time to find out his answer because his mouth slammed over hers, all promise, all threat. The taste of salt and elemental man swamped her. She wanted him. Had never stopped wanting him. Would never, ever stop wanting him.

  She wound her hands around his neck, angling her mouth against his, pulling him tight against her. His skin was cold as she moved her fingers over his shoulders, down his back—his muscles tightening in response. Slowly, she relearnt the feel of him, the taste. The empty, frigid two year gap bridged by sensation and searing heat, by need and touch.

  His hands cupped her cheeks, fingers spiking her hair, innocent almost. A new beginning, belied by his erection pressing hard against her. But when he groaned her name there was nothing innocent about the raw need winding through her, blurring her edges. Her breath stuttered, the ache in her core flared to life. So good to know how much she could still turn him on.

  “God, I’ve missed you,” she managed between kisses, surprised at how much she meant it. But she had missed him. Missed this. Missed this Danny. She knew the other paddlers would be here soon and she didn’t rightly care. Couldn’t think about anything other than melting into him again. She pulled him to the ground, out of view from the shore, her hand sweeping across his sculpted chest. Beneath her fingers was the steady heartbeat of a man she’d known soul deep. A man she’d loved with every fiber of her being.

  Her body was on fire anticipating his touch, heat swirled in her tummy, lower. Her nipples peaked as he crushed her ever tighter, deepening the kiss. His heat and his scent familiar, yet new. Powerful and strong, yielding and giving. And she responded the only way she knew how—by giving herself back to him.

  The kiss was a lifeline from then to now, a relearning, a renewal.

  It wasn’t just about wanting sex. It was about wanting him, the sharp dark guy who knew her thoughts before she did. Who lit up her heart with a smile. Who made her laugh more readily than anyone ever before. Or since.

  Her Danny.

  Danny boy.

  That was the old Daniel Wade. The one who’d broken her. The one who’d sent her away. Who was unreliable and at times unresponsive. Who refused to get help for a problem that was killing them both.

  The panic in her belly returned. This time it wasn’t light and bubbly and fizzing with expectation. It was flat and dark and ominous and tied gnarly knots in her stomach.

  Breathing hard and summoning every tiny bit of strength she could muster she pulled away from him, her heart beating a hasty no. Her head was muddled with what the hell is the right thing to do? She’d been so sure before but now she didn’t have a clue.

  “You okay?” His eyes were still blazing, but there was concern there now too, a softness. Something new, something old, something long forgotten. “I’m sorry, Emma, I shouldn’t have done that. But, hell, a man only has so much resolve.”

  “Danny…listen to me…you know when I said I had something to tell you? Well… I have…I think we should…” Oh, God. It needed to be said. She didn’t know who he was now, but she knew she couldn’t take a risk on him. Because that kind of love only came once in a lifetime and it was gone now. Everything had been tarnished with his drinking, by her selfish need to flee. Lost years. So much pain. How could they ever really find their way back to each other? “I have divorce papers with me. For you to sign.”

  “Whoa.” His eyes narrowed, he looked stunned. Shocked. “That was blunt.”

  She worked hard to keep her voice level. “I made a promise to myself that I’d be honest and open with you.” And things couldn’t go any further until she’d laid her cards in the table.

  “Well, you definitely kept that promise, Em. That’s for sure.” He scooted further away from her as if he’d been punched. Then he stood up, casting a long dark shadow over the sand, blocking out the sun. The shadow was mirrored on her heart, like a dirty smear. “You just let me do that and then you tell me you want a divorce?”

  “It can’t be a surprise, surely?”

  He smeared his fingers across his lips, wiping any trace of the kiss away. “Right now it is. Is it what you want?”

  “Right now I don’t know what I want. Everything’s been hazy since I got back.” Since I saw you. “Maybe it’s the jet-lag? I don’t know.”

  “Jet-lag’s a good excuse for a lot of things, Emma, but not for kissing someone.”

  “I thought I wanted a fresh start. We haven’t set eyes on each other for so long, it’s inevitable that we just finish off the paperwork and draw a line. The law says we have to be separated for two years before we can legally split. It’s just over that. I thought it was the right thing to do.”

  His mouth was tight, his eyes dark. “And now?”

  Her head was all over the place. One minute they were making out like teenagers underneath a bloody New Zealand Christmas tree of all things and now she was spilling her heart to the man who broke it.

  And, in the middle of all of this, she could still taste him, feel his heat. And it was so bloody unfair that walking away unscathed was never going to happen. “Now I’m trying to be honest with you, Danny. I’m confused.”

  “It’s Daniel now. No-one calls me Danny.”

  “I see. I’m sorry. Daniel. But we need to make some decisions.”

  “Is there someone else? Is that it? The kiss was just what? Thanks for the memories? You want a divorce so you can marry someone else?”

  Her heart lurched. No. Never again. “No, there’s no-one else. I’ve never wanted to marry anyone but you.”

  Before he could answer the sharp scrape of boats against shell had them turning round. After one last dark look Danny stalked away from her, the bubble of intimacy broken as he drifted towards the safety of their friends. She heard his tight voice as he spoke to Bas, saw the rigidity of his shoulders, a body taut with anger. Or frustration. Or disappointment. Or all three. “Glad you could make it. What took you?”

  “You want privacy, you only need to ask. No need to paddle halfway to Australia for some us time. We strategically stopped to look at some little blue penguins—thought you might need the opportunity, if you get what I mean. You can thank me later.” Bas winked and shoved a very soggy Santa hat into Daniel’s hand. “You lost this, buddy. Hey, what’s wrong? Problem?”

  Emma didn’t hear Dan’s answer, but she saw his back stiffen as he looked at Bas then reached into the kayak for the duffle bag of food.

  So she meandered towards the others, helped haul the rest of the kayaks up the beach and tried to maintain some
sort of equilibrium. She’d been honest with him, as she’d promised herself. Starting fresh demanded that.

  But the plan was to start fresh alone. This was not the time for her to feel all wound up and pent up and frustrated as if he’d started a slow burn under her skin that was about to erupt any second. Because the whole point of this visit—apart from the wedding—was to end her marriage. Not rekindle it.

  Chapter 5

  “So, give me the goss.” Megan plopped down on the coach seat next to Emma and gave her that all-knowing smile. Two vineyards down and she was what some people might call over-chatty. “If you don’t, I’ll make you sit next to my old Auntie Joyce for the rest of the evening, and she will entertain you with her last eight years’ worth of bowel movement history. Your choice.”

  Geez, Emma had forgotten how hard it was to keep secrets from these guys, especially after an afternoon comprising of six wine samples per visit. Twelve small drinks and the urge to confide in her friend was almost overwhelming. But some things were deeply private, and kissing Danny—Daniel—was definitely private. “Nothing to say. No goss.”

  “Really? So, yesterday you two were smiling and playing in the kayak. Next thing, you don’t speak to each other at the picnic and then…nothing? Really?”

  Not nothing. They’d stared grimly at each other across the bonfire. Paddled back with stony faces and Daniel’s eyes burning a hole in her back. Then she’d made excuses about a headache and left them all to it.

  “Again. Nothing to tell.” Emma folded her arms across her chest. She was not going to talk about Daniel Wade when he was up the front of the coach driving the damned thing. Worse, every time she glanced up at his rearview mirror she could see his brooding eyes. He was refusing to look back at her. They needed to talk.

  No—actually, she needed to leave this damned island regardless of how lovely it was and that her best friends and family were here and it felt a lot like…home. She hadn’t realized until she’d come back that there’d been a hole in her life that being with these guys filled. But she couldn’t spend the rest of her life living close to her ex. She’d die of sexual frustration. And spend every minute wondering whether she had, indeed, done the right thing. “I’m sorry, Meg, but there just isn’t anything I want to talk about where Daniel Wade is concerned.”