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Authors: Nicola Marsh

Tags: #vacation, #international, #interracial, #holiday romance, #workplace, #australian, #irish hero, #maydecember romance

Walking the Line (8 page)

BOOK: Walking the Line
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I’d hated Mum for her selfishness. Blamed her
for my lack of siblings and lost family. It was the reason I’d
wanted to have kids early, to make my own family.

Look how that had turned out.

But I returned to Circular Quay every Monday
morning to remember a time I was happy, before family bust-ups and
relationship failings and having my heart ripped out because I
couldn’t have what I wanted most.

“Thought I might find you here.”

My heart sank as Finn sat next to me: too
close, too gorgeous, too much.

“Leave me alone,” I growled, draining the
last of my coffee and instantly craving another. Not that I really
needed it, because the caffeine didn’t give me half as much of a
buzz as Finn’s proximity.

“Can’t do that,” he said, resting his elbows
on the back of the bench and stretching out his legs, looking like
a carefree tourist lapping up the sun. “We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t.” I crushed the plastic cup in
my hand and lobbed it into a nearby bin. “And by the way, you’re
fired. So pack your things and get out before I return.”

To my astonishment, he laughed. “You’re not
getting rid of me that easily.”

“Would you prefer I take out a restraining
order?” My tone was sickly sweet. “Bet that would go down a treat
with Immigration and your working visa.”

He didn’t speak and when I shot him a
sideways glance, rather than seeing panic, I glimpsed
amusement.

“You’d do anything to get rid of me,
huh?”

“Yep.” If I nodded any harder my head would
fall off.

“Too bad for you, because I’m not going
anywhere.” He swiveled to face me and his fingertip brushed my
shoulder. I jumped at the surge that awakened my body far better
than the two lattes. “You trusted me with the truth. Now it’s time
I trusted you.”

Damn him for piquing my curiosity.

“I’ll take your silence as approval to
continue?” His mouth twisted into a wry grin and I had a hard time
blocking out the vivid memories of how his mouth felt against mine.
And lower.

Cursing my stupidity for wanting to hear what
he had to say, I managed the briefest of nods.

“The turf position in Melbourne? My
grandfather’s dream, not mine.” He huffed out a long sigh. “I’m the
epitome of the good Irish son. Family comes first. Lived in Cork my
whole life. Went into the patriarchal business. Had a staid
relationship with the girl next door.”

“I know all this,” I muttered, on the verge
of saying to hell with this and bolting. Nothing Finn could say or
do would change facts: no way could we be a couple, ever.

“Let me finish.” He cleared his throat.
“Being the family’s poster boy can become pretty bloody tiring, so
I’m done. Time to live life on my terms.”

He stared at me, beseeching me to understand,
while I remained clueless.

“I don’t see what you finding a pair of balls
has anything to do with me.”

His roguish smile alerted me to an incoming
zinger. “On the contrary, you seem to be very interested in my
balls.”

For the first time in twenty-four hours, I
felt like laughing. But I didn’t, because making light of this
situation would do nothing to speed up the end goal: getting Finn
to leave once and for all.

“Turf management was a stopgap for me. I can
see that now.” He reached for my hand and I snatched it away,
folding my arms and tucking my hands against my sides. “Honestly? I
don’t know what the hell I want to do career-wise, but I’m damn
sure who I want as my partner while I make important decisions, and
that’s you.”

I hated how my heart leapt at his sincere
declaration. “Important decisions like how many kids to have?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve
never lied to you and I’m not about to start now. Yeah, I want
kids. But don’t you think we should have a real relationship
first?”

“What’s the point, when I can’t give you what
you want—”

“This is the point.”

Before I could react he kissed me, hard and
fast and frantic. I should push him away, I knew that, but for a
few mindless moments I allowed myself to indulge in the firmness of
his lips, the talent of his tongue, and the sensations that flooded
my body whenever he did this.

Surprisingly, he broke the kiss before I did,
holding me at arm’s length, his breathing ragged. “Tell me you
don’t want this.”

I had to lie. It was my only option. But I’d
vowed to never be like my mum, who’d lived a lie before running
away without a second thought.

“I don’t want us to start a relationship
that’s doomed from the start.” He opened his mouth to respond and I
rushed on. “I don’t want you to end up regretting our involvement
or worse, resenting me.”

“But you’ve told me the truth upfront so I
know what I’m getting into,” he said, willing me to believe with
his persuasive tone. “Here are the facts. I’m staying in Sydney
because of you. Not because I need a visa. Not because I want
anything from you. But because I…care about you.”

His quick look-away hinted at something more
than caring and knowing he may feel the same way I did made this
all the harder.

“My folks had a massive age gap, fifteen
years, so mum got bored and ran away with a younger guy when I was
little,” I said, not surprised when his eyes widened. “I’m
reluctant to let history repeat.”

“But you wouldn’t be running away from
anything.” He rubbed my upper arms and damned if I didn’t sway
toward him. “You’d be running toward something. Me.”

He made it sound so simple, so logical. Yet
so insane.

“Let me clue you in to what happens when a
relationship implodes. My Dad was left a shattered man incapable of
making an emotional connection, let alone caring for his daughter.
So I ended up wanting the one thing I didn’t have, a family, and
hooked up with the first guy who looked my way because of it.”

The truth tumbled out of me in a rush and
once I started I couldn’t stop. “I moved in with Dougal the day I
turned eighteen, in a perfect cottage we could barely afford. But I
was starry-eyed and hopeful and in love. So in love I wanted to
start a family ASAP to make up for the family I’d never had.”

Finn’s hands stilled, supporting my elbows,
solid. I saw the surprise in his eyes. Wait until he heard the
rest.

“He proposed a month later. I accepted. We
wanted to have our kids young and close together.” I dragged in a
breath, the pain of the past making my lungs seize. “When it didn’t
happen for us, we went through investigations. I discovered I was
reproductively challenged and a month later Dougal left town.”

Finn’s fingers dug into me. “I’m so
sorry—”

“That’s the thing about being damaged.
Doesn’t make people want to stick around.” I swallowed the lump in
my throat. “First Mum did a runner, then Dougal bolted, so I left
my picket fence dreams behind, moved to the Cross, toughened up and
discovered it’s much easier depending on myself.”

“You’re not damaged.” Sorrow darkened his
eyes to the deepest green as he cupped my face. “You’ve put your
faith in the wrong people. Let me be part of your life, Ellie. I
promise I won’t let you down.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I
muttered, looking over his shoulder so I wouldn’t be tempted to
drown in his eyes, eyes filled with sincerity. “Want to know why I
chose the Cross to settle? Because it’s real and in your face and
brutally honest. It doesn’t pretend to be something it’s not. It
lets me be the person I want to be.”

He released me, stepped back and gestured at
my outfit. “That’s what the armor’s all about, isn’t it? The
leather, the make-up, the chunky jewelry, it’s a mask to help you
blend in.”

“So?”

“But don’t you see, you’re giving up on your
dream?”

My lips compressed. “I’m running a successful
bar in the toughest part of town. I’m living the dream.”

“You’re settling.”

“Fuck you,” I said, turning away, but he
wouldn’t let me, his hand landing on my shoulder to spin me back
around.

“What’s reproductively challenged anyway? Not
impossible to have kids, right? Which means you’re the one who’s
running, who’s too damn scared to face the tough stuff to get what
you want. You want kids? Then do something about it.”

I shrugged off his hand and shoved him away,
my latent anger sparking by the hint of truth in his too astute
observation. “You volunteering? To go through endless rounds of
jerking off into a cup, giving me hormone injections, coping with
mood swings, hospital visits, probable miscarriages and the
exorbitant cost?”

For the first time since I’d met him, Finn
looked angry, genuinely angry. A deep frown slashed his brows, his
neck muscles bulged and his fingers curled into fists.

“Didn’t you hear a word I fucking said
earlier? Of course I’m volunteering,” he yelled, causing several
passersby to glance our way. It didn’t faze him. “I love you, for
Chrissakes and I want to be with you for the long haul, good times
and bad, whatever it takes.”

Shock rendered me speechless as he started to
pace, muttering under his breath. “Goddamn stubborn woman. Too
independent for your own good. Why can’t you accept the fact I’m
crazy for you and won’t run out ‘til you kick me out on my
arse?”

And for the first time since he’d found me
here, I dared to believe.

Finn was right. I was scared. Terrified, in
fact, of trying to have kids and failing. Or discovering it was too
bloody hard and I wasn’t up to the effort.

But here was a guy willing to try. A guy who
loved me.

A guy I loved.

In the end, I guess it came down to that.

I loved Finn.

In a way I’d never loved anyone and if I
headed down this tension-fraught road, I couldn’t think of anyone
else I’d rather have by my side.

With unfamiliar elation fizzing through my
body, I stood and broached the short distance between us. “How
about we trial a relationship first, then see if your swimmers and
my eggs are compatible later on?”

His head jerked up, his stunned gaze
searching my face for answers I was finally,
finally
, ready
to give.

“You mean—”

“Come here, you big, Irish hunk.” I grabbed
him and kissed the life out of him, before coming up for air. “And
by the way? I love you, too.”

The sound of a Manly ferry horn drowned out
his response. I didn’t care. There’d be plenty of time for words
later. Maybe a lifetime of Irish-accent-laced words if I was
lucky.

EPILOGUE

 

Two years later...

 

FINN

 

 

“I’m worried about Kye.” I wrapped my arm
around Ellie as we watched our best friend annihilate an opponent
under a blazing Sydney summer sun. While I loved living in this
vibrant city, I’d never get used to the heat.

“Me too,” Ellie said, staring at Kye refusing
to shake his opponent’s hand before slouching off to the sidelines
to swipe a towel over his face. “I’ve never seen him this angry all
the time. Has he said anything to you?”

“No. You?”

She shook her head, soft honey-brown waves
caressing my shoulder. I may have fallen in love with a
spiky-haired platinum blonde, but I liked this softer version of
her just as much. “You two hang out together. Surely you’ve picked
up a vibe, a clue to what’s really bugging him, something?”

I snorted. “We’re guys. We body surf at
Bondi. Drink beer at the footy. D&Ms aren’t a feature.”

She elbowed me. “Ssh, he’s coming this
way.”

We both stood and waited for Kye to reach us.
If he’d looked angry on the court, where he’d wiped his opponent
6-0, 6-1, 6-0, he positively glowered now. Something was definitely
wrong and if I hadn’t been so manic over the last twelve months
doing a part-time management course while working the bar, and
supporting Ellie through our third attempt at IVF, I would’ve
noticed sooner.

“Great game, mate.” I stuck out my hand and
Kye almost broke it, his grip too firm, as he grunted a
greeting.

“You okay?” Ellie touched Kye’s arm and he
flinched.

“Hey.” Seriously concerned, I removed my arm
from Ellie’s waist and took a step toward him. “Want to get a
beer?”

Kye shook his head, and when he finally met
my gaze, I almost recoiled. I’d never seen so much devastated
resignation before.

“I’m on probation at the academy.” Kye glared
at us like we’d been the ones to do it. “Got into a fight with a
junior dickhead.”

I wanted to say he must’ve had a good reason
but over the last twenty-four months I’d got to know the young
Aussie pretty well, and in that time I’d seen Kye’s resentment
build. As if he was angry with the world and didn’t know what to do
about it.

“Anything we can do?” Ellie reached out to
Kye again and this time, he let her hand linger on his shoulder a
moment before stepping out of touch distance.

“Nah, I’ve just got to get my shit together,”
Kye said, looking like it’d take a year of therapy to shift the
baggage he carried around. “Thanks for coming down to watch me
today.”

“Anytime.” Ellie glanced at me and I nodded,
hoping our news might brighten Kye’s day.

Kye’s eyes narrowed as he glanced between us.
“What’s going on with you two loved-up bozos?”

“We’d like you to be Harriet’s mentor at her
name day ceremony,” Ellie said, her awed gaze meeting mine as I
marveled for the umpteenth time at the life we’d created, a
gorgeous one-month-old girl with my eyes and her mum’s
feistiness.

Kye’s expression softened. “Thanks guys, I’d
love to.” But all too soon, the darkness clouded his eyes again.
“You sure you want an angry prick like me though?”

“You’re our best friend,” Ellie said,
standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “And if it weren’t for you
dragging this Irish reprobate into my bar to save his cute arse two
years ago, I wouldn’t be this happy.”

BOOK: Walking the Line
7.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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