A Secret Between Friends: A New Zealand Sexy Beach Romance (Treats to Tempt You Book 6) (3 page)

Niall didn’t reply, watching as Genie pulled back from his brother and turned to him. She shoved her hands in her pockets and lifted her gaze to his. Her eyes shone, but her tears remained unshed, which didn’t surprise him. She’d never cried as a girl. She’d yelled, stamped her feet, and thrown numerous objects at him, but she’d always fought against tears, hating that they made her look weak.

“Well, well, well.” He leaned back on the bar and linked his fingers. “It’s G.I. Josephine.”

“Well, well, well, it’s the Little Mermaid,” she retorted. “Found Nemo yet?”

“Nope. Still looking.” He gestured at her cane. “You’re not getting any better at the job, I see.”

Her lips curved in a wry smile. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Beck and Jonah watching them warily, but he ignored them for now.

“Don’t I get a salute?” he asked.

“You’re not my superior,” she pointed out.

“That’s open for debate.”

She snorted, and he grinned. “What have you been up to?” he asked.

“Serving queen and country. You?”

“Being a beach bum.”

“Figures.” Her nose wrinkled. “You haven’t changed.”

“Neither have you. You still stand as if you’ve swallowed a broom handle. At ease, soldier.”

Her eyes flared. “If you were my subordinate, I’d have you doing laps around the bar for giving me lip.”

“If I was your subordinate, we’d be in an alternate dimension and I’d be waiting for Dr. Who to rescue me.”

That made her laugh, and the last dregs of his resentment faded away.

Her eyes still held a hint of wariness, but that didn’t surprise him. Sinead, Garret, and Finn had disapproved of the two girls going into the Army, but they’d mostly kept their thoughts to themselves. Niall had been the only one to be more vocal on the subject.

He could still remember what he’d said to Genie the day he’d found out what the two girls were going to do. He’d been twenty-two, fresh from university; the girls had been eighteen. Sinead had phoned him and dissolved into tears as she told him the girls had applied to join the Australian Defence Force Academy scheme to take their degree along with military training. Normally, he’d kept his opinions to himself. Genie had never listened to him anyway, and Ciara had always done whatever Genie had told her to do. Plus, he’d never been the kind of guy who’d spend hours debating the whys and wherefores of a situation. But finally he’d felt the need to speak out.

He’d found Genie and taken her to one side.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he’d demanded.

“It’s a great career,” she’d snapped. “They’ll pay our university fees, and we’re guaranteed a job afterward.”

“The Army? Seriously?”

“It’ll be perfect.” Her eyes had shone. “We’ll be able to travel all over the place. I can’t wait, Niall. Please, be happy for me.”

He’d glared at her, thinking her naïve, that she was seeing the occupation through rose-tinted spectacles. “I don’t care what you do,” he’d bit out, ignoring her wince at his harsh tone. “But Ciara… She’s not the same as you.”

She’d tossed her head. “She’ll be fine.”

“You know she’s only joining up because you are.”

“Don’t talk about her like she hasn’t got a brain. This is her decision, not mine. Talk to her about it if you’re worried about her.”

So he had. He’d accused his baby sister, “You’re only joining up because of Genie.”

Her eyes had flashed. “This is my decision! I can make up my own mind, you know.” And right then, he’d known it was pointless to object. Ciara had always been the one in Genie’s shadow. In many ways it had been a good thing—Genie had encouraged her out of her shell, prodding her to try new sports and activities she wouldn’t normally have had the courage to do if she’d been on her own. But it had also got her into trouble many times, like when Genie had dared Ciara to smoke a cigarette on the fields at school. Ciara had taken a puff, promptly got caught by a prefect, and had been stood down for three days. Genie had been honorable enough to admit to the principal that she’d provided the cigarette, but it had always been that way—Genie goading Ciara to do something, and Ciara paying the price. And now she’d paid the biggest price of all.

Since the two of them had enlisted, a coolness had grown between him and Genie, something he’d neither desired nor had meant to happen. But he understood why her big blue eyes held hesitancy. Why she was worried he’d be angry with her, maybe not even talk to her again. He couldn’t honestly say he thought her completely blameless. There was no doubt that Ciara wouldn’t have gone into the Army if it wasn’t for her, and he hadn’t been sure if he could ever forgive her for that.

But with her standing before him, the only thing that filled his heart was a blazing sun of happiness and relief that she’d come home alive.

He pushed himself off the bar.

“Ten-
hut!
” she said with a smile, but her eyes glistened.

“Come here,” he said, and she walked forward and slid her arms around his waist.

Genie buried her nose in Niall’s shoulder. Meeting Sinead had been as bad as she’d feared, but at least there had been no yelled accusations, no terrible outpourings of grief. She’d been cold-shouldered, and although it made her incredibly sad, it could have been a lot worse.

Not only that, but neither Finn nor Niall appeared to harbor resentment toward her. Or at least, if they did, it had been overridden by pleasure at seeing her, which was a good start.

Maybe aware of her unsteadiness bearing in mind she held her cane behind his back while she leaned against him, Niall’s arms tightened, and he rubbed her back with one hand while around them the others started talking about the rugby match that was about to start on the TV.

Genie finally let go of the last ounce of tension that had fused her spine, and she softened in his arms, letting his warmth seep into her bones. He smelled of summer, like he always did—salt and sun lotion and fresh air. Getting a good sniff of Niall Brennan was like taking a boat trip to Russell on a breezy day. It was a wonder the guy’s skin wasn’t as wrinkled as an eighty-year-old’s considering how much time he spent out in the sun and in the water, but he was the epitome of great health, sensibly tanned, every muscle on his body fit and toned. He wore jeans and an old faded navy T-shirt that bore the slogan “Divers Do it Deeper” in white. She had no doubt that the pots of mussels currently being served around the bar on seafood platters had been brought up from the ocean floor by him that morning.

He said something in answer to a question Beck asked, and his deep voice reverberated through his chest along with an accompanying low chuckle, but he continued to stroke her back, reassuring and soothing, telling her he hadn’t forgotten she was pressed up against him.

Genie closed her eyes, wishing she could stay there all evening. Even though he’d tormented her through her childhood and made much of her teenage life a misery with his teasing, and there had been tension between them since she and Ciara had enlisted, he’d always made her feel safe and secure, as if nothing could go wrong when he was nearby. He was one of life’s good guys, and she couldn’t believe Tamsin had let him escape her clutches. Why had they broken up? It didn’t make sense. She’d have to remember to ask him about it later.

She really should pull away. It would look odd if she didn’t step back soon. She hadn’t even hugged her brothers for this long. But Niall showed no signs of wanting to let her go. To her surprise, she felt the press of his lips on the top of her head, a gesture that sent heat through her. He was missing his sister, that was all. This was a party in Ciara’s honor, and he was trying to tell Genie that he was glad she hadn’t died too. It was an affectionate touch, a filial one.

He did
not
have the same feelings about her that she had about him.

Genie bit her lip. He’d never been aware of the huge crush she’d had on him the whole way through her teenage years. She’d been careful to hide it behind a veneer of mock-annoyance and banter, and had played the irritating little sister card well. But as his hand brushed lightly down her back stirring all kinds of hidden feelings the way a hand trailed through the sea would swirl the sand beneath it, she knew nothing had changed.

Clearing her throat, she pushed herself back and gave his arm a playful whack. “Did you touch my butt then?”

He gave her the usual, exasperated smile he reserved just for her. “In your dreams.”

Mmm. Little do you know, Niall Brennan.

“Charming. Having a grope when your mate’s experiencing a poignant moment.”

He laughed and brushed his fingers against her cheek. “It’s good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back.” Her face tingled where he’d touched her, but she ignored it and instead looked past him across the bar. It
was
good to be back. She’d missed the Bay of Islands, the warm, sultry summer evenings infused with the smell of jasmine, the sound of seagulls and the gentle brush of waves along Paihia beach, the taste of salt and barbecued food.

She’d also missed the bar. Beck had trained at the Professional Bar and Restaurant School in Auckland and had worked on a cruise liner for a couple of years, serving behind the bar and enjoying his main love, mixing cocktails. Then, just a year ago, their father had died.

After making a small fortune in the building industry when house prices skyrocketed in Doubtless Bay, their father had moved back to the nearby small seaside town of Opua when Genie was sixteen. When he’d died, he’d left behind a spacious home and a decent amount of money to be divided between his three kids. Beck had spent his part of the inheritance on
Between the Sheets
, a bar on Paihia’s seafront that served drinks of all kinds, but especially his favorite, cocktails.

Situated in the town center, but also close to the holiday parks, it had proved popular with locals and holidaymakers alike. Outside was a large beer garden, with deck heaters for the cooler nights, several outdoor sofas, and even a few hammocks pinned up on the grassy bank between the trees for those patrons wishing to relax under the stars while they sipped their cocktails. Inside, Beck had decorated it in fresh pastel colors, giving it the look of a beach bar, with sand on the floorboards and shells scattered around the tables. Large photographs of surfers caught mid-wave decorated the walls.

The man who’d taken the photographs approached, and Genie smiled as he leaned forward for a kiss.

“Good to see you again,” Kole said.

“Likewise.” Genie liked Kole. A photographer who ran his own business, he’d gone to the same school as Beck and Jonah when they lived in Mangonui, and he and some of their other friends were regular customers at Beck’s bar.

She winked at the dark-haired woman who came to stand by his side. “I think congratulations are in order, aren’t they?”

Tasha held up her hand and flashed her wedding ring. “Just got back from the honeymoon in Fiji.”

“Wow, I bet that was fabulous.” Genie kissed her on the cheek and dutifully admired her wedding and engagement rings.

“It was. The South Pacific at its absolute best.” Tasha glowed with happiness.

“Plus she’s now officially stuck with me,” Kole said cheerfully.

“Never thought I’d see you hitched.” Niall took a swallow of his beer. “Thought you’d be the eternal bachelor.”

“Well, she kept nagging me, and it was easier to give in than keep saying no.” He grinned, and Tasha nudged him in the ribs, but she didn’t move away when he bent for a kiss.

“I must admit though,” Kole said, straightening, “I’m surprised I was the first to tie the knot. None of you are even close, are you?” They all shook their heads. Kole nodded at Jonah. “What about you?”

Genie snorted as Jonah raised an eyebrow. “The day I see Jonah Sharpe with a ring on his finger, there’ll be snow Down Under—and I don’t mean Australia.”

Everyone laughed.

Kole put his arm around his wife and cleared his throat. “Guys, Tash and I just wanted to say thanks for inviting us today. We were so sorry to hear about Ciara.”

Everyone’s smiles faded, the same way the sunlight was dying slowly outside.

Finn had wandered off earlier to a few friends on the other side of the bar, but Niall nodded. “Thanks. And thank you for coming, too. The funeral was dire. No funerals are fun, but it was especially depressing. Ciara would have hated it.”

Niall’s eyes met Genie’s, and she nodded in affirmation. Ciara had been like sunlight on water—bright and sparkling, full of light and energy. Both girls had loved sports, bright colors, loud music, and spicy food, and although Ciara had occasionally been content to read a good book whereas Genie found it difficult to sit still for long, nevertheless she knew her best friend would have hated a dark, melancholy funeral.

“She’d have liked this, though.” Genie gestured to the rest of the people in the bar. Strains of their conversation contained stories of Ciara, and although a few tears were being shed, there was also plenty of laughter.

“Come on,” Beck said. “Drinks all round, and then we can have a toast.” He smiled at his sister. “A Between the Sheets?”

“Yes, please.” Genie loved the combination of rum, Cognac, Triple Sec, and fresh lemon juice that formed the cocktail after which the bar took its name, and Beck always mixed it to perfection.

While he poured everyone a drink, she finally lowered herself onto a stool and rested her cane against the bar. It was a relief to take the weight off her leg.

“Is it painful?” Niall leaned on the bar beside her, which surprised her. She’d assumed that once he said hello, he’d leave her alone for the evening. She still wasn’t convinced he wasn’t mad at her.

She rubbed her thigh, above the new joint. “A dull ache. I’m still on meds so it’s not as bad as it could be.”

“What did you have done?”

“A total knee replacement. A bullet completely shattered the joint.”

Niall winced. “Ouch. So what’s the recovery time?”

“I was told I should be walking without the cane at six weeks, but I don’t feel confident without it at the moment.” She rubbed her thigh again. “It’s not healing as well as it should, to be honest. I think it’s psychological.” Her lips twisted, and she accepted the cocktail from Beck and gratefully took a sip.

“Are you seeing someone?” Niall tipped his head to the side.

She blinked in surprise. “Um, no.” As long as it wasn’t with someone directly in your chain of command, relationships were allowed in the Army, and she’d dated several guys over the years. Since their latest posting to Afghanistan, there hadn’t been anyone who’d taken her interest. “Young, free, and single, that’s me.”

Humor lit Niall’s eyes. “I meant a therapist.”

“Ah.” She fought against embarrassment. If he saw her blush, she’d never hear the end of it. “In that case yes, I did in the hospital. They want me to find someone while I’m home, too. I’ll see.” The truth was that she didn’t enjoy the therapy sessions. Talking about what had happened made her feel uncomfortable. It stopped the negative emotions and memories fading, like constantly refreshing a browser page.

Niall nodded, but the light in his pale green eyes told her he wasn’t going to let her comment slide. “Still single?” he said. “I would have thought you’d have every soldier in the Army under your spell by now.”

“Not quite.” She smiled. “I’ve missed you.”

It was partially true. Ultimately, it had been easier for her not to be near him. As she’d moved through her teenage years and her crush on him had deepened, it had made it more difficult to see him with other women, especially once he’d met Tamsin. The red-haired Aussie had been two years older than him. It had been hard watching them together, but deep down Genie had understood that her infatuation would never be reciprocated, and she’d been glad he’d found someone who’d treated him well and made him happy. She’d been waiting for them to announce their engagement, or even for Tamsin to say she was pregnant—neither would have surprised her. Instead, they’d broken up.

She opened her mouth to ask what had happened, but at that moment Beck slid the final drink across the bar to Jonah and raised his own glass. “To Ciara.”

Genie lifted her cocktail. “To Ciara.” She sipped it as everyone echoed the words, conscious of emotion tightening her throat. All these people had loved Ciara, and now she was gone. For a moment, she couldn’t swallow, and she closed her eyes, waiting for the wave of grief to pass.

Someone’s hand rested on her upper arm and squeezed. “You okay?”

Opening her eyes, she expected to see everyone staring at her in concern, but only Niall was aware of the brief swell of sorrow that had gripped her.

She nodded. “Sorry. It gets me like that occasionally.”

“Yeah, me too. I’ll be thinking about something completely normal like the rugby, and then I’ll suddenly remember, and I’ll feel sad, and guilty that I forgot for a moment.”

Niall hardly ever talked about feelings. He was a typical Kiwi guy—down-to-earth, practical—a doer, not a thinker. Well, not a discusser of his thoughts, anyway. She’d once overheard him having a quarrel with Tamsin, and Tamsin had yelled at him, “For Christ’s sake, will you tell me what’s going on in your head? I haven’t got a fucking crystal ball!”

So it was odd to hear him describe how he felt, and it echoed her own feelings so much that her eyes widened. “That’s it exactly. I know we can’t grieve every minute of every day, but it does feel like I’m…I don’t know…betraying her, I suppose, when I do think of something else.”

He hesitated. “Gin, I—”

But he was interrupted by Jonah, who asked him if he remembered the time when they’d played hide and seek with the girls, then run off when the girls had hidden and left them there for a good fifteen minutes before they realized what had happened. Everyone laughed, and Genie sat back and let the conversation move on as people shared their memories of Ciara.

There would be plenty of time to talk to Niall over the next few weeks. She watched him for a moment as he related a tale of them all when they were young. His brown hair was touched with gold where he spent so long in the sun. He wore it short at the back because it was easier for swimming, but it was longer on top, and some of the strands flopped over his forehead. His light green eyes creased at the outer edges because he spent most of his life smiling, and he had straight white teeth with slightly longer canines that gave him a vampiric air she’d always found attractive.