Enjoy Your Stay (18 page)

Just as I’m about to glance away, Chelcie looks up, and sees me staring like a total stalker. She whispers something to Jack, and he turns around and smiles at me. Clearly, they were both unaware they had an audience. I hear her say something to him about leaving her phone inside, and then he’s bounding up the stairs towards me, pulling back the screen and walking in the house. Chelcie walks over to the veranda too, close enough to speak comfortably, but not close enough to punch in the face. It’s as if she’s worried I might go postal and bite her head off. I guess that’s a very real possibility, what with the way she was holding onto Jack a second ago.

“I just wanted to say goodbye,” she says quietly. “I’m heading back to Tenterfield.”

“Oh,” I mutter lamely.

“Come on, Holly, you can act a little happier about that. It’s not like I thought you were my number-one fan, or anything.”

“It’s not personal.”

“I know.”

“Sorry I was such a raving bitch.”

Chelcie smiles. “No, you’re not.”

“You’re right, I’m not. I’m always a raving bitch.”

She laughs. It’s genuine, and sweet, and it makes her whole face light up.
Bitch
. “I understand why, though. Look, you can tell me to shut up, but I think you should know he’s hurting pretty bad right now.”

“Yeah. Coop kinda did a number on his face there, huh?”

“He did, but we both know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Well, he didn’t seem all that hurt last night when he was doing you in his room.”

“He didn’t sleep with me, Holly. And it wasn’t for lack of me trying.”

“But I heard—”

“Two old friends getting drunk.”

“Yeah, I know how that goes, especially when Jackson Rowe is one of the old friends.”

“Things are different now. He’s different.” She sighs, and sits down beside me. “His pride is hurt, so given what I know of Jack, he’d let you think that’s what happened, even if it wasn’t true.”

She laughs, and lifts the hem of her cotton tank top. I begin turning my head in the opposite direction—the last thing I want is Chelcie’s perfectly flat stomach imprinted in my mind for all eternity—but the black ink slashing her smooth skin makes me pause. There’s some hideous drawing of a stick figure fairy riding what looks like a unicorn. At least I think it’s a unicorn, it could be a horse with a penis on its head.

“Last night I told him I wanted a tattoo. Jack told me to save my skin.” She shrugs. “I don’t know, though, I’m thinking of having Elijah’s tattoo artist etch over the
Sharpie
.”

“Well sure, if your plan is to never get laid again,” I say, and then laugh as I look her over. “You should totally do that.”

Chelcie smiles, but it’s not light-hearted like before. “He cares more for you than he likes to let on. Maybe give him a bit of a break?”

My smile quickly disappears. I clear my throat. “He beat the shit out of Coop, for no reason.”

“Not for no reason; for you. Look, I know he can be a bit of a caveman at times, and God knows he isn’t perfect, but he’s worth fighting for, Holly. You’d be hard pressed to find a better man than Jack.”

“That why you’re running away to nowhere?”

“Sometimes you gotta know when to let go of those you love.”

I frown as I search her face. “Even if it means being unhappy?”

“Especially when it means being unhappy. I love him, more than he will ever fully comprehend.” She smiles through a smattering of tears. “But I don’t make him happy. You make him happy. If things had been different between us, if Jack hadn’t been between us, I think I would have liked you, Holly Harris.” Chelcie shrugs. “If you hadn’t been such a cunt, that is.”

I burst out laughing. Perfect, ex-fiancée Chelcie isn’t such an angel after all. “Yeah, I still woulda hated your hair and your perfect arse though.”

“Yeah, and I still woulda hated your opinionated, loud mouth.” She laughs. “Remember what I said, because if I find out you’ve broken his heart I will hunt your pregnant bum down.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

“He’s stubborn, and kind of an arse, so don’t let him get away with shit, or he’ll think it’s okay to keep going. And he’s kind of a child when he doesn’t get his own way, but he deserves someone who makes him happy. He deserves someone to love him as much as I think you do.”

“I’m not—”

Jackson clears his throat, and pushes the screen door open. “I couldn’t find it.”

“Sorry.” She pulls her iPhone from her pocket. “I must have had it the whole time.”

He frowns, and glances between us, suspicious. “You all set, then?”

“Yeah.” Chelcie stands, and walks down our short flight of stairs. Jackson tags along behind her. Though I know she said nothing happened, I can’t help but still feel a twinge of jealousy. “So, thanks for having me. I’m glad you’ve found a home here, Jack. I’ll be seeing you.”

He leans in for a huge hug, and I glance away, but not before I see his gaze sweep over me and meet mine. “See ya, Chelc. You drive safe.”

“Sure will. I’ll call you when I get there, just so you know I got home okay.”

“Sounds good.”

“Bye.” She waves, and then she walks her perfect arse to her perfect car, and drives out of our un-perfect lives.

Jack sits down on the seat beside me. His shoulders slump, as he rests his elbows on his knees, and he lets out a long sigh. I can tell he’s hurting that she’s gone, which I don’t really understand. If he feels that way, then why the hell didn’t he just ask her to stay? Maybe his face is hurting from the beating he took. He clears his throat, and says, “You look nice.”

At the same time, I say, “How’s your lip?”

“Hurts like a motherfucker, but I’m a big boy.”

“Well, that’s debatable, Jack.”

“You never had any complaints.”

“That’s not what I meant. I was actually referring to your antics last night.”

“Which ones?”

I just sigh, and shake my head disapprovingly.

Jack picks at a thread on his jeans, avoiding my gaze. “So, where are you off to?”

“Coop’s taking me somewhere to talk.”

“You can’t talk here?”

“Obviously not with you here, no.”

“He afraid of getting his arse kicked again?”

“The way I saw it, you both had your arses kicked by Cade.”

He pinches his thumb and pointer finger together. “I was this close to beating his fucking head in.”

“Nice, Jack. You forgetting that’s the father of my child you’re talking about?”

“Nope. Not for a second.”

“What’s going on with you?” I ask quietly, half-afraid that he might snap, and storm off in a hissy-fit without giving me any real answers. “When did things change between us?”

“You gonna take his sorry arse back?”

My God. It’s like trying to pin down a puppy in a room full of bones. I think I’m getting emotional whiplash.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t have a clue what the
right thing
is, here.”

“You know you’re not alone, right? You don’t have to move away with him, or be with him just because he’s your emo baby-daddy dipshit. You can stay here, and we’ll all help you. I mean, I don’t know shit about kids, but I’ll learn. I’ll read shit, and I’ll build one of those fucking cage things you stick them in when they need a time out, or when you need a time out, or whatever.”

“It’s called a playpen, doofus. Putting your kids in a cage is kinda illegal.” I deadpan. “And it wouldn’t matter how many books you read, or how many playpens you built, I’m still on my own here.”

“No you’re not, Hols. Don’t you fucking get it?”

“Jack—” I begin, but stop short when Coop’s hire car pulls up the drive.

I have my eyes glued to the vehicle, so I’m completely startled when Jack reaches out and jerks my face to his, just as Coop pulls up in front of the house. He threads his hands in my hair and kisses me hard, smearing my gloss across his mouth, and then he shoves his tongue between my lips and down my throat until I’m practically choking on it. There’s none of the passion or need of our other kisses, like there was when he fucked me on the kitchen counter. This is purely for show, a man marking his territory, like a fucked-up mutt.

I shove him back, and hear Coop’s car door open. And then I shove him some more. Jack looks hurt, but his expression is smug, too. He knows I’m thinking about him, and he knows that even though I’m annoyed he played hockey with my windpipe, and almost caused me to stop breathing, I’m also thinking about having him between my thighs right now. I glare at him, but it doesn’t make one bit of difference. He’s still filled to bursting with self-satisfaction. I shake my head, and walk away.

Coop stands, stiff-as-a-board, against his car door. He’s just waiting for the go-ahead to beat down on my “fuck buddy” again.
God, Jack is such an arsehole.

“You okay?” Coop asks.

“Yeah,” I say. He rushes to open the door for me, but as he just spent the last twenty seconds staring daggers at Jack, he’s a little too late, and I open my own car door, climb in, and slam it before they can come to fisticuffs about something else.

I watch Jack’s face as Coop reverses us down the drive. He doesn’t look nearly as self-assured as he did a minute ago. He runs a hand over his face, and then stands and walks inside with his shoulders hunched.

I swear, sometimes I think I’d have more clarity being locked in a whole room full of mental patients for the rest of my life than I have with just five minutes spent with that man.

O
NCE THE
Jackarse is out of sight, I realise just how awkward this date really is. I’m riding in a car with the father of my unborn child. We’ve said five words to one another since he found out, and five of those were about him removing me and his kid from our lives here in Sugartown. A life we don’t want to be removed from.
Awkward
.

“So, you doing okay today?”

“Yep,” I say brusquely and then regret it. Whatever Coop and I used to be, it was never this awkward. He’s the most agreeable person I know. Much more agreeable than Jack.

“How are you dealing … you know, with the baby-daddy thing?”

“It’s a little hard to wrap my head around. But I meant what I said last night. I’m going to be present in this kid’s life, so if that means moving back to Sugartown, and working for Dave the publican for the rest of my days, I’ll do it.”

“And how exactly does that work into your plans for world domination?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“You told the band yet?”

“They know I’m dealing with some leftover stuff here.”

“Leftover?”
Now that just pisses me off.
“Well, I guess you got that much right.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.”

I nod, but I’m guessing the dour expression on my face tells him I’m not happy.

“I am fucking nervous as hell right now.”

“Why? I don’t bite unless you ask me to, remember?”

“Oh, I remember.” He grins, and then his smile falters, and he trains his eyes back on the road. I could hazard a guess at what he’s thinking; it doesn’t take a genius to figure he’s remembering what Jackson said last night about him teaching me everything I know.

We drive to the outskirts of town, and Coop pulls into a secluded spot near the swimming hole. He exits the car, and runs around to the other side in order to open my door. When he pulls me from the seat, I feel a tingle through my fingers where my skin is touching his, right down to my lady parts. I look away, because Coop was always good at knowing my looks, especially my, “I need to be fucked” face.

He pulls out a blanket that looks an awful lot like a comforter from a cheap motel, and a shopping bag full of goodies from the boot, and then we trek through the paddock to the river. He spreads out the blanket in the shade. Actually, he spreads out the blanket in a spot we once spent the night, drunk on beer, and buzzed from the pot he’d bought from Dave the publican. That was actually a pretty good memory. It was a short time before he left, before the immaculate conception, obviously, and we were so tanked that we’d laid out on a blanket in this exact same spot and drank, and fucked until we passed out, and woke the next day completely naked and wrapped in once another’s arms as a bunch of kids and their parents came traipsing through the paddock for an early morning swim. We’d laughed all the way back to the car, and then I’d jumped his bones and rode him until the gearstick in his truck left a golf-ball-sized bruise on my arse.