Husband Stay (Husband #2) (6 page)

Her smile grew
sad. “Is that why you settled on Danny?” She frowned. “I know your parents
wanted little brown babies, but I thought you wanted him too.”

I shrugged,
feeling distanced from the whole thing now. Alcohol offered such a comforting
buffer. “I did love him. He would have been a good daddy.”

“But not a hot
lover.” It wasn’t a question.

I shook my head. “He…I
wasn’t satisfied.”

“Regularly?” Her
voice was gentle, as if she was scared her question would spook me.

“Yes.”
All the
time.
“But I didn’t miss out. I mean, I know how to…”

“I’m guessing you
didn’t do that in front of him.”

Despite the
alcohol haze I could feel my cheeks heating up. “
No.
”

“So you waited
until you were alone.”

“Yes.” I lurched
to my feet. “And that’s all I can talk about now. I need to sleep.”

She stood with me.
“Sure honey.” And I was surprised by how easily she let me off the hook. But I
was grateful when she took me to the guest room she’d made up with fresh sheets
and towels.

I had my own
bathroom, which was great, and when I said, “I didn’t sleep last night,” she
tisked
in a motherly fashion and insisted on helping me get into pajamas, even though
it was two in the afternoon. Then she put my toiletries out for me while I went
off and peed, and when I came back into the bathroom she handed me a loaded
toothbrush.

“Have a nap,” she
instructed. “But don’t worry if you sleep through dinner. I’ll put leftovers in
the fridge for you. Grab them anytime. Finn and I are at the other end of the
bungalow, so we won’t hear you.”

I spat toothpaste into
the sink. “You’re a good friend, Jill.” Unfortunately, I was sliding toward
melancholy. I really needed to be unconscious.

She shook her head.
“I wasn’t around when you found out about Danny’s vasectomy. I should have
been.”

I opened my mouth
to argue that I hadn’t told anyone, but she cut over me.

“I’m not letting
you cope with this alone.” She grabbed both my shoulders and I smiled a foamy toothpaste
smile at her. “Between the two of us we’ll work this out, okay?”

I nodded.

“I know I usually
solve problems by jumping off the cliff and working out what to do on the way
down.” She frowned. “So if it was me I’d jump into bed with Jack and see where
it led. That isn’t going to suit you. I get that. But there will be other
options.”

I nodded at her
mid-afternoon wisdom, far too sleepy to have any response of my own.

So I rinsed and
spat while Jill said, “Have a siesta and try to relax. Tomorrow we’ll be with
Fritha, and you know how exhausting she is. I can’t imagine how hyped up she’ll
be at the launch. She’s waited a million years to run a teashop.”

I wiped my mouth
on my towel and said, “Okay. And let’s not rehash this? It is what it is.
Unless you can think of something brilliant, let’s not belabor it?”

She nodded, then
led me to the lovely soft guest bed with its crisp white sheets and
feather-light quilt. When she’d tucked me in and kissed my cheek I closed my
eyes, not even noticing the sound of the door as she left. My brain was locked
onto the soothing
whoosh
of the Pacific Ocean breaking onto the sand right
outside the bungalow. My arm was starting to ache but I wasn’t taking
painkillers on top of alcohol, so I drifted into slumber instead.

“Oh my god, is that
Noah Steele?” I stood blinking as the hunky Hollywood star elbowed his way good
naturedly through
Bohemian Brew’s
crowd of opening night attendees on
his way to the bar, which on Monday would be returned to a cake counter.

I’ll be singing
in front of Noah Steele!

Jill shrugged
nonchalantly, but I could see the smirk she was trying to hide. “Finn consults
for one of his companies, so he sent him an invitation. Noah’s got a cattle
property around here, but I didn’t think he’d come.”

I gazed adoringly
at the actor’s broad back until he was lost in the crowd. I’d never sung in
front of a celebrity before. Around us, the other attendees wore suits and
cocktail frocks, looking out of place amid the Moroccan décor in shades of pink
and salmon and olive with plush cushioned booths.

Middle Eastern
rugs and wall hangings in colors of jewels and spices complimented the dark
wooden furniture and elegant wall sconces. Jill must have been thrilled that
her investment looked so gorgeous, but I wasn’t letting her get away with
sounding pretentious.

“Listen to you,
all blasé calling him Noah. That’s Mr. Steele to you, or have you met him
before?”

She laughed and
shook her head, her glossy brown hair sliding over the shoulders of her
charcoal silk trench coat. Coupled with a pair of killer red heels and Scarlet
Johansson red lips, she looked like she belonged at a Hollywood premiere.

In sharp
comparison, my favorite Punjabi suit—an apple green tunic with gold flecks over
matching loose pants with narrow ankles—was topped with a gold scarf to hide my
cast, and looked more of a fit for a hippy town like Belandera, especially with
my long dark hair pulled into a side ponytail that Jill had fussed over.

She was still
grinning when she said, “Pretty bloody exciting having him here. Louella will
be livid that she missed it. Plus, it will get us some national press.” The
mention of
us
reminded me that while
Bohemian Brew
was Fritha’s
brainchild, it had been Jill’s money funding it, courtesy of her stint as a
husband sitter, being paid by wives to sleep with their husbands.

I knew Finn had
gotten over his jealousy about that, but I couldn’t help suspecting he might
wonder how he compares. I certainly knew that if I got into a sexual situation
again, I’d be comparing Danny’s lovemaking.

Not that I wanted
to. Oh no. I was more than pleased to forget all about sexy Jack whoever he was,
and his stunning chest. Far easier to look after my own needs while fantasizing
about unreachable hunks like Noah Steele, who Jill was still ogling. It threw
me back twenty years to when we’d both had crushes on him.

I couldn’t help
asking, “Can we meet him?” Jill was right. Louella would be furious that her
inconvenient bout of the flu had sidelined her. It wasn’t often that I had the
celebrity experience and not her.

“Ab-so-bloody-lutely,”
Jill declared, and grabbed my good hand. “He can sign your cast.” She dragged
me toward him and I felt my cheeks flush with excitement, but Fritha got to him
first, all stick-insect arms, freckles and crazy red curls.

“Noah!” she
squealed, as if they were long lost pals.

He turned from
talking to Finn and faced her as she launched herself into his arms. Jill and I
both propped, watching as he swirled her around, laughing, and landed her back
on her bare feet, her uniform of a bright orange sundress still swirling for a
second as she righted herself.

We held back as
they chatted and Fritha called one of her waitresses over, then she showed Noah
to a booth she’d apparently set aside for celebrities, and which already
contained some local politicians and a sculptor. She finally noticed us waiting
and waved us over, introducing us and embarrassing me horrendously by telling Noah
I was the next big thing.

I stared at her,
open-mouthed, thinking she was the most audacious creature I’d ever met. But he
just grinned back and looked me up and down, making me wish—yet again—that I’d
been wearing something more glamorous.

“She’s Australia’s
Indian Diva,” Fritha added proudly.

I loved her, but
really? I wanted to slap a hand over that mouth.

“Is she now?” Noah
asked, with that larrikin smile of his, leaning back in his seat. “Is she
singing today?”

Fritha grabbed my
good arm. “Right now in fact. Maybe you two can do a duet.”

I smiled at her
graciously but the bottom was falling out of my stomach.
A duet with Noah
Steele?

“What’s she
singing?” he asked.

I opened my mouth
to rattle off the laid-back jazz numbers Jill had asked for, but Fritha interrupted
by waving an airy hand. “Renee Geyer covers.”

What the hell?

Noah leant
forward, suddenly intent. “I love Renee Geyer.”

He’d been a child
of the seventies growing up in Sydney. Had he seen her perform live? Had Fritha
known that? I’d grown up singing along to Renee Geyer albums because she was my
mother’s favorite—Fritha knew that—but I hadn’t practiced any of those numbers
lately. And to be singing them in front of Noah Steele… The fact that he loved
Renee Geyer added to the pressure. What if I didn’t do her songs justice?

I could feel
Jill’s reassuring hand on my back, so I swallowed down apprehension and turned
to Fritha. “Let’s get started.”

Jill introduced
herself to Noah as I turned away, but I was busy concentrating on following
Fritha through the chattering crowd who were sipping tea, coffee and cocktails.
The front corner of the huge shop had a stage and a microphone for the speeches,
which I’d already checked out and done a sound check on.

When we arrived
there, she turned to face me. “How bloody exciting is this?”

I gripped her
shoulder with my good hand to get her attention and said, “It will be thrilling
if you have any sort of backing music for these numbers.” I gave her a
meaningful glance.

Unfortunately for
me, her gaze drifted off. “Right...”

I let my fingers
bite into her shoulder. “Fritha, I love you. You know that. But I’m not singing
Renee Geyer into a silent room. I’m not Barbara Streisand.”

“I’ll get Finn.”

I closed my eyes in
defeat. Why on earth would Finn have backing music? But instead of panicking, I
practiced slow breathing while I waited for her to come back.

Finn grinned at
me. “Noah Steele.”

I nodded. “Bloody
hell.”

“So what do you
need?”

“Instrumental
soundtracks to Renee Geyer songs.”

He nodded and
pulled out his phone. I watched in amazement as he found what I was looking for
on iTunes, the very album my mother had loved as a teenager. I’d heard it so
often I knew every word by heart. He picked the instrumental selection and
plugged his phone into the sound system. “Ready when you are.”

It had taken
ninety seconds.

Fritha winked at
me. “Sister Carmel would approve.”

The nun who’d
taught us in high school had tried to drum into us to
marry a practical man.
At the time it had sounded like odd advice from a spinster, but I could
certainly appreciate it now.

“Thank you Finn,”
I said. A huge understatement.

“Just give me a
nod and I’ll set the album to play.”

Fritha grabbed the
microphone and
shushed
everyone, then she told them that Noah had
requested some songs and I was obliging. That got a huge round of applause, but
before I was ready, the room was silent and I was hearing the opening bars of
It’s
a Man’s, Man’s World
.

I licked my lips
and swallowed, and somehow, miraculously, my nerves slid away. Unlike my
debacle at the club, this time I soared. I could literally feel myself lift
inside as the lyrics poured through me of love and loss and vulnerability.

When I’d been
married to Danny, it
had
been a man’s world—his world. We’d done
everything the way he wanted it. My life was different now, and as I negotiated
the highs and lows of the song, I poured all my confusion and grief into it. It
was meant to be a bitter song, but I wasn’t bitter at Danny. I was just…lost.

So I sang that,
and when the final note fell, the shop broke into pandemonium. I could see Noah
at the back,
whooping
and whistling as everyone else applauded, and even
Finn was gazing at me in shock, so captivated that he didn’t hold the next song
back. As the opening bars swelled, Fritha was forced to whistle with two
fingers in her mouth to quieten the room.

While I sang, Noah
pushed his way to a front table, which the patrons gladly shared, and when I
reached my favorite song on the album,
Since I fell for you,
he joined
me on stage and we sang with his arm around my waist.

I could see people
recording it on their phones, Jill among them. But I was caught in the moment,
living my own personal fantasy of singing lyrics that touched me, to an
audience who were moved by them.

When the album
finished, I was so high I could have flown home to Sydney without a plane.
People were asking me what name I sang under because they couldn’t find my
albums on iTunes, and Noah made a point of hugging his
Beautiful Indian Diva
as he left.

Sometime later
Jill pulled me away from well-wishers to give me back my silver purse with its
long shoulder strap. I slung over my head and across my chest so it would be
lost in the folds of my scarf, then she put a daiquiri into my hand and we both
grinned like loons.

“Bloody hell,” she
said, and we grinned some more. Then she nodded toward Finn. “Noah’s sending Finn
the contact details of an agent he wants you to ring. An agent!”

I blinked in
shock, but instead of feeling even more elated, that brought me back to earth.
Did I want an agent? The girls had always expected me to be a star, but I’d
never wanted that. I’d wanted babies with Danny and an occasional stint at the
club. With one dream lost, was another about to come true?

“Bloody hell,” I
repeated, because I didn’t know what else to say.

“I know. Right?”

Fritha came and
threw a stick-insect arm around both of us for a group hug. Then she winked at
me. “And just when you thought life didn’t get any better, I’ve got a gorgeous
specimen at the bar asking if he can talk to you.”

Jill’s eyes lit
up. “Want me to scope him out first? Check him for facial hair?”

Fritha shook her
head. “Smooth as a baby’s bottom. And chiseled.”

I felt a flicker
of nerves—I hadn’t expected this sort of attention—but I raised an eyebrow as
though I was interested. “Chiseled. Nice.”

Jill grabbed my
good arm. “Let me be your wingman. I’ll be discreet.”

Fritha snorted at
the very idea, then she turned to me. “His name is Jack. He said—”

“
Jack?
”
Jill practically shouted.

Fritha shook her
head in disgust. “Very discreet,” but I was too busy searching the crowd to pay
attention to her, and in the end he was easy to spot even though he was behind
me because he was almost a head taller than anyone else. And thankfully not
looking my way.

Sweet Shiva, the
moment I saw him I felt weak. It was a complete cliché, but when he smiled
politely at someone edging past him and I saw those sexy crows’ feet beside his
eyes, coupled with the white teeth and his amazing span of shoulders in a suit—a
suit! I just wanted to puddle, right there.

Jill had an arm
around me in an instant. “Breathe,” she instructed quietly, leaning in close.
“He can’t see you here. We can go if you want.”

“What?” Fritha
pushed between us as I turned back to face them. “He seems nice.”

“He is nice,” I
said softly.

Jill shook her
head. “You told me—”

I looked into her
eyes at close range. “I lied. He wasn’t drunk. I just didn’t want you to
match-make. I’m not ready.”

“Okay.” She
nodded, clearly surprised, but calm about my deceit. “So he’s nice. But you
still have options. Do you want to meet him now, or—”

“Angela?”

She stopped
talking to look up at someone behind me, and despite the fact that his voice
wasn’t as gravelly as it had been in the hospital, I recognized the deep
drawling tone, and for the first time I registered that it sounded like home.

The nurse had told
me he was from the outback, but I’d been so prejudiced against him, I hadn’t
wanted to acknowledge the fact that we were kindred. We both came from country
towns. We both spoke with that unmistakable country Queensland drawl.

Jill’s expression
went carefully blank as she said, “Jack, I presume,” and she held out her hand.
“I’m Jill.” She smiled at the irony as they exchanged a brief handshake. Then
she met my gaze. “I’ll be at the bar if you need me.”

“Sure.”

My voice sounded
small and frightened. Which was crazy. When I’d stopped singing, I’d been so
full of life that I’d felt like I was somehow bigger than the room. Was I that
terrified of lust?