Just Once More (18 page)

A smile, and he was sitting down, reaching a hand out for the hair that had never made it back into its braid the night before, smoothing it back from her face. And looking at her like that was exactly what he wanted to do. Look.

Not just at her face, either. He gazed at her bare shoulders and breasts for a long moment, then asked, clearing his throat, “Uh…want your nightdress? Or are you just showing me some of my favorite things again? Is this a message? Because if it is, I’m happy to get it.”

“Both,” she said with a happy smile at his response. “Showing you, if they’re still your favorites. I hope they are. And yes, please.”

He got up, went to the chair where he’d obviously laid it when he’d got up this morning. He was dressed already, of course—navy blue shorts and a gray T-shirt, his feet bare. Country casual. Tauranga style.

He helped her into the white nightdress, sat down beside her again, and she settled back, picked up her mug, and took a sip of herbal tea. Smiled at him some more, and enjoyed the sight of him smiling back.

“Lazy again,” she said. “The kids up?”

“Yeh. Mum and Dad have got them, no worries. And lazy?” He laughed. “Nah. You earned it.”

“I did, didn’t I?” She pulled her hair back, preened a little under his appreciative gaze. “How do you manage to make a woman who’s almost nine months pregnant feel this sexy?”

“Maybe by thinking she is?” he suggested.

“Guess that’s it.” She was smiling like a fool, but that’s how she felt. “Better not share that one in my next interview, or everybody will
really
be jealous.”

He laughed. “Nah. Just clue them in on my more disgusting habits, make them think that fella they’re waking up next to is a bargain in comparison.”

“Oh, yeah. They’ll buy that.”

“But what I came up to ask you,” he said, “is this. Mako was thinking we should take you girls to see a movie this afternoon. Get the grandparents babysitting again, since they aren’t complaining so far.”

“Everybody?”

“Well, yeh. Anybody who wants to go. Another beach day would be too much for you and Kristen, we thought, and a movie might be a good distraction for the two of you anyway. Going to be a hot one again today, and the cinema’s got that lovely air con. I know that wouldn’t come amiss. Sound good? Or too much social time? Had enough?”

“No,” she said. “That does sound good. Better than staying at home. Distraction, like you said.” She tried to pull herself up a little more, a groan escaping despite herself.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Just my back,” she admitted. “A little achy this morning, that’s all.” A lot achy, in fact, but she hated complaining about physical ailments to Drew. How could you whine about your aching back to a man who’d played entire rugby games with broken bones? “You barely feel it at the time,” he’d tried to explain, but she hadn’t really taken his word for it.

“Roll over,” he said now.

“No, that’s OK. I’m fine.”

“Nah,” he said. “Least I can do. Who knows, that may have been from me. Not sure your back was helped by having a hundred-ten kilos of me on it last night.”

He was rolling her onto her side as he spoke, his hands finding the spot at the small of her back that always gave her trouble. The massage offered instant relief, and she sighed and relaxed into it.

“You weren’t on it,” she said as best she could against the sheet beneath her cheek, the pressure of his strong hands. “You were over it. And I liked that just fine.”

“I liked it too,” he promised, the satisfaction in his voice letting her know how much he meant it. “So what d’you think? Movie? Or you could stay here, have a rest, since we’ll have the wedding tomorrow. Yet another event. Mum and Dad could take the kids to the beach,” he added, forestalling her objections. “Nobody’d bat an eye, you know that.”

“No,” she said. “I’d like to go. As long as the movie doesn’t have too many explosions. Violence when I’m pregnant…I hate it. Must be some instinctive thing. Some maternal thing.”

He laughed, his hands keeping to their task. “No violence, except maybe to the boys’ sensibilities. Mako found a rom-com. Says he’ll enjoy it too, though that may be taking it a bit far.”

She laughed a little herself at that. “Maybe he’s in touch with his feminine side.”

“That’s what he says. That he gets enough violence on the paddock, doesn’t need it anywhere else in his life. But I have my doubts. I don’t think boys ever get tired of watching things blow up.”

“I know Jack doesn’t.” She was feeling a little sleepy again under his ministrations, her eyes closing, because that felt good.

“Or could be Mako just knows how to keep a Montgomery girl happy,” Drew said. “Though I warn you, I’m not quite willing to go that far. I’ll take you. But I won’t promise to enjoy it.”

“Someday, you know,” she told him with a sigh, “you’re going to get tired of being so perfect. I’m going to find out that there’s a Mr. Hyde somewhere, out doing all the things you don’t. Saying all the things you’ve never said to me. I know those things must be bottled up somewhere.”

“Nah,” he said, sounding, as always, so completely sure. “Or if I do, you’ve got a Mrs. Hyde somewhere yourself. Turnabout’s fair play, that’s all. I seem to remember somebody who was pretty good to me after I hung up my boots. For quite a long time, because it was a fair few months there before I came right.”

“You still weren’t…nasty,” she objected. “You didn’t do anything wrong. All you did was go quiet. And go fishing.”

“Yeh. Left you and Jack to do it every time, too, even though you were pregnant. And did you give me a hard time about that?”

“Of course not. It was tough. I knew it was tough.”

“You did. But most women would’ve pouted that I wasn’t spending more time with them, badgered me to talk about my feelings. I don’t like to talk about my feelings.”

“Huh.” She couldn’t help teasing a little. “You astonish me.”

He laughed. “Yeh. Guess that’s obvious.”

“Just because you don’t talk about them,” she said, “doesn’t mean you don’t have them. Or that I don’t see them.”

“Exactly,” he said with satisfaction. “How’s that, on the back? Better?”

She rolled, tested it out. “Much better.”

In fact, the achiness remained, a low, dull reminder, but there was no help for that. If Drew could play rugby with a broken jaw, she could get through a day with an aching back. That was life.

Hugh got out of the car with Josie, reached into the back seat for the plastic container of tuatua and pumpkin fritters she’d insisted on bringing along.

“They had everyone to dinner last night,” she’d told him, “and now they’re having us all again for lunch today? If Hannah’s willing to do it, I’m not coming empty-handed. Besides, give me something to do, and a use for some of these tuatua that the kids and I collected this morning.”

“I thought they were for tomorrow.”

“Yeh, well, we may have got a bit carried away.”

“Most women don’t spend the time before their weddings fishing,” he pointed out. “Or gathering clams. Not to mention cooking.”

“Maybe Maori women do, you thought of that? Could be you’ve just known the wrong women.”

“Well, I know that’s true. But I still doubt it, on the fishing.”

“Fishing was yesterday. Just doing my bit, staying involved, trying to keep myself from getting stage fright. Would you rather have a Bridezilla, throwing a wobbly because I gained two kilos and my dress doesn’t fit?”

“Nah. Keep fishing,” he said hastily. “And
did
you gain two kilos?”

“Of course not,” she said, because of course not. She never did. She couldn’t afford to. “But I’m glad to stay busy. Otherwise, who knows.”

So here they were in Hannah and Drew’s big kitchen, reheating Josie’s fritters while the rest of the group came and went, setting up their impromptu picnic on the tables outside before their movie date.

“Why do I get the feeling,” Hugh asked Josie in a low voice, flipping a luscious orange fritter in the hot pan, “that we’re the only two people here who didn’t get lucky last night? Some serious touching going on out there. I know that look.” A hand on a back, a quick kiss, a secret smile, even the occasional grope. For everybody but him, and he was the groom.

Josie let out a startled laugh. “Shh. Maybe they’re just relaxed.”

He snorted. “I’ve been that relaxed too. Pity I can hardly remember it.”

“You just wait,” she promised.

He sighed. “That’s what you said last night. Feel like a kid waiting for Christmas. Got that big, beautiful present sitting there, just taunting me. Wishing I could unwrap it right now. Knowing I have to wait, and so sure that I can’t. Wondering if I could get up in the night and sneak a peek. Maybe even take it out of the box and play with it a little.” He had his arm around her now, his lips at her neck.

She reached over, shoved her spatula under the smoking fritters in his pan, opened the wall oven, and slid them onto the platter. “Those are yours,” she informed him. “You’ll recognize them. They’re the black ones.” She transferred a couple more of the golden disks into both their pans. “You’re relieved of duty, mister. You’re too distracted to cook.”

Which was nothing but true, and had been for days, and it was only getting worse. And it wasn’t the wedding.

They’d gone for a walk after dinner the night before, when Josie had stood to do the washing-up after dinner and Hugh had risen to help her, and Josie’s mum had waved them off.

“Amelia and Charlie will do it,” she told them. “Take this boy up the bush track, Josie. I think he needs an outing.”

“Makes me sound like a dog,” he said.

Arama snorted a bit at that. “You saying you don’t want to go for a walk with Josie?”

“Nah,” he said with a grin. “I’m not saying that.”

“Then go on,” she said. “Get out of here and do it.”

They’d taken their walk up the mountain without talking much, the steepness of the rocky climb, the roughness of the track precluding conversation. It had been good to be alone with her all the same. It felt like ages, even though it had actually only been a few days. A few days of sleeping in the caravan with the kids, of her being in the house. Of preparations and family and friends and children. And not nearly enough Josie.

The shadows had been lengthening by the time they’d approached the house again. They could see, from their vantage point up above, the level blocks of orchards, the green of kiwifruit vines, the trees heavy with avocados and citrus. Josie’s parents’ farm, and all the other small farms and orchards around it, spreading in both directions. The rolling green of paddocks dotted with houses, barns, outbuildings, all of it sloping inevitably down to the little settlement of Katikati, barely visible below. The darkening mountains behind them, the sea beyond. Nothing but idyllic, a landscape straight from a postcard.

It was a sight to gladden the heart in the soft, glowing light of evening, but it hadn’t entirely gladdened Hugh’s. Because he could also see that Josie’s family was spread around outside the house. Her brother and sister-in-law on the front patio, most of the rest of them on the deck, enjoying the evening. Getting in his way.

“Come on,” he said before they got down to the drive. He opened the gate to the orchard blocks. “Last chance.”

“Are we being bad?” Josie asked, widening her eyes at him. She was getting into her new role, Hugh could tell. Instead of the constant vamping of Evil Dr. Eva, he was getting the enthusiasm of Anika Luatua, rural schoolteacher. He knew which one he preferred. And if Anika didn’t capture some hearts pretty quickly, Hugh would be gobsmacked, because she did the business for him. Although he didn’t mind her showing him Dr. Eva from time to time, either. A command performance. That worked too.

But just now, there was no Dr. Eva in sight. Instead, she had taken off, was running down the row, between the vines, looking back at him, laughing, then ducking out of sight, and he was laughing too and chasing her. Which wasn’t easy, because she fit beneath the interlocking mesh of vines, and he had to duck to avoid them. Wedding or no, if he damaged the vines, her dad would have something to say about it.

She led him up the next row, down another. Ducked across a few rows, so he had to search for her, and was halfway up when he finally caught her, slung an arm around her waist and reeled her in.

“Got you,” he told her, turning her in his arms. “Not getting away from me that easily. Now that I’ve caught you, I’m holding onto you, remember?”

Her spectacular chest was heaving with effort, her dark eyes sparkling with fun, and bloody hell, but she was beautiful. No makeup, shorts and T-shirt and boots, her long dark hair in a ponytail. Beautiful.

“Should’ve guessed I couldn’t run away from you,” she said, her gorgeous mouth curved in a laugh.

“My job, isn’t it,” he said huskily. “Chasing people down. Taking what I want.”

Her eyes widened with some more of that innocent alarm. “Should I be scared?”

He smiled. “Eventually. In about two days.” He led her over to their bench, sat on the rustic wooden seat, pulled her down beside him, and took her in his arms. “For right now, though,” he told her, “you should just get ready to be kissed pretty hard.”