Outback Sisters (20 page)

As Logan got to work, Frankie located the equipment she needed. What a stroke of luck that the person Logan had managed to sweet-talk into lending them her kitchen happened to have a whiz-bang Kenwood mixer and a lot of the other tools they would need. The manager had snuck off to her room when they'd arrived, promising to make herself scarce but telling them to call on her if they couldn't find anything or required assistance. Frankie felt bad about putting the nice woman out, but drastic times called for drastic measures and every time she thought about the sight of the wrecked cake in the back of her car, she remembered how drastic this situation was.

She did not want to be the one to ruin Adam and Stella's wedding day.

‘Who taught you to cook?' Logan asked as she began measuring out her ingredients.

‘No-one,' she said, embracing his attempt at small talk. ‘I think I probably taught myself out of necessity. Apparently Dad was a good cook, but Mum was dismal and when Dad left, I got sick of her boring dinners. She didn't have much imagination in the kitchen, and to give her some due, it's not easy coming up with interesting food for two kids after you've spent the day working—ask Simone. Before I took over, dinner at our place mostly alternated between spaghetti bolognaise with Dolmio's sauce, sausages and instant mashed potatoes, and shepherd's pie, also with instant mash.'

Logan laughed and screwed up his nose. ‘What did you cook instead?'

‘Oh, everything. I used to experiment with the few ingredients Mum kept in the cupboard and often what I created wasn't half bad. By the time I was ten, I was doing most of the cooking. Mum used to give Simone her bank card and we'd do the food shopping on our own. What about you? How'd you learn?'

‘My mum was the opposite of yours,' Logan said, a wistful smile crossing his face. ‘She loved cooking and every meal was different and magnificent. I don't remember Dad ever making so much as a piece of toast—and while Angus loved being Dad's right-hand man on the farm, I'd often stay at home with Mum and help make dinner. Much to Dad's disgust, I asked for a recipe book for my tenth birthday, but after Mum died I think he was grateful that he didn't have to worry about putting meals on the table as well as everything else.'

‘I can't imagine losing my mum,' Frankie confessed, a chill washing over her at the thought. ‘How old were you?'

‘I was seventeen. Doing my year twelve exams. She was driving to Perth to take me out to celebrate when a truck hit her head on, on the Brand Highway.'

Frankie couldn't help but gasp at the brutal image. Although she knew Logan's parents were both dead, Simone had never told her the details.

He nodded and his voice cracked a little as he spoke. ‘Only consolation is she would have died on impact.'

Frankie's heart went out to him. Although he was speaking about something that happened a long time ago, the expression on his face told her the pain was just as strong as it would have been that day. She wished she could say something, do something to comfort him, but no words seemed right. ‘I bet it's not much consolation. I don't know how I'd cope if something like that happened.'

Logan shrugged. ‘It wasn't easy. I took a few years off studying and hung about at home, helping Dad and Angus with the farm and my little sister. But life goes on, well, for most of us. Dad couldn't cope. He took his own life a few years later.'

‘No!' She couldn't keep the shock from her voice. ‘I knew you and Angus raised your sister but I didn't know—'

‘He hung himself in the shearing shed,' Logan confessed, glancing down at the benchtop.

‘That's awful,' she whispered, her words sounding futile even to her own ears. Silence hung between them a few long moments and then Logan turned his head and met her gaze.

‘I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm telling you this. As if today isn't stressful enough.'

Despite the topic of conversation, the way he looked at her took her breath away. Sensations she knew she shouldn't be feeling flooded through her body and at that moment she didn't care about the cake, she only wished Logan would keep looking at her that way, keep opening up his heart.

It wasn't her right to wish this—not when he was here in Kalbarri with her sister—but she couldn't help her feelings, no matter how much she knew they were wrong. And the more time she spent in his company, the worse they got. ‘It's fine,' she said, struggling to breathe steadily as she gestured to the mess already forming on the bench. ‘We've got hours ahead of us. Gotta keep each other awake somehow.'

His solemn expression transformed into a light one again and he nodded. ‘Damn straight. By tomorrow morning we'll have a magnificent cake—or rather, cakes—and I shall know all of your deepest, darkest secrets.'

She shivered at the thought. ‘I don't really have any,' she lied, looking away.

‘I'll be the judge of that,' Logan said. ‘What was the name of your first boyfriend?'

‘Adam,' she told him, with a half chuckle.

‘Ha! You mean
this
Adam?'

‘Yep. At least I wanted him to be my boyfriend, but everyone else told me my cousin couldn't be my boyfriend. It broke my heart.'

She looked up at the expression on his face and smiled as well. ‘It's okay, you're allowed to laugh. From a very early age, I've had a habit of falling for Mr Wrong.'

Angus knew he shouldn't be having this much fun with his brother's girlfriend—not while Logan was slaving away with Frankie fashioning a replacement wedding cake—but he couldn't help himself. Following dinner, Adam's mum Esther had whisked Heidi off to bed and Simone's mum, stepdad and daughters had retreated to their apartment to watch a movie. The bride, groom and their bridal party had chosen to stay on and enjoy a few more drinks. It had been a long time since he'd last sat up with a bunch of adults like this—had a meal and enjoyed the conversation following.

Maybe this was what his life would have been like if his parents hadn't died, if he hadn't ended up as Olivia's guardian, if he and Sarah hadn't suffered their own tragic loss. Things might have been very, very different. He didn't begrudge the sacrifices he'd made for Olivia. To be honest, most of the time he didn't think he missed having a social life, but sitting here with Simone made him wonder if maybe it was time to make some changes.

‘Want a top-up?' Simone asked as she pushed back her chair and gestured at his empty bottle.

‘Sure, but it's my shout,' he said, standing and reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

She hit him with her potent smile. ‘I'm not going to argue with that.'

‘Who else wants another one?' Angus asked the rest of their party.

‘Actually I think I'll call it a night,' said Faith, who Simone had told him wasn't drinking because she was pregnant.

‘Are you okay?' asked her boyfriend, Monty, reaching over to grab her hand, concern in his tone and on his face. Angus remembered feeling anxious and protective when Sarah was expecting, but he pushed that thought aside.

Faith smiled back at Monty. ‘I'm fine, just tired. I need my beauty sleep for tomorrow.'

‘There's nothing like pregnancy fatigue,' Simone said and Stella nodded her agreement. Angus remembered that too; Sarah had slept and slept and slept.

The others declined another drink and after bidding Faith and Monty goodnight, he headed over to the bar to get their drinks.

‘We're just about to close up,' the barman said, as he placed a bottle of beer and another glass of wine on the bar.

‘No worries,' Angus said, handing over his money. When he returned to the table he found that Ruby and Drew, and Stella and Adam were also leaving.

Goodnights were exchanged and before he knew it he was all alone with Simone, except for the few staff members wiping and setting tables for the breakfast service.

She glanced around and then looked up at him. ‘Do you get the feeling we're not wanted here anymore?'

‘Perhaps.'

‘Pity. I was enjoying myself and I didn't want to rush this.' She picked up the wine glass he'd just put in front of her and twirled it between her two fingers. ‘Do you want to go watch TV or something in my and Frankie's apartment?'

No
, his subconscious told him firmly.
Not a good idea
. But he'd had such an enjoyable night and it was still early; he didn't want it to end just yet. Besides, it wasn't like she was offering anything sinister. Just a little bit of TV.

‘Okay,' he said, telling himself that he'd sit with her while he finished his beer and then he'd get an early night, maybe stop in on Logan and Frankie and see how the cake making was going.

Without another word, they stood and Angus saw the relieved expressions on the resort staff's faces as he held the door open for Simone.

‘Thanks for keeping me company tonight,' she said in a near whisper as they walked quietly down the row of townhouses to her accommodation. Her shoulder was about an inch from his and he'd never felt more aware of another person—at least not for as long as he could remember.

Although it wasn't even eleven o'clock yet, the resort was deserted, everyone already barricaded in their rooms, and Angus felt like a criminal trespassing on someone else's land. Palm trees swished gently in the wind and the beer bottle felt cold in his hand as Simone stopped and fumbled in her pocket for her key.

Ignoring the voice of caution inside his head, he followed her into the apartment as she flicked on the lights. ‘Well, here we are,' she said, turning to look at him and then gesturing to the one small couch that occupied the lounge room. ‘Make yourself at home.'

‘I wonder how Logan and Frankie are doing?' he asked, forcing himself to focus on something other than how amazing Simone looked, standing before him in a flowing hippy-type skirt and a figure-hugging black crochet top. Forcing himself to remember why exactly they were here.

She kicked off her shoes and flopped back onto the couch. ‘They'll be fine. If anyone can fix this cake mess, they can. Are you gonna sit?'

In absence of any other chairs, Angus perched on the edge of the couch beside her and took a long drag on his beer. He felt crazily like a young bloke on his first date, which was pathetic, because he wasn't young and this wasn't any kind of date. Simone would probably laugh or feel very uncomfortable if she was aware of some of the thoughts he was trying to suppress.

She leaned forward to retrieve the television remote from the coffee table and her top rode up slightly in the process, giving him a quick glimpse of smooth skin. He sucked in a breath and took another gulp of his beer. Within seconds the television flashed to life and she began to flick through the channels, giving him a moment to think cool thoughts.

‘The usual Friday night crap,' she said, settling on one of the Harry Potter movies. ‘You seen this before?'

He nodded. ‘Liv went through a stage where she was obsessed with the books and the movies. Do your girls like them?'

She leaned back against the couch and pursed her lips a moment. ‘I think Grace has read some of them. Frankie gave the whole set to the girls for Christmas one year.'

Angus couldn't help thinking how much Frankie and Logan had in common, including a love of books and culinary talents; far more, it seemed, than Logan and Simone had in common.

‘If Harriet's read them,' Simone added, ‘I'd be the last person she'd tell.'

Although her tone told him she was trying to make light of this, he saw the hurt in her eyes as she spoke about her older daughter and he desperately wanted to say something to make her smile again. ‘Sounds like she's at least read The Teenager's Guide to Making Their Parents Crazy.'

‘Hah, yes. I reckon she wrote the book.' Simone nodded as she lifted her glass to her lips. He tried not to focus on the colour or plushness of them as they closed around the rim. What the hell was he doing here?

As Simone drank, so did he, downing the last dregs of his beer. He placed the empty bottle down on the coffee table. ‘I suppose I'd better head off,' he said, not making a move to get up.

‘Really?' Simone frowned at him. ‘Don't leave me all alone with my mother guilt. This weekend was supposed to be fun. Let's have some fun!'

‘What do you suggest?' he asked, his chest tightening.

She shrugged one shoulder and her jumper slipped slightly, exposing another glimpse of skin. ‘We could play a board game … if we had any. Do you have any cards on you? I'll whip your butt at poker.'

He made a show of patting his pockets. ‘Damn, I think I left them at home.'

She sighed and he racked his brain for a suggestion, wanting to please her more than anything.

‘I know,' she said suddenly, grabbing the remote again and flicking through to a music station. ‘Let's dance.'

He raised an eyebrow as she leaped to her feet and pushed the coffee table over to the edge of the room. Again, he swallowed as he copped an eyeful of pert butt and smooth naked skin as her top shifted. ‘Dance?' She had to be kidding. ‘I'm not sure I've had enough to drink.'

‘Don't be a spoilsport.' She reached over and grabbed his hand, tugging him to his feet. ‘I love dancing. It's good exercise. Consider it practice for tomorrow night.'

‘Logan never mentioned anything about dancing,' Angus said, his breath hitching in his throat at the realisation of how close he was to this stunning woman, at the feel of her soft hand in his work-roughened one.

She laughed, rolled her eyes and dropped his hand. ‘So you
are
grumpy. Logan said you were, but I refused to believe it. You seemed quite nice to me.'

It was the sweetest compliment anyone had paid him in a long while and as she lifted her arms above her head and started to move her body in time with the music, he found himself trying to do the same. It was a boppy song and he wasn't coordinated at the best of times, and it was hard not to look like a total fool when all he could think about was how damn sexy she was. That long skirt wafted around her feet as she swished her hips from side to side and his mouth went dry. He tried to avert his gaze, but all his eyes wanted to do was zone in on her breasts and the cleavage all too visible in her low-cut top.