The Bastard Takes a Wife (15 page)

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Authors: Lindy Dale

Tags: #romance, #chick lit, #funny, #humour, #rugby, #weddings, #holiday read, #la dale, #lindy dale

BOOK: The Bastard Takes a Wife
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“Ready?” Sam asked, his green eyes shifting
this way and that. No hello, no kiss, no nothing. Clearly, he was
still very cross.

“Yep.” I pulled the front door closed and
followed him down the steps to the car, knowing that at some point
we had to have a discussion but wondering when that moment would
be. Not in a Swan Taxi with Rambo in the front seat and Johnny in
the back, that was for sure.

Our problem was that we were both so
stubborn. Sam would never apologise for calling me a bitch and I
wasn’t going to back down on what I’d said about his mother. Then
there was the added tension caused by me being seen with Josh at
the foreshore. If only Sam had let me explain.

I climbed into the backseat of the taxi and
shuffled along the seat.

“Hi Rambo.” I tried to sound cheery. Inside I
felt like I was stuck on one of those rope bridges over a ravine
with rabid dogs on one side and man-eating bears on the other. No
matter what I did, someone was going to lose.

“Hey, Millie. You excited for your first live
Force
game?”

Sam slid into the back seat and slammed the
door. He maneuvered his body so that he was practically sitting on
the armrest of the door, putting as much space between us as he
could. I don’t know how he did that. The taxi wasn’t the widest of
vehicles.

“Um, yeah. You bet,” I replied, trying to
ignore the fact that Sam was staring at the headrest in front of
him like a kid whose fun had been taken away. Seriously, how could
I look forward to it now?

“Hey,” Johnny said, with a raise of his
eyebrows and a nod in Sam’s direction.

“Hey yourself,” I said.

“How’s it going?’

“Could be better.”

From my left side, where Sam sat, I heard the
sound of an aggravated grunt.

“Should be a good night,” Rambo said,
oblivious to the tension that was swimming around in the back seat.
“I’ve got five bucks on the
Force
to score first.”

“I took the Force to lose by twelve or more,”
Johnny replied. “Two hundred bucks coming my way in a couple of
hours.”

Next to me, Sam was suddenly alert. He leant
forward across my body, his eyes widening in disbelief. “You bet
against the
Force
?”

“Why not? The odds were good and they haven’t
got a hope against the
Stormers
. If I’d had my head on
straight, I would have put a couple of bucks on a try by the
Stormers
in the first minute. It’s bound to happen.”

Sam sunk back in his seat, looking more
dejected than ever. “But it’s the
Force
, man.”

“Yeah. And they suck. I think its time we
faced that and got a bit of therapy. Maybe they can include it in
the membership fees? We get fuck all for our money as it is,”
Johnny laughed.

“You can always switch to watching AFL,
fellas,” the taxi driver chimed in.

Sam grunted. “I’d rather watch Simmo pashing
that-slut-Courtney.”

Now there was a name that hadn’t featured in
the conversation lately. Thank heavens.

I sat listening to their banter as we drove.
Everyone seemed in good spirits and if I hadn’t been able to read
Sam’s body language so well, I’d have thought he was too. But his
body went as stiff as the goal posts at Rugby Park if I got close.
He wouldn’t touch me. He shirked his knee away from my hand. God,
he needed to get a grip. This was ridiculous.

It took about twenty minutes to get to the
ground through the traffic. We hopped out and Johnny paid the taxi
driver. Then he dug in his pockets and fished out three lanyards
for the VIP area, handing one to each of us.

“Awesome,” Rambo said, putting his around his
neck. “Prime seats, free booze and free food. A win would finish
the night off nicely.”

“Or a shag,” Johnny added. “Is Mel coming
tonight? She’s been looking like she’d like to get a leg over
lately.”

“I heard she’s got a new found love for a
certain part of your anatomy after the girlie night,” Rambo
said.

“All these years, I’ve been telling her and
she wouldn’t listen. Now she’s seen the evidence with her own eyes.
I am irresistible.”

Sam coughed into his hand. His eyes were
darker than a stormy sea. Then, without a word, he slipped his
lanyard over his head and walked towards the gates without me.

“Sam,” I called to his retreating back.

“Not now, Mill’.”

I looked at Johnny. He looked at me and
shrugged.

“At least he spoke to me,” I said. “That’s a
start.”

“He’s a bloody idiot.”

“What’s up?” Rambo asked, twigging something
was wrong.

“Nothing,” I replied and stalked off after
Sam. It was going to be a long night.

When we got to the Corporate Box, the girls
and Alex had already arrived. Like Sam, Sasha and Mel were wearing
blue
Western Force
jerseys and jeans. Kirby was too, but
hers was hot pink. God knows how she’d managed that. Alex had
dressed for the occasion and though she wasn’t wearing a team
shirt, she did have on a lovely royal blue fitted top. I smiled,
leaning in to give her a hug.

“I want to apologise,” she said as we drew
apart.

“What for?”

“I was rude to you the other day.”

“That’s okay. You were busy.”

“No, its not. I should have made time to
listen. You obviously wanted to vent.”

“Oh well. Whatever. Friends?”

“Forever,
Chica
.” She turned to face
the boys who were doing their best to empty the mini bar fridge
that came as part of the deal. “Now, which one of you lovely men
are going to get a girl a drink and explain how this game
works.”

I went to talk to the others.

“Hi girls.”

“Hey, Millie. Like, nice top. Is that from
Kookai?”

I nodded ‘yes.’ I still amazed me how Kirby
seemed to know every piece from every fashion label. She was a
walking department store of knowledge.

“Your top’s cute, too. I didn’t know the
Western Force
wore pink.”

Kirby waved me away with her hand, “You’re,
like totally, the funniest person I know. The
Force
doesn’t
wear pink. This is, like, the limited edition Breast Cancer jersey.
There’s only one hundred in the world.”

Of course.

I looked around the tiny space. “So, somebody
could have told me there was a dress code. I feel like a fish out
of water with you in your jerseys.”

“Sam was supposed to let you know,” Sasha
tutted.

“That’d be if he was talking to me, I
guess.”

“Oh God. What the fuck’s wrong now?” Mel
groaned. “Seriously, that boy needs a fucking lobotomy. He’ll be
lucky to get up the aisle at this rate.”

I couldn’t bear to talk about it or even
think about it. Besides, it sort of felt like I was being even more
of a bitch if I spoke about Sam when he was in the room. “Long
story. I’ll tell you later.”

But Mel would have none of it. She took Sam
by the arm, swivelling him to face her. “Why didn’t you tell Millie
to wear a jersey?”

I could have sworn I saw him flush.

“Er, um. I forgot?”

“No fucking excuse. Get down to the
Merchandise stand and get her one pronto. She feels like a
Nancy-no-friends and it’s your fault.”

With a roll of his eyes, Sam drank down the
rest of his beer and put the empty glass on the top of the mini
bar. His groan was louder than the man on the loud speaker. “Is
this really necessary?”

“Yes, it is. Now, scoot,” Mel replied,
pushing him towards the open door. “And make sure you get the right
size.”

“But I don’t know what size she is.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

After closing the door Mel turned back to us.
“Now, anything else we need to sort before we get down to having a
good night? Honestly, you people couldn’t organise your way out of
a fucking wet paper bag.”

“Thanks Mel,” I said.

“That’s what bridesmaids are for.”

Though the way she’d bossed Sam around and
he’d obeyed I couldn’t help but think that maybe she should be
marrying him. Only for a second.

About ten minutes later, I was sitting in my
seat on the balcony of the box, feet up on the seat in front, a
plate of food balancing on my knees when Sam returned. He was
carrying a large blue and white plastic bag, which he tossed in my
general direction, knocking the plate flying and slopping coleslaw
all over my new heels.

“Don’t say I never do anything for you,” he
muttered, taking the steps back into the Box in one stride.

Oh for Pete’s sake, what the hell was wrong
with him? I didn’t deserve to be treated this way. I flipped a few
bits of stray cabbage and carrot to the ground. I licked my finger
and rubbed a bit at the stain but that only made it bigger. It was
lucky Sam had bought me a new shirt. I was wearing my dinner over
this one. Enough was enough.

Swiping the bag from off the ground, I got up
and stepping over the broken pieces of china, headed in Sam’s
direction. He’d gone inside to the bar, where Rambo and Johnny were
deep in a conversation about whether or not the Hornets would win
the Premiership again that year.

I poked him in the arm. “I need to talk to
you. NOW.”

Sam turned and looked down at me. His face
was angry. How long was he going to keep this up for? I took his
elbow, pulling him outside the door of the box. Yes, the wall was
made of glass and everyone could see us, but at least they wouldn’t
be able to hear us. They might see me strangle him, though. I felt
like I wanted to.

“What the hell is your deal?” I yelled,
indicating my stained top and coleslaw-covered shoes.

“Sorry.”


Sorry
? That’s it? You’ve been
treating me like I don’t exist for the last three days and all you
can say is sorry? God, Sam. If you don’t want to get married tell
me now. I’ve had it up to here.” I flung my hand into the air. The
massive rock Sam had bought me caught him on the bridge of the
nose. Blood began to trickle from his nostril.

“Oh shit, oh shit. Fuck.”

That was the catalyst. Every tear that I’d
been trying valiantly to control over the past few weeks came
pouring out. It was like the drought had broken, filled the dam and
then overflowed. I couldn’t stop. I cried and cried and in front of
me, Sam just stood staring with blood running from his nose. His
eyes misted over and his lip was wobbling. Was he going to cry too?
That was all I needed. I fished in my bag for a tissue and handed
it to him. He scrunched it up and wiped the blood away before
tearing a piece off shoving it up his nose.

Taking a step forward Sam pulled me into his
arms. “Don’t cry, Mill’, please.”

“But it was an accident. I didn’t mean to hit
you. Oh shit.”


Shhh
. It’s okay.”

I felt the big lump of sadness begin to melt
as he held me. This was where I belonged. This was the reason why I
wanted to marry Sam. I could feel his love bolstering me up right
down to my salad-stained shoes.

“I didn’t do anything, I swear,” I whispered
into his chest.

Sam sighed and hugged me harder. It was like
he didn’t want to let me go. “I s’pose I knew that. I got caught up
in everything, that’s all. We had a fight and the first thing you
did was go racing to Josh. I was so jealous, I wanted to punch him
in the head. And when Amanda said you were ‘pashing in public like
a couple of bogans,’ I didn’t know what to believe.”

It must’ve taken her approximately three
seconds to get on to the phone and let Sam know she’d seen me.
Cow.

“Charming.”

“You’ve got to admit, it’s not the first
time. I think I had a bit of a right to be concerned.”

“Did she also tell you I had the children
with me? Seriously? You think I’d be carrying on some type of
affair with Paige watching? It’d be like taking out an ad in
The
West Australian
.”

I felt Sam’s fingers relaxing into my back.
He was beginning to come round, to understand that I wasn’t the
villain in this movie.

“She didn’t.”

I could have taken that further, but decided
to let it rest. Sam’s family’s distaste for me was something we’d
have to tackle later. Right now, I need to convince him I wasn’t
shagging Josh on the side.

“Look, I needed to vent,” I explained.
“Everyone was busy. Josh was the only person left. Either him or
Johnny and I sort of got the feeling you’d be a lot angrier if it
was him. All I wanted was someone to talk to.”

“So, apart from that massive cake you
ordered, what else’s wrong?”

“This whole wedding is a disaster. It’s
nothing like we wanted. That got lost after your mother invited
Today Tonight to follow me round for a day like I’m Princess
Mary.”

Sam gave a small grin. He seemed to soften,
as if hearing about my problems out loud was making him understand
what it had been like for me. He rubbed my back. “That was a bit
over the top.”

“You reckon? This wedding isn’t fun, Sam. I
wanted it to be a time for us to remember because we enjoyed it,
not because we were fighting every second. The pressure is making
me sick and I never get sick.”

Sam frowned.

“What Amanda saw was me kissing Josh’s cheek,
like I’ve done a million times. We have a history. I’ve known him
since I was four but I don’t want to marry him. I want to marry
you. You know that.”

“I s’pose so.”

“Please don’t make more of this than there
has to be,” I said, snuggling against him.

“I was being a bit stupid.”

“And about the cake…. I’m sorry.”

“I deserved it. I haven’t been much help,
have I?”

Wow, who was this humble creature? It was
like he was listening to what I was saying. For the first time in
months, I was more important than Nathan Sharpe’s upcoming farewell
match. I stared past the swelling on his nose and up into his eyes.
He was being so sweet.

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