Summer Fling (16 page)

“Hey, Mum.” She nodded to Stella, who
looked oddly apprehensive. “What’s up?”

“I’ve got something to tell you.” Nina
could barely contain her excitement.

“What is it?”

Nina pressed her palms together in front of
her mouth for a moment and then burst forth with, “I’m getting married!”

Stella met Chloe’s stare and shrugged.

“Right.” Chloe spoke flatly. “And who’s the
lucky guy this week?”

There were exactly ten seconds of silence,
during which all the color drained from Nina’s face. Chloe stomped on the guilt
that swept over her. She was doing her mother a favor.

“That was bitchy,” Nina said in a low
voice.

“True, though.” Chloe dropped her bag and
faced her mother with hands on hips. “Who was it last week? Ben? Ken?”

“I split up with Dan three months ago. And
I’d been seeing him for six months.”

“Ooh. Must be a record.” Chloe couldn’t stop
the words spilling out. She was being nasty, but maybe if she hurt someone
else, she might not feel her own pain so much. “How long have you known this
one?”

Nina studied her daughter, her face
unusually calm. “Aren’t you even going to ask his name?”

“Is there any point? I gave up learning
them years ago.”

“I see.” Nina turned and picked up her bag.
“You’ve screwed up your life, and it’s easier to criticize me than try and sort
out your own problems.”

“I didn’t screw up my life,” Chloe said
furiously, “you did. You screwed me up so badly, I stayed with the same crappy
boyfriend for years because I was terrified if I didn’t, I’d end up like you.”

Stella got to her feet and stood next to
Chloe, and touched her arm cautiously. “Chloe, careful, you’ll regret this
later.”

Chloe shook her off. “No, I should have
said this years ago.” She turned to her mother, furious. “I’ve been terrified
of taking risks because of what you were like growing up. I thought if I played
it safe, it would mean I wouldn’t end up like you, with a different guy in my
bed every five minutes.” Nina’s face had turned white, but Chloe ploughed on
relentless. “I’ve had to put up with it for years, and you have the cheek to
call me bitchy. What did you think I’d say when you told me you were getting
married? ‘Oh, good luck Mum! Can I be bridesmaid?’ How many times have you told
me ‘this is the one’?”

“Sam’s different.” Nina stuffed her hands
in the pockets of her jeans. “He makes me happy.”

“Well hoo-fucking-rah. About time something
did. Lord knows your daughter couldn’t.” She clenched her fists so tight, her
nails dug into her palms. “I hope you’ll both be very happy, I really do. But
don’t come crying to me when it all goes wrong. I’ve comforted you through too
many break ups to go through it all again.”

They stared at each other for an eternity,
Stella to one side almost hopping from foot to foot in agitation.

Then Nina turned and walked out. The door
crashed shut behind her.

Chloe sank onto the sofa and burst into
tears.

Stella let her cry for ten minutes, holding
her and stroking her arms. When Chloe’s tears finally abated, Stella went into
the kitchen, poured them both a glass of brandy, and brought it back, pushing
it into Chloe’s hand. “Take a sip, honey. It’ll take some of the shock away.”

Chloe swallowed a mouthful and coughed as
it seared to her stomach. “Damn, that’s good.” She had another sip and then
leaned her head on the back of the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. “Shit.”

“Shit indeed, missy.”

“I shouldn’t have said all that.”

Stella sighed. “Probably not. Although
maybe it needed saying, you know? You’ve held it in for twenty-five years.
Perhaps she needed to hear it.”

Chloe bit her lip. “I just couldn’t bear
it. I’ve heard it so many times, ‘this is the one, Chloe, this one’s forever...’
Can’t she hear herself?”

“Maybe each time she believes it.”

Chloe closed her eyes. That was why she shouldn’t
have slept with Garth. She
had
to keep away from him. She couldn’t start
thinking what a wonderful thing they had when she’d only met him three times.
It was laughable now that she looked at it with distance between them. They
didn’t know the first thing about each other. Well, that wasn’t quite true—she
knew he’d lost his wife, and that it still cut him up inside. She didn’t want
to be a temporary replacement for his one true love. Not when her feelings for
him were no doubt stronger than his for her.

Her eyes stung, and she wiped them with her
free hand.

“What happened?” said Stella gently. “Did
you have a row with Garth?”

“Not really. We went back to his place.”
She rubbed her nose. “It was amazing.”

“The sex?”

“No. The house.” They both started
giggling.

Chloe sighed. “Okay, and the sex. He’s
fantastic, Stel, funny, warm, great in bed... But he’s a tortured soul.” She
took a deep breath and told Stella about Garth’s past, his captivity, and what
had happened to his wife.

“Jesus,” said Stella afterward. “Nick
Stewart?”

“I know. And you know something—I’m
convinced
Garth had something to do with the burglary on Nick’s house.”

“Really?”

“To get him away from the party. It must
have killed him to see the guy who took his wife and then was responsible for
her death also interested in me.” She sighed heavily. “He assured me he didn’t
want me just because Nick wanted me, but I’m still not sure. Obviously he
misses his wife, and I don’t want to be used as a weapon to get back at Nick.”

“Of course not.” Stella stroked her hair. “I’m
sure that’s not the only reason he wanted to be with you. He couldn’t take his
eyes off you.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.” Stella tipped her head. “Are
you really telling me you don’t think he has feelings for you? That it’s all
about sex?”

“I don’t know. He wants to see me again,
and he got angry when he thought I wanted to call it a day.”

“Do you want to call it a day?” Stella couldn’t
hide her incredulity. “Don’t you feel anything for him?”

“The thing is… I feel too much, Stel. I…
I’m crazy about him. But I’ve only met him three times. Love is something that
you build over time. It comes from trust and it’s comfortable and dependable.”

Stella gave a fake yawn.

Chloe bit her lip and looked away.

Stella sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, I know
this is about Nina, but you said yourself that you’ve played it safe only
because you don’t want to end up like her. That doesn’t mean it will happen.
What if Garth’s your soulmate? The one you’re supposed to be with?”

“I don’t believe in soulmates.”

“But what if you truly are compatible? If
you really could be comfortable and dependable together? How will you ever find
that out if you don’t spend more time with him?”

Chloe didn’t have an answer to that. She
sipped her brandy and sighed as she thought of her mother. “Mum looked really
happy when she talked about Sam, didn’t she?”

“I thought so. But then I don’t know her as
well as you, obviously.”

She cringed at the memory of what she’d
said to Nina, so to take her mind off it, she got Stella to tell her everything
about Alex. Stella’s eyes glowed as she spoke about him. Chloe listened to her
talk enthusiastically, wishing she had the same lack of doubt and
self-flagellation that Stella had. Okay, so Stella had met Alex socially
several times, but they hadn’t dated before. She’d had a one-night stand with
him the same way Chloe had with Garth, but Stella wasn’t beating herself up
about it. She sounded excited at the thought of seeing him again, and didn’t
seem to need to question herself about whether that was right or wrong.

Stella finished off the last bit of brandy
in her glass. “Anyway, I’m going to put some washing on. Stay here and finish
your brandy, and have a think. Maybe you should give Garth a chance, eh?”

She went off into the laundry room.

Chloe turned on the sofa and put her feet
up, resting her head on the arm.

She couldn’t deny that the last twenty-four
hours had been the most exciting she’d spent in…well, maybe ever. The thought
of being a risk-taker like her mother still terrified her. Equally, she had to
admit maybe Garth was right. Perhaps she did crave excitement and the thrill of
being alive the same as he did—the same as her mother did.

Chloe pondered on that thought, trying not
to panic. It didn’t mean she was bipolar. She didn’t have any of the same
symptoms as her mother—the deep depressions, the eating problems, the terrible
self-esteem, no more than anyone else, anyway. Equally, she didn’t suffer from
the mania, the racing thoughts, the hyperactivity that plagued her mother from
time to time.

She’d over-compensated as the years had
gone by. Settled for a dull boyfriend and a lackluster relationship because it felt
safe. Never traveled, never even left the country, preferring to spend her time
in and around the North Island, with only one trip across the Cook Strait to
the South Island. Only in her career had she been a little more adventurous,
training in the hospitality and service industry rather than taking the
secretarial position her school had suggested, drawn to food—especially
confectionary—time and again, and paying her way through university with
waitressing, working in a restaurant, anything that involved dealing with food.

But she’d never really taken a risk. Until she
met Garth.

Perhaps she was being unfair. Crazy even.
Sure, he had a past, but who didn’t? She couldn’t be a hundred percent sure
that getting back at Nick hadn’t played a part in his decision to sleep with her,
but she didn’t believe that was the whole reason.

Thinking of Nick made her think about her
plans to buy Cocoa Heaven. She hadn’t mentioned them to Garth, firstly because
of his obvious antagonism toward the guy, and secondly because after what Ethan
did to her, she wanted to keep her career and her love life separate. Garth
probably wouldn’t be overjoyed that she wanted to buy Nick’s business and help
him out. But should she give up her plans because of that? Maybe it would be a
good thing if Nick sold—perhaps he’d end up moving away, and then Garth could
get on with his life without worrying he’d bump into the guy.

Ultimately, she didn’t want to relinquish
her dream of owning the shop. She had the appointment with the bank the next
day. She would go ahead with it, and if and when she bought the business, she’d
tell Garth then—if he was still speaking to her.

She did want to see him again. Pretending
anything else was plainly ridiculous. She missed him already and he’d only been
gone half an hour. If she’d had his phone number, she’d have given him a call,
but she hadn’t thought to ask him for it. Her lip trembled, so she bit it, then
knocked back the rest of the brandy.

What had he said? “This isn’t over. I’m
telling you now.” He’d looked determined enough to convince her she hadn’t
completely ruined everything. He’d contact her again, but she’d make sure she
took things slow in the future. No more fast sex that made her heart pound.
Next time, she’d be more sensible and just go out to dinner with him, and get
to know him first.

Hopefully he’d agree to that. She reminded
herself that he obviously had feelings for her too, in spite of their brief
relationship. Okay, so he’d loved his wife, but he’d confided in Chloe—the only
person who knew about his past other than his best friend, Mat. He hadn’t slept
with any other woman since he’d been captured. He’d been tender and
affectionate and passionate. He’d even taken her home to meet his dog.

She groaned out loud and closed her eyes.

Hopefully she hadn’t ruined everything.

Garth was halfway back to Opua when his
mobile rang.

His heart thumped, and for a brief moment
he wondered if it would be Chloe. Then he remembered they hadn’t exchanged
numbers, and he cursed himself for being foolish. He flipped open the phone.
Seeing the name Ian Morrison on the screen, he pulled over onto the grassy bank
fronting the beach.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” Ian’s gruff voice sounded more gruff
than usual. “Where are you?”

“A few miles outside Opua. Why?”

“Can you come to the office?”

Garth frowned. “On a Sunday? On Waitangi
Day? Dude, you gotta get a life.”

“You can talk.”

Garth sighed. “I’ve been away, and Orion’s
at home on his own. I just want to go home and crash.”

“There’s something you should know. And I
don’t want to tell you over the phone.”

A sliver of ice slid down his spine. “Okay.
I’ll come over.”

He hung up and pocketed the phone, then
steered the car back toward Paihia. His heart pounded as he drove.

When he arrived at the low, wooden house in
a side road leading up from the seafront, he parked and walked up to the door.
Ian stood there, a grey-haired stocky guy who wore a perpetual frown. He showed
Garth through to the section at the back.