Summer Fling (6 page)

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Authors: Serenity Woods

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He wouldn’t think about that now though, or
he’d have to leave the bar, and he was rather enjoying this rare social moment.

“Do you still think about it?” Mat seemed
to read his mind. “About Afghanistan, I mean.”

“It’s never far from the surface.”

“You should see someone, you know. To talk
about what happened.”

“I
am
talking,” Garth said, amused.
“To you.”

“You know what I mean. A shrink. Someone
with experience in this sort of thing. Hell, Rick, you’ve gone through more in
the past three years than most people go through in a lifetime. It would have
killed lesser men.”

“Good thing I’m greater than most men, then.”
Garth knew his jest wouldn’t fool Mat. He looked at his glass. “Don’t call me
Rick. I’m not that man anymore.”

“Sorry, I forget sometimes. But you
are
still the same man, and you won’t be able to move forward until you accept
that.”

Garth moved his gaze back to the horizon,
reluctant to talk about it. He didn’t need to see a shrink and go over and over
the details of his imprisonment. That happened most nights anyway, where he’d
imagine the tight blindfold across his eyes, the cut of the restraints into his
wrists, and the stench of the cell in his nostrils, even though it had been a
year since he’d escaped. He didn’t want to keep reliving it. He wanted to move
on.

An image of Chloe Jackson popped into his
head, with her eyes that captured the brilliant blue of the sky and hair the
color of the midday sun. He’d tried to forget her. Why dwell on what could
never be? Hadn’t he learned that lesson enough over the past few years? But he
couldn’t help it. She haunted him, and in the end he’d stopped trying to put
her out of his mind. Whenever he thought of her, it reminded him of that moment
he’d kissed her in the doorway of the plane, his stomach lurching the way it
did whenever he jumped. She was like freedom in a bottle.

A very soft, curvy, chocolate-smelling
bottle.

Garth blinked. Chloe had just walked into
the bar. Had he conjured her up out of his dreams? She hadn’t seen him, and she
paused to look out at the view of the bay. The setting sun lit up her profile,
highlighting her hair with a red-gold glow. She wore dark jeans that flared out
at the ankle and a pretty fuchsia-pink vest made of some sheer material that
draped attractively over her breasts. She’d pinned her long blonde hair up in a
neat chignon.

Desire surged through him, and he caught
his breath. It was all he could do not to let his tongue trail on the ground
like a lovesick cartoon character.

She also looked sad, chewing on her bottom
lip in that sexy way she had. He noted that Stella accompanied her, not a guy.

Mat stared at him and obviously caught
something interesting in the look on Garth’s face, because he turned to follow
his gaze. “Oh…” Shooting Garth a quick grin, he pushed himself to his feet and
waved. “Hey, ladies, want to join us?”

Chloe turned, saw Mat, and gave a genuine
smile of pleasure. Then her gaze fell on Garth. Her eyes widened and she
inhaled.

Warmth flooded through him, and he stood
and smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Chloe blushed. Mat glanced at Garth,
eyebrows raised. Stella nudged Chloe with her elbow.

Garth just smiled. “Can I get you ladies a
drink?”

Chloe shook her head, brushing a stray
strand of hair out of her eyes. “No, that’s okay, I’ll get them. Chardonnay,
Stel?”

“Please.”

She walked to the bar and ordered a couple
glasses of wine. Retrieving her purse from her bag, she fumbled it and dropped
coins across the counter.

Stella whispered to Garth, “Wow, that’s
some effect you have on her.”

He couldn’t quite believe that seeing him
had made her drop her purse, but he liked the thought. “Hello Stella.” He
kissed her on the cheek.

“She told me she’d met you.” Stella sat
next to them.

“Did she?” That pleased him. If she hadn’t
cared for him at all, she wouldn’t have given him another thought.

“Yeah. She likes you—a lot. But she’s been
hurt pretty bad in the past, and she’s just seen the prick who did it, so don’t
be surprised if she’s defensive.”

Garth nodded. Presumably the “prick” was
also the “bastard” that Chloe had mentioned on the plane. The two names didn’t
bode well for the guy. He opened his mouth to ask Stella for more details, but
at that moment Chloe came up with their drinks, so he kept the question to
himself.

She sat between him and Stella and passed
her friend the glass. Sipping her wine, she glanced at Garth. Her cheeks
reddened at his steady gaze.

“You okay?” Mat asked. “Stella said you ran
into Ethan.”

She sighed heavily. “Yeah. Bit of a shock.”

Garth decided to ask her outright. “Is he the
‘bastard’ you referred to on the plane?”

“Yeah. He works in Kaikohe. I wouldn’t have
expected to see him here normally.”

“I hope you kneed him in the nuts,” Mat
said.

Chloe laughed. “Not quite, although that
would have been more satisfying.” She waved her hand in the air. “I don’t want
to waste another second thinking about him. Change the subject, please.”

“Okay,” Mat said. “Abby told me you were
going for an interview, but it fell through?”

“Yeah. Shame, but these things happen.” She
smiled brightly—too brightly. Obviously she didn’t want to talk about that
either. She changed the subject again, confirming Garth’s thoughts. “How’s the
jumping-out-of-planes business? Parachutes still opening?”

“Clearly,” he said. “Otherwise you’d have a
pair of pancake-shaped instructors sitting here right now.”

She laughed and smiled gratefully. Her eyes
sparkled.

If the other two hadn’t been there, he’d
have pulled her to him and kissed her senseless. The flush in her cheeks
deepened as if she’d read his thoughts, so he winked at her. Yep, definite
reddening. Perhaps she
had
dropped the purse because of him. What a nice
thought.

Mat gestured at Stella. “Have you convinced
Chloe to come to the party tomorrow?”

Stella sighed. “No. For some reason she’d
much rather watch all three ‘The Mummy’ movies while eating vast quantities of
chocolate.”

“It’s called research,” Chloe said. “The
chocolate, not the Mummy thing.”

“It’s called being anti-social. Sweetie, I
know you don’t like crowds, but you really should get out more.”

“Thank you,” Mat said. “At last, someone
else with their head screwed on right.”

“Jeez, it’s like listening to a broken
record.” Garth pointed his glass at Chloe. “I completely understand where
you’re coming from. I’d much rather watch movies than go to a party.”

Mat sighed. “Dude, you’re only
twenty-eight. Do you know how old you sound?”

“I really don’t care. I’m happy.”

“You’re not happy. You’re safe, is what you
mean.”

Garth shot him a warning glare. He didn’t
want Mat to raise the topic of his incarceration, not until he got to know
Chloe better. Mat raised his eyebrows as if to challenge him, but didn’t say
anything else.

“Come on,” Chloe said, “it takes all sorts.
Not everyone loves partying. Some of us are more comfortable with our own
company, that’s all. It doesn’t mean we’re wrong and you’re right.”

“True,” Stella said. “I do understand. And
I’m not exactly a raver, Chloe, let’s face it. But the thing is, it’s not like
the place will be full of eighteen-year-old lunatics bent on getting shit-faced
and having orgies. Most of the people there will be over twenty-five with
full-time jobs, and some have mortgages and even kids. It’s just a chance to
get together with friends.”

Chloe looked out at the sea, and Garth
shifted in his seat. Stella made them both sound unreasonable for not wanting
to go to the party. Perhaps she was right—he
had
been thinking about it
like some kind of rave rather than a chance to socialize with his peers and
actually get out there and meet people. But the very thought made him recoil.
He wasn’t ready to meet people.

Maybe one day he’d be back to his old self
and not hide away all the time, but he hadn’t reached that point yet.
Socializing, partying, bedding women—that was Rick Taylor’s lifestyle, not
Garth Rowland’s. Mat had got it wrong—he wasn’t the same man he used to be. His
experience in Afghanistan had changed him on a molecular level. He didn’t think
or feel the same as the man he’d been.

He hadn’t even considered dating again,
although that was mainly because of Jess. His conflicting emotions about his
late wife were woven inextricably into his rage and hatred for Nick Stewart.
But that would all be resolved in the very near future. Once he sorted Stewart out,
maybe then he could grieve properly for Jess and put the whole convoluted mess
of the past few years behind him.

His gaze slid back to Chloe. Mat and Stella
were talking about Mat’s upcoming wedding with Stella’s sister Abby, but Chloe
continued to look out of the window. What was her story? Clearly something had
gone badly wrong between her and her ex. What with him and the problem she had
dealing with her bipolar mother, she seemed as screwed up as he did. Perhaps
that had drawn them together—two reclusive, private misfits in a society that
demanded you bring your problems and psychoses out into the open.

Beneath the table, he widened his legs
slightly so his knee pushed against hers. She obviously felt the pressure and
turned to look at him, and their gazes met.

Chapter Eight

Just like on the plane, something shot between
them. Garth hadn’t expected it—he’d hoped for nothing more than a smile from
her. But she didn’t smile. His pulse raced at the look in her eyes. Her lips
parted, and a light blush spread over her cheeks again. She moistened her lips
with the tip of her tongue.

He’d hardly thought about having sex since
he returned to New Zealand, too knotted up in negative emotions to ponder on
his bodily desires. Since meeting Chloe, though, he thought about it all the
time. He put everything he was feeling into his eyes and let his lips curve.
Her blush spread. She seemed to spend the whole time around him with pink
cheeks.

He liked that.

She finally looked away, blinking as Mat
asked her a question. “Pardon?” she said, dazed.

Mat tried to hide a smile, unsuccessfully.
“I asked if you’d come up with any new chocolate recipes lately.” He grinned at
Garth. “She makes the most heavenly truffles.”

“Actually, Mr. Repia, I have,” she said.
“‘Eggs that Bite.’”

“Huh?”

“For Easter.” She told them about her plan
to produce a chocolate Russian Roulette game with a chili-flavored truffle
hidden somewhere within.

“I’d definitely play it,” Mat said. “It
sounds fun.”

Stella pulled a face. “I don’t like
anything hot.”

“That would be the interesting part of it,
though,” Garth said. “Trying not to choose the chili chocolate.” He smiled at
Chloe. “It’s a great idea.”

“Thanks.” She met his eyes again. Then she
lowered her gaze to her glass.

Stella glanced at her, then at Garth. Her
eyes sparkled. “How’s the business?”

“Booming. I always knew this would be the
busiest time of year, but I’m still surprised how crazy it’s been.”

“Who’d have thought there’d be so many
people willing to throw themselves out of a plane?” Chloe said.

“I know, crazy isn’t it? But Sky High also
offers other stuff. Helicopter rides across the bay, for example. They’re
really popular with tourists. And flying lessons, that sort of thing.”

“Anything to get off the ground, eh?”

“Pretty much.”

She studied him for a moment, her eyes
cautious. “You run a risky business.”

He shrugged. “Life’s a risky business. I’ve
come to realize that. I know I don’t get out much, but that doesn’t mean I like
to play it safe. I’ve come to think that when your number’s up, it’s up, and
there’s not a damn thing you can do about it. Until then, you might as well do
whatever lights your candle.”

“Like throwing yourself out of planes?”

“Like throwing myself out of planes.” He
smiled and tipped his head at her. “What lights your candle, Chloe Jackson?”

She opened her mouth to answer him, but Mat’s
smirk and Stella’s giggle returned the blush to her cheeks and in the end she
just lowered her eyes.

He took pity on her and changed the
subject, asking Mat about the wedding, and they spent a pleasant half an hour
or so making general conversation. He was pleased to see Chloe relax. Hopefully
she’d managed to put her unpleasant conversation with her ex to the back of her
mind for a while.

She finished off her wine. “We’d better go,
Stel. I’ll turn into a pumpkin if I’m out any later.”

Stella laughed. “Come on then.” She kissed
both the guys on the cheek.

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