Since We Last Met, page 37
‘Uh-oh,’ Carmen said. ‘Is Tall, Dark and Hopefully Straight coming to us?’
‘It does appear that way.’ For no good reason, Amy stood. There was something about this guy. And now she couldn’t sit again without it looking awkward. ‘Does he look familiar to you?’
‘Only in the way models in magazines look familiar because they look like all the other models in all the other magazines.’
As he drew closer, the details came into focus. His eyes were dazzling—light green or maybe hazel—but he didn’t quite pull off smouldering because his smile was a little too open. No big mysteries. No secrets. An endearing goofiness, even. Amy laid a palm on her chest. Suddenly, the oxygen had thinned.
Carmen stared at Amy’s hand like it had sprouted green fur. ‘Seriously?’
‘Oh yeah.’
‘The Pull?’
‘Like you would not believe.’
Carmen raised her chin. ‘Are you sure that’s the best way to judge a potential boyfriend?’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘And how has that worked out for you so far?’
A circling waiter—a ring-in from Airlie Beach—offered the stranger some bruschetta from a tray, and he paused to grab a couple, giving Amy a chance to remember how to breathe. How could she put this in a way Carmen could understand? ‘Remember Ricky Galanos from uni?’ she said.
‘You had The Pull for Ricky? He was my boyfriend.’
‘No, I didn’t get The Pull for him, and neither did you, and that’s my point. You spent way too long trying to talk yourself into being attracted to him because he was such a “nice guy” and everyone said you were perfect for each other, and he worshipped you. But no matter how hard you tried, it was attraction-factor zero and after way too much wasted time you broke the poor guy’s heart.’
Carmen pursed her lips. ‘We all make mistakes. Well, I don’t, not usually. Okay, maybe one or two significant ones. But I don’t get how that is at all—’
‘You can’t fake attraction. You can’t manufacture it. Other problems are fixable, but not that.’ Amy lowered her voice and sped up as Please Don’t Be Gay resumed walking. ‘If it’s not there, it’s not there. Attraction is fundamental to the survival of the human race.’
‘And if you have this infallible hardwired alert system to identify Mr Right, why are you just as single as I am?’ Carmen hissed.
‘Not by choice, as previously established.’ Carmen went to object, but Amy ploughed on. ‘Admit it, you felt The Pull with your baby daddy.’
‘You know I did, but it may well have been the alcohol. I didn’t even know his surname and, besides, do you see him here now?’
‘But you felt it.’
‘Well, yes there was a strong attraction, but that’s—’
‘Shhh.’
The new guy’s eyes narrowed in scrutiny as he took a last slow step toward them.
Amy smiled. Please be single and straight. Please don’t look at me and think ‘friend’.
‘Carmen?’ he said, holding his arms wide, palms up. Amy suppressed a groan. Of course he’d make a beeline for Carmen—their mother was currently taken. He leaned forward and attempted a hug but the angles were all wrong and it was like watching two triangles embrace. He stepped back and pivoted so he was looking down at Amy. Her breath caught. He was the perfect height—she’d have to tiptoe to kiss him. ‘Which means you must be the Amy I’ve heard so much about.’
He had? Amy went to offer her hand but suddenly he was hugging her, her cheek squashed against a solid shoulder covered by soft cotton. No incompatibility in those angles, possibly because she didn’t have angles. She filled spaces like a liquid. He smelled sweet and woody, a rumpled end-of-the-day scent like he’d spritzed with an earthy cologne before disembarking at the jetty. She went ahead and shamelessly inhaled.
‘Stoked to meet you at last,’ he said, his deep voice rumbling against her ear.
At last?
He released her and stood back, looking from sister to sister as if he couldn’t believe his luck. Carmen shot Amy a what-is-this-guy-on? look. Amy shot back with I-have-no-idea-but-I’m-withholding-judgment.
Starting as she meant to continue, Amy assumed her best I’m-not-just-a-good-friend posture. Whatever that was. A little fluid, a little casual. Chest forward, head tilted? One hand on the bar stool, leaning over slightly?
‘Oh man,’ he said, running both hands through that glorious hair and hooking them there, ‘you have no idea who I am. I’ve just come in from Melbourne after a double shift, which means I’ve been up since approximately three days ago.’
Carmen raised her eyebrows at Amy. He lived in Melbourne. Too perfect. Amy was a second away from figuring out the catch. Up close, his jaw was dusted with an eight o’clock shadow that roughed him up just right. His eyes were hazel or light brown rather than green, but she’d need to do far more study in various lighting conditions to establish the exact shade.
‘I’m Josh,’ he said, as if that would clear everything up. He slung an arm around Amy’s shoulder and pulled her in beside him, upsetting her precarious balance and forcing her into tricky footwork to stay upright. He looked at her with an expression of wonder—the way men looked at women who weren’t her. Yeesh. The Pull. It was like having sea legs. In a minute she would fall right over, or at least collide with his chest.
And would that be so bad?
‘I’m Sanjay’s son,’ he said. ‘Your new brother.’
What?
He squeezed her shoulder and, with a hot jolt, she saw the embrace for what it was. A brotherly hug. Josh. Joshua Brennan, Sanjay’s son, who’d just moved from Perth.
His grin widened. ‘I’ve always wanted a little sister.’
ISBN: 9781489284167
TITLE: SINCE WE LAST MET
First Australian Publication 2022
Copyright © 2022 by Bronwyn Sell
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher:
HQ Fiction
An imprint of Harlequin Enterprises (Australia) Pty Limited (ABN 47 001 180 918), a subsidiary of HarperCollins Publishers Australia Pty Limited (ABN 36 009 913 517)
Level 13, 201 Elizabeth St
SYDNEY NSW 2000
AUSTRALIA
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
® and ™ are trademarks owned by Harlequin Enterprises Limited or its corporate affiliates and used by others under licence. Trademarks marked with an ® are registered in Australia and in other countries. Contact admin_legal@Harlequin.ca for details.
www.harpercollins.com.au/hq
Bronwyn Sell, Since We Last Met
