Outback Secrets, page 21
‘I’m guessing you used to share this room with Tilley?’
‘Yes,’ she groaned. ‘It was painful. I was so excited when she got engaged to James and moved into town with him, but Mum refused to let me redecorate and take over. I think she was hoping all that pink stuff would rub off on me.’
He reached out to pick up a photo frame on her bedside table and smiled down at the image of a slightly younger Henri standing in front of a small plane, mostly blue with a yellow stripe down the middle, propeller at the front and a miniscule cockpit. There was a large hangar in the distance and a smile on Henri’s face that reminded him of her expression yesterday afternoon when he’d just kissed the living hell out of her.
‘What kind of plane is this?’ he asked, not sure how to broach the subject he really wanted to talk about.
Henri gazed fondly at the photo. ‘That photo was taken on one of my very first proper jobs—it’s a radial powered Dromader. You have to coax them into life until an idle is established. Most of them bleed a bit of oil down the side of the aircraft, bad ones can haemorrhage. I actually flew one again in the Esperance bushfires in 2015 and the oil bleed was so bad that after a couple of hours, the windscreen was partially obscured by a trail of oil right up the side of the fuselage. Every time I refuelled, I also had to put fifteen litres of oil into the engine.’
‘So you don’t fly these aircraft now?’
She shook her head. ‘Very rarely. Mostly I fly AT502s or Thrush 510s. Both are 500 US gallon machines. The AT802s are mainly used when I do fire contracts, as they can hold 500 US gallons, but even they’re being used for some ag flying now. Last time I was topdressing in Victoria, the company I was with used Beavers—they’re Canadian aircraft and I quite like them too.’
He had no idea what she was talking about, but he nodded as if he did.
‘Sorry …’ she said. ‘I get a little excited when I talk shop.’
‘Hey, don’t apologise.’ It was good to hear her talking so passionately about flying again. He reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand. ‘You’re not boring me at all. Promise.’
She met his smile with one of her own. ‘That’s sweet of you to say.’
Liam wasn’t sure whether it was the chocolate or the plane talk that had improved her mood, but he was glad she seemed a little happier than when he arrived.
‘You know …’ She gestured to the box of chocolates in her lap. ‘As much as I appreciate these, you didn’t have to come all this way.’
‘You make it sound like I trekked across the Simpson Desert to get to you. It’s barely a ten-minute drive and I wanted to check you were okay. I would have come last night but by the time Drew mentioned you were hurt, it was too late to come out.’
‘I’m sorry for worrying you. I did call as soon as we got back from the hospital. I left a message with Lara.’
‘I know. Unfortunately, she didn’t remember to tell me until after we’d closed.’
‘Whoops.’ A gorgeous blush tinted her cheeks. ‘I had no idea when I asked you to help me the extent you’d have to go to.’
He slid his hand over her jaw and down her neck to her collarbone. ‘It hasn’t been that much of a hardship.’ Her skin felt like velvet, and she shivered beneath his touch.
‘I’m glad to hear it.’
‘But,’ he began, ‘I thought I made it clear yesterday that I think it’s time to make things a little bit more real?’
‘Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, Liam?’
Her tone told him she didn’t mind if he was.
‘Uh huh. Kissing you. Surfing with you. Flying with you. Spending all this time with you … it’s driving me crazy, but I don’t want to lead you on. This wouldn’t be … You need to know …’
He swallowed—why was it so hard to lay his cards on the table? He’d done it time and time again with other women.
‘I’m not interested in a relationship,’ he managed eventually. ‘All I can offer is a …’
Henri raised an eyebrow as he tried to find the right expression. ‘A fling, Liam? Is that the word you’re looking for? One-night stand? No-strings-attached bonking? Fuck buddies?’
‘I …’ He didn’t know what to say to that. Didn’t know whether she was amused or pissed off.
‘Because that’s more than fine with me. Your touch would have to be pretty damn magic to have me start fantasising about white weddings and happily ever afters if that’s what you’re asking. I’m too selfish for a relationship anyway. My career will always come first.’
‘Me too. That’s good.’ He nodded. ‘By the way, I lied. The flowers are for you.’
She grinned. ‘Excellent, because I lied when I said I didn’t like them. But now we’ve got all that sorted, are we just going to keep talking? Or are you gunna shut up and kiss me?’
‘Well, since you asked so nicely.’ He pushed her back onto the mattress and lowered his head to hers.
A knock sounded on the door.
Chapter Twenty-four
Henri cursed as her mother’s voice followed quickly after the knock on her bedroom door.
‘I don’t want to interrupt anything but … I was just wondering if you’re going to stay for lunch, Liam? It would be lovely to have you join us.’
Henri fully expected him to say no, so she almost fell off the bed when he called back, ‘Sure, that would be lovely, thanks.’
‘Excellent. I’m just putting it on the table now. Come on out when you’re ready.’
‘Are you crazy?’ she hissed as they listened to her mother’s footsteps patter back down the hallway. Were they not in the middle of something here?
‘What?’ Liam shrugged one shoulder as he hit her with the most infuriating grin. ‘I’m hungry and it felt rude to turn her down. Shouldn’t I be trying to stay on your mother’s good side?’
Ah, that’s right. The stupid farce.
Henri felt like crying. Would she and Liam ever be able to follow through on what they’d started? Then again, did she really want to have sex with him for the first time on her tiny childhood bed with her mother just down the hall?
Still, as her heart rate returned to normal, she couldn’t help being disappointed. She didn’t want to sit through lunch making small talk with her mum; she wanted Liam to whisk her back to the pub so they could both have their wicked way.
‘Come on,’ he said, climbing off the bed and reaching for her crutches. ‘Let me help you.’
Not usually one to accept assistance so easily, Henri didn’t object as he slipped his arm around her back and lifted her into a stand.
‘You smell so good,’ she whispered, leaning into him, resisting the urge to lick his neck. Her mother was a good cook, but nothing she could possibly serve would taste as delicious as him. ‘What cologne do you use?’
‘Nothing. Just soap and a can of whatever deodorant is on special at IGA.’ He handed her the crutches, and she missed his touch as she allowed them to take her weight.
She sighed. ‘Come on, let’s get this ordeal over and done with.’
Liam gave her a look. ‘It’s only a bit of lunch.’
But where Henri’s mother was concerned, nothing was ever only a bit of lunch.
‘Let’s hope so,’ she said as Liam crossed the room and opened the door.
He walked right beside her as she hobbled down the hallway and into the dining room, which was adjacent to the massive country-style kitchen.
‘Such a shame about Henri’s ankle, but it’s great that you can join us for lunch,’ said Fiona.
‘Why is that on the table?’ Henri cried as she spotted one of their family photo albums resting between a jug of water and her mother’s beloved dog and cat salt and pepper shakers.
‘I thought Liam might like to see some photos of when you were a kid.’
‘Of course he doesn’t,’ Henri snapped.
‘Actually, I do,’ Liam said, an annoying twinkle in his eyes. ‘Very, very much so.’
If she were more mobile, she’d grab the album and hurl it out the window, but she still hadn’t completely conquered the crutches so that would be near on impossible.
‘You two sit down,’ Fiona ordered as she headed into the kitchen.
‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ Liam called.
‘Of course not. You’re our guest.’ She sounded offended to have been even asked such a question. ‘Sit down and relax.’
Liam helped Henri into a seat, then he took the one beside her. He’d barely been sitting five seconds when she felt his hand land on her thigh, just below the bottom of her short denim skirt. She inhaled sharply as her damn Kegel muscles jumped to attention.
Her mother returned carrying a steamy hot quiche in her ovenmitted hands. ‘It’s lovely to have you here, Liam.’ She set it down in the middle of the table. ‘I’ve always wanted to ask how you came to buy a country pub?’
‘Um … it was kind of a spur of the moment decision. I’d been travelling for a few years and thinking about stopping and opening some kind of business but wasn’t really sure what. When I stopped in Bunyip Bay, I saw the For Sale sign outside The Palace and it just felt right.’
‘How so?’
‘Mum, stop asking so many questions.’
‘It’s fine.’ Liam gave Henri a quick smile. ‘Well, I guess I just liked the feel of the town, and I saw the potential in the old building. While I was driving around Australia, the old pubs, some really rundown and derelict, others beautifully restored, really intrigued me. I guess I was excited by the challenge of bringing The Palace back to life.’
‘Well, you’ve certainly done that,’ Fiona said as she began to dish up the quiche. ‘Don’t you agree, Henrietta? Remember how dirty and dingy it used to be?’
Henri nodded, even though she now had a feeling this wasn’t the full story. People didn’t just buy pubs on the spur of the moment. Then again, if her whole family were obliterated in one go, who knew what kind of crazy thing she might do.
‘Some salad?’ her mother asked Liam.
As he nodded, she added, ‘Must be pretty tough work though. Long hours, late nights, seven days a week. Hard to get away for a break.’
‘I wouldn’t say it’s any more gruelling than farming,’ he replied.
‘But all those long nights!’ she exclaimed. ‘And when was the last time you took a holiday?’
‘True, I work nights, but most of my days are my own and as for vacations, have you seen the beach recently? People come here for holidays.’
At this, Fiona had to concede a smile.
‘Henri and I went to the Abrolhos on Wednesday—that was amazing.’
‘Ooh, yes, I saw the photos she put on Facebook. I haven’t been in years. I guess you must meet some interesting characters in your job too?’
Liam nodded. ‘Interesting is an understatement. I promise I’m never bored. You should hear some of the stories I’ve heard from people passing through.’
‘I can imagine,’ she said as she handed him a plate. ‘I hope you like quiche.’
‘What’s not to like?’ Liam removed his hand from Henri’s knee to pick up his cutlery and she felt her skin go cold.
Knives and forks clinked against crockery as they all began to dig in. Everyone except Henri—she merely pushed the food around her plate with her fork. Usually, she’d have seconds of her mum’s homemade quiche, but today the only thing she was hungry for was sitting right beside her.
‘This is delicious,’ Liam said after a couple of mouthfuls.
Fiona beamed. ‘Thank you. It’s a secret family recipe. Speaking of family … I can imagine yours weren’t very happy when you decided to stay in Australia.’
Henri tensed, wishing her mother would just mind her own business; then again, Liam was the one who’d accepted her invitation. Perhaps an interrogation served him right.
‘My parents are both dead,’ he said, reaching for his glass of water.
Her mother blinked, then gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’
He nodded. ‘Thank you.’
Awkward silence lingered a few long moments and Henri racked her mind for something innocuous to say when her mother tapped on the album. ‘Would you like to see some photos from when Henrietta was growing up, Liam?’
‘Are there any embarrassing ones?’ he asked.
She beamed. ‘This is Henrietta we’re talking about … pretty much all of them are embarrassing. She was constantly getting into sticky situations, not caring about what anyone thought.’
‘In that case …’ Liam grinned as if someone had just told him he’d won a million dollars. ‘I definitely want to see.’
Clearly delighted, Fiona abandoned her lunch and opened the thick hand-crafted scrapbook—during the height of the scrapbooking craze, she’d made one for each of her children. The baby photos came first, and Henri couldn’t help the warm flush when Liam gushed about how cute she was.
‘She was my chubbiest baby,’ her mother told him, ‘until she started to crawl, and then she didn’t stop moving. She was always running, climbing over furniture and up trees. See how she’s wearing red in almost every photo?’
As she pointed to the jumper two-year-old Henri was wearing, Liam nodded.
‘Well, that was so we could always see her in the distance. She was constantly escaping the house, wanting to be off with Fred or her older siblings, and we discovered she was easier to keep track of when she was wearing bright colours.’
Liam laughed as Fiona flicked the page and Henri’s tiny, pale bum flashed up at him from where she was bent over a paddling pool.
‘Two seconds after that photo was taken, she fell right in. And, if I remember correctly, it was the middle of winter, but Henri didn’t feel the cold. She was always running around naked no matter what the season. When she was seven, she went to visit Fred and the boys in the shearing shed—in the nuddy. I told her to put some clothes on, but she never has listened to me. Learnt your lesson that day, didn’t you, darling?’
‘What happened?’ Liam asked, turning his amused grin on her.
Fiona answered for her. ‘We’d started shearing a day early and there was a shed full of contractors. They thought it was hilarious.’
Oh my God. Kill me now.
But at that moment Liam’s hand found its way back to her leg and this time he squeezed it gently. Pheromones overcame her.
Over the next few moments, his boldness increased. Henri swallowed. Could her mother see what he was doing? As her legs fell apart of their own accord, she was ashamed to realise she didn’t even care! It was impossible to resist the sensations that were flooding her body at his touch.
The embarrassing stories continued with each turn of the album’s pages—tales of her using hair removal cream thinking it was moisturiser, of trying to pee standing up like her brothers and being annoyed when she couldn’t—but she barely heard her mother’s voice. She’d thought only women were supposed to be able to multitask but right now, Liam seemed to be doing a much better job at it than she was.
‘Ah …’ Henri moaned involuntarily as his fingers inched up her leg.
‘Are you okay, Henrietta?’
Liam pulled back his hand, a slight smirk on his face. ‘Yeah, you okay, Henri?’
She’d want to kill him if she didn’t want to kiss him so bad.
‘Um … um …’ For once in her life she struggled for words. ‘Sorry, just … it’s my ankle. I think the painkillers must be wearing off.’
‘Oh, sweetheart.’ Her mother sighed sympathetically. ‘Do you want me to get you some more?’
‘I don’t know.’
What she really wanted was for her to miraculously vanish. Either that or for her and Liam to magically teleport back to the pub like the characters in Harry Potter. If they didn’t get the chance to finish what they’d started soon, she was going to combust!
‘I was supposed to be having dinner and Christmas drinks with Esther and Dave Burton tonight, but maybe I should cancel,’ Fiona said with a frown. ‘I’m sure they’ll understand that I need to stay home and take care of you.’
‘No!’ Henri and Liam exclaimed at the same time. She couldn’t stand the thought of any more of her henpecking, but it would be good for her mother to get out too. Now that her dad was gone, she needed her friends more than ever.
‘I’ll look after Henrietta,’ Liam added, reaching to take hold of her hand—this time in full view. ‘I can take her back to the pub with me now. I’ll take good care of her and this way, you can enjoy your night out without worrying.’
Pleasure rolled through her like bushfire eating up a crop and she hoped ‘taking care of her’ was code for something else.
After packing Henri another overnight bag, they couldn’t get out of the house fast enough. Her bag on Liam’s shoulder, she hobbled out to the car, Liam and her mother shadowing her all the way to his ute.
‘You know, in my day,’ Fiona said as he opened the door for her and took her crutches, ‘we only stayed over at a gentleman’s house if there was a ring on our finger.’
‘Mum!’ Honestly, she really was the worst—she’d been encouraging Henri to stay with him most nights. ‘We’ve only just got together. It’s not time to book the church just yet.’
Liam smiled. ‘There might not be a ring on Henrietta’s finger yet, Fiona, but that doesn’t mean I’m not looking through jewellery catalogues.’
Then, OMG, he actually winked.
Her mother gleamed and Henri coughed, almost choking as Liam slammed the passenger door shut.
‘Was that too much?’ he asked as he climbed into the driver’s seat beside her.
‘Nah, it was perfect. It serves her right for meddling so much in my life, but it also means when I dump you, it’ll definitely be me she’s angry at, not you. She’ll probably cook you some casseroles to help ease your broken heart.’
‘Well, if her casseroles are as good as her quiche, then that’s something to look forward to. But won’t that defeat the purpose?’
‘What do you mean?’ she asked as they bumped along the gravel drive.
