Wait for Me, page 8
part #3 of The Outback Bachelor Ball Series
It occurred to her that Jonah noticed a lot of things about her, both big and small. But he’d always been an interested, attentive friend. When they’d been on tour together, he’d often referred to jokes she’d made or things she’d said days, sometimes weeks, after she’d said them. It had been a good feeling, knowing that he listened to her, and that he considered the things she said important enough to hang onto. What woman wouldn’t enjoy having a gorgeous, sexy guy paying that kind of attention to her, after all?
Beth frowned out the window, unsettled by her own thoughts. Not once when they were on tour together had she come even close to flirting with Jonah. Not consciously, anyway.
She shifted uneasily as Jonah reversed away from the villa and straightened the car. She glanced at him, trying to work it all out in her mind, and got caught for a moment in the way the morning sunlight gilded the myriad reds and browns in the bristle on his unshaven jaw. The urge to reach out and test the scratch-factor on those bristles gripped her, and she barely stopped herself from reaching across to touch him.
He’d made it pretty clear last night that he wasn’t interested in a repeat performance of what had happened in his bedroom, and she had just enough dignity left to want to avoid another rejection.
“Bet there will be some sore heads this morning,” Jonah said as he drove through the still and silent center of town.
“The ball organizers should give everyone a couple of those miracle headache tablets of yours with every ticket,” Beth said.
“You reckon anyone would remember to actually take them?” There was amusement in his voice, and Beth guessed he was remembering the boisterous high spirits of the partygoers last night.
“Good point. I guess we should keep an eye out for ground pizzas once we leave the car.”
“Ground pizzas?”
“You know.” Beth made a retching sound in the back of her throat, doing her best impression of someone losing their dinner.
Jonah laughed. “I’ve never heard that before. I love it.”
“You love vomit?” Beth asked, deliberately misunderstanding.
He looked away from the road a second to glance at her, amusement lighting his eyes. “Those headache tablets really are miracle workers, aren’t they?”
“Are you suggesting my current levels of wit and charm are chemically induced?”
“I would never suggest anything close to that. Although you were a little grumpy this morning.”
“That’s because someone encouraged me to drink half a liter of tequila last night.”
“The way I remember it, you didn’t need much encouragement.”
He was only teasing her, she knew, but suddenly she was back in his bedroom, his hand cupping her aching sex as she told him to fuck her hard.
Her armpits prickling with memory-induced sweat, she reached out to angle the heating vent away from her face. What would be great, she decided, was if her brain could quit throwing random X-rated snippets at her. At least until she wasn’t sitting next to the man responsible for them.
Jonah showed a security pass to the bleary-looking team at the gate and drove slowly to the spot where they’d picked up the car last night. Soon this place would be swarming with people intent on disassembling the pavilion and other temporary structures, but for now it was still too early for much to be happening. A few people were milling around the front of the catering tent, and there seemed to be steady foot traffic back and forth between the main camping area and the row of Portaloos on the far side of the pavilion. Other than that, it was a far cry from the noisy, rowdy atmosphere of last night.
Exiting the SUV, she cast an eye over the myriad colored tents filling the showgrounds. It all looked so different from when they arrived yesterday that, for a moment, she doubted she’d be able to find her friends. Then she remembered she’d taken a bearing on the top pole of the pavilion before they left their site last night. If she just kept to that line, she’d stumble across Ellie and Jen eventually, she figured.
For the first time she thought about what her friends were going to say when she appeared in Jonah’s clothes after not returning to the tent last night . They were going to be surprised, for starters. And possibly worried. They were going to think Jonah was taking advantage of her, or that she was doing something self-destructive, when in reality being with Jonah felt like the best, most self-nurturing thing she’d done in a long, long time.
Either way, this wasn’t a conversation she wanted Jonah playing witness to. Not if she could help it.
“So. I was thinking maybe I should go find my friends while you grab a coffee or something. No point in both of us risking all those ground pizzas that are bound to be out there.”
Jonah considered her for a fraction of a heartbeat before responding, just long enough for her to know he was onto her.
“Sure. I can do that.” He smiled one of his small, easy smiles.
Not putting any pressure on her, not pushing to find out why she didn’t want him to go with her. In short, being pretty much perfect, as he had been last night and again this morning. Meanwhile, she was full-to-bursting with doubt and guilt and worry — a walking, talking disaster zone.
“Name one bad thing about yourself,” she asked, the words popping out her mouth before she could censor them.
His eyebrows shot toward his hairline and he gave an uncertain laugh. “What? Why?”
She was already regretting her impulsiveness, but it was too late now. “Call it proof of life.”
“You need proof I’m alive?”
“I need proof you weren’t designed to be the perfect man in a lab somewhere.”
He looked even more surprised. “I’m not even close to being perfect, so you’ve got no worries there.”
“That’s exactly the sort of thing a perfect man robot would say.”
His mouth quirked up at the corner. “All right. How about this? I broke my father’s heart when I left the station to tour with the band. It was his dream that I’d take over from him one day, but I didn’t want it and I couldn’t bring myself to make the sacrifice to make him happy.”
There was a stark truth behind his words, and she could see the guilt flicker behind his eyes.
“How does he feel now you’ve hit it big?” she asked.
“He’s proud of me. But I know he’d still prefer it if I was working alongside him every day.”
“Everyone gets to live their own life,” she said, in case he needed to hear it.
“Yeah, I know. How are we doing? Have I proved my humanity yet? I’ve got more if you need it.”
“Hit me.”
“I drink straight out of the milk bottle. I get impatient when I’m tired. I hate crying babies.”
“Everyone hates crying babies, even their parents.”
“A couple of years ago I moved in with a woman even though I knew I didn’t feel the same way about her that she did about me. She was pretty messed up by the time I admitted it to us both.” His voice was heavy with regret and painful lessons learned.
“You didn’t do it on purpose.” She said it firmly, because she knew him and she knew he would never set out to deliberately hurt someone.
“I’m not sure that matters when you wind up at the same place anyway,” he said.
He focused on something over her shoulder, eyes slightly narrowed against the morning sun, and she made a point of noticing the lines around his eyes and mouth. He was a man who laughed a lot, yes, but he was also a man who felt deeply. His song lyrics provided ample evidence of that, if she needed it.
She didn’t.
“All right. You pass the human test. But only just,” she said lightly.
“You’re a tough marker.”
“You need to work on your faults,” she said.
“Careful. That sounds like an invitation.”
She wasn’t sure if she was imagining the glint in his eye or not, and she glanced toward the camping ground, uncomfortable with the way her stomach got all fluttery and stupid at the idea that he might be flirting with her. They’d had sex already — there should be no mystery there, no unanswered questions.
“I should probably go find my friends. We don’t want to miss the flight.”
“It’s a charter. They’ll wait.”
“Either way, I won’t be long.”
She turned and started walking, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his shorts. She made herself wait until she’d reached the first line of tents before allowing herself to glance back to check on him. He was walking toward the catering tent, sunglasses on, his stride long.
He was so gorgeous. And so decent. And she’d had such a good time with him last night — messy confessions and tears and crazy sex and all.
Lifting her face to the sun, she sent a small prayer of thanks out into the universe, thanking whoever or whatever was in charge of arranging coincidental meetings between old friends in unexpected places.
Chapter Seven
Beth kept an eye out for biological hazards as she resumed walking, wrinkling her nose at the piles of crushed beer cans and empty bottles and other party debris littering the ground. The cleanup crew had their work cut out for them once everyone had gone home. She was giving a wide berth to a pair of abandoned men’s underpants that had been trampled into the mud when she spotted the silver-gray of Ellie’s tent.
Beth increased her pace as she remembered what had been at stake for Ellie last night, hoping against hope that things had worked out with Rick. Or, failing that, that Ellie had met someone with the potential to replace Rick in her heart.
Beth had almost reached the tent when one half of it sagged to the ground, revealing Ellie on her knees, a tent peg in hand. She was breaking down their camp already.
Not a good sign.
“Hey. I wasn’t sure if you guys would be up yet,” Beth said¸ causing Ellie to start and almost fall on her butt.
“God, you scared me,” Ellie said.
Gone was last night’s glamorous hairstyle, replaced by Ellie’s familiar messy ponytail.
“Sorry.”
“I was just about to text you and Jen.”
“Jen’s not here?” Beth asked, surprised. Jen had been so adamant about being over men.
“You weren’t the only one who didn’t come home last night.”
“Wow. Go, Jen.”
Ellie’s gaze took in Beth’s clothes. “What happened to your dress?”
Beth tried for a light little laugh, but the sound came out sounding more like a nervous squeak.
“Funny story. You know how Jonah Masters made a surprise appearance last night? Well, I know him from when he was touring with Troy a few years ago.”
“Wait a minute — you spent the night with Jonah Masters?” Ellie asked.
“The one and only. We went to his villa and drank some tequila. It got late, so I crashed on the couch.” She felt…weird giving Ellie the expurgated version of events, but no way did she want to dissect last night. Not yet, anyway.
The small frown between Ellie’s eyebrows eased. “So you had a good night, then? I was a bit worried we’d made a mistake dragging you along.”
“I did have a good night. How about you? How did it go with Rick?”
Ellie’s shoulders tensed and her mouth flattened into a straight, unhappy line. “Awesome. Got him right out of my system.”
So Rick still hadn’t woken up to the fact that Ellie was the most amazing woman he’d meet in his lifetime.
“Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry.”
Ellie kicked at one of the tent pegs. “Yeah, so am I.”
“What happened to the other guy? The dark-haired cowboy?” The last time Beth had seen Ellie, she’d been fending off both men.
“I’m not interested in Jack,” Ellie said flatly.
“Good. He wasn’t right for you, anyway.” Ellie looked so miserable and so close to tears that Beth stepped close and wrapped her in her arms. “He’s a dickhead,” Beth said fiercely. “A blind dickhead who can’t see what’s right under his nose.”
Ellie squeezed her tight. When she stepped back from their hug, her eyes were shiny with tears.
“He’s not a dickhead. We just want different things, that’s all.” Her gaze darted toward the red pickup truck parked a couple campsites over. “You want to help me pull the rest of the tent down so we can get out of here?”
Beth took a deep breath. “Here’s the thing — Jonah has invited me to fly to the coast with him today to check out a house he’s thinking of buying. He said he could fly me back to Coolibah once we’re done. As long as it’s okay for us to use the landing strip, that is.”
Not having grown up in the country, Beth had no idea what landing-strip etiquette was.
Ellie shook her head, confusion clouding her blue eyes. “Sorry, what? You’re flying to the coast? Today?”
“This bachelor and spinster gig was a last-minute thing for him, and Jonah had the house viewing set up. If he cancels, he might miss out on this place, and he really likes the look of it…” Beth trailed off lamely as she saw the dawning comprehension on Ellie’s face.
“Oh, my God. Something happened with you guys last night, didn’t it?” Ellie asked.
“I’ll be back before dinner,” Beth said.[A1] “Basically all I’m missing out on is four hours in the car, right? And I can catch up with Jen on Skype.”
The worried look made a reappearance on Ellie’s face as she registered Beth’s evasion.[A2]
“What are you doing, Beth?” she asked, her voice low and serious.
“Nothing. I’m just going with the flow.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. He was really good to me last night, Ellie.”
“Okay.”
But Ellie still looked doubtful and Beth searched for a way to reassure her.
“I think I need this,” Beth said softly. “Whatever it is. He makes me feel things I didn’t think I would ever feel again.”
“I just don’t want anyone to take advantage of you while your guard is down.”
“I’ll be fine. Scratch that, I am fine. I swear it.”
Ellie’s gaze searched her face for a beat before the tension left her face.
“All right. But do you think you could help me pack the tent away before you go?”
“Of course,” Beth said.
She spent ten minutes helping pack gear into the battered pickup before her phone buzzed in her pocket. It was from Jonah, checking if everything was okay. When she glanced up, Ellie waved her off.
“Go on then, take off with your rock star. I’m all good here. But call me if you need me, okay?”
“Love you,” Beth said, ducking in close to kiss Ellie’s cheek.
“Love you too, sweetie.” Ellie gave her a tight hug, then handed Beth her overnight bag.
“I’ll see you tonight. Tell Jen goodbye for me, okay? And that I’ll call her in a day or two to hear all about her mystery man,” Beth said.
“I will.”
Beth made her way toward the catering tent, aware that she’d kept Jonah waiting almost fifteen minutes. She found him lounging in the corner, talking with a circle of rapt fans. He smiled when he saw her, and she realized that she could have kept him waiting for an hour and he’d still be chilled.
Jonah was easy. Being with him was easy. Easy and comfortable and exciting all at the same time.
“Sorry,” Beth said as she joined the circle of his admirers. “Ellie needed help taking the tent down.”
“No worries. You ready to go now?”
“Would it screw up the schedule if I took five more minutes to change into my own clothes?”
“Take ten. We’ve got some wriggle room.”
She gave him a grateful smile and rushed off to find the Portaloos. Minutes later, she rejoined him wearing her own jeans and a white tank top with a lightweight pale pink sweater. He gave her a quick head to toe but for the life of her she couldn’t tell whether he’d noticed that, as well as changing, she’d stolen a few seconds to brush on some mascara and smooth on some lipstick.
“Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
They walked to the SUV and made the quick drive to the local airfield. There, they were greeted by a short, balding man in his late forties who introduced himself as Leon before leading them to a twin-engine plane. Her overnight bag was stowed in the back along with Jonah’s luggage, since the SUV was being collected from the airport, and after a short conversation with someone on the radio, Leon taxied the little plane down the runway and took to the air.
Beth had always been a good flyer, and she looked out the window, marveling at the world dropping away beneath them. The plane dipped briefly as it encountered a gust of wind before surging higher again, and she turned to Jonah with a grin to see if he was enjoying the experience as much as she was.
He was pressed back into his seat, both hands white-knuckle tight on the armrests, his expression stony as he stared straight ahead.
“You’re afraid of flying,” she guessed.
“A little nervous, that’s all,” he said.
She touched a finger to his forehead. He was damp with anxious sweat.
“You’re sweating.”
“Am I?”
She studied him for a moment, trying to get something straight in her head. “Why are you flying if you hate it so much?”
“It’s mostly small planes. I’m okay on commercial fights,” he said.
“Okay, but that doesn’t answer my original question. Why fly at all when you could have driven to the coast as easily?”
He glanced at her. “Right. And then the next time I have to fly in a small plane, I work out a way to avoid that, too. And then before I know it I’ve decided to never need to leave the house or talk to people or eat anything that isn’t white.”
She couldn’t help but smile at his ridiculous prediction.
“They have fear of flying courses, you know.”
“Tried ’em.”
“No good?”
“Am I still sweating?”
She checked his forehead. “Yep.”
“There’s your answer.” He offered her a tight smile. “Takeoffs and landings are the worst. I’ll be fine once we even out.”
