Outback Sisters (41 page)

She sighed. ‘I guess that means you're not just here for a chat or to check up on how Harriet is after the Friday debacle?'

He shook his head.

Her shoulders slumped. ‘You'd better come inside then.'

An awkward silence followed as Simone unlocked the front door and pushed it open for him to go inside. The situation had gone well past small talk.

‘Head straight down the hallway and you'll find the kitchen,' she told him as she closed the door behind them. Inside the house was much the same as outside—a mix of colours and styles, as if the decorator had kept changing their mind on what kind of look they wanted.

As predicted, he found the kitchen easily and dumped the bags on the 1970s orange Formica bench top.

‘Thanks,' she said again, her voice a little shaky as she came in behind him. ‘Let me just put away the cold stuff and we'll talk.' She began, then paused a moment and looked over to him. ‘Unless you'd like some ice-cream?'

‘No, thanks.' He shook his head. He'd never understood women's inclination to eat sweet stuff when they were down in the dumps. Alcohol seemed like a much better idea but it was still early-ish in the day and, of course, she was pregnant.

‘Take a seat then,' she said, gesturing to the small table in the middle of the small kitchen. ‘Or would you rather have this discussion in the lounge room?'

Truth be told he'd rather not have this discussion at all. ‘Are you pregnant?' he blurted, still standing exactly where he'd been when he dumped the bags.

The tub of cookies and cream she was holding slipped from her hands. She cursed, stooped to pick it up again and instead of putting it in the freezer as had been the plan, grabbed a spoon and sat down at the table. She peeled back the lid and dug in. ‘So what if I am?' she asked, before shoving a very large spoonful into her mouth.

Was that a yes or a no?

As if she could read his mind, she sighed. ‘Yes. I am. I suppose Logan told you the good news? And yes, it's yours.'

At her confirmation that his worst nightmare was coming true, his heart rate shot up again and he dealt with the terror the only way he knew how. He folded his arms across his chest. ‘Isn't a bit early to be mine?'

For all he knew she could have been sleeping with every Tom, Dick and Harry for weeks before she did the deed with him. She'd cheated on Logan at least once, who knew how many other times she'd done so?

She narrowed her eyes and pointed the spoon at him. ‘Are you accusing me of making this up?'

He shrugged. ‘The wedding was three weeks ago. I thought you couldn't tell till at least four weeks?'

‘Oh, so you're a pregnancy expert, are you?' She obviously didn't expect him to reply as she continued, ‘As it happens, I went to the doctor because I wasn't feeling well and she picked it up. I said the same as you and apparently I must be one of those women who ovulate earlier in the month.
Lucky me.
But don't worry, it's still very early days. No guarantees it'll stick. The poor child's living in a body stressed out to the max at the moment. Not exactly ideal thriving conditions.'

‘Is that what you want? To lose it or … get rid of it?' Angus asked, unsure how he felt about that.

‘No!' she roared, waving the spoon around as if she might hit him with it if he came any closer. ‘And don't use that tone of voice with me in my house.'

‘Right,' he said, nodding as he tried to get his head around this news. Maybe he did need some ice-cream. ‘So when were you planning on telling me?'

She shrugged and gobbled some more ice-cream. The way she was eating, the tub wouldn't last the hour. ‘You made it pretty clear you didn't want anything more to do with me,' she mumbled through her mouthful. ‘I assumed the same went for little people.'

‘How dare you assume anything about me. What do you think? I'd shirk my responsibilities? What kind of bloke do you think I am?'

She glared right back. ‘How the hell do I know? We had one night together.'

That was true, but it had been a night he'd thought about ever since.

The problem wasn't only a baby that had the potential to steal his heart. It was that he thought Simone might already be halfway there. And dammit, he didn't want that.

‘You told me you were safe,' he accused, regretting the words the moment they were out of his mouth.

The spoon froze midway between the tub and her mouth. She raised her eyebrow and gave him a look no man ever wants from a woman. ‘You don't want to start down that road, buster. As you so aptly taught me, it takes two to tango. You were very much present and accountable the night this little bundle was conceived.'

This time she dumped the spoon back in the tub and placed her hands on her stomach in the way pregnant women often do. There was no evidence of pregnancy there but his chest tightened at the vision of what she might look like seven or eight months from today.

A baby.
Oh God, he was never going to sleep again.

‘Look. I don't need your crap today. I've already had Frankie's.' Simone's chair scraped against the tiles as she stood and set her hands on her hips. ‘I've done this twice before on my own and I'm quite happy to do it again, so go.'

‘Simone,' he pleaded as she thrust her finger in the direction of the front door.

‘You know the way out!' she yelled, her cheeks red with fury. ‘What are you waiting for? I'm giving you permission to leave and not come back. Pretend you never met me and retreat to your solitary existence. Go!'

Go?
Before he fell any harder for Simone and before the baby became real to him. Angus considered her offer for all of two seconds, then turned for the door and hurried back out the way he'd come in. He jumped in the ute and reversed out the drive, narrowly missing the Pajero in his haste to get away.

* * *

Simone waited until she heard Angus's ute start up, then retrieved the spoon from the ice-cream and started to eat again. That was two people she'd argued with and tossed out of her house in one day. God help the next person who came knocking!

Her bravado lasted about as long as the ice-cream.
What a fucking coward
, she thought, as she swallowed the last mouthful. She recalled the expression on his face when she'd confirmed she was pregnant and then again when she'd told him he was off the hook. She hadn't been so naïve as to imagine that news of a baby would have him dropping to his knee and proposing marriage. Hell, until that morning, they'd only met each other three times, but each of those times she'd felt an intense connection she hadn't felt with anyone since Jason. And yes, she'd thought that once they got past the fact she'd dated Logan first, maybe down the track they could have a future.

But his reaction just now was about as bad as it could get and had dashed all such fantasies. He'd all but accused her of getting pregnant on purpose.

As if she
wanted
to raise another child all by herself. Because, oh yeah, doing so was a walk in the park, a piece of cake, easy as pie and a whole load of other stupid clichés.
Not
. And he, who'd practically raised his kid sister, should understand that.

And then, when she'd given him the chance to walk away, he'd run. Her fists clenched tightly at the memory. Surely she couldn't
love
a man like that? Surely walking away from a woman pregnant with your unborn baby trumped all the wonderful things he'd done, like make her laugh, rescue her teenage daughter from possible death, and give her toe-curling orgasms. Yes, there were so many things that ranked higher than those.

So why did his departure hurt so bloody much? She stared into the empty tub of ice-cream and, despite her best intentions not to cry over a man who didn't deserve the time or effort, she began to sob; big, heavy tears that shook her whole body and wreaked havoc with her breathing. In the absence of an actual box of tissues, she stumbled into the bathroom, slid to the floor and tugged on the toilet roll, using it like a continuous hanky to wipe her eyes.

Could she have done something differently? Broken the news to him more gently? Not been on the defensive from the start? Maybe, but after her horrible argument with Frankie, in which she'd said so many things she didn't mean, she'd been all off-kilter. Not at all in the right headspace to have a civilised conversation with the father of her unexpected baby. Perhaps she shouldn't have given him such an easy out. Maybe she should have demanded that he step up to the plate and at least pay maintenance, but she didn't want that for herself or her child. She didn't want her baby to feel like it was a burden to anyone and she certainly didn't want a man who was with her simply because he felt obliged.

Why did everything have to be such a mess? Why couldn't Angus want her, and the baby, as much as she wanted him?

Although Logan had told her his brother was practically a hermit, happy to live in his own little world, she'd spent the last couple of weeks fantasising that she would be the one to draw him out of his shell. She was probably the most stupid woman on the planet.

Yanking off another length of toilet paper, she sniffed again and blew her nose hard. She craved the company of her sister, who would wrap her arms around her and say all the right things. But Frankie probably didn't want to talk to her any more than Angus did right now. And calling her mum wasn't an option, because once she'd explained, Ruth would likely side with Frankie.

Simone had never felt more lonely in her life—even in those dark, dark times after Jason died, Frankie had always been there with some sort of sixth sense about what she needed. The sad thing was, Simone didn't really care about Frankie getting together with Logan. Hadn't she realised at the wedding that those two were perfect for each other? She didn't begrudge her sister's happiness, it was simply that she'd expected sympathy, understanding and support and when she hadn't got any of those things, she'd snapped. She'd lashed out in a way she'd never have done if she wasn't already an emotional wreck.

In a matter of hours she'd offended her sister, perhaps irrevocably, and given her baby's father permission to walk out of their lives. What the hell would she tell the child when it started asking questions?

‘Oh God, what have I done?' she sobbed, thinking what a pathetic sight she must be, sitting on cold, hard tiles, leaning against the toilet bowl, snivelling into double-ply toilet tissue. Thank goodness the girls were still at school.

Late Monday afternoon, Frankie had just arrived home from the café when a knock sounded on her front door. She glanced down at Fred and George, who were winding around her legs, demanding dinner and attention.

‘That better not be Simmo,' she told them. Tired of her phone ringing every fifteen minutes for the last couple of hours, she'd eventually turned it off, hoping her sister would get the message. Annoyed, she headed back to the front door, fully prepared for confrontation, but was pleasantly surprised when she opened it to find Logan standing on her porch—his laptop bag slung over his shoulder, a fully stuffed suitcase at his feet and a disheartened expression on his face. In all her anger, she'd forgotten he'd promised to drop by after work.

‘I'm not moving in.' He gestured to his stuff. ‘But I just need a place to stay for a couple of nights while I make other arrangements.'

In reply, she reached out, grabbed him by his collar and yanked him against her, kissing him hard on the lips and then sliding her tongue in to taste him. She'd never been happier to see anyone in all her twenty-eight years and she didn't care how many local gossips saw them on her porch, making hay.

‘You can stay as long as you like,' she said, when they finally broke apart to breathe. With him around, Simone was less likely to barge her way in and demand Frankie's attention. Of course, there were also a zillion other reasons why she wanted him here. ‘I'm so happy to see you.'

‘Me too.' His dejected expression transformed into a smile as he took the hand she offered, picked up his suitcase with the other one and followed her inside.

‘How was your interview?' she asked as she closed the door behind them.

‘Not bad. Was a bit hard to concentrate.' He took off his laptop bag, dumped it on the floor next to his suitcase and looked around. ‘This is a great place. Love that wallpaper. It's warm but also really modern.'

‘Thanks.' It was weird to think he'd never been here before, when in so many ways it felt like they'd been together forever. ‘Renovating has been my project for the last little while, but I still have to save up to get the bathroom and kitchen done.'

‘And they must be Fred and George?' Logan stooped and peered under the side table in the hallway, where two little furry heads were only just visible, peeking out. He held out his hand and tried to lure them out with soft noises and Frankie looked on, amused. She didn't get many visitors—apart from Simone and the girls—so the cats were wary of strangers. They had a number of favourite hiding spots they retreated to whenever someone came to the door.

Yet, to her great surprise, both Fred and George emerged within a few seconds and rubbed themselves against Logan's hand. ‘I've always been a dog person,' he confessed as the cats allowed him to scoop them up. He held one in each arm and smiled down at them. ‘But I've gotta admit, these guys are pretty damn cute.'

‘I think so,' Frankie said, stealing Fred off him and cuddling the cat close. ‘They're also hungry. Come through to the kitchen and I'll feed them or we'll never get any peace.'

‘What do you feel like for dinner?' she asked, when the cats were finally munching their smelly wet food and Logan was sitting at the table sipping a beer.

‘You,' he said, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively as he grabbed her hand and pulled her onto his lap. He kissed her neck, then travelled lower to her cleavage, and all thoughts of cooking flew out the window as warmth filled her from head to toe.