What Love Sounds Like (8 page)

Kade’s head lifted. The fridge door swung shut, plunging his torso into darkness. The remaining range-hood light lit the right side of his face in a soft glow. There was nothing soft about his expression. He looked tired, testy and as uncomfortable as she was about discovering each other in the kitchen.

‘Hi. Sorry,’ she said in what she hoped passed as a light and breezy tone. ‘I didn’t mean to disturb you. You must have had a long day.’

Not expecting him to answer, she walked into the kitchen and made a beeline for she the row of coffee cups that lined a shelf on the large wooden kitchen hutch. A strained quiet stretched to all four corners of the room.

She secured her book beneath her elbow and stretched on tippy-toes to wrap her fingers around a mug. The book slid from beneath her arm to land with a loud thud on the floor.
Just. Great.
She may as well have grabbed a mega-phone to announce to Kade that he rattled her composure.

‘Sorry. Butterfingers.’ She bent to pick up the book and place it on the bench. ‘I’ll heat some milk and be gone.’ Mug in her hand, she headed for the fridge and tugged at the door handle. It wouldn’t budge. She tugged again.

The door jerked open. Her elbow cannoned into rock-hard flesh. Kade’s groan rolled over the top of her head.

She spun around. ‘I’m so sorry, Kade, I didn’t realise…’

She stopped. Kade was so near the scent of his woody aftershave infused her senses. So near she only had to raise her arm a little and her fingertips would glide over his bare chest. She fastened her fingers around the mug to stop them doing anything foolish.

Kade slipped a hand inside his open shirt and rubbed his heart where her elbow had collided. ‘It’s fine.’ Weariness rasped in his voice. ‘I shouldn’t have stood so close. The fridge door sticks. I was going to open it for you.’

He reached past her into the fridge for the milk. ‘Here you go.’ He passed her the milk bottle.

She stepped sideways and placed her mug onto the closest bench top. She busied herself pouring the milk and studying Kade as he searched for something in the freezer section of the fridge. Milk suddenly overflowed from the mug. She jerked the bottle upright. So much for multi-tasking.

Self-disgust swept through her. What was she doing? Since when did she allow a man to distract her? Jack certainly hadn’t enjoyed such a privilege and he’d been the man she’d been prepared to spend the rest of her life with. So why then could Kade, a stranger who’d she’d been blindsided into living with for a fortnight, wreak such havoc on her self-control?

She plonked the milk bottle onto the bench and went in search of a cloth. She had to get herself together. It was bad enough ever since Kade stepped into her office that memories of her childhood had resurfaced. She now didn’t need a far more adult pain to reappear. She hadn’t thought about Jack for a long time. She’d made sure his duplicity and his abandonment hadn’t contaminated the life she’d made for herself in the outback. She’d put her failed engagement, as well as her father’s rejection, behind her. She lifted the mug and wiped up the spilt milk with swift movements. In the same way she’d worked hard to correct her stammer, she’d worked hard to unpack her emotional baggage when she’d first arrived at Whylandra.

She returned the cloth to the sink as Kade placed two plastic bags from the freezer onto the kitchen island. His deft fingers secured the buttons of his shirt. ‘Can’t sleep?’

She nodded and twisted the lid onto the milk bottle. She had to get out of the kitchen before her dignity deserted her like her fine-motor skills had.

Kade pulled up a stool and sat at the kitchen island. ‘My grandmother also used to give me warm milk to drink when I couldn’t sleep.’

Despite herself, Mia glanced at him. A strange note coloured his voice. It was the same note she’d hear when a client was determined not to speak and yet still did so.

‘Your grandmother?’

‘Yes.’ Kade looked around the spacious kitchen as if seeing more than mere cupboards and appliances. ‘This was my mother’s childhood home.’

Mia picked up the milk bottle from the bench. ‘Your mother was lucky to have grown up in such a beautiful place as Berrilea. I’m sure she has many fond memories of living here.’

‘I guess she was lucky.’ He paused. ‘As to fond memories, I’ve no idea. She died when I was born.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be. You can’t miss what you never had.’

She knew she should return the milk bottle into the fridge, but Kade’s matter-of-fact words held her still, words that didn’t match the loss gleaming in his shadowed eyes.

‘Then it’s nice that you had your grandmother.’

‘I didn’t exactly have her either. I only visited Berrilea…’ he stared over Mia’s shoulder, ‘once when she was alive.’

‘Once?’

‘Yes. It was for my ninth birthday. For two weeks I stayed and listened to stories about my mother. I remember how old I was because it was the first and last time I ever had a birthday cake.’

Pain trickled through her. Pain for this grown man who’d only ever had shares not toys. Who had no friends, no treats and only ever had one birthday cake. ‘You didn’t ever come back?’

‘Not as a child.’ His tone grew brusque. ‘My father didn’t believe in wasting time on the past and he and my grandmother didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye. Even being my mother’s mother, she didn’t have any legal right to see me and my father hired fancy lawyers to make sure that any petition she made to the courts failed.’

Mia headed to the fridge to hide the sympathy she knew would be shining in her eyes. She wasn’t the only person whose childhood hadn’t been an idyllic one. But just because both her and Kade’s fathers possessed a skewed view of the world wasn’t any reason to remain in the dimly lit kitchen longer than she had to.

She opened the door, making sure Kade wasn’t again behind her, and settled the milk onto the top shelf. ‘Did you ever see your grandmother again away from Berrilea?’

‘No.’

His clipped answer told Mia more than if she was actually looking at him. Despite Kade believing the past was the past, the hurt of a motherless boy denied time with his grandmother resonated in his reply.

She slowly turned. ‘I’m sorry you weren’t able to see your grandmother again. I’m sure she’d be very happy you’re here now. Especially when you’ve brought her great-granddaughter to Berrilea.’

‘Technically, Tilly isn’t her granddaughter. My brother and I had different mothers.’

Kade bent to rummage through a drawer. Mia lost sight of his expression but had no trouble discerning the brittleness of his voice as he continued to speak. ‘I didn’t even know my younger half-brother had married, let alone had a child, until five weeks ago.’

She placed her mug in the microwave and watched the china go around and around on the carousel. Her frustration at Kade’s ten million dollar comment returned. ‘Unfortunately that’s what happens when money is put before family.’

‘Money has nothing to do with why I lost touch with Brad.’ The noise of drawers opening and closing punctuated Kade’s words.

The microwave beeped and Mia removed her milk. She didn’t know Brad but she’d learned enough from Tilly’s stories to know he’d been an involved and present father. The making of money hadn’t kept him from his family. But it did keep Kade from his. She pressed the microwave door shut with a loud click. Now would be a good time to leave before their conversation deteriorated any further. ‘It’s late,’ she said. ‘I’ll leave you in peace.’

Kade straightened to look at her. ‘I’m not like your father.’

She gave a non-committal shrug and braved a sip of her too-hot milk. A scalded mouth was a small price to pay for not having to give a direct answer. Kade could construct pretty sentences all he wanted but his actions gleamed brighter than every shiny word. In the past three days, he’d seen Tilly twice.

‘I’m not, Mia.’

She chose her words carefully. ‘Sure, you mightn’t be an exact carbon-copy. But even you must admit there are similarities. For one, you both live to work.’

‘I’m not like Langford in any way. Everything I do is to help Tilly. That’s why I contacted Dr. Sheldon. That’s why I’m here in the outback.’ His voice thickened. ‘Brad entrusted Tilly to me and I’ll do the utmost to ensure that she has the best life possible.’

‘The best life that doesn’t include you?’

Perhaps if she held a mirror up to his world she would be able to make a dent in the wall between him and Tilly.

‘That’s right. The most important thing I can do for her is to employ someone qualified to raise her.’

Nothing like Langford. Try just like Langford.
After cancer had stolen her mother, a succession of cold-faced nannies had been her only care-givers. She’d go weeks without catching a glimpse of her father. She took another gulp of hot milk.

Kade’s mouth thinned into a grim line. Curse her fair skin for showing every nuance of her thoughts. Her poor opinion would be scribbled all over her face in permanent red marker.

‘Unless you play an active role in Tilly’s life, whatever five-year plan you have for her will fail.’ Mia’s voice firmed. ‘She needs you, not some highly qualified person.’

‘No, she doesn’t.’ An unexpected rawness scored his words. ‘She’s far better off without me.’

The burn of her tongue forgotten, Mia’s fingers itched to flick the wall switch beside her to see what emotion lurked in his hooded gaze.

‘The only thing that will serve Tilly’s best interests is you.’

He shook his head. ‘I know nothing about children or about what Tilly will need or want.’

’It doesn’t matter if you don’t know anything about Tilly’s world. She loves you and together you can both find your way.’

‘That’s not going to happen.’

She gritted her teeth. Kade might be more exasperating than her most taxing client, but she had to keep trying to do the best she could for Tilly.

‘Well then, leading a separate life to your niece will not be in her best interests, just like it won’t matter how much money you make if her emotional needs aren’t met.’

‘Listen…about what I said yesterday.’ He tunnelled a hand through his hair. ‘I was out of line. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said money was more important than Tilly.’

The warmth of the mug in her hand failed to ward off the sudden chill that numbed her. She should have left while she could. Kade had done it again. He’d hurled her out of her comfort zone. He’d just done what her father never could.

He’d admitted he was wrong.

He didn’t know what was worse. The open disbelief on Mia’s face when he’d said he was trying to do the best he could for Tilly or now her shocked silence at his apology. She looked at him over the rim of her mug, her eyes huge. And he’d thought his shocker of a day was over.

Today’s trip to Sydney was supposed to have been all about re-kindling his focus. He may not be able to control Mia or Tilly, but the one thing he could be in command of was himself. But his day had soon disintegrated into an emotional ground-zero. The further the distance between him and Berrilea the more he thought about the woman and child he’d left behind. His flippant money comment had rattled around his head until it’d consumed every mental nook and cranny. He could no more concentrate on work than find a word to describe the emotion churning in his gut.

Strange how he hadn’t ever noticed how many children filled Sydney before. How many skipped beside their parents in the airport and how loud their laughter was as they watched the street performers at Circular Quay. Strange also how the sight of a woman with long, auburn hair could stop him in mid-stride.

In the end the only way to broker any sort of inner peace had been to concede to his conscience that he owed Mia an apology. So he’d spent the flight home rehearsing what he’d say. But whatever scenario he’d imagined it hadn’t featured her dressed in little but green shorts and a white-spotted singlet top that clung to every full, feminine contour. He also hadn’t factored in that she mightn’t accept his apology.

Mia lowered the mug and placed it onto the kitchen island. ‘Kade, Tilly needs more than mere words.’

He rummaged in the plastic bags before him and pulled out two five-high towers of plastic containers. ‘Do ten tubs of gelato count as proof of intent?’

She stared at the array of rainbow tubs as if he’d pulled Tilly’s toy rabbit out from a hat.

‘I must confess,’ he said, ‘I couldn’t find a grey flavour so had to make do with something called Lollipop Liquorice.’

Mia took the top tub labelled Cotton-Tail Crunch and peeled off the lid to peer inside. Her eyes smiled. ‘Actually, as ice-cream currency goes, gelato is perfectly acceptable. Tilly will be thrilled.’

The warmth of Mia’s approval soothed the dull ache of fatigue behind his eyes. His apology had been accepted.

‘Great.’ He searched through another kitchen drawer and found the ice-cream scoop he’d been looking for. ‘In that case, I think it’s my duty as Tilly’s guardian to be the official taste tester.’

He opened a cupboard to his left, withdrew two bowls and collected two spoons from the cutlery drawer. He offered Mia a spoon and bowl. The range-hood light caught in her hair as she shook her head. ‘I believe it’s milk, not sugar, I need.’

‘You know, I believe gelato is listed as number two in the insomniac almanac.’

She laughed. ‘Thanks for the offer but no thanks.’ She picked up her mug. ‘Good night.’

He’d apologised and she’d accepted his apology. He should let her go. But he must be even more tired than he’d thought, because suddenly it seemed important that he prove to her that he wasn’t at all like unfeeling Langford.

‘One bowl of gelato for a whole day of me not pestering you to use the music room.’

‘Pestering? Is that another word for ordering?’

‘Yes, rather like negotiating is another word for blackmail.’

Her mouth swept into a smile. ‘Two days.’

He groaned. ‘That’s a big ask. Two whole days of me biting my tongue for one little bowl of gelato.’

‘Yes. Take it or leave it.’

’Looks like I have no choice.’ He broke eye contact to pick up a gelato tub. The shadows wouldn’t be enough to disguise the relief that he knew would show on his face. ‘But I get to choose the first flavour.’