apartment in Nelson Bay. He said he wanted to be closer to the amenities—the doctor, the shops, the bowling club.’
Nelson Bay was ten minutes away and the main metropolitan centre of Port Stephens. Fingal Bay crouched at Port Stephens’ south-eastern edge—a small seaside community that was pretty and unspoilt. It was where she and Ben had grown up.
She loved it.
Ben didn’t.
‘Though I have a feeling that was just an excuse and he simply couldn’t stand being in the same house as his only daughter any longer.’
Ben’s glass halted halfway to his mouth and he swore at whatever he saw in her face. ‘Hell, Meg, why do you have to take this stuff so much to heart?’
After all this time. She heard his unspoken rider. She rubbed her chest and stared out at the bay and waited for the ache to recede.
‘Anyway—’ his frown grew ferocious ‘—I bet he just didn’t want you sacrificing your life to look after him.’
She laughed. Dear Ben. ‘You’re sure about that, are you?’ Ever since Meg’s mother had died when she was eight years old her father had…What? Gone missing in action? Given up? Forgotten he had a daughter? Oh, he’d been there physically. He’d continued to work hard and rake in the money. But he’d shut himself off emotionally—even from her, his only child.
When she glanced back at Ben she found him staring out at the bay, lips tight and eyes narrowed to slits. She had a feeling he wasn’t taking in the view at all. The ache in her chest didn’t go away. ‘I don’t get them, you know.’
‘Me neither.’ He didn’t turn. ‘The difference between you and me, Meg, is that I’ve given up trying to work them out. I’ve given up caring.’
She believed the first statement, but not the second. Not for a moment.
He swung to glare at her. ‘I think it’s time you stopped trying to understand them and caring so much about it all too.’
If only it were that easy. She shrugged and changed the topic. ‘How was it today, with Elsie?’
His lip curled. ‘The usual garrulous barrel of laughs.’
She winced. When she and Ben had been ten, his mother had dumped him with his grandmother. She’d never returned. She’d never phoned. Not once. Elsie, who had never exactly been lively, had become even less so. Meg couldn’t never remember a single instance when Elsie had hugged Ben or showed him the smallest sign of affection. ‘Something’s going on with the both of them. They’ve become as thick as thieves.’
‘Yeah, I got that feeling too.’
Her father had come to fatherhood late, Elsie had come to motherhood early, and her daughter—Ben’s mother—had fallen pregnant young too. All of which made her father and Elsie contemporaries. She shook her head. They still seemed unlikely allies to her.
‘But…’ Ben shifted on his chair. ‘Do we really care?’
Yes, unfortunately she did. Unlike her father, she couldn’t turn her feelings off so easily. Unlike Ben, she couldn’t bury them so deep they’d never see the light of day again.
Ben clenched a fist. ‘You know what gets me? That you’re now stuck looking after this monstrosity of a white elephant of a house.’
She stilled. Ben didn’t know? ‘I’m not precisely stuck with it, Ben. The house is now mine—he gifted it to me. He had the deeds transferred into my name before he left.’
His jaw slackened. ‘He what? Why?’
She cut another slice of Camembert, popped it in her mouth and then shrugged. ‘Search me.’
He leaned forward. ‘And you accepted it?’
She had. And she refused to flinch at the incredulity in his voice. Some sixth sense had told her to, had warned her that something important hinged on her accepting this ‘monstrosity of a white elephant of a house’, as Ben called it.
‘Why?’
She wasn’t sure she’d be able to explain it to Ben, though. ‘It seemed important to him.’
Dark blue eyes glared into hers. She knew their precise colour, even if she couldn’t make it out in the moonlight.
‘You’re setting yourself up for more disappointment,’ he growled.
‘Maybe, but now nobody can argue that I don’t have enough room to bring up a baby, because I most certainly do.’
He laughed. Just as she’d meant him to. ‘Not when you’re living in a five-bedroom mansion with a formal living room, a family room, a rumpus and a three car garage,’ he agreed.
‘But?’
‘Hell, it must be a nightmare to clean.’
‘It’s not so bad.’ She grinned. ‘Confession time—I have a cleaning lady.’
‘Give me a tent any day.’
A tent was definitely more Ben’s style.
She straightened. ‘You’re home for a week, right?’ Ben never stayed longer than a week. ‘Do you mind if I make us an appointment with my doctor for Wednesday or Thursday?’
‘While I’m in Fingal Bay, Meg, I’m yours to command.’
The thing was, he meant it. Her heart swelled even more. ‘Thank you.’ She stared at him and something inside her stirred. She shook it away and helped herself to more cheese, forced herself to stare out at the bay. ‘Now, you’ve told me how you ended up in Mexico when I thought you were leading a tour group to Machu Picchu, but where are you heading to next?’
Ben led adventure tours all around the world. He worked on a contract basis for multiple tour companies. He was in demand too, which meant he got to pick and choose where he went and what he did.
‘The ski fields of Canada.’
He outlined his upcoming travel plans and his face lit up. Meg wondered what he’d do once he’d seen everything. Start at the beginning again? ‘Have you crewed on a yacht sailing around the world yet?’
‘Not yet.’
It was the goal on his bucket list he most wanted to achieve. And she didn’t doubt that he eventually would. ‘It must take a while to sail around the world. You sure you could go that long without female company?’
‘Haven’t you heard of a girl in every port?’
She laughed. She couldn’t help it. The problem was with Ben it probably wasn’t a joke.
Ben never dated a woman for longer than two weeks. He was careful not to date any woman long enough for her to become bossy or possessive. She doubted he ever would. Ben injected brand-new life into the word footloose. She’d never met anyone so jealous of his freedom, who fought ties and commitment so fiercely—and not just in his love-life
