with a glass, ice and whisky, Olivia placed everything on the coffee table she’d spent weeks sanding and varnishing to make it beautiful. Taking her mug to the other end of the couch, she sat with her feet tucked under her bottom and flicked glances at her visitor.
Something was going on. He’d been furious when Amelia had been knocked down by that car. No, as he’d told her angrily, it had been the boy who’d banged the car into Amelia. The car was not at fault. Couldn’t argue with that.
His anger had been more than she’d have expected, but there hadn’t been an opportunity to talk to him about it. When they’d realised it might’ve been their colleagues’ son doing wheelies in the garage Zac had turned pale and charged outside to let the battery guy into the car park. Later she’d seen him standing beside her car, hands on hips, staring up at the rain-laden sky, impervious to everything going on around him. When he’d joined her and the police, he’d gained some control over his emotions but hadn’t been able to look her in the eye. After they’d finished telling the cops what little they’d seen Zac had been quick to drive away, leaving her none the wiser about what had been going on. Now here he was, looking badly in need of some quiet time and a big hug.
She’d give him the quiet time by waiting until he was ready to talk, but she’d hold back on the hug in case she’d read him wrong and he took it as more than she intended.
Zac reached for the bottle, slopped more whisky into the glass, and leaned back, his head on the top of the couch, his eyes closed.
It was far too tempting. Placing her glass on the coffee table, she leaned over, pulled him against her, and wrapped her arms right around him. Zac didn’t resist, instead shuffling closer to lay his head on her breast.
She was starting to get pins and needles in one leg by the time Zac moved to sit up. Broaching the subject she thought was bothering him, she said, ‘Amelia’s going to be a mess for a while.’
‘That boy will be a mess for the rest of his life.’
‘It’s going to take patience and counselling, yes, but his parents will be there for him all the way. He’ll make it. Hopefully he learned a huge lesson today.’ Though what the kid had been thinking, taking the car for a spin in a packed garage, was beyond her.
Zac leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, the glass between his hands turning back and forth. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. I do.’
Olivia leaned closer to place her hand on his thigh, her shoulder against his upper arm. ‘Tell me.’
She said it so quietly that at first she didn’t think he’d heard, but as she was about to repeat herself he said, ‘I’ve been there.’
‘Oh, Zac.’ Her heart broke for the sadness and despair in those words.
‘My brother’s in a wheelchair. Because of me.’
She closed her eyes. The pain in Zac’s face was too much. He hurt big-time. The load of guilt he carried must crush him at times. Tonight was one of those times. Today’s event had brought back the memories in full colour. She opened her eyes and tried to eyeball him. ‘Zac, I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t give me any platitudes, CC. I couldn’t stand that.’
‘You’ve heard them all before, huh?’
‘Every last one.’ He stared into his glass, the liquid golden in the light thrown by the fire. ‘I prefer honesty and you’ve never given me anything else so please don’t change tonight. No “Mark’s doing fine, it’s okay”. No “You’re forgiven so get on with your life as though it didn’t happen”.’ The warning was issued softly, which made it all the more real.
What the heck was she supposed to say if he didn’t want to talk about it? Or did he want to say what had happened to cause his brother’s injuries but couldn’t get the words out? Had he changed his mind about telling her anything more? Her mind was a jumble of questions and emotions. She wanted to help him, but Zac wasn’t one to ask for help. Or was that what he’d done by turning up on her doorstep?
The doorbell ringing was a welcome interruption while she tried to work out where to go with this. Grabbing the money she’d put out earlier, she went to get dinner.
Zac stood up as she returned to the sitting room. ‘I’ll head away and leave you in peace.’
‘You’re welcome to share this. I never eat more than half.’ Though tonight she might’ve, considering the state her stomach was in. ‘Sit down, Zac. I’ll get some napkins and plates.’
‘You want anything stronger than tea to drink?’
Was that a Yes, I’ll stay? ‘No, thanks.’
‘You’re cautious with your drinks, aren’t you?’ Zac smiled half-heartedly. ‘Afraid of making an idiot of yourself?’
‘Absolutely.’ Rejoining him on the couch, she sighed. ‘Life when I was younger was chaotic and messy. I learned to be rigid in my dealings with my mum, school, everything. Too controlled maybe, but that’s how I manage.’
Taking her hand, Zac locked eyes with hers. ‘Yet you’re completely off the radar when it comes to sex.’
She spluttered over the mouthful she’d just bitten off her pizza.
Zac wiped her mouth with his napkin. ‘I wasn’t complaining.’ The smile he gave her was tender, turning her inside out.
‘Maybe sex is my one outlet,’ she managed, holding back from explaining it hadn’t been like that with the few other men she’d slept with.
He was very quiet for a few minutes, then blew her away with, ‘Would you come to Fiji with me if we agreed to no sex for the whole trip?’
‘What?’ she asked.
‘Think you—we—can do that?’
Talk about a challenge she couldn’t resist. Especially as she was struggling to keep refusing to go in the first place. And now that she’d heard more about what made Zac tick she wanted to spend more time with him.
Zac grimaced. The need to go away with Olivia just got stronger and stronger, no matter how often he told himself he was making a mistake. When he’d told her about Mark he’d very nearly continued with the whole sordid story of how his life had changed for ever but a modicum of common sense had prevailed. Fear of seeing disgust in her eyes had locked his tongue to the roof of his mouth.
But if only she’d agree to go to that resort island with him. Go and have some good, honest fun. Even if she agreed to the bizarre suggestion he’d just put out there, he’d be happy. He wouldn’t mind someone to talk to, to relax with.
He saw Olivia open her mouth, heard her say as though in slow motion, ‘I’ll go. I won’t change my mind again. I’m sorry I’ve been vacillating.’
Excitement zipped through him, temporarily drowning out the horrors of that morning’s disaster. They were going to spend time together without the pressures of work; with time to talk, to be themselves, and maybe learn more about each other. ‘Good.’
‘That’s it?’ She laughed, a tinkling sound that lightened
