Billionaire Bosses Collection. Кэрол Мортимер
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Rubbing them, he tried to frown and failed, his mouth twitching with suppressed laughter instead. ‘Ow, Iz, that hurt.’
‘Wuss,’ she said, poking out her tongue, mischief sparking in blue eyes the colour of the ocean behind her.
‘That’s it. Lesson’s over.’
She giggled and ran into the shallows, kicking water at him as he followed. They dodged and weaved and splashed until he tackled her, scooped her in his arms and made for deeper water.
‘My daddy will get cross at you for taking me out so far.’ She pouted, but there was no denying the mischievous twinkle in her eyes or mistaking the devious machinations of an intelligent, conniving child who’d say anything to avoid a good old-fashioned dunking.
‘Your daddy’s laughing as hard as Nan and Pop,’ he said, laughing when she glanced towards shore and saw he spoke the truth.
‘Put me down,’ she said, pummelling his shoulders, so he obliged, chuckling as a wave swamped them and Iz resurfaced, a wide-eyed, bedraggled imp with a grin as wide as the stretch of beach.
Archer lost track of how long they frolicked in the waves—duck-diving, playing tag—and he didn’t care. The longer he stayed out here with Izzy, in the one place he felt truly at home, the easier it became to let go of the past.
He’d recaptured some of the magic with his niece and he’d be damned if he lost it again.
Now if only he could do the same with his dad.
‘I’m hungry,’ Izzy said, flinging her arms around his neck and hanging on tight. ‘And thirsty.’
‘Okay, kiddo, let’s go attack that mountain of food your nan brought along.’
As he waded into shore with Izzy in his arms and strode towards his family their collective expressions gave him hope for the future. Approval, warmth, relief and optimism—the latter on his dad’s weather-lined face as admiration lit his smile.
Yeah, it was definitely time to put the past behind him, and he owed it all to Callie.
As if on cue she popped out from the main office of the surf school, where she’d been putting a few finishing touches to the website.
He saw her glance towards his family, sprawled across a picnic blanket on the sand in casual unanimity, and back to him, as if unsure whether to join them or not.
Later. For now he had to thank her.
He lowered Izzy until her feet hit sand, savouring her hesitation to let him go. ‘Save me a Vegemite sandwich, kiddo, I’ll be there in a sec.’
‘But I get the last brownie,’ she flung over her shoulder, already racing towards the Fletts, where she flung herself into Tom’s arms.
Archer had never envisaged himself settling down, let alone having kids, but watching his brother and niece rub noses in an affectionate greeting he damn well wanted what they had.
‘You did a good thing today.’
Callie touched his arm, and the immediate lick of heat made him wish he could drag her back to their sand dune for a repeat performance of that time earlier in the week.
‘What? Take my niece surfing?’ He shook his head. ‘I should’ve done it a long time ago.’
‘It’s never too late,’ she said, and the barely audible quiver in her voice reminded him that for her, for her mum, one day it would be too late.
‘Thanks.’ He rested his hands on her waist, enjoying the way they seemed to belong there.
‘For?’
‘For giving me the kick up the ass I needed.’
Her gaze darted towards his family and a small, satisfied smile curved her lips. ‘It’s hard when you’re too close to a situation. Sometimes all it takes is a little objectivity to help clear through the fluff.’
He chuckled. ‘The fluff?’
Her gaze met his and it was as if he’d been dumped beneath a massive wave and couldn’t catch his breath.
‘The extra stuff that weighs us down and clouds our vision and makes us go a little crazy.’
She was something else.
Her beauty, her warmth, her wisdom.
And he’d let her go.
‘I think I had some of that fluff clouding my judgement in Capri.’
Understanding sparked in her eyes and she opened her mouth to respond just as Izzy bowled into them like an out-of-control dervish.
‘I’ve saved a sandwich for you, Uncle Arch. Come and get it.’
‘Now, how can you refuse an offer like that?’ Callie said as she ruffled Izzy’s damp curls.
Izzy’s nose crinkled in consternation. ‘I don’t think there’s any more Vegemite ones for you, Callie, but I reckon you can have a piece of my fairy bread.’
‘Sugar sprinkles? My favourite.’ Callie slipped out of his grasp to hold Izzy’s hand, but he snagged her arm before she could leave.
‘You’re amazing.’
He ducked down for a swift kiss, which resulted in a blush from Callie, an excited whoop from Izzy, and cheers from his family.
Yeah, he definitely had some talking to do later—with his dad and with Callie.
Christmas this year wasn’t looking so bad after all.
* * *
‘This place is awesome, dude.’ Trav slapped Archer on the back as they entered the supply store at the end of the tour.
He’d been hyped, taking his family around the surf school while Callie entertained Izzy—who was demanding sandcastles—on the beach.
The Fletts’ opinion of this place mattered.
He wanted them to like it. He wanted them to tell him he’d done good. Most of all he wanted them to realise he had a lot to give and was a guy of substance—not the flake they’d wrongly presumed.
‘Great job, bro.’ Tom shook his hand. ‘Torquay needs something like this, a place where the kids can hang out.’
‘Yeah, that’s what I thought.’
They shared a conspiratorial smile, remembering their own tearaway teenage days and some of the mischief bored kids could get up to at the beach.
‘I’m so proud of you, son.’ His mum enveloped him in a squishy hug, the familiar lavender and fresh bread scent clinging to her so reminiscent of his childhood he felt choked up.
‘Thanks,