Читать книгу Gold Coast Angels: How to Resist Temptation - Amy Andrews - Страница 10

CADE GOT HIS WISH on Sunday night when he knocked on Callie’s door and she stepped out in a pair of faded denim jeans that hugged her butt, legs and hips to perfection. She wore a dark purple blouse that was firm around her breasts and rode low on her cleavage but was loose around her torso, the hem fluttering to her waist. Her hair was down, framing her face and falling lightly on her shoulders.

Dark kohl and mascara highlighted those amazing eyes and a touch of gloss on her mouth made sure he’d be looking nowhere else.

He gave a low whistle and she laughed but it sounded strained and didn’t reach her eyes. ‘And to think you passed this up,’ she quipped, as she pulled her door closed and brushed past him.

‘Can I renege?’ he teased as he followed her. The swing of her denim-covered buttocks was a thing of beauty.

‘Nope. You blew it,’ she said. ‘And now you’ll always wonder.’

Cade grinned. Well, she was definitely right about that. Although, to be fair, he’d spent a lot of time wondering before tonight, as well.

They travelled down in the lift to the underground car park in companionable silence and it wasn’t until they were on the road that either of them spoke again.

‘Getting used to driving on the left?’ Callie asked.

When he’d offered to drive to the restaurant she’d agreed. Tonight was probably going to require a degree of alcoholic fortification just to get through it, so having a designated driver was one less thing to worry about.

Cade nodded. ‘Yep. Only driven down the wrong side a few times.’

Callie blanched. ‘A few times?’

He shrugged. ‘It was back at the beginning.’

‘Well, your car seems to have escaped unscathed.’

‘Yep.’ He smiled, stroking the sports steering wheel of the sleek RX8. ‘No harm done.’

She looked appreciatively around the interior of his car, which still had that new smell. ‘Just as well,’ she murmured.

‘You like?’

Callie looked at him. She liked everything she saw. Everything. Cade was looking whistle-worthy tonight in his blue jeans and trendy T-shirt. ‘Very nice. The RX8 is a great vehicle. Great torque.’

‘Ah, a woman who knows cars and looks good in jeans,’ he teased. ‘I may just have hit the jackpot.’

Callie smiled, ignoring his flirty tone. Cade obviously felt safe with her, knowing there was no romantic intent behind their date. His wolf-whistle and his flirty lines were probably just backed up from months out of the dating scene. She wasn’t about to let any of it go to her head.

‘I prefer retro myself,’ she said. ‘I have a shiny red Alpha Spider. It’s twenty years old but still looks amazing and runs like a dream.’

‘Well, now, I’m gonna have to go for a spin in that some time.’

‘I’m sure it can be arranged,’ Callie said.

There was another minute’s silence as Cade negotiated some traffic. When he’d turned onto the main road he flicked her a glance. ‘So, anything I need to know?’

Callie startled at the question, her pulse speeding up as she thought about all the things no one knew. And never would.

She understood he didn’t want to put his foot in it on their ‘date’ but there were some things that were best left in the past. And that included her disastrous marriage. Her mother, who was still deeply mortified by the divorce all these years later, certainly wouldn’t be bringing it up.

‘No.’

Cade kept his eyes on the road. ‘Well, how about the basics? Like where you’re from? At The beach you said you were from a small country town.’

Callie nodded, her heart rate settling. The basics she could cope with. ‘Yes. Broken Hill. It’s in far western New South Wales, about a ten-hour drive from Sydney.’

‘That’s a mining town, isn’t it? That’s where BHP originated?’

Callie nodded, impressed by his knowledge. Although Cade looked like someone who knew the stock market and BHP shares were as blue ribbon as they came. ‘Yes. That’s right.’

‘So your dad…He’s a miner?’

‘Yep. As was his dad before him and his before him. As are my three older brothers.’

Three brothers? That certainly explained why she got on so well with her male colleagues—but Cade would have bet that Callie was an only child. There was a distance she put around herself that he understood. Alex had always had it. ‘And your mother?’

Callie thought about all the things she wanted to say about her mother but wouldn’t. She looked out the window. ‘She’s a housewife.’

Cade thought he heard disapproval. He approached his next query gently. ‘If you don’t mind an observation,’ he said, pausing as he searched for the right way to say what he needed to say. ‘I get the impression that you and your mother don’t really…get on? Is there something I should know there?’

Callie almost laughed at the understatement but she felt too brittle. Like she might just snap in two if she let even the smallest laugh pass her lips.

‘No. It’s fine,’ she said, turning her head to look at him. ‘We get on. I love her. I love them both.’

‘Okay…’

Callie knew from Alex that Cade’s childhood hadn’t exactly been a picnic, so she felt she was being trivial even talking about the topic. She’d had a family who loved her, a roof over her head, food in her stomach and a small-town network that looked after their own.

Much more than Cade and Alex had ever known.

‘They just weren’t very encouraging or supportive of my…choices, that’s all. They never said to me, “Girl, you’ve got a brain in your head, you need to go to university”. They wanted me to stay in Broken Hill. Get married. Have children.’

All the things she’d wanted, too. Wanted with all the zeal and passion of a silly seventeen-year-old desperately in love with her high-school sweetheart.

But nothing had ever prepared her for what had happened after the big white wedding. She’d never known her coveted white picket fence could become a lonely prison, trapping her inside, too confused and inexperienced to know how to fix it.

‘So…you left to do medicine and that caused a rift?’

Callie almost laughed out loud at the abbreviated version of the worst couple years of her life. ‘Yes,’ she said, as she turned her head to look out the window again.

Her brevity spoke volumes and Cade didn’t have to be psychic to know that Callie didn’t want to talk about it. Something he understood intimately. But he also understood family breakdown and estrangement, and from what little she’d told him she didn’t have a lot to complain about.

‘They must be proud of you, though,’ he probed. What he’d have given to have heard his father say, I’m proud of you.

‘They are, I guess, in their own way. They just…don’t understand me.’

Irritation spiked in Cade’s bloodstream. Having grown up in a completely dysfunctional household himself, he didn’t think Callie realised how lucky she was to have not just two parents who loved her but the support of an entire community. And if this had been a real date he’d have shut his mouth and thought of the pay-off at the end of the night.

But as this night wasn’t going to end up between the sheets maybe it wouldn’t hurt for Callie to have a reality check. ‘Some people would say you’ve had it pretty good.’

Callie looked back at the terse note in his voice, which made his accent clipped. His profile was hostile, his jaw set into a rigid line. ‘I’m sorry, Cade,’ she said, reaching her hand out and placing it on his forearm. Even it felt tense beneath her fingers. ‘I know things were…rough for you growing up. I do know how good I had it.’ She gave him a rueful smile. ‘Just ignore my whiny little princess act.’

Cade looked briefly down at her hand, warm on his arm. She knew things were rough? What exactly had Alex told her? Alex, who was even more tight-lipped about their past than he was.

Just how close had his brother been to Callie?

‘There it is,’ she said, yanking him back from the hiss and bubble of troubling questions that swirled in his brain. She removed her hand and pointed to the beachside restaurant and Cade flicked on the indicator and turned into the car park.

Callie was nervous as she walked into the restaurant. Apart from semi-regular phone calls, it had been three years since she’d seen her parents. She’d gone back to Broken Hill for Christmas and had stuck out like a sore thumb next to her blissfully married brothers with their perfect wives and multiple children.

It had driven her nuts that she was a highly successful neonatal specialist, at the top of her field, but somehow she’d felt like the family failure. The black sheep. And the ‘when are you going to get married and have some kids of your own?’ questions just hadn’t stopped. Seriously—was it that wrong not to want to be a baby machine?

Her parents hadn’t arrived yet and a waiter showed them to a table set against the massive floor-to-ceiling windows. A waiter who’d smiled very appreciatively at Callie after giving her a rather thorough once-over. Callie smiled back. She’d deliberately worn clothes that said ‘I’m a sexually confident woman’ because it was important for her to project that. God knew, a few hours in the company of her parents would certainly suck her back to a time when She hadn’t been.

A dark, painful time.

So she needed that. She needed the waiter flirting with her. And the two guys at the bar checking out her butt. Cade sure as hell wasn’t interested and tonight she needed to know she was attractive to men, that she was desired.

Because her parents were about to remind her of a time when she hadn’t been, and that always messed with her carefully constructed control.

Callie ordered a glass of red wine and Cade a light beer, which were promptly delivered by another waiter who looked at her with invitation in his eyes. Aware that Cade was watching, she let her gaze linger on the twenty-something for a moment before she turned to stare out the window. She took her first fortifying sip. Between the alcohol and sufficient male adoration she figured she could get through the evening.

The sun was setting but it was still light enough to see the whitecaps of the choppy ocean and the surf rolling in.

‘Great view,’ Cade said.

Callie dragged her gaze back inside. ‘Yes,’ she said, fiddling with the stem of her wineglass and then her cutlery. The waiting was killing her. She looked at Cade, desperate for a distraction. ‘You don’t look much like Alex,’ she said.

Cade felt the usual tension creep along his shoulders and crawl up his neck whenever talk turned too close to home. ‘That would be because we’re stepbrothers. Not blood relations. My father married his mother.’

‘Oh. Sorry. For some reason I always thought you were half-brothers.’

The less he said the better. ‘No.’

Callie nodded. ‘So it was your father who…?’ She trailed off, not knowing how to put it. Not knowing how Cade felt about it.

‘Used Alex as a punching bag?’ he supplied, the memories leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

Callie refused to flinch at the harshness of his tone. ‘Yes.’

Cade’s reply was clipped. ‘Yes.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘That couldn’t have been easy. Growing up like that.’

Cade snorted. That was an understatement. After Alex had been pushed to his limits and left, violence had given way to neglect as his father had drunk himself into a stupor. That’s when Cade had found solace and financial security in the bored, pampered women of Beverly Hills.

‘I’m curious about your relationship with Alex. Did you and he…?’

Callie kicked up an eyebrow. Did Cade seriously think she would kiss and tell? ‘We’re friends,’ she said firmly. Yes, they’d had a crazy one-night stand, but they’d realised fairly quickly it had been a mistake and that they were better friends than lovers.

And that was none of Cade’s damn business.

‘And that’s it?’ Cade frowned. ‘It’s just that…Alex is a very private person. I can’t begin to imagine him confiding in anybody about what happened to him…to us. He nearly lost Layla because he couldn’t open up to her.’

Callie shrugged. She and Alex had just clicked. Maybe it had been their turbulent pasts and their insistence on absolute privacy that had drawn them together and cemented their friendship. Maybe it had been their feisty, outspoken personalities. Maybe it had been their utter respect for each other’s professional abilities.

Or a combination of all of them.

But to this day she still spoke to him more than she did to her own family. And she missed him and his pragmatism more than she ever would have thought possible. She was happy that he’d found love with Layla. Genuinely happy.

‘He never said very much,’ she clarified. Neither had she. They just weren’t spleen-venting kind of people. But they’d opened up more to each other than they’d ever done with anyone else. ‘I learned more from what he didn’t say.’

‘He told you he was a victim of domestic violence,’ Cade said. ‘That’s big for him.’ He’d barely even spoken to Cade about it, even though Cade had witnessed it on too many occasions to count.

Callie shrugged. ‘I think he felt a certain sense of distance and…freedom on the other side of the world.’

Cade was about to push some more but he could see an older couple coming through the doors and hailing a passing waiter. The man had a shock of red hair and a big ginger-going-to-grey fuzzy beard. ‘I think they’re here,’ he said.

Callie turned, her pulse quickening. She waved at her parents and felt a familiar mix of emotions churning inside her. Love, affection, fondness, attachment.

Disappointment. Anger. Regret.

She turned to Cade. ‘Good to go?’ he asked. She nodded and he stood as Callie’s parents made their way over. Callie followed suit and then her mother hugged her followed by her father and she performed the introductions. Cade offered his chair to Callie’s mother so she and her husband could sit side by side, and then he joined Callie around her side of the table.

‘Well, that’s not a sight we see much back home,’ Duncan Richards said as he sat, nodding to the view out the window.

‘No, it’s quite something, isn’t it?’ Cade said.

‘So, you’re not from around these parts, then?’ Duncan asked, as the waiter handed out menus and another smile for Callie. Not that she noticed. She could feel her mother’s gaze on her, assessing her, trying to figure out where she’d gone wrong in the rearing of her daughter.

Callie kept her eyes firmly fixed on the menu and let the men fill up the gaps about where Cade was from and the differences between the two countries. But she knew soon enough the conversation would get around to her and her life, and as soon as the waiter had taken their orders her mother dived in.

‘So how have you been, darling? It’s been such a long time since we’ve seen you. All your nieces and nephews are getting so big. You’re missing out on so much. And Anne-Marie is almost ready to pop with their fourth.’

Margaret Richards sent a strained smile Cade’s way before returning her gaze to Callie. ‘You’re obviously enjoying yourself in the big smoke. Tell me all about your fabulous career. How many babies have you delivered now?’

Cade would have had to be deaf not to hear the brittle emphasis on ‘fabulous’ and even though he had rebuked Callie earlier for her trivial complaints, he suddenly felt very sorry for her. Maybe it was worse to have someone who pretended they cared than someone who didn’t give a damn at all.

Beneath the table he slid his hand onto Callie’s thigh and gave it a squeeze. As a show of support, of solidarity.