Authors: Robyn Grady
‘Oh,
Alex. No matter how far apart we’ve seemed, you’re my other half. You always
will be.’
His
eyes misting over, Alex lowered into the chair and as he and Annabelle spoke
more, for the first time in his life he knew a sense of true belonging. When he’d
finished that phone call, despite knowing the time difference now, he called
and spoke to his old friend, Carter White, and vowed to keep in touch.
He
was finally making peace with himself and people from his past but he wouldn’t
rest until he had at least one other’s. The person who had set this all in
motion.
He’d
given Libby parts of himself he’d never allowed anyone else to glimpse. But he’d
given her much more than that. He’d given her his heart.
God
knows he hadn’t meant to. The very idea was as foreign as it was …
healing
. Although, after their argument
today, he suspected Libby would rather consume hot coals than admit it, Alex
more than sensed she felt the same way. He’d hurt her—deeply—just as he had
Annabelle, and Libby wasn’t prepared to be hurt again. He couldn’t blame her.
But now he knew to the depths of his soul what they could have together. What
they
both
wanted and needed.
If
it took the rest of his life, he wouldn’t take her no for an answer.
‘YOU
amaze me, Libby. So many talents and you know your way around a hotplate as
well.’
Collecting
the plates from her dining table, Libby sent Payton an amused look. ‘Chicken
and roast vegetables aren’t exactly haute cuisine.’
‘It
is the way you do them,’ Payton said, following her friend into the kitchen.
Libby
had invited Payton over for a meal, or rather Payton had suggested they go out,
grab a bite, maybe catch a movie. But Libby had baulked at venturing out in
public. Since breaking off with Alex last week, she’d tried her best to stay
upbeat but, in truth, she hadn’t felt much like company.
Friday
afternoon last, she’d confided in Payton about the goings-on of that morning.
How she’d confronted Alex and things had taken a left turn. Although walking
away that day was the right thing to do, her sense of loss cut so deep that
sometimes it hurt to breathe. Reason told her that she had everything to live
for and yet she had the hardest time convincing her heart to listen. When she
forced her mind on work, she felt in some ways happier, but when she was alone
she couldn’t help but remember and wish things had turned out differently. Payton
had noticed her mood, which was why she’d prescribed some R and R tonight.
While
Libby rinsed the plates, Payton put away the condiments. ‘If you’re not tired,
I could go pick up a DVD. Or we could just talk.’
Libby
appreciated the gesture, but it was getting late and they both had work
tomorrow. She looked up from the running tap.
‘I’m
fine, Payton, honest.’ She stacked the rinsed plates on the drainer. ‘You go
home and get some shut-eye.’
‘Are
you
ready for bed?’
‘I
might go for a walk.’
‘At
this time of night?’ Payton disappeared into the living room. Libby found her
shrugging into her bright pink coat. ‘I’ll come with you.’
Libby
smiled. Payton could be a little on the flighty side but her heart was big and
her concern was always sincere.
‘The
path along the esplanade’s well lit.’ Joining Payton, Libby touched her friend’s
arm. ‘I’ll be fine.’
Payton’s
mouth pulled to one side before she let out a lungful of air. ‘Well, if you’re
sure you don’t want the company.’ She lowered her gaze, then caught Libby’s
again. ‘You know there’s no one I admire more than you. You’re the strongest
person I know.’
Libby’s
throat constricted. She’d always tried to tell herself strength was what
mattered. If you kept that, you could do anything. She was alive and had
wonderful family and a great practice and excellent friends. One day she’d find
romantic love again.
One
day …
After
she and Payton said goodbye, Libby packed the dishwasher, then wandered over to
the opened curtains. Feeling hollow, she let her gaze trail over the moonlit
waters of tonight’s calm ocean. Once she’d been a mistress of those waves, and
when that world had collapsed she’d knuckled down and had built another. In
time this dull dead ache in her stomach would fade. Sometime in the future she
would get over Alex Wolfe and his dazzling smile, his dynamite personality …
the unbelievably beautiful way he made love….
Growling
at herself, Libby grabbed a light jacket and headed out to find that fresh air.
She needed to get over this bout of self-pity, she decided, taking the lift to
the ground floor. Maybe she ought to learn how to jog again. Nothing cleared
the cobwebs and left you exhausted like a solid four-k run. And she really
needed a holiday. Perhaps Thredbo. If she could dip and do the tango, there was
no reason she couldn’t relearn how to snow ski.
Five
minutes later, she was moving down the same esplanade pathway Alex and she had
enjoyed strolling along weeks earlier. The three-quarter moon smiled down, the
powerful ocean breathed in and out, and yet, with all her tentative go-slay-’em
plans, Libby’s heart still felt horribly empty.
Stopping
at a stairway leading to the beach, her heartbeat began to skip. The only time
she’d felt sand between her toes since her accident had been that incredible
night she’d spent with Alex. He’d forced her to face that fear and she’d
conquered it. It had been a gigantic step. Would she ever have found the
courage if not for him?
Libby
took in a lungful of air, and another, then headed down the stairs. When she
hit the uneven soft sand, she tipped sideways but not nearly enough to fall.
Regaining her balance, she focused on her feet, half buried. She lowered onto
the bottom step and removed her shoes.
A
moment later, her toes dug into the cool powdery grains and Libby’s heart flew
to her throat as a thousand wonderful memories flooded her mind … of when she
was a child with her family, then as a teen with the world at her feet, and
finally as a woman, finding true courage again while falling in love.
Gradually
she pushed to her feet, then drew the clamshell pearl charm from a pocket. As
she rotated the piece in her palm, the moonlight caught the stones and threw
back dazzling prisms of blue light. In some ways, at least, she must have meant
something special to Alex.
Hadn’t
she?
A
bus roared past and Libby glanced off to the road. Tonight there seemed to be
more traffic than usual—family cars, lorries, motorbikes. But their noise was
gradually swallowed up by the throatiest, roughest engine ever slapped
together. Libby pivoted further around and peered up the street. Was someone
taking their steam train for a run?
The
streetlights reflected in her eyes but when she squinted and refocused, she
recognised the car. Her stomach pitched. It was one of a kind and she could
imagine only one person ever driving it.
Same
dull powder-blue paint job. Same massive dents and scratches. She took a few
disbelieving steps nearer.
Why
was Alex driving that wreck?
What
was Alex doing
here
, full stop!
The
car swerved into a park and the volcanic rumble from its engine shut down.
Libby gathered herself as a rusty door squeaked and slammed shut. Alex glanced
first at the building, then, as if guided by radar, swung his gaze around. With
half a football field between them, their eyes connected. The next instant he
was leaping the beach wall and landing with an athletic grace and determination
that left her weak. Without missing a beat, he continued his beeline to the
spot where she stood.
When
he stopped before her, looking larger than life and more handsome than she’d
ever seen him, Libby wished she had a prop to lean against. He left her off
balance. Dizzy with a flurry of emotions.
As
a sea breeze tugged at his hair and his billowing shirt, she swallowed against
the great lump in her throat. The question
Why
did you come?
burned the tip of her tongue but she didn’t feel ready to
hear his response.
Instead
she asked, ‘Why are you driving that wreck?’
He
owned so many amazing cars. That one sounded as if it were ready to cough out
its last breath.
‘I
decided it was time to settle up with slices of my past and either unload or
re-embrace them.’ He jerked a thumb back at the bomb. ‘I’m going to do her up
again. She’s still beautiful despite the beating she took. I owe it to her—me
too—to make it right.’
Libby
quizzed his committed gaze. There was more to what he’d said—to the expression
on his face—but before she could ask, he went on. ‘I didn’t expect to find you
down here, walking on the sand.’
She
stole a glance over her shoulder, saw the tide was on its way in, and
instinctively took two steps toward the road … toward Alex. And that was
dangerous. Whatever he was doing here—to apologise again, to seduce her because
he knew he could—no matter what her heart said, she didn’t want to hear it.
‘I
thought you’d be in another country by now,’ she stated stiffly.
Beneath
the moon- and streetlight, a ghost of a smile touched his lips. ‘I have
business to attend to.’
‘Business?’
Holding
her with his eyes, he stepped closer. ‘Of the utmost importance.’
With
her heartbeat pounding in her ears, she managed an offhanded shrug. ‘Something
to do with your aftershave?’
‘Something
to do with you, Libby. To do with us.’
When
that smile reached his eyes, her skin flashed hot. She dropped her gaze to the
wet sand at her feet and held herself tight. His coming here, playing with her
like this … it wasn’t flattering or charming. After the way they’d parted,
knowing the way she felt, this was plain cruel.
‘I
need to go.’
She
moved to angle around him but he blocked her path.
‘Libby,
listen to me.
Please
.’
Trembling
inside, she kept her gaze lowered on the damp ripples left on the sand by the
tide. If she peered into those soft grey depths now, he might talk her into
anything.
With
a knuckle he lifted her chin and, when their eyes met, his searching hers so
deeply, she felt her will being sucked away.
‘You
said yourself. We understand each other. We appreciate each other too—’ his
brows nudged together ‘—even if there were times I didn’t let you know like I
should have. Maybe we wouldn’t share that understanding if our lives had been
spared the tragedy. I wish my childhood had been different, that my father had
been a loving, caring man who had cheered me on instead of either ignoring me
or trying to crush me beneath his heel. I wish I’d known my mother.’ He took
both her hands in his, so warm and firm. ‘And you must wish that you hadn’t
gone into the surf that day. We’ve been dealt some bad cards but it’s the only
hand we had to play.’ His arm slipped around her waist and he smiled softly. ‘We’re
survivors. We brush ourselves off and we find a way to go on.’