The Complete Red-Hot Collection. Kelly HunterЧитать онлайн книгу.
to his bedroom.
‘Work problems?’
He paused, unsure how much he wanted to reveal. But Scott’s pushing meant he knew something was up. ‘Not exactly.’
A chuckle came down the line. ‘Let me guess—it starts with C and ends with L.’
‘Spelling was never my strong suit.’ He tried to make light of Scott’s words but it sounded hollow, even to him.
‘What happened?’
‘I don’t know. One minute it was fine—we were fine—and the next…’ He dropped down onto the bed and rubbed his temple with his free hand. ‘It was supposed to be convenient. Fun.’
‘Love is anything but convenient,’ Scott said sagely.
‘I didn’t say I loved her.’
‘Didn’t need to. Why else would you be hiding out?’
Scott had a point. He’d run like a scared little kid, tail between his legs, all because she’d drawn the line at sex. In what universe would he be upset by that? It was guilt-free—for once he didn’t have to be the bad guy.
‘I don’t know if I love her.’
‘Are you feeling miserable?’
‘Yes.’
‘Miserable’ was probably a few notches down from the aching in his chest that had appeared when he’d sailed out of Newcastle that morning.
‘Confused?’
‘Hell, yeah.’
‘Lost?’ Scott didn’t bother waiting for an answer. ‘That’s what love feels like.’
‘It blows.’
Scott laughed. ‘It only blows before you sort things out. Then it’s pretty bloody amazing. Kinda funny how the tables have turned.’
‘I’m not laughing.’
He wanted to throw something—anything that might help him release some of the deadening weight in his limbs. ‘So what’s your plan of attack?’
‘Plan?’
‘To get Chantal back. Jeez—keep up, Brodie.’
And there was the rub. ‘It’s hard to get someone back if you didn’t have them in the first place.’
‘Did you tell her how you felt?’ Scott sounded as though he were explaining something to a dumb animal for the tenth time.
‘Well, no.’
‘Did you even try?’
Brodie groaned inwardly, this was way out of his comfort zone. He was used to being the one giving advice—as he’d done with Scott not that long ago. Why couldn’t he seem to sort out his own situation?
‘I kind of went a little… caveman.’
‘Wow—and you’re wondering why she didn’t give you anything?’
‘She didn’t want it. I could tell.’ He remembered the look in her eyes, almost as if she was pleading with him to leave.
‘She’s got a thing about being independent—you can’t change that.’ Scott sighed. ‘She needs her space.’
‘I know.’
He rubbed a hand over his face. Of course she wanted to be her own person, but that didn’t stop him wanting to protect her. Was it completely hopeless?
‘How did I screw it up so bad?’
‘Is she worth the pain?’
‘Yes.’
The word slipped out before he’d even had time to weigh up possible answers. Uttering that one little word had released the tension from his neck and lifted the heaviness from his shoulders. Was it possible that he was in love with Chantal Turner?
‘What should I do?’
‘Aren’t you supposed to be the lady whisperer?’ Scott teased.
‘I’m lost, man. She makes me question everything and I’ve got no clue what to do next.’
‘What do you do when you wipe out?’
Brodie smiled—he could always count on Scott to put something in his terms. ‘Are you trying to tell me I need to give it another go?’
‘I’m not trying to tell you—I am telling you. I know Chantal is tough. You need to let her know how you feel—she’s not great with ambiguity.’
‘What do I say?’
‘You’ll figure it out. But I would start with an apology. There’s no excuse for going caveman.’
Brodie put the phone down and stared at it long and hard. He would figure it out… But having Chantal meant sacrificing other things. To be with her he would need to be away from his family more. He couldn’t expect her to drop her dreams of being a dancer and move to Queensland with him.
If this thing between him and Chantal was going to work then other things needed to change too.
He reached for the phone and sucked in a huge breath, dialling his father’s number quickly, before he could change his mind.
HIGHWAY SCENERY BLURRED past as Sydney faded away in Chantal’s rearview mirror. Her old car struggled to keep up with the speed limit, but she was moving… and that was all that mattered.
Last night she’d stood tall in the face of criticism from the bar manager, keeping her head high and knowing that she would make it through to the end of the contract like the professional she was. Knowing that, no matter how dire her situation, she was supporting herself.
Thoughts of Brodie were insistent, but she cranked up the music to drown them out.
After spending the morning at her audition for the Harbour Dance Company she’d gone looking for a cheap apartment to rent. Luck must have been on her side. A tiny one-bedroom place had been vacant for a few weeks and the owner was desperate to get someone in. As she’d signed the paperwork a call had come from the dance company, congratulating her on a successful audition.
Now she was on her way to visit her mother and collect all the boxes she’d stored there. Everything had turned out the way she’d wanted it to—once her bar contract was over it would all be perfect. So why didn’t she have a sense of accomplishment and relief?
Brodie.
He’d been the only thing on her mind since she’d walked away. It had barely been three days and already there was a gaping hole in her life where he’d inserted himself in their short time together. She missed his cheeky smile, the way his arms felt as they squeezed her against him, his lips. The unmanageable desire that materialised whenever he was around. How could she have let herself fall so hard? So quickly and so deeply?
Her childhood home came into view as Chantal rounded the corner at Beach Road, where blue water lined the quiet coast of Batemans Bay. Home sweet home.
The roads were empty. Most of the tourists from Canberra would have gone home by now. Work would be slow for her mum… the motels and self-contained units that dotted the shoreline wouldn’t need extra cleaning services now that summer was over. Hopefully she still had a gig with the local high school to at least cover rent and bills. Though there would be little left over after the essentials were covered.
Chantal pulled into the parking bay of the apartment block and killed the engine. Stepping out of the car, she smiled at the way the number on their letterbox