Outback Dreams Page 11

  Oblivious to her less-than-innocent thoughts, Monty sighed deeply. ‘This coffee smells so damn good. I’ll chuck the mugs in the ute and come back to help you.’

  Faith stooped again, heaved the backpack over her shoulder and picked up the esky. She felt like a packhorse as she stumbled towards the back of the ute, but the physical exertion helped to take her mind off other things. Like how fabulous Monty’s bum looked in tight jeans.

  ‘Here, let me take some of that. There’s no need to break your back.’ Monty relieved her of the esky and placed it on the tray of the ute. He sounded stern but the smile he offered was anything but.

  Did he know what she’d been thinking? Were her torrid thoughts scrawled across her face like badly applied lipstick? Maybe she should be putting some distance between them rather than trekking out into the middle of nowhere alone with him.

  ‘I can handle it,’ she said, yanking the backpack off her shoulders and hurling it in next to the esky. Why was his smile suddenly having such an effect on her? ‘I’ll just get my swag.’

  By the time Faith had thrown her swag in the back, Monty had the ute started and the sun was nudging the horizon. She slid into the passenger seat, feeling the excitement radiating off him. Usually, being with Monty was the easiest thing in the world, but her silly fantasies wouldn’t allow her to relax right now.

  ‘You can choose the tunes.’ He handed her his iPhone, which connected to the stereo through Bluetooth. Getting comfy in her seat, she clicked the seatbelt into place and scrolled through his music, eager to focus on something other than her nerves. You’d think they were on a first date or something the way her heart was vibrating.

  All she wanted was to be his mate, to share his excitement and have a bit of fun together. Why couldn’t her body get back with the program?

  ‘Let’s start with a little Regurgitator.’ Not romantic or suggestive in the slightest.

  ‘Good choice.’ As he turned off the driveway, Monty put his foot on the accelerator and began the journey south. According to the map Faith had checked last night, they’d travel the Brand Highway to Perth and then take the Albany Highway farther south. There were a few towns sparsely scattered along their route, but Monty likely wouldn’t want to pause—except for desperate pit stops—until they hit Clancy’s Breakaway.

  ‘Tell me more about this farm then,’ she said, unwrapping the first bacon and egg sandwich and handing it to him.

  He took a bite, moaned his approval and then laid the rest on his lap atop the greaseproof paper. ‘It’s predominantly a cattle property, but Mack said they’ve run some sheep before, and I probably would again eventually. It’s eight hundred hectares, has a four-bedroom house—recently renovated—three GP sheds, twelve dams and sixteen paddocks.’

  She smiled at the fact he knew the stats off by heart. ‘From what I know of the Great Southern, it’s a really lovely place to live. Much greener than up here and you can’t be too far from Albany.’

  ‘About an hour.’

  ‘Guess we’ll have to meet in Perth for long weekends or something.’

  ‘Yeah. Definitely.’ But he didn’t sound convinced. He’d likely be far too busy managing the farm on his own to get away.

  Faith had never been the sentimental or soppy type, but an uncharacteristic coil of emotion uncurled in her chest, aching at the thought of Monty becoming a special-occasion-only friend.

  ‘Speaking of Perth,’ she said, hoping to redirect her thoughts before the sadness took hold, ‘are we going to stop in and see your parents?’

  He finished another mouthful of sandwich before speaking. ‘Nah, not this time. I know I owe Mum and Dad a visit, but I want to focus on the farm. I’ll call them when we get back.’

  Faith wanted to say that he was lucky to have parents who treated him with respect and were interested in what he did, and that he should make more of an effort. But not wanting to nag, she settled for, ‘Fair enough.’

  Monty eagerly popped the last of the sandwich into his mouth, scrunching up the greaseproof paper and tossing it by her feet. ‘You are the best cook ever, you know that?’

  Any irritation she’d been feeling evaporated at his compliment. It was a rare occasion that anyone thanked her for cooking. ‘I’m glad you think so, because that esky is full of slices, biscuits and cakes to help us while away the drive.’

  He glanced her way and assaulted her with his potent grin. ‘I knew it was a good idea to invite you.’

  She snorted, ignoring the way her tummy tumbled pleasurably at his smile. ‘As I recall, I invited myself.’

  ‘Whatever you like to believe Forrester, whatever you like to believe.’

  Grinning, she remembered the sandwich she’d barely nibbled and lifted it to her mouth to take a bite.

  ‘Seriously,’ Monty went on, ‘it means the world to have you here beside me. I know you’ll give me an honest opinion. If you ever decide to leave Forrester’s Rock, you can always come work with me. I’ll probably need all the help I can get.’

  She doubted that. While she loved the idea of working with him, she knew that such an arrangement still wouldn’t fix the gnawing sense of something being not quite right in her life. Monty would no doubt be a far better boss than her father, but it would just be exchanging one unsatisfactory situation for another.

  She finished her mouthful and struggled to speak past the lump that had parked itself in her throat. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Oh, Faith…’

  Apparently she hadn’t managed to hide the emotion, because Monty slowed slightly and reached out, squeezing her knee in a show of comfort and support. Comfort and support—that’s all it was—but the nerve endings on her skin danced at his touch and she couldn’t take her eyes off his hand. Every feminine part of her body came alive.

  It was a man’s hand. A worker’s hand. Strong, tanned and roughened by calluses that somehow made it all the more sexy. For a moment she imagined what might happen if he inched his fingers higher. If she’d been wearing a short skirt instead of jeans…

  No!

  She yanked her mind from the gutter and tried to focus on what she wanted to achieve on this trip. Closeness to Monty, yes, but not this kind of closeness. Not the kind of closeness that made the apex between her thighs throb with longing. She wanted to ask him about Will, to get him to open up to her the way he had with Ruby. And damnit, it was her turn to speak.

  She shuffled in her seat so his hand slipped away, took a quick breath and tried for a nonchalant smile. ‘I’m fine, honestly. I’ve been talking with Ryan a lot this last couple of weeks. He’s promised me that once seeding is over, he’ll make Dad talk. We’ll sit down together and nut out how we can make the farm work for all of us. And if Dad still refuses to include me, then I’m going to apply for a proper job elsewhere. I’m also thinking about finishing my degree.’

  The thought of the big decisions that lay ahead helped ease the lust that lay within. She took another bite of her now cold sandwich.

  Feeling as if he’d brushed up against a party sparkler, Monty pulled his hand back from where it had fallen on Faith’s seat and stared at the straight road ahead. His heart pounded as he tried to recall if he’d ever felt that jolt of electricity at touching Faith before, but his mind came up blank.

  Maybe it was nothing, or maybe it was simply that she was changing and he needed time to get used to the new Faith.

  The image of her in that short pink dress had made more than an impression on him—it had imprinted itself in his mind. Since that night, every time he closed his eyes he saw her long, long legs in those black boots, and relived the way that dress had ridden up as she’d bent over to play her shot.

  Stop it!

  So far, he’d succeeded in banishing the image with thoughts of Ruby. Sure, their date hadn’t exactly been perfect, but they were still getting to know each other. The kissing would get better with practice, and he wasn’t opposed to putting in the effort.

  Even if he contemplated
a relationship with Faith—which he never once had—there were so many reasons why it wouldn’t be a good idea. She was his best friend in the world. He couldn’t risk losing that if things went wrong. Not to mention that his mum would never forgive him if he mucked it up. But his fingers burned from their brush with her knee, and he suddenly wondered if this trip was such a good idea.

  As if totally unaffected, Faith rambled on about her home situation, and he tried to pay attention. He knew better than anyone what it felt like to leave the family property behind. Although Forrester’s Rock was still in Faith’s family, their situations were not dissimilar.

  He cleared his throat. ‘I know your dad isn’t ancient, but maybe you guys need to try and get him interested in doing something else with his life before he gets too old. Put the travel seed in his head or something.

  She laughed at that and he felt the tension in his muscles wane.

  ‘Now there’s an idea. Once upon a time he and Mum used to talk about going on an African safari. Maybe we can stop in at a travel agent on the way home and I can grab some brochures.’

  ‘Yes, and one for Antarctica. Maybe he’ll get so used to the cold, he’ll decide he doesn’t like the weather in Bunyip Bay anymore.’

  ‘Hah! So I’ll have a brochure about seniors’ tours of the North Pole ready and waiting on his return.’ She giggled.

  ‘And maybe he’ll meet some foxy widow with a mansion in Hawaii and run off with her.’

  ‘Hawaii?’

  He shrugged. ‘I’ve always wanted to surf over there. I figured we could visit.’

  She socked him with a playful punch to the side of his arm. ‘It’s always about you, isn’t it?’

  ‘Damn straight,’ he replied, trying to ignore his body’s reaction to yet another physical interaction, which was all about her.

  Come on, she barely touched you.

  ‘Anyway, right now my stomach is crying neglect. Do you have any of your famous custard and white choc-chip biscuits in that esky?’

  ‘I can’t believe you’re hungry already. We’ve barely been on the road half an hour.’ But she was already unclicking her seatbelt. ‘Pull over.’

  While Faith retrieved the snacks, Monty drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and brainstormed safe topics of conversation. He’d never had to think about such things with Faith before; come to think of it, he’d never had to with any woman.

  She returned moments later with a large Tupperware container, and as she peeled back the lid, the familiar aroma filled the cab.

  ‘Here you go.’ She handed him a biscuit and he took the first bite before pulling out onto the road. After he’d finished the mouthful, he said, ‘How are the catering plans coming along for the ball?’

  He heard the roll of her eyes in her response. ‘The catering plans?’ She laughed. ‘It’s not all about the food you know. There’s plenty other stuff that needs to be organised.’

  ‘Okay, then. How’s all of the planning going? Anything you need my help with yet?’

  ‘Really good actually. I’ve started a small committee.’

  ‘Ruby mentioned something about that. She’s really excited about helping. It’s nice of you to ask her.’

  ‘You saw Ruby last night?’

  He detected the irritation in her voice and decided to ignore it. ‘No, we spoke on the phone.’

  ‘Oh.’ There was a telling pause before she continued, ‘Well, it’s all coming together nicely, actually. The Shire offered the use of the hall for free. Simone Taylor is almost finished with the promo stuff. You should see the poster and invitations she’s created. Amazing.’

  ‘Who’ll get an invitation?’ he asked, happy they were finally talking normally.

  ‘We’re sending one out to everyone in Bunyip Bay and the surrounding towns. Jake at the post office offered to cover the costs of that as his contribution. We’ve written a press release that’s going to media right across the state, and to lots of schools as well. I’m hoping that parents with kids on the autism spectrum might decide to make a weekend of it.’

  ‘Will there be enough accommodation?’ He could just imagine the owners of the Highway Motel quivering under the increased load. Two out of fifteen rooms booked was considered a rush in that place.

  ‘I’ve created a Facebook page with links to all the local accommodation spots—everything from B&Bs to farm-stays.’

  ‘What about organising a bus to and from Geraldton, so people could stay there?’ he suggested. ‘That way you’d have loads more accommodation options.’

  ‘That’s a brilliant idea. I could just kiss you.’

  His lips tingled as he contemplated her doing exactly that, but he quickly moved the conversation on. ‘I’d be happy to look into it if you like.’

  ‘Thanks. That would be awesome.’

  As they continued their journey, Monty asked more about the Barking Ball. He didn’t focus on the autism aspect but on the mammoth organisation that was involved. It was a safe topic—nothing too personal or emotional for either of them. At least, it wasn’t if he didn’t let himself think that way.

  Faith told him about the sponsors she’d approached for cash and prizes, the ideas she had for decorations, goodie bags and the auction. As she rattled off all that needed to be done, more ideas popped into his head and Faith welcomed them. Somehow he found himself accepting an invitation to join the organising committee. He figured it would give him an excuse to spend more time with Ruby.

  They refilled their travel mugs with takeaway coffees in Perth and were back on the Albany Highway before ten o’clock.

  ‘I haven’t been down this way in years.’ Faith stared dreamily out the window as they climbed the hills just past Armadale. ‘Come to think of it, this is as close as I’ve come to a holiday since Mum died.’

  ‘Me too,’ Monty said. Holidays had never been a big deal for him; he’d been far too busy working and saving to worry about getaways. If he closed the deal on Clancy’s Breakaway, he wouldn’t care if he never had a holiday again.

  ‘What was your favourite family holiday as a child?’

  Faith’s question broke his reverie and gave him pause for thought. Holidays had been difficult with Will. They’d never been overseas because he couldn’t stand the confines of aeroplanes and didn’t cope well with being so close to so many people. Once they’d gone interstate—driving across the Nullarbor to Sydney—but having to change motel rooms every day had been disastrous. When they returned, Jenni and Stuart had sworn never to go farther than they could drive in one day. The answer to Faith’s question was easy.

  ‘The few times we came back up to Bunyip and stayed at Forrester’s Rock with your family.’

  ‘Oh, yeah. Boy did we get up to some mischief.’ She moved slightly in her seat, putting up her feet against the dash. She’d slipped her shoes off, and he noticed her toenails were painted a soft shade of pink. So unlike the Faith he knew. So sexy. He shifted in his seat.

  Oblivious to his thoughts, she continued. ‘Remember that time Will caught that red-back spider?’

  He shuddered. ‘How could I forget?’ He still recalled the itchy pain of the spider injecting his venom and its rapid spread through his body. He’d been bitten while trying to get rid of Will’s find before their mum discovered it. ‘That’s one trip to the doctor I hope I’ll never have to make again.’ The antivenom had been almost as bad as the actual bite.

  His gaze drifted again to her toes—part of her new effort to transform herself. He had to admit that any man looking at her feet would want to get to know the rest of her. Was that the reason for these unwelcome sexual thoughts about his best mate? Because he was worried about the type of guy she might hook up with? Was it some sort of perverted protective instinct?

  ‘I don’t know how your mum puts up with all those spiders,’ Faith mused, her words once again jolting him from his thoughts. ‘You were really good with Will, you know?’

  Monty snorted.

  Faith continu
ed. ‘I don’t know if I ever said that, but I admired everything you did for him. All those times you stuck up for him against those bullies. It’s a shame you don’t get to see him more now.’

  He briefly closed his eyes. Those times were hell—times when he, Faith and Will would kick a ball around the local park on the weekends Faith was not at boarding school. Will would watch other kids like they were a freak show, while the other kids thought it exactly the other way around. The worst time, Will had made a dig about one of the boys wearing his trousers too low and looking like the plumber who had come to fix the pipes that week. That was Will—always saying things as they were, never censoring his thoughts like other people did. He’d said it loud enough for the boy in question to hear—a beefy kid with piercings all over his face, ripped t-shirt, jeans and a posse of equally intimidating friends. Will had suffered a punch to the face and a bloody nose, but it would have been so much worse if Faith and Monty hadn’t intervened.

  ‘You looked out for him too,’ he said, recalling how that particular day she’d pushed one of the teens to the ground and near-on knocked out his teeth.

  ‘Yeah, I know. Will’s a cool kid. But he wasn’t my brother. I didn’t have to live with him. Looking back, I can see that must have been pretty tough.’

  Despite all the things she and Monty had talked about over the years, they’d never touched on how Monty really felt about Will. He knew she adored his brother and he didn’t quite know how to reply, so he shrugged and made a joke of it. ‘Wasn’t that bad. At least I had expert help when it came to research projects. Other kids had to look up the World Book Encyclopaedia. I had a brother who knew it practically off by heart.’

  Faith laughed, but it wasn’t her usual deep-bellied chortle.

  Lost in their separate memories, they drove on. Slowly the conversation drifted to other things. They commented on the few small towns they passed through—Bannister, Williams, Arthur River, Kojonup—and then another hour passed and they were nearly there. As Monty turned off the highway onto the smaller road Mack had given directions to, his sweaty hands began to slip on the steering wheel and his heart rate picked up pace.