Outback Reunion (Bunyip Bay #6)

Prologue

Sometimes Gabi Howard felt like she was living her own personal Groundhog Day. Such was the life of circus folk, and as a performer in the Grand Jimenez Family Circus it was all she’d ever known. Day after day, night after night, week after week she trained hard, worked hard, glammed up and performed the same acts over and over again.

Was it any surprise she occasionally felt a desire for more? An itch somewhere deep inside her to get out and see the world outside this bubble?

What would her life be like if she hadn’t grown up under the wing of the Jimenez family? Who would she be? What would she do? And what would it feel like to stay in one place, to have a home where you could put down roots? The caravan she’d shared with her boyfriend, Dante, for the last couple of years was comfortable, but too small for more than the bare necessities. Besides, they moved towns every couple of weeks—sometimes even more frequently—and too many things would take too long to pack up. For this reason, they didn’t accumulate ‘stuff’, which was what Dante called anything he didn’t deem necessary. Sadly, that included her favourite novels.

You’re just tired.

Usually, it was only on the exhaustingly long days that she felt like this. Days where they’d begun pull-down right after a matinee show, had hardly any sleep and then woken early to travel to the next town where they’d immediately start the build—two more days of hard yakka.

Today was their final build day—the Big Top, lighting tresses, seating, ring area, curtains, Globe of Death and Wheel of Steel were up—and tomorrow would be a full-on day of rehearsals before their first show that night.

Melbourne. Bright lights. The big smoke.

Everyone was buggered, so most of the circus had retreated to their trailers and caravans for an early night, but Gabi felt restless. Dante was already snoring when she emerged from their tiny bathroom, his arm muscles bunching as he hugged a pillow to his chest. He slept like the dead, but she knew the moment she climbed into bed, he’d sleepily discard the pillow and pull her into his arms, unconsciously spooning her body against his. Tonight, instead of changing into her PJs, she pulled on her black puffer jacket over her leggings and baggy jumper, slipped her feet back into her work boots and snuck out the door.

Loud Mouth, Dante’s prized rainbow lorikeet, looked over from his perch in his night cage just outside their caravan.

‘Midnight runner!’ he screeched. ‘Midnight runner! Midnight runner!’

Gabi winced as she pushed a finger to her lips. ‘Shh,’ she hissed. ‘I’ll be back soon.’

In a clear strop at missing out on an adventure, Loud Mouth turned his back on her and buried his red beak beneath his bright green wing. Such a drama queen.

She chuckled silently as she walked quickly through the lot towards the exit, the lights of the city glittering in the distance. Although it wasn’t late, the only sounds came from the show dogs scuffling about in their pen and some moans and groans from the company accommodation—two long trailers divided into bunk rooms. These trailers housed everyone who didn’t have their own vans, from tent boys, sound and light technicians to ‘circus tourists’—performers and other employees who worked with the circus for a while and then moved on. Gabi herself had spent a few years of her teens sleeping in one of those bunks and she knew there was even less privacy in those trailers than the rest of the circus. No wonder everyone here knew everyone else’s business.

The temporary gates creaked a little as she pushed them open and she stilled a moment, waiting to see if a caravan door would open for a security check, but when none did, she slipped victoriously out. It wasn’t like she was a prisoner here or planning on doing a midnight runner, like many in the industry did when they wanted out, but she still felt a little bit sneaky. Circus folk tended to stick to themselves, and Dante and his family would be worried about what might happen to her late at night, walking the streets of Gladstone Park where they were currently camped.

But she’d like to see anyone try anything. Years of training as an aerial performer, not to mention the physical work and heavy lifting involved in other aspects of circus life, meant she was stronger than most men and could easily hold her own if anyone did anything untoward.

She’d only planned on going for a short walk—hoping the fresh air would shake the itchiness from her head enough that she could sleep—but she soon found herself passing a pub and, like the music of the Pied Piper luring the children away from the safety of their parents, the sound of tunes and laughter drifting from inside piqued her interest. She hadn’t ever been in a bar, restaurant or club on her own. At just over nineteen, she’d only been legal a year, and the few times she had gone for a meal or a drink it had usually been with Dante and his parents or other circus performers.

Just one drink , Gabi told herself as she stepped across the threshold. Inside was more modern than she’d expected, with funky bronze lamps dropping from the ceiling and the bar a pearly white with a pattern that reminded her of a waffle cone. There weren’t many people here, but that was fine. She wasn’t here to socialise; she simply wanted a little time-out.

An elderly barman with curly grey hair and a scar on his lip gave her a warm smile as she approached the bar and perched herself atop a stool. ‘What can I get ya, love?’

‘Um...’ Not a big drinker, Gabi stared at the rows of bottles behind the bar. ‘What do you recommend?’

‘That depends on why you’re drinking. Let me guess. Heartbreak? Celebration?’

She shrugged. ‘I’m exhausted but can’t switch my mind off.’

‘Ah, right. Well then, I recommend a Brady’s Milk Punch. That’ll have you catching zeds in no time.’

Gabi had no idea what that was. ‘Sounds good. Thanks.’

‘Hate to ask, but can you show me your ID? Not that I don’t trust you, but the fines are killers if you serve anyone underage.’

She flashed her driver’s licence at him.

‘Long way from home,’ said the old man, clocking the rural South Australian address. ‘What brings you to our parts?’

‘Work,’ she said, deliberately not specific as she didn’t want the questions that would inevitably come if she told him she belonged to a circus. South Australia was where the family stored old equipment and lived during their one month off per year.

He nodded and began to mix a white concoction in a shaker. He poured the creamy cocktail over ice and was sprinkling something that looked like cinnamon over the top when a shadow fell over her.

‘Be with you in a moment,’ said the barman, barely looking up from his handiwork.

‘No rush. Just wanted to pay for my dinner,’ replied a deep voice belonging to the shadow. ‘Evening.’

It took Gabi a second to realise this last word had been addressed to her. She opened her mouth to say ‘Hi’, but the word died on her tongue as she turned and came face to face with his piercing blue eyes. No; blue was too dull a word to describe all the shades and flecks of colour she saw. Perhaps crystal or electric blue was more apt.

Crystal Eyes smiled. ‘You here on your own?’

This might have sounded creepy, but she was too bamboozled by the mystical colour of his eyes to do anything but nod.

The bartender placed her cocktail down in front of her. ‘Here ya are, love.’

Gabi dug into her jacket pocket to retrieve a twenty-dollar note she’d shoved there a couple of nights ago when someone had bought fairy floss—she hadn’t had time to put it in the till before heading back to the Big Top to perform.

‘It’s on me.’ Crystal Eyes pressed his card against the EFTPOS machine before she could hand over the money. ‘And I’ll have another mid-strength, please.’

‘You didn’t have to do that,’ she blurted. ‘I can pay for myself.’

He smiled. ‘I’m sure you can. Don’t worry, I’m not expecting anything in return.’

She forced a laugh as she lifted the drink to her mouth. ‘I should hope not.’ It tasted delicious. ‘But just in case... I’m paying for your beer.’

The barman chuckled as he put a frothy pint in front of the guy and Gabriela thrust the twenty-dollar bill at him.

‘Thanks.’ Crystal Eyes smirked, lifted his glass to clink against hers and then offered her his free hand. ‘I’m Mark. Pleased to meet you.’

For a few seconds, all she could do was stare. She guessed he was about the same age as her although the dimple on his right cheek gave him a boyish expression. In addition to those eyes , he had lovely, tanned skin, thick hair the colour of brown sugar that curled a little at the ends and a smile that caused her breath to catch in her throat. He was taller than her, taller even than Dante, and had broad shoulders, a muscly chest and arms that his t-shirt did nothing to hide.

‘And you are?’ His hand still hovered awkwardly between them.

‘Sorry.’ Her cheeks burning, she shoved her hand into his and gripped, totally flustered by her reaction to this man. She couldn’t blame the alcohol because she’d only had one sip, and it wasn’t like she was a stranger to hot guys. Dante was very good looking and had an amazing body—most circus folk did—but there was just something about this man. ‘I’m... Gabriela.’

‘A beautiful name to match your beautiful face,’ he said, their hands still gripping each other.

It was clearly a pick-up line and a cheesy one at that, yet something about the way he said it made it feel anything but.

‘Don’t let me keep you from your friends or girlfriend,’ she said, retrieving her hand and taking a much-needed cool sip of her cocktail.

OMG. Why had she mentioned a girlfriend? As if she cared about his relationship status! When she most certainly didn’t. Or at least, shouldn’t.

‘I’m on my own tonight too. Was feeling a little sorry for myself and got sick of staring at the walls of my apartment. Decided to treat myself to dinner.’

‘Why are you feeling sorry for yourself?’

He smiled—‘I’m not now’—and the way he met her gaze sent a hit of serotonin straight to her heart.

She couldn’t help but smile back. ‘Why were you feeling sorry for yourself, then?’

‘It’s a boring story. I’m a footballer, but I can’t play at the moment.’ He gestured to his knee. ‘Tore my ACL late last season and I’m out for a year.’

‘That’s terrible,’ she said, unable to imagine taking a whole year off performing. ‘Do you play professionally?’

‘Yeah.’

‘What team?’

‘Essendon. You an AFL fan?’

She shook her head. Circus people didn’t stay in one place long enough to form alliances to a team and were often performing during game times. ‘But I can understand how frustrating that must be.’

‘Happens more often than you’d think, unfortunately. Ah well, it’s not the end of the world. I’m young, fit and in good rehab hands, so I’ll be back. But I moved all this way to play football and when I can’t do it, I sometimes feel a little homesick.’ He concluded with a shrug and another sip of his beer.

Gabi couldn’t help noticing his Adam’s apple as he did so, and it was all she could do not to brush her thumb across his upper lip to remove the froth that lingered there like a milk moustache as he put the glass back down.

‘Where’s home?’ she asked to distract herself.

‘Place called Bunyip Bay.’ He wiped his lip himself. ‘A little town in Western Australia, about four hours north of Perth, just south of Geraldton.’

‘So you’re a country boy?’

He smiled broadly. ‘Yeah. You can take the boy out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the boy. Don’t get me wrong, I love Melbourne and the blokes on the team are mostly cool, but it’s a world away from where I grew up, and it feels like I’m stalled here at the moment, so...’

She frowned. ‘Can’t you just go home while you can’t play?’

‘I go back for a weekend here or there, but I need to be here for my rehab—it’s a full-time thing—and to stay connected with the team.’ He raked a hand through his lovely hair. ‘Anyway, enough about me. Are you a local?’

His hair looked so thick, yet also soft as if he’d only recently washed it, and Gabi couldn’t help wondering how it would feel between her fingers. She shook the crazy thought from her head. What was wrong with her tonight?

‘I’m sorry, what did you say?’

‘Do you live in Melbourne?’

‘No. I just arrived this afternoon.’

Mark grinned that mesmerising smile that reached right up to his eyes again. ‘For work or pleasure?’

The way he said ‘pleasure’ made her spine tingle. ‘Work,’ she confirmed.

‘And what is it you do for a crust, Gabriela?’

No one called her Gabriela—not even her mother when she’d been angry with her. She wasn’t sure why she’d even told him that was her name, but she liked the way it sounded on his tongue.

For reasons she didn’t understand, she didn’t want to lie to this stranger, but she was reluctant to tell him the whole truth. She recalled how she was feeling when she left the caravan and decided that for just one night, with just one person, she didn’t want to be ‘circus’ Gabi—one of Australia’s best aerial performers. She simply wanted to be a normal girl having a drink with a normal guy.

‘I’m in the entertainment industry, dancing mostly.’

He unashamedly glanced up and down her body. ‘That accounts for why you look so hot.’

Her stomach twisted. Yep, he was definitely flirting, and she couldn’t deny, she liked it. A hot flush of guilty pleasure shot through her. If he thought she looked good in her daggy, build-day clothes, she could only imagine the way his gorgeous eyes would boggle if he saw her in one of her sparkly leotards as she hung and twisted into all sorts of shapes on a long rope dangling from the top of the tent.

She tried to laugh that thought off. ‘You’re quite the sweet talker, aren’t you?’

‘Sorry, that was a really pervy thing to say.’ His gaze dropped awkwardly to his drink before he looked up again. ‘Believe it or not, I don’t usually approach beautiful women in pubs. I’m actually quite shy and until recently, there hasn’t been much time for dating anyway.’

She should put him straight—tell him she was unavailable, and this wasn’t a date or the prelude to one, but he looked so crestfallen and almost lost that she didn’t want to make him feel worse. ‘You’re nothing like I imagined a pro-footballer to be.’

‘Really?’ He cocked his head slightly to one side, his lips stretching into a bemused smile. ‘What do you imagine pro-footballers to be like?’

‘Well...’ She smiled back at him. ‘Cocky, confident serial daters who leave broken hearts in their wake.’

He laughed at that. ‘I guess some footballers I know are exactly like that, and some people back home might call me arrogant, but being a small fish in a massive pond put me in my place.’

‘So tell me,’ she said, unable to reconcile the word ‘small’ with the man in front of her. ‘Did you always want to play footy?’

‘No, not really. When I was little I just assumed I’d take over the family farm, like my father and grandfather before him, but as with every country kid, Mum and Dad signed me up to Auskick. I loved it and turned out I was pretty good at it. My dad played for Bunyip Bay until his early twenties and he’s a diehard footy fan. It’s in our blood. Wasn’t long before I knew I wanted to take it further. That I wanted to play professionally.’

‘Congratulations on making it happen.’

‘I won’t lie—it wasn’t always easy. I had to go away to boarding school so I could join a team with better coaches and training than I was getting back home, and there were a few knockbacks before I got drafted, but I’m pretty determined when I want something.’

Gabi got the feeling that maybe he wasn’t just talking about football, and once again she felt that tingle down her back. ‘And were your parents upset you chose football over the farm, or do you have other siblings who can take it on?’

‘Nah, it’s just me, but my folks are really supportive and proud of me. And the farm will be waiting for me when I retire.’

‘You want to be a farmer as well?’

He nodded. ‘Yeah, definitely. I love working with our sheep and even don’t mind the long hours during harvest, not that I’ve had the time to help much in recent years. Being a professional footballer isn’t something you can do for life, so I’m lucky I’m going to get the best of both worlds.’

Funny, no one ever really retired in the circus, and Gabi knew it was just as gruelling on a body as football—if not more so. Even if you stopped performing, you still worked, helping with promotion, selling food and drinks during the interval, working the ticket booth.

‘What do you harvest on your farm?’ she asked, enjoying this glimpse into a totally different world.

‘Mostly wheat, some lupin, but I’d like to look at some other crops once I’m charge and also some different, more environmentally friendly techniques for farming. Just gotta convince Dad.’

‘He’s not keen?’

‘He’s a little stuck in his ways, but mostly, he’s great.’ Mark smiled and tipped his glass towards her. ‘I’m probably boring you to tears with this farming talk.’

She shook her head. ‘Not at all.’

‘Well, I don’t want to be accused of being one of those arrogant footy players who can’t talk about anything but themselves.’ He hit her with a lopsided smile. ‘Besides, I want to know about you. Did you dance from when you were a little kid too?’

Gabi nodded, and chose her words carefully, still not wanting to talk about the circus. ‘As long as I can remember. I grew up in a family of performers and it was kind of just what was expected of me.’

Mark frowned—and if anything, it only made him more handsome. ‘But do you like it?’

She took a long sip of her drink. This felt like such a loaded question, and she realised no one had ever asked her before. It was always just assumed that she was happy with her lot; lucky and grateful to have been saved from foster care or the streets.

‘Yes, I do,’ she said eventually, because she did love performing—there was nothing quite like the buzz she got when balancing high above the audience doing things that most people could only ever dream of. It was the other things that came along with circus life that she sometimes tired of.

‘Do your parents dance as well, or do they act or sing or something?’

‘My mum died when I was eleven.’ The words had left her mouth before she realised she was going to say them.

His eyes widened and he reached out and squeezed her hand. His touch felt like the most natural, yet also the most foreign thing in the world. ‘I’m so sorry.’

Was it the alcohol or the man himself that had caused her to let down her guard? She rarely allowed herself to even think about her mother.

‘Thank you,’ she managed, a lump rising in her throat.

‘That must have been really hard,’ Mark added. ‘I can’t imagine losing even one of my parents now, never mind so young.’

‘It was,’ she said, trying to ignore how disappointed she felt when he let go and nodded to her almost empty glass. The drink had gone down almost as easily as chatting with him was proving to be.

‘Do you want another?’

A little voice in her head told her to politely decline and head home. What if Dante did wake up and couldn’t find her? He’d be furious and the wrath of her boyfriend could be a terrifying thing.

‘I probably shouldn’t—I haven’t eaten much tonight,’ she said sadly.

‘Then we’ll buy some hot chips to go with it,’ he said. ‘But don’t tell my coach. I’m not supposed to be drinking much or eating fatty foods even while I’m in recovery.’

‘My lips are sealed,’ she said with a smile.

And then, for pretty much the first time in her life, Gabi ignored what she knew she should do in favour of what she wanted to do.

When their drinks were placed in front of them, he gestured to a booth in a quiet, dark corner. ‘Shall we go sit somewhere more comfortable?’

She nodded and started towards the corner, her new friend following closely behind. When she took a seat on one side of the booth, rather than taking the seat opposite, he slid right in beside her, close enough that she could feel the heat coming off his body. What the hell was she playing at?

‘Were you and your mother close?’ Mark asked.

‘My mother wasn’t exactly the kind of person anyone could get close to.’

And, as if he could tell she didn’t want to talk any more about this, he changed the subject. ‘If you weren’t a performer, what would you be?’

‘Um...’ Another question nobody had ever asked. She’d never allowed herself to think about any alternatives, but the answer came surprisingly quickly. ‘Probably something to do with animals.’ She enjoyed helping her father-in-law with the circus dogs, and sometimes she thought she loved Loud Mouth more than Dante did. ‘I wouldn’t mind working in a zoo or an animal shelter. Or maybe a vet?’

He grinned. ‘I reckon you and my mum would get along like a house on fire. She’s a wildlife rescuer.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah.’ He pulled out his phone, tapped the screen a couple of times and then angled it towards her. ‘These are some pics she’s sent me recently of her latest rescues.’

He swiped through a series of photos of a middle-aged woman posing with various native animals. In one she was bottle-feeding a joey and in another she was holding a tiny possum in a woollen beanie.

Gabi couldn’t help smiling. ‘Oh my goodness, that’s so cool. It must have been so exciting growing up around all sorts of different animals.’

‘I think I took it for granted and it was sometimes annoying when Mum asked me to feed them or clean a cage when I’d rather have been kicking the footy. We had a kangaroo as a pet for years. Dad hated it because of course to farmers, they’re pests. But Mum is good at getting her way.’ He chuckled. ‘Do you have any pets?’

In reply, she pulled her own phone out of her pocket and showed him the screen saver, a selfie with Loud Mouth perched on her shoulder. ‘This is Loud Mouth. He’s a rainbow lorikeet.’

She didn’t mention that the bird belonged to her boyfriend.

‘He looks like quite a character,’ Mark said as she put the phone away again. Although they were no longer sharing photos, they didn’t move back apart. In fact, it was almost as if there were an unseen force drawing their bodies closer.

‘That’s an understatement,’ she replied, swallowing.

‘Can he talk?’

‘Sometimes I wish he couldn’t. You can’t say anything private in front of him or he’s sure to repeat it at the most inappropriate moment to the last person you want to hear it. And he loves to swear. Got a mouth dirtier than a pirate’s.’

Their chips were delivered and as they ate they moved on from pets to favourite movies, music and deeper things such as his plans for the future.

‘Hopefully I’ll play footy for another decade or so, then head home to Bunyip Bay, settle down with a wife, some kids and a couple of kelpies.’

Gabi laughed at this picture, but despite his jovial tone, she could tell Mark had a vision for the rest of his life, whereas she didn’t think much beyond the next show or the next town.

‘Do you want kids?’ he asked, reaching for a chip at the same time she did.

Their fingers touched, their eyes met, and she felt a literal jolt to her heart.

Oh no , this was not good. The only time she’d ever experienced anything like it was when she was fifteen and had received an actual electric shot from a faulty toaster.

She sucked in a breath and tried to remember what he’d just asked. That’s right—something about kids.

‘I guess I do,’ she said, still not recovered from the feel of his skin against hers. Dante was Eve and Lorenzo’s only child, the light of their lives after multiple miscarriages, and they’d want him to have a family to carry on the circus, but she and him hadn’t spoken about such things yet.

And in that moment, it was hard to picture the rest of her life with Dante when she was feeling so comfortable with Mark and undeniably attracted to him.

He smiled across at her, then whispered, ‘Can I kiss you?’

Oh lord. Her heart tripped at the question and suddenly she forgot about all the reasons she should say no.

This couldn’t go anywhere—she was already in a relationship and even if she wasn’t, their lives weren’t in any way compatible. Allowing this to go any further would be cruel to both Dante and Mark, but almost as if she were no longer herself, but merely a character in one of the many books she read, she gave in to the butterflies swirling in her stomach.

‘I’d like that.’

His lips stretched into a smile again and he leaned even closer, gently cupping the back of her head with his hand as he drew her mouth to his.

Fireworks!

That was the only word she could think of that possibly came close, and once they’d tasted each other, there was no chance they were going to stop at just one kiss. Forgetting they were in a public venue, she pressed herself against him, snuck her hands around his back and under his shirt. His warm skin felt smooth against her touch as his tongue nudged into her mouth and he dragged his hands through her hair. Her senses exploded with the taste, scent and feel of him against her.

This was what the other girls were talking about when they whispered about late-night shenanigans in caravans and trailers.

This was what she’d read about in the cheap paperback romance novels she picked up whenever she could in second-hand bookshops.

This was what was sadly missing from her relationship with Dante.

Her breath was racing and her body sweltering when they pulled apart to catch their breath. And although she needed oxygen, she resented the necessary interruption.

‘Your place or mine?’ Mark asked, no question about what was going to happen.

‘Yours,’ she said, not hesitating for even a moment.

Later, thoroughly sated after what was undoubtedly the best sex of her life, Gabi lay next to Mark, his arms wrapped around her, his hand tucked beneath her bare breast. While he slept—peacefully, if the gentle rise and fall of his chest against her back was anything to go by—her heart thumped and sweat stuck uncomfortably to her back.

What have I done? What had she been thinking? Going home with a stranger ?

And what would Dante do if— when —he found out? She couldn’t lie to him.

Would he ever forgive her?

She’d never slept with anyone but him. For as long as she could remember, she and Dante had been a team. They’d grown up on the lot, been taught their lessons by the same schoolteacher in the mornings and learned circus acts in the afternoons. They’d played and worked together and had been friends—almost like brother and sister—since they were toddlers. She could barely remember when things had changed between them. Being together had just made sense and she knew he loved her.

Sometimes he loved her so much it felt almost suffocating, but that wasn’t any reason to betray him.

Oh my God, she couldn’t believe what she’d done.

Panic, guilt and self-loathing ripped through her. She felt Mark’s breath on her neck and thought of all the delicious things he’d done to her body. Was it worth it? Were multiple orgasms worth risking love and the only family she’d ever known?

Tears prickled her eyes. She was a terrible person. Even knowing it was wrong, she hadn’t been able to resist, and now here she was in a strange bed in a strange apartment with no idea what to do next!

For one crazy moment, she pondered staying right where she was, never going back to the circus. Maybe there could be something real between she and Mark? Could she give up everything she’d ever known and risk a new life?

But then she glanced around Mark’s bedroom, taking in his footy posters and barbell weights in the corner, remembering what he’d said about not really having time for dating, and she knew that staying was an even worse idea than what she’d already done.

So, for the second time that night, she snuck out on someone sleeping.

Only this time she wasn’t running away from her life, but back to it.