The Geography of Happiness (Mackenzie Country)

Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

Spencer

McEldowney’s land bordered Miller Station at its southern end, the Tekapo side of the Lane Station turn-off. It would’ve made sense to go to Lane’s first rather than backtrack, but Jules needed his dogs until noon, which left us time to fill.

“Thanks for the invite.” Terry watched me from the passenger seat as we made our way along the station road.

“I’m happy for the company,” I answered, then added, “especially yours.” I didn’t need to look to know his cheeks were pinking. “So...” I grinned, keeping my eyes on the road. “A swim in the lake?”

He groaned and held out his hands. “The colour is only just creeping back into my fingers, and my toes still feel like blocks of ice. I probably should’ve waited until after lunch, but I was sure I’d chicken out if I did, so I just went for it and... it was good. Well, not good, as such, but... stimulating.” He gave my shoulder a gentle shove. “You never know, this new and improved me might even do it again tomorrow.”

I huffed out a laugh. “There was nothing wrong with the old you, if you want my opinion. I happened to find that guy pretty... interesting.” I glanced his way. “I still do.”

Terry’s gaze danced over my face and he chuckled and shook his head. “Jesus, the things you say.”

“And just so you know,” I added, because I couldn’t seem to shut my mouth. “I’m super proud of you for giving something different a try, even if it was a crazy swim in the lake.”

His eyes burned two holes in the side of my face. “Yeah?”

I chanced another look, making sure to lock eyes. “Yeah. Really proud. It all starts with little things, right?”

He watched me closely. “Maybe you should try it yourself sometime?”

I snorted and turned back to the road. “Touché. And yeah. Maybe I should.” I thought of Adelaide and almost winced. That should’ve ticked all the boxes and yet...

Terry turned away to stare out the side window. “Always the consummate charmer.”

I frowned. “You say that as if I talk like this all the time. Like it’s part of some... game, if you like?”

He shuffled back around to face me. “Isn’t it?”

I glanced his way. “No,” I said adamantly, surprised at the sting in my tone. “I don’t flatter people into my bed, Terry. I’m not that much of a jerk.” I stared at him. “Am I missing something here?”

He flushed and looked away, the fingers of one hand tapping nervously on his thigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to come across like that. I was just reminded this morning that you like to ‘play the field.’”

“By who?” I demanded, then changed my mind. “No, I actually don’t want to know.”

Terry looked relieved. “There’s nothing wrong with that,” he insisted. “It was just a reminder not to take what you say too seriously. I’m a bit of a novice in all this, and I get that in your world I’m not... special.”

I was pretty sure I was gaping. What the actual fuck? “Hang on.” I steered the ute to the side of the road and shut it down. Then I turned to meet his gaze, explaining, “I can’t drive and have this conversation.”

“Oh god,” he groaned. “I liked it a whole lot better when you weren’t looking at me.”

“Too bad. Now what the hell do you mean, you’re not special?”

He sighed. “I’m fucking this up. I only mean that you’ve done this a million times.”

“Done what, exactly?” I pressed, pretty sure I knew what was coming but wanting to hear the words.

“This.” He waved a hand between us. “Chatting people up, drawing them in, making them like you. Until the next person comes along.”

“What the hell?” I slammed my palm on the steering wheel making him jump. “I thought I’d made it clear over the last couple of days that what you and I have been doing is not standard practice for me. I don’t care what other people say. They don’t know me. Not really. I don’t open up about my childhood to people. I don’t put myself out there. I don’t chase people. I also don’t obsess about every tiny touch or a single kiss with people who I’m just looking at for casual sex. So, talking the way we’ve been doing is absolutely not familiar territory for me.”

Terry’s brow furrowed, his eyes wide as saucers.

Is there no one who sees me as anything more than a one-night wonder?

“But I’m not—” he began haltingly. “We’re not—I don’t even live here. You can’t possibly?—”

I didn’t let him finish, needing to get it all out first. “In case I haven’t been crystal clear enough, let me rectify that right now.” I took his hand. “I like you, Terry. I like you in a way that makes me want to spend time with you and talk with you and find out all there is to know about you. Would I like to take you to bed? Hell yeah, I would. But for the first time in my life, that’s not in the forefront of my thinking. I just... like you. Do with that information as you wish.”

Terry stared at me for a long moment, then his gaze slid to the side, tracking the rolling tussock to the mountains beyond. The cab fell quiet, draped in dull light from a clouded sky heavy with rain as I waited him out. Waited for whatever was coming. Waited and wondered why the hell I cared so much about what that might be. His short and simple response, when it came, surprised me.

“I like you too.”

I huffed in amusement. “So, we like each other. And the world hasn’t come to an end. Go figure.”

Terry snorted and turned in his seat, putting his back against the door. “I don’t know about the rest of it.” His blue eyes shone with an emotion I couldn’t name. “I haven’t got past the shock of you yet.” He smiled and shook his head. “I’m sorry for what I said, but this is all new to me.”

“It’s new for me too,” I reminded him, watching the truth of that sink into his eyes.

He blew a long sigh. “Yeah, I think I finally get that.”

I squeezed his hand. “Good. Now can I ask you something that you absolutely don’t have to answer?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

“Were you in love with Amber?”

He frowned at the question but answered without hesitation. “No. Amber and I were good friends who kind of fell into something as much from curiosity as anything else. She said she wanted her first time to be with someone she trusted, and I stupidly agreed to be that person. I wasn’t a virgin but I wasn’t far from it. We used protection and I don’t think either of us expected it to be more than a one-time thing, but six months later she was pregnant.”

I blew a low whistle.

He huffed. “I know, right? Stupid kids. She didn’t find out until she was almost four months gone, and then she didn’t want to terminate, even though her parents pushed for it. They weren’t exactly supportive.”

“How about you?” I ran my thumb over the back of his hand.

He shrugged. “I was sixteen. I said I’d go along with whatever she decided. I knew that my parents would have my back either way. When Amber decided to keep the baby, she moved in with us and my mum and dad treated her like she was their own.”

“Wow.” And I thought I’d had it tough as a teenager. “I’m glad your parents were there for you.”

Terry stared down at our joined hands. “Yeah, they were good, although it came with its own set of problems. My parents are what you’d call a couple of life’s fixers. But there were no easy solutions for us, especially when Hannah was diagnosed and Amber left. But that didn’t stop my parents offering solutions, of course. Many , many, solutions and long drawn-out conversations I’d rather forget.”

I flinched. “Oh boy.”

He huffed, “Exactly. It caused a lot of friction. Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents to bits and I’d have been lost without their help, but I learned very quickly it wasn’t a good idea to include them in all Hannah’s medical appointments or share every detail of our lives.”

“It must’ve been so hard for you both. You and Hannah.” I lifted his hand to my lips and he watched with wide eyes as I gently kissed the back, then a tiny smile tugged at his lips.

“It was,” he said, following our hands back down to the console between us. “There were many times when I didn’t blame Amber for hightailing it out of there the minute she could, maybe even envied her freedom a little if I’m being brutally honest. But most of the time I stuck with resenting the shit out of her selfish little heart and cursing her to hell and back for the tough road she’d left us to navigate on our own.”

“Did Amber leave because of Hannah’s diagnosis?”

He shrugged. “Partly, but to be fair, it had been coming for a while. Amber and my relationship, such as it was, began falling apart the minute Hannah was born, and we quickly became little more than flatmates. We slept in the same bed but that was about it. The diagnosis was just the final straw. When Amber left, I was too busy keeping my head above water on a daily basis to even think about sex or dating. To be brutally honest, I didn’t even miss it. The company, yes. The rest didn’t seem to matter.”

“I can imagine,” I sympathised.

He huffed and shook his head. “I doubt that.”

I thought about my blithe response and winced. “You’re absolutely right. If it had been me, I would’ve likely fucked anything that moved as a stress release, if nothing else.”

Terry snorted. “Now that I can believe.” He flipped his hand and threaded our fingers together. “It’s so weird. I feel like I’ve known you for a long time, not just a couple of days.”

“Me too.” I squeezed his hand, and for a long minute we sat staring at each other across the cab, neither seeming to know just what to do with that particular revelation.

“You wanna tell me about him?” We both knew who I was referring to.

Terry sighed and then nodded, and over the next ten minutes, I learned about a talented ballet star growing up in small-town New Zealand. From Terry knowing Judah in high school and the homophobia he’d contended with, to Judah’s illustrious professional ballet career, and then his return to Painted Bay with a debilitating health condition. And finally I learned about his friendship with Terry.

“He’d been home months before I realised I was developing romantic feelings for him,” Terry explained, red-cheeked. “I didn’t know what to do about it, if anything, and then it was too late. He and Morgan were falling madly in love, and I was stuck watching from the outside.”

“You never considered coming out to your own family at least?”

Terry freed his hand and ran both down his thighs. “My parents would be fine,” he said with certainty. “But like I said, I’ve been too busy raising Hannah to think about any kind of relationship, so it was simpler to just ignore it. As for my brother? Kelvin is a good man, but he’s the kind of guy you have to book an appointment with just to have a beer, you know?”

I did.

Terry rolled his eyes. “Not to mention, his success is incredibly intimidating. It’s kind of difficult to bare your confused soul to someone who appears to have all their shit together.”

“Yeah, that sucks.” And it struck me again just how isolated the guy really was. And how lonely it had to feel.

“That’s it. I’m done.” Terry held up his hands, then rubbed them together. “Now can we please move on to the fun part of the day?” He shot me a look, those blue eyes glistening in the dim of the cab.

“Absolutely,” I agreed. “But first...” I leaned across the console, placing our faces just centimetres apart. “You never told me what you decided.”

He arched an amused brow. “About?”

I brushed my nose against his. “About whether it was a mistake when you kissed me yesterday.”

“Oh, that.” His mouth curved up into a slow sexy smile. “I’m still... gathering information.”

“Mmm.” I caught his gaze and held it. “Maybe I can help with your... research.”

He nipped me on the nose. “Maybe you should just shut up and kiss me.”

I grinned. “I can do that.” I leaned as far over the console as I could manage and brushed my lips over his, noting a sharp intake of breath that matched my own. It felt so damn good to be touching him again.

I sank into the kiss, pushing him back into his seat. He murmured something I couldn’t make out and ran his hand around the back of my neck, holding me in place to deepen the kiss. Harder and longer this time, his tongue sliding along the crease of my lips, the sweet taste of him bursting over my tongue, igniting a craving somewhere deep in the unexplored places of my heart.

I wriggled to get more comfortable and he groaned and tried to pull me closer, but the console got in the way. On and on we kissed, drinking each other in until we finally broke apart, leaving me gasping for air and something I couldn’t, wouldn’t name.

“Jesus Christ, what was that?” I puffed, kissing his forehead, then his cheeks, then once again his lips.

He chuckled. “Research, remember?” He gripped my chin, holding me in place so he could kiss me again. “And thank you.”

“For kissing you?” I huffed out a laugh. “I mean, sure, it was a difficult job, but I managed to see it through. I’m tough like that.”

His eyes sparkled with mirth, the colour muted by the shadows to a softer blue. “No, you crazy man. Thanks for listening . For clearing things up. For being honest. I didn’t realise how much I needed to talk about all that.”

I cupped his face and ran my thumb over his cheek as he leaned into the touch. “Thank you as well. It goes both ways. Gil is always lecturing that nobody does life on their own, that we all need a helping hand. I figure he should know.”

Terry turned his face to kiss my palm, and a surge of lust warmed my belly. “He’s a wise man.”

I groaned and rolled my eyes. “Just don’t tell him that. He’s insufferable enough as it is.”

Terry laughed.

“So, Mister O’Connor.” I sat back in my seat and waggled my brows. “How do you feel about pigs?”

Terry’s eyes bulged. “Pigs? I thought this was sheep country?”

“It is.” I started the ute and pulled onto the gravel road, kicking up dust in my rearview mirror. “But Grant McEldowney loves his prize-winning Large White sow, Mary-Beth, almost more than his merinos. No exaggeration. And that animal would give any Kardashian a run for their money in the drama stakes. You’ll need your coveralls because I might need a hand.”

“Oh god.” Terry paled and slunk down in his seat. “I told you I’m not—” He broke off and grumbled something about fucking lying vets and pushing boundaries and then said, “I don’t think I’m insured for this.”

I laughed and reached over to slap his thigh. “You’ll be fine. Just don’t look her in the eye... or mention pork... or crackling.”

Terry snorted. “Fuck me.”

In a heartbeat. The thought skittered across my brain and dived for cover. Oh boy.