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Road Trip with the Eligible Bachelor Page 2
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His lips twisted but the darkness faded from his eyes. His fingers drummed against the roof of the car.
‘But, as I don’t actually know you, and if you do take us up on our very kind offer, I’ll be informing the manager of this car hire company that you’ll be accompanying us. I’ll also be ringing my aunt to tell her the same.’ He didn’t say anything. She shrugged and forced herself to add, ‘But if we can help you out in any way then we’d be happy to.’
‘Why would you do that?’
‘People should help each other out always,’ her earnest eldest son said.
‘And you looked sad,’ Chase added.
The light in those amazing eyes faded again, although the lips kept their smile.
Quinn rushed on. ‘Also, it’d be nice to share some of the driving...not to mention the fuel costs. I’m afraid it wouldn’t precisely be a free ride.’ She’d sensed that would go against the grain with him.
There was a long silence. Quinn kicked herself. ‘I’m sorry we have you at a disadvantage. I’m Quinn Laverty and these are my sons, Robbie and Chase.’ She fished her licence out and handed it to him as proof of both her identity and the fact she could drive. ‘If you decide to accompany us I’d want you to phone someone to let them know about your plans and who you’re travelling with.’
He handed the licence back to her. ‘I’m not given to recklessness either, Mrs Laverty.’
She didn’t bother correcting the Mrs. ‘Quinn,’ she said instead. As she had no intention of becoming romantically involved with any man, let alone a politician—dear God!—the Mrs provided her with another level of protection.
Not that she needed protection from unwanted suitors. She could squash them flat as easily as swatting bugs. But correcting that Mrs might give the wrong impression.
Aidan Fairhall was from her parents’ world and she had no intention of returning to that world. Ever.
She shuddered. Another long silence ensued. Eventually she cleared her throat. ‘I’m sorry to hurry you, Mr Fairhall, but we’d really like to get going soon.’
* * *
Aidan’s gaze snapped to Quinn Laverty’s. ‘If it was just work commitments I wouldn’t dream of imposing on you like this.’ His father would hit the roof if he ever heard Aidan utter that sentiment. ‘But...’ He hesitated.
‘But?’
She had an unhurried way of speaking that was restful.
‘I have a family commitment I have to meet.’
‘Like I said, if we can help...’
She’d probably harangue him the entire way, pointing out all the flaws in his proposed policies, but... He had a sudden vision of his mother’s worn eyes. He nodded. The alternative was worse. He made his lips curve upwards even though the heaviness in his heart made that nearly impossible. ‘I will be forever in your debt. Thank you, I’d very much like to take you up on your very kind offer.’ He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and gestured the manager back over.
Quinn spoke to the manager.
Aidan rang his mother.
As he expected, she fretted at the news. ‘But you don’t even know this woman, darling, and it’s such a long way to drive. How do you know you’ll be safe?’
He tried to allay her fears. Not very successfully. Eventually he said, ‘If it will make you happier, I’ll remain in Perth until the plane strike is over.’ He had to grit his teeth as he said it. He had to remind himself there were a lot of reasons for her anxieties and apprehensions.
‘But you must be back in time for the party!’
Yes. He bit back a sigh. He must be back in time for the party. Still, it was a fortnight away.
‘Harvey thinks the industrial action will be protracted. He’s talking seven whole days. I can’t get a train or bus ticket out of the place or hire a car for the next week. Everything is booked solid.’
‘Oh, dear.’
He didn’t need to see her to know the way her hands fluttered about her throat. ‘This is my best option. As soon as the strike ends, I’ll make my way to the nearest airport and be home as soon as I can.’
‘Oh, dear.’
‘I really don’t think there’s anything to worry about, Mother.’ And movement of any kind beat kicking his heels in Perth.
There was a slight pause. ‘Of course you must do what you think best, darling.’
And thereby she absolved herself of any responsibility and placed it all squarely on Aidan’s shoulders. He tried not to bow under its weight. ‘I’ll call you this evening.’
He collected his overnight case and stowed it in the back. ‘You travel light,’ Quinn observed.
He slid into the passenger seat. ‘I was only supposed to be in Perth for a single night.’
She started the car up and eased it out of the car park and onto the road. ‘It’s a long way to come for just a day.’
‘Two days,’ he corrected. ‘And one night.’
He thought she might glance at him then, but she kept her eyes on the road. ‘I see you’re a man who knows how to make the most of his time.’
‘That’s me.’
Quinn Laverty had a blonde ponytail and wore a kind of crazy oversized tie-dyed dress that covered her to her ankles. She wasn’t exactly a flower power child, but there was something of the hippy about her.
The longer he stared at her, the more he wanted to keep staring. Crazy. He loosened his tie a fraction and turned to the boys. ‘Robbie and Chase, it’s great to meet you. Thank you for letting me share your journey.’
‘You’re welcome, Mr Fairhall,’ the elder, Robbie, said with perfect manners.
He could see the path set out for the boy now—school prefect, school captain, dux, university medal and then a high-powered job in the public service.
What a nightmare!
Only for you.
He pushed the thought away. ‘If it’s okay with your mother you can call me Aidan.’
Quinn glanced at him briefly. Her lips tilted up into an easy smile. ‘That’s okay with me.’
Ten minutes later they stopped at an unprepossessing house and loaded the back of the car with an assortment of boxes and suitcases. The backpacks moved onto the back seat with the boys. Aidan insisted on doing all the heavy lifting.
‘See you, Perth,’ Quinn said with a jaunty wave at the house.
Both boys waved too.
‘Can we play our Gameboys now?’ Chase asked.
‘You can.’
Both boys whooped and dived into their backpacks. She glanced at Aidan and rolled her eyes. ‘They were specially bought for the trip.’
Probably quite a financial outlay for a single mum. Not that he had any proof that she was single.
‘And the deal was that they weren’t allowed to play them until the trip itself started.’
Smart move. Those things would keep the boys occupied for hours, which, quite obviously, had been her plan. He settled back in his seat as the suburbs of Perth passed by one after the other. ‘I know the clerk back at the store called you Mrs Laverty, but I also notice you’re not wearing a wedding ring.’ He kept his tone neutral. He didn’t want her thinking he was judging her or condemning her in any way. ‘Are you married or single or...’
Her brows lifted. ‘Does it matter?’
He loosened his tie a tiny bit more. ‘Not at all. But some people get fixated on titles so I always like to get them straight.’
‘I prefer Ms.’
Which told him precisely nothing at all. When he met her gaze, she laughed. Sparkling green eyes momentarily dazzled him. ‘You first,’ she dared.
A question like that would normally have him sitting up straighter. Instead he found himself chuckling and relaxing back into his seat even more. ‘Single. Most definitely single. Never been married; hence, never been divorced and not currently in a relationship.’
‘Ditto,’ she said.
‘So, are you moving back home? Is Newcastle where you grew up?’
‘No.’
Her
face shuttered closed—not completely but in a half-fan—and he bit back a sigh. False start number one.
A moment’s silence ensued and then she turned to him with a smile that was too bright. ‘Is your campaign going well?’
He bit back a curse. Was that all people could think to converse with him about—his darn job? ‘Yes.’
Another moment’s silence. False start number two. For pity’s sake, he was good at small talk. He opened his mouth. He closed it again. The deep heaviness in his chest grew. Normally he could push it away, ignore it, but today it gave him no quarter. It was this stupid plane strike and the break in his routine. It had given him time to think.
Thinking wouldn’t help anything!
She glanced at him, her face sober, and he knew then that she was going to bring up the subject he most dreaded. He wanted to beg her not to, but years of good breeding prevented him.
‘How are you and your parents now, since your brother...?’
That was a different approach to most, but...The heaviness started to burn and ache. He rested his head back against his seat and tried to stop his lip from curling.
‘I’m sorry. Don’t answer that. It was a stupid thing to ask. Grieving in public must be harrowing. I just wanted to say I’m truly sorry for your loss, Aidan.’
The simple words with their innate sincerity touched him and the burn in his chest eased a fraction. ‘Thank you, Quinn.’
Two beats passed. Quinn shuffled in her seat a little and her ponytail bounced. ‘I’m moving to an olive farm.’
He straightened and turned to her. ‘An olive farm?’
‘Uh-huh.’ She kept her eyes on the road, but she was grinning. ‘I bet that’s not a sentence you hear every day, is it?’
‘It’s not a sentence I have ever heard uttered in my life.’
‘It’s probably not as startling as saying I was moving to an alpaca farm or going to work on a ferret breeding programme. But it’s only a degree or two behind.’
She’d made things good—or, at least, better—just like that. With one abrupt and startling admission. ‘What do you know about olives?’
She lifted her nose in the air. ‘I know that marinated olives on a cheese platter is one of life’s little pleasures.’
He laughed. She glanced at him and her eyes danced. ‘What about you; what do you know about olives?’
‘That they grow on trees. That they make olive oil. And that marinated olives on a cheese platter is one of life’s little pleasures.’
She laughed then too and he couldn’t remember a sound he’d ever enjoyed more. He closed his eyes all the better to savour it. It was the last thing he remembered.
* * *
Aidan sat bolt upright and glanced around. He was alone in the car. He peered at his watch.
He closed his eyes and shook his right arm, but when he opened them again the time hadn’t changed. He’d slept for two hours?
He pressed his palms to his eyes and dragged in a breath before stretching to the right and then the left to ease the cricks in his back and neck. Finally he took stock of his surroundings. Quinn had parked beneath a huge old gum tree to give him shade. At the moment she, Robbie and Chase kicked a ball around on a big oval in front of him. She’d hitched her dress up to mid-thigh into a pair of bike shorts.
His eyes widened. Man, she was...fit!
He shook his head and pressed fingers to his eyes again.
With bones that literally creaked, he pushed out of the car and stretched. Warm air caressed his skin and he slid his suit jacket off to lay it on the front seat. Quinn waved and then pointed behind him to an amenities block. ‘They’re clean and well maintained,’ she called out.
He lifted a hand to let her know he’d heard.
When he returned he found her sitting cross-legged on a blanket at the edge of the oval beside an assortment of bags.
‘Where are we?’
‘Wundowie.’
He pulled out his smart phone and searched for it on the Internet. ‘We’ve been travelling...’
‘Nearly two and a half hours, though we’re still only about an hour out of Perth. There was a lot of traffic,’ she said in answer to his raised eyebrow. ‘And there was some mini-marathon we had to be diverted around.’ She shrugged. ‘It all took time. Would you like a sandwich or an apple?’ She opened a cooler bag and proffered its contents towards him. ‘Or water? There’s plenty here.’
He reached for a bottle of water. ‘Thank you, I’m parched.’
‘But well rested,’ she said with a laugh.
His hand clenched about the water bottle, making the plastic crackle. ‘You should’ve woken me.’
She turned from watching the boys as they continued with their game. ‘Why?’
He opened his mouth. He closed it again and rubbed the nape of his neck. ‘I, uh... It wasn’t very polite.’
‘It wasn’t impolite. You were obviously tired and needed the sleep.’
She selected an apple and crunched into it. ‘Please eat something. It’ll only go to waste and I hate that.’
He took a sandwich. Ham and pickle. ‘Thank you.’ And tried to remember the last time he’d let his guard down so comprehensively as to fall asleep when he hadn’t meant to.
It certainly hadn’t happened since Daniel had died.
His appetite fled. Nevertheless he forced himself to eat the sandwich. He wouldn’t be able to stand the fuss his mother would make if he became ill. And this woman beside him had gone to the trouble of making these sandwiches for her children and herself and had chosen to share them with him. The least he could do was appreciate it.
He and Quinn sat side by side on the grass with their legs stretched out in front of them. They didn’t speak much. A million questions pounded through him, but they were all far too personal and he had no right to ask a single one of them.
But the inactivity grated on him. It didn’t seem to have that effect on Quinn, though. She lifted her face to the sky and closed her eyes as if relishing the sun and the day and the air. Eventually she jumped up again. ‘I’m going to have another run with the boys for a bit. Stretch my legs. Feel free to join in.’
He glanced down at himself. ‘I’m not exactly dressed for it.’
She took in his tie, his tailored trousers and polished leather shoes. ‘No,’ she agreed and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so summarily dismissed. ‘Oh, I meant to tell you earlier that we’re only going as far as Merredin today,’ she shot over her shoulder before racing off towards the boys.
He looked Merredin up on his smart phone. A quick calculation informed him it was only another two hours further on. Surely they could travel further than that in a day? He scowled and started answering email. He might as well do something useful. He made phone calls.
They stayed in Wundowie for another thirty minutes. He chafed to be away the entire time but was careful not to keep glancing at his watch. If they were only going as far as Merredin they’d be there mid-afternoon as it was. An additional half an hour in Wundowie either way wouldn’t much matter.
* * *
Aidan would’ve liked to have kept working when they were back in the car, but he suspected Quinn would consider that bad manners.
He dragged a hand through his hair. What was he thinking? Of course it’d be bad manners. Besides, she and the boys had kept quiet so he could sleep and it hardly seemed fair to continue to expect such ongoing consideration. Especially when they were doing him a favour.
The fact his phone battery was running low decided it. He tucked it away and glanced around to the back seat. ‘Do you boys play a sport?’
‘Soccer,’ said Robbie.
‘Robbie is the best runner on his team,’ Chase said.
Quinn glanced at him. ‘He means fastest.’
Robbie’s mouth turned down. ‘I mightn’t be in my new team.’
Quinn tensed. Aidan tried not to wince. He hadn’t meant to tread into sensitive territory. ‘Uh...’
He searched for something to say.
‘Do you play sport?’ Robbie asked.
‘Not any more.’ And all of a sudden his heart felt heavy as a stone again.
‘Why are you on the television?’ Chase demanded to know. ‘Mum said she’d seen you.’
‘Because of my job. I’m a politician so I go on television to tell people how I’d run the country if they vote for me.’
Robbie frowned. ‘Do you like your job?’
A bitter taste lined his mouth. ‘Sure I do.’
‘What do you do?’
‘Well, I go into my office most days and I go to lots of meetings and...’ Endless meetings. It took an effort of will to keep the tiredness out of his voice. ‘I go on the television and talk on the radio and talk to newspaper reporters so they can tell all the people about the things I think would make our country run better. I have people who work for me and we draft up proposals for new policies.’
‘Wouldn’t being a fireman be more fun?’
‘A fireman would be excellent fun,’ he agreed. Lord, his mother would have a fit! He almost laughed.
‘When you’re finished being a politician maybe you could be a fireman,’ Chase said.
‘And then you could play soccer too,’ added Robbie.
He didn’t know how those two things were linked. He glanced at Quinn for direction. She merely smiled at him.
‘Mum, can we play one of our CDs now?’
‘I did promise the boys we’d play one of our CDs on this leg of our journey. We burned a few especially.’
‘I don’t mind.’ It’d save him searching for topics of conversation.
‘We sing pretty loud.’
‘You don’t need to apologise about that.’
For some reason that made her grin. ‘You haven’t heard our singing yet.’
He forced himself to smile.
She slipped a CD into the player. ‘The Purple People-Eater’ immediately blasted from the speakers and his three companions burst into loud accompaniment, the boys laughing throughout most of the song. That was followed by ‘Llama Llama Duck’ and then ‘My Boomerang Won’t Come Back’.
He stared at her. ‘You have to be joking me?’
‘Fun novelty songs are our favourite.’ Her grin was so wide it almost split her face. ‘If there’s a doo-wop or chirpy-chirpy-cheep-cheep to be had then we love it.’