AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Blindly, she dashed through the crowded dance floor. Someone said, “You all right Poll?” and she realised it was Joe, dancing with Kate.
“Fine. Just forgot, I have to get the cake,” she said and fled towards the house.
In the kitchen, Mim and her friend Mira were putting the finishing touches on the cake: a tractor and seven large candles—one for each decade—plus a big 70 sign and a little plastic farmer.
Smoothing down her dress with palms that trembled, she asked, “Need some help?”
“I think we’ve got it pretty much under control.” Mim looked so happy. She’d finally been rewarded with the man she’d always hoped for after all these years. Wasn’t that what love was about? Sticking in there, warts and all, good times and bad times, ups and downs.
Polly had no faith she could do that. No trust that she had it in her.
And then it hit like a lightning bolt, nearly blowing her back out the door she’d just entered.
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust herself. She just didn’t believe anyone could love her the way Mim loved Dad. That anyone would ever stick around that long.
* * *
What the hell just happened?
One minute they were wrapped around each other and everything was perfect, and then she’d ducked and run with some lame excuse.
Solo stood at the side of the dance floor, squeezing his beer glass until it threatened to smash. What had he done? Just nuzzled her neck, held her close… nothing compared to their other wild pursuits. Was it that they were in view of her family? That she didn’t want them to think—
Jesus.He ruffled a hand through the short spikes of his hair and let out an exasperated breath.
Bloody Polly Fletcher, constant mixed messages like a bag of mixed lollies. It made him remember a story Pop had told him when he was a kid. Pop and his friends had been nicking lollies, so one day the old guy at the corner shop had emptied out the fondant centres and filled them up with hot English mustard.
That was exactly how it felt with Polly—just as he thought it was safe to sink his teeth into that wonderful softness, she turned it all into something that left a horrible taste in his mouth.
Fuck, she annoyed the hell out of him.
And then he saw her marching out with the cake held up in those luscious arms, a big smile on her bright red lips, and he couldn’t be angry with her. She was beautiful and complex and totally confusing. Could he put up with the mustard centres for a bit longer, in the hope that eventually he’d hit something sweet and wonderful and long-lasting?
The pull of her was so strong, Solo realised he didn’t have a choice.
“Where are you, birthday boy?” Mim’s strident voice bellowed over the microphone. “Come and blow out these candles, you bloody slacker.”
More laughter and Ted was pushed forward. Hands clapped his back as he made his way to the front.
Solo watched Polly, a hundred and one emotions playing out behind that smile. He raised his glass in a salute and realised that finally, he was getting better at reading her.
And then another thought struck—she knew that, didn’t she?Knew he could see behind the games she played to the real Polly. And that, he realised, scared the bejesus out of her.
Later, much later, when the guests had gone and the party had been dissected over cups of tea at the kitchen table and Ted had gone to bed, Solo and Polly were skirting around each other, playing at helping, when finally Mim said, “Off with you both, you’re as useless as tits on a bull. Besides, I like clearing the kitchen on my own. It’s my little pre-bed routine.”
Polly’s gaze met his and then slid away, which was what had been happening since the dance-floor incident. He’d catch her watching him, then when he returned her gaze she’d look away, like a hummingbird flitting from flower to flower, refusing to settle even though the nectar was sweet.
Sure, he was pretty damn sweet. On her. He was sure she knew that. His sense it was reciprocated was getting stronger, but hell, this had been an emotional day all round and it wasn’t the right time to pursue it. Plus, he was dead beat. The incident with Ted earlier had taken him right back to Drew’s suicide attempt. Made him jagged and raw inside.
Which was why he carefully kept his distance as they walked down the corridor to their rooms. Not that it did much to stop the pulse in his temples and an answering one in his groin as they faced each other at his bedroom door. He leaned on the doorframe, let his fingers reach for the door handle to show he was ready to turn in.
“Good night, Dr J.”
“Good night.” They both looked at their feet, then up simultaneously and laughed in unison.
Polly the seductress was nowhere in sight. Instead, fatigue smudged shadows under her eyes. With her lipstick all eaten off and the dusting of freckles on her nose, she looked like a teenager returning from her first party.
“I owe you,” she said, and he noticed the way her fingers twisted together in front of her in a gesture he’d never seen her do before. Was this some little throwback from childhood? “You handled Dad amazingly.”
