AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What?” she said. “I did. That was my least smooth move in a lifetime of un-smooth moves. What would help? Ice? Tylenol? Uh … lying down?”
Bram said, “A spot of discreet ignoring, probably. Ouch, man. Sorry about that.”
Beckett waved an arm. His other hand was still grabbing himself. He seemed to realize it, because he let go and said, “I’ll just … climb down here.” A twist of a grin showed itself again, as if there was no situation that he couldn’t laugh about. “And possibly have a glass of that wine. Either that or anesthesia. You aren’t a doctor, by any chance, are you?”
“No,” Bram said. “Sorry. Roxanne’s a lawyer, though, if you want to sue Quinn.” He was grinning, too.
“I knew the trampoline was an attractive nuisance,” Roxanne said. “I never realized Quinn was.”
“Too right,” Beckett said, climbing gingerly down the trampoline’s steps and walking up to the house with what Quinn could tell was an attempt not to stagger, while she followed behind and thought,You should have just sat around and had wine and made small talk and been bored, like a normal person. Why, why,whydoes my life always turn out this way? He’d better not have ruptured his scrotum.
But when Beckett was sitting on the deck with a glass of white wine in his hand and no ice pack on his crotch, even though that would clearly have been a good idea, he grinned at her and said, “Pity I’m an Aussie and enjoy living dangerously. But I think I know how the orthodontist felt.”
13
NOT GOING TO PLAN
“How are you feeling?” Quinn was still asking him when they were climbing into his ute for the drive home.
“Like I’m done with this topic, maybe,” he said. “We’ll draw a discreet line through that one and never mention it again, how’s that?”
“Oh,” she said. “Well, never mind. It’s not even my first disastrous date this weekend.”
He wanted to ask about that, but now wasn’t the time.Later,he promised himself.When we’re on the couch, after the kids are in bed.“Tell me about your date last night” might not quite be normal dating conversation, but if he could make the segue into what hedidn’tfind disastrous about her, including that body, maybe …
In a non-sleazy way, of course. Geez, this was hard.
“What’s wrong, Dad?” Troy asked, and Beckett had to think to realize why he’d asked.
“Nothing,” he said. “All good. Ready for chicken parmy? Practically the Aussie national dish,” he told Quinn. “And something I know how to make. I’m two for two here.”
“Chicken parmy and chips!” Troy shouted, then added, “That was the most funever.I wish we had a back garden like that.” He sighed in the same heartfelt way he’d used to do over dogs, and look howthathad turned out. Beckett could have a whole lifetime ahead of getting kicked in the groin on trampolines.
“It was good fun,” Beckett said, because he was, yes, drawing that discreet line. “You seemed to have a good time, too, Janey. You liked Micah pretty well, I’m thinking.”
“Dad,”she said, managing to stretch out the single syllable enough to show her utter mortification. What? He’d thought that was gently encouraging of her burgeoning womanhood. Teenhood. Tweenhood. Whatever. Showing her that he cared about her life, so she’d come ask him if she had questions. Not that he knew how toanswerthe questions, but he’d think of something.
“Volleyball, huh?” Quinn put in, proving that she could at least attempt tact. “I’d forgotten Violet did that. Sounds so fun. I never got to do team sports in school. I was always swimming.”
“It’s too late, though,” Janey said mournfully. “The tryouts were at the very beginning of school. Violet told me.”
“You could ask,” Quinn said. “No harm in asking. Tell the coach you just moved to the country and didn’t know how the teams work, and ask if there’s any way you can join. You’re athletic and strong, and every coach is looking for that. Tell her you don’t care if you don’t play in the games, you just want to learn.”
“But Idocare if I don’t play in the games,” Janey said. “That’s thepoint.”
“Well, since the coach will be the only one who decides that,” Quinn said, “there’s no harm in telling her you don’t care, is there? Love of the sport—that’s why we do it. That’s the idea.”
“Oddly devious of you,” Beckett remarked.
“You do what you have to do,” she said serenely, “if you want to play.”
“How do you know, though?” Janey persisted, “if you never played on a team?”
“Quinn’s an Olympic gold medalist,” Beckett said. “In swimming.”
“Oh,” Janey said, then, after a minute, “I thought Aussies always won those.”
Quinn laughed. “Not always. Sometimes they let somebody else sneak a medal away. That was a long time ago, though. Now I just do what I like.”
