AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Janey said, “I’m sorry I was rude.” Short and sweet, he guessed.
Quinn said, “I think I get it. I told you, I love my dad, too. I’m pretty sure I’d have felt protective myself as a kid if I’d thought a woman was moving in on him. That is, if my mom hadn’t been around, because my mom wouldn’t be having that.”
Janey said, “Dad says you’re just friends anyway, and you’re not going to be having sex, so I don’t need to worry.”
Quinn’s eyes flew to Beckett’s face, and he thought,What? That’s what you said. Or am I wrong again?She said, “That’s true.”
“OK,” Janey said. “Can I go to bed now?” she asked Beckett.
“Yeah,” he said. “Good job apologizing.”
She turned and walked out. He told Quinn, “Halfhearted at best, but I guess I’ll take it.”
She laughed. “Yeah, that’s OK. Pretty normal.”
“Right,” he said. “Talk.”
“Well, you don’t have to look so grim about it.” For some reason, she was smiling. “And Troy asked if you could kiss him goodnight, so maybe do that first.”
“Oh,” he said. “Right.” And headed out to do it. Troy was asleep, but when Beckett bent down to kiss his cheek, the boy stirred and murmured something incoherent. Beckett put a hand on his head for a moment, and his son sighed.
How did you do this well enough, when you were on your own? And what was he meant to do now?
Go back out and talk to Quinn,he told himself.You build a house one brick at a time.And went out to do it.
She was in the kitchen, making tea. It was such an Aussie thing to do at this moment, it made him blink, but he sat at the breakfast bar, put his forearms on the benchtop, and looked at his hands. He’d never worn a wedding ring, because it wasn’t safe at work. Instead, he’d had one tattooed there, a dark-blue circle around his finger. There was no taking that off, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
He said, “So.”
“So,” she agreed, hauling out milk from the fridge like she did it every day. “My ridiculous offer.”
“Yeah.” He had to smile. “If it’s a charity thing, we won’t be homeless. Hunter may come up trumps, or I’ll bite the bullet and do a luxury holiday rental. Hotel. Something like that. One that allows yappy little dogs.”
“Or,” she said, sitting down beside him, “you could make a perfectly rational choice instead and live in my unused upstairs for seven or eight weeks. If you like. I’ll promise not to jump you, how’s that?” She set the tea in front of him. “I noticed you like it strong.”
“I like most things strong.”
“If that’s a line,” she said, “it’s so cheesy, I’m ignoring it.” She grinned, and he laughed.
“Nah,” he said. “Just the truth. How much do you want for it?”
She blinked. “Don’t you want to see it first, before you ask?”
“We live dangerously. And you’d be the one getting the world’s loudest dog per kilogram in the bargain. Hope your house is detached. I just have one question. Why?”
“I’ve asked myself that,” she said slowly. “And I can’t come up with a good enough answer. I could say that it’s because I like your kids, even though Janey isn’t sure she likes me. I could say it’s because I like you, and I … trust you. Weirdly. But I’m not sure those are the reasons, or not all of them. I’m a rational person, or I tell myself I am. Sometimes I think that reason is what we use to make sense of our decisions, not how we actually made the decision. The decision may come from someplace deeper. Most communication isn’t in words, and maybe most decisions aren’t, either. When I judge somebody, when I sentence them, of course I’m using reason, considering the facts and the law, but what else am I using? My sense of truth and falsehood. My life experience. Judgment that’s lodged down deep in the bone by now. Anyway, when I thought of this idea, it felt right, even though I’m a careful person.”
“A single person,” he said. “Always?”
“Yes. Well, I’ve dated, of course, but otherwise? Yes. I do have a date on Saturday, by the way, as I mentioned. I seem to be putting myself on the market again. Is that going to be weird for you, if we’re living together?”
“Probably. But I’ll live with it. Probably be weirder for the bloke.” No, it wouldn’t, but he wasn’t saying that.
“What?” She blinked as if she’d never considered it. “Oh. But then, people have all sorts of arrangements nowadays. Throuples. Polycules. All that.”
“Whoa,” he said. “Don’t sign me up.”
She laughed. “Well, obviously, no. I just mean—having housemates isn’t odd, not anymore. In the extremely unlikely event I get to the point of having sex with somebody instead of him screaming and running after Date One, I guess I’ll go to his place.”
