AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Christmas Girl let out a long moan and her dog stretched his neck over to lick her face.
“Let me just call.” He tapped the number from the website. It wasn’t his responsibility to find her a place to stay, except he wanted her gone. There had to be somewhere she could spend the night.
Turned out the caravan park wasn’t going to be it. No one even answered the phone—there was just a pre-recorded message.
“What the—”
Christmas Girl—Abilene—looked up at him, her eyebrows raised in a question, and he bit back the curse he was about to let fly.
“Every site and cabin’s reserved, the recording says. Through New Year’s.”
“Is there somewhere else I could just… park?”
His mind ran over the options. There were plenty of places he might be willing to pull off the road and camp for the night in his own ute, especially in Akuna National Park. But he couldn’t think of one he’d feel comfortable sending a lone, unprepared woman and her dog to. “Yeah, nah.”
“Look, Mr.—?” She held out her hand, and for the first time he noticed she’d painted her fingernails in alternating red and green designs.
He’d had no intention of telling her his name when she’d first asked who he was. He wasn’t planning on shaking her hand now, either. It wasn’t like they were going to be friends. Yet somehow, he found himself doing both. “Fletcher. Name’s Heath Fletcher.”
Her hand felt small in his. The contact felt—good. Until he remembered the last hand he’d clutched in his. His heart sped, and his chest went tight again, and he didn’t know if it was another panic attack brewing or something else.Stay in the moment.He made himself release his grip. Her cool skin slipped smoothly against his, her touch feathery soft. His pulse throbbed even louder in his ears and right before her fingers drew away from his, some instinct made him tighten his hold again for a split second, turning it like he was some gentleman, about to plant a kiss on the back of her hand. For an insane second, he wanted to. Her breath hitched but before she pulled away he had enough time to pick out three different patterns in her nail polish. Stripes, dots, snowflakes.
“Fancy.” At least the compliment would explain why he hadn’t let go.
“Ridiculous.” She gave a little shrug. “It was supposed to be part of the whole get up.” She waved a hand over her body, indicating her outfit. “I wanted to make an impression.”
She swallowed hard and looked up, like she was fighting tears.
“Ah, you’ve made an impression all right, luv.” He said it straight-faced, meant it to be serious, because it was true.
Her laugh surprised him. “Yeah, it was a real stunner, wasn’t it? You should’ve seen your face when you opened the door.”
“Abilene—” He wasn’t usually good with names, but Christmas Girl’s had stuck with him since she’d first said it. He’d never met anyone with that name.
“Call me Lena. Please.”
“Right. Lena. You can’t stay in your car. It’s too hot. Your dog’s already overheating.” The dog was lapping at the last of the ice water.
“I know. But there’s nowhere available and I’ve been up since forever and I barely slept last night anyway and I’m freaking exhausted and driving in another country is insane and I— ” Her voice wavered, like she was fighting to control it. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be telling you all this. I just thought— I thought I’d be staying here and now I can’t find anywhere else and I don’t know what to do!”
“About that…” No. That’s what he wanted to say,shouldsay. Absolutely not. She most definitely could not stay at his place. They were strangers and he didn’t do well with new people. Didn’t do well with anyone, really. He was better on his own. Helikedbeing alone. No, he did not want an American tourist and her dog parked out front of his house. Unfortunately, he also didn’t want to send her away and spend the whole night worrying about her, locked up in her hot, stuffy car, sleeping at some roadside turnout because she couldn’t find anywhere else. Or worse, find out from the news that she’d fallen asleep at the wheel and gotten herself killed on the way back to Sydney. Someone else he’d feel responsible for. Something else bad that would be his fault.
He knew the feeling that was building inside him, like a spring coiling. It was the feeling he used to get on a mission, when the choice came down to self-preservation or duty. Only this wasn’t as dire as combat. It was more like the time his maths teacher, Mrs. Vanderhook, had asked everyone who’d skipped class to attend the Splendour in the Grass Festival to raise their hand. Fully half the class had gone, but he’d known he was going to be the only one idiotic—or principled—enough to actually admit to it. Still, he hadn’t been able to stop his hand from going up. Because he had an idea of what was right in any given situation, and once he’d thought it, he wasn’t going to be able to do anything else except what his principles demanded, even if it was the last thing he wanted.
“You could stay here. Until you can find real lodgings.” There it was: the right thing to do. The offer just tumbled out of him, and there was no taking it back once he’d made it.
5
BABY IT'S HOT OUTSIDE
Lena almost changed her mind, walking towards the cottage she’d dreamt would be hers, following a man who she’d spoken to for a sum total of five minutes. Her over-active imagination screamed that staying in a stranger’s house was worse than hitchhiking and Heath Fletcher could be a knife-wielding murderer for all she knew. She pulled out her phone and shot a message to Carissa.
No time to ‘splain but MASSIVE PLOT TWIST. Staying at same address, no Zach. Tell police it’s Heath Fletcher if I turn up missing.
Half serious murder texts notwithstanding, the truth was Heath had insisted on carrying her pink carry-on suitcase from the car and he’d grabbed Copper’s bed, too, without her even mentioning it. Any guy who remembered the dog’s bed couldn’t be all bad, could he?
Crab-Cake Grinch Guy—Heath—bounded up the porch steps ahead of her, hefting her luggage like it was practically weightless, and held the front door open for her like the gentleman he hadn’t been when she’d first knocked. Like he was making amends. Like she was more to him than nothing. As in: she couldn’t remember the last time Zach had carried her bags or opened a door for her. Or maybe the guy was just showing off.
Still, the polite gestures clinched her decision. “This is so nice of you.” She stopped on the porch, exactly where she’d stood earlier to sing, suddenly overwhelmed by a flood of emotion. A complete stranger had showed her more consideration than her own boyfriend—Ex-boyfriend—whom she’d traveled half the world to see.“You really didn’t have to—”
