A Bad Boy for Christmas (14 page)

Eli took to showing her and Nash how to tie down, while Caleb and Cutter started reducing the windage on the yachts still in the water. Mainsails got taken down and decks got cleared. Anything that could go flying got stowed or secured.

“Are you still fishing tonight?” asked Caleb at one point.

Mia would have thought an outright no would have been Cutter’s reply, but he headed for a computer and consulted the latest bureau of meteorology map instead. When he returned it was with plans to head out in the early hours of the morning, once the eye of the storm had passed.

Caleb had scowled, because apparently this meant the trawler would have to be anchored out some distance from the marina. More work for everyone. Three anchors in total, with several more ground lines disappearing over the side of the vessel and into the water, but Cutter just grinned and got Mia to help him, and then Caleb picked them up from the trawler afterwards and relayed them back to shore.

By nightfall every boat in the marina was storm-ready and Zoey had opened her and Eli’s apartment up to the masses. There was pizza in the oven and on the table, and several liters of Brunswick Bay’s finest ice cream was in the freezer, courtesy of Nash and Caleb having made a swift trip into town on a quest for additional mooring line.

There were no storm clouds yet, but there was definitely one brewing, as everyone gathered on the upper deck in a vain attempt to find relief from the thick, hot air that eddied only when someone moved. No seagulls or pelicans hovered within sight. Stillness had settled in, and with it the waiting for something to crack.

“Only man I know who actually
likes
prepping for a storm,” Eli muttered when Cutter leant back in his chair and stretched like a lazy cat. “Word has it that the Francos have just headed out over the bar. Looks like they’re fishing tonight.”

“The Francos have debt to cover and risks to take. We don’t.” Cutter and Caleb exchanged a glance. “That or we’re getting soft.”

“We have other things to do tonight,” said Zoey. “Like celebrate the new people in our lives and try to convince them to stay now that we’ve found them. For starters, I think we should all order custom cars and get tattoos.”

“Well that’s … one … solution,” said Nash with one of his rare smiles.

“We could commission Mia to cover the trawler in goldfish art,” Zoey said next.

Eli smiled. “I vote yes.”

“I abstain.” Caleb directed his gaze towards Cutter with a level of innocence that would have done a newborn proud. “Cutter? What say you?”

“Goldfish?”

For a man who’d led storm preparations all afternoon he seemed awfully indecisive all of a sudden. “Put it this way, Captain. How bad do you want me around?” she murmured, and Cutter’s gaze sharpened on her immediately.

“Goldfish and
kittens
,” he said.

“And unicorns?” she suggested. Never stop dealing when there was more to be had.

“Maybe not the unicorns,” he said. “I’d have to be convinced. Might take a while.”

“Surely there’d have to be several stages to a project that big,” Nash offered. “A design stage could take weeks.
Months
. Then you’d have to approve the design. That’d take more time. Might even have to go back to the drawing board.”

“I like him.” Cutter surveyed his two younger brothers critically. “He’s my
favorite
.”

“Pity he’s
leaving
,” said Caleb.

“Not yet he’s not.”

“Tomorrow.” Nash cleared his throat. “I’m heading off tomorrow and now’s as good a time as any to thank you all for your hospitality and say that you’re welcome at my place if you’re ever in Melbourne. All of you. Any of you. Offer’s there.”

It was probably the longest speech they’d ever heard him give, thought Mia a little grimly.

“But you’ll be back in the New Year,” Cutter said, as if there was no argument to be had.

“No.”

Mia’s heart sank at the implacability behind that one little word.

Nash had stayed on for almost two weeks, waiting and hoping on a father who hadn’t showed. Yesterday she’d given him the contact details of a woman who’d known his mother well.

“Did you go and see Clarice?” she asked and Nash nodded. “Did she have good things to say?”

“My mother wanted money for drugs so she stole it and ran.”

“Nash,” she began.

“Leave it.” He was shut down tight. “I wasn’t expecting anything else.”

He’d been hoping, though. And the end of hope was a terrible thing.

“You’re not coming back?” Cutter’s voice was gruff.

Nash held his brother’s gaze with an impenetrable one of his own. “Not a lot left to talk to your father about.”

Your
father. Not Nash’s.

“Like I said; if you’re ever in Melbourne …”

“I’ll visit,” Cutter said instantly. “Cause you’re my
favorite
.” He looked at Mia next. “Want to go into the dragon-boat building business with me? Eli can design them, I’ll build them and you can paint them.”

“Who’s going to buy them?” asked Caleb.

“We’re going interstate,” said Cutter with the wave of his arm. “We’ve got Melbourne connections now and Melbourne’s got this itty bitty river that people like to play on.”

“I like his vision,” said Zoey. “There could be costumes involved.”

Mia smiled in spite of the sadness enveloping her. She leaned into Nash, shoulder to significantly larger shoulder. “Dragon boats,” she murmured. “You got anything to add? Engines, maybe?”

“Just what a dragon boat needs,” he said dryly.

“It could be. These are unique.”

And then the yellow phone on the wall rang.

The Jackson boys had been fielding calls from nervous boat owners all afternoon, but this one made Cutter frown as he pulled away from the table and headed towards it.

Mia watched as his voice took on a timbre that rang with an air of reassurance and command. Conversation could have continued around the table without him, but it didn’t.

By the time he returned a wary watchfulness had descended over them all.

“That was old man Franco. The reason they went out earlier wasn’t to fish. His grandsons took one of their older boats out last night to do some line fishing north-east of Green Island. ETA was ten this morning and they’re not back yet and not responding to their VHS or answering their mobiles.”

Caleb leaned back in his chair and studied his brother impassively. “Any distress call?”

“No.”

“So we’re going out?”

Cutter nodded. “Eli, want to sit this one out? I think we need you here.”

“On it.”

“Wait!” said Mia. “Isn’t there a coastguard for this kind of thing?”

“There is and we’re part of it,” Caleb said. “See that yellow boat down there? Coastguard.”

“But you’re going to be back before the storm hits, right?” she said and Cutter just looked at her with a wry kind of smile.

Okay, so no. She looked from one face to the next. “On a scale of one to ten, how dangerous are we thinking this is?”

“Nothing to it,” Cutter said blandly.

“And the storm we’ve been preparing for all afternoon? Where does that fit in?”

“That’s there to make life interesting.”

“You’re enjoying this!”

This time Cutter grinned. “There’s water and wind and I’ll be out in it.” He headed for her side and dropped a sweet claim of a kiss on her lips. “Save me some ice cream. Think about dragon boats. And fireworks.”

Mia watched as he looked at the weather map on Eli’s computer one last time and then he and Caleb headed for the door, Caleb nodding towards Nash to join them.

“Give us a hand getting the boat untied?” he asked.

So they took Nash too.

Ten minutes later, with the boat free of its moorings and the motor running, Mia watched in narrow-eyed silence as all three men got aboard and set off.

“I
knew
it,” she said. “Did they think they were being subtle about taking him too?”

“They need three people for a coastguard run,” Eli murmured. “And Nash has been out on the water with Cutter before.”

“Once!”

“Apparently he took to it like a Jackson.”

“Don’t you magnificent Jackson
me
, Eli. This stuff’s dangerous!”

“You’re nervous,” he said, backing away fast. “And I need to check the docking ropes again. You can never check them too often.”

“While they’re busy being heroes, we can decide what we’re doing for Christmas this year,” said Bree, as she headed for the fridge and returned with the two giant tubs of creamy, chocolate-brownie-infused deliciousness. Bowls and spoons soon followed and they all dug in.

Ice cream was good for anxiety, decided Mia.

Ice cream and company.

“I think we should seriously consider doing Christmas Eve in Melbourne,” said Bree. “We travel Christmas morning and we’re back here in time for dinner.”

“It’s a twelve-hour drive,” Mia reminded them. “That’s Christmas day gone.”

“We can try and get flights. I don’t know whether there would be any seats available this close to Christmas, but I think we should make the effort for Nash.”

“Would we tell Nash we’re coming?” asked Zoey.

“No, we surprise him.”

“Hell of a gesture.” Mia could picture it. “You’re going to break his heart.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s already broken,” said Zoey. “But maybe we can help mend it. Can you make sure he’ll be at home on Christmas Eve?”

“I can and I will.” Mia beamed at them. “I’ll lay in some food. Party hats.
Damn.
I knew Nash had Cutter’s support. I didn’t know he had yours.”

Bree smiled. “You’ll figure out soon enough that where Cutter goes, the rest of us soon follow. His instincts are good.”

The whole lot of him was good. “He keeps saying his parents will come round. That they’ll want to see Nash eventually. What do
you
think?”

“I think he’s right,” Zoey offered. “I think they just need some time.”

“I wish they’d been here when we arrived,” confessed Mia. “I wish we weren’t making plans with each other without them knowing it. I’m scared it’ll cause rifts.”

“They know what’s happening here,” said Bree. “Cutter’s been telling them. He tells them about Nash’s car hunts and you slowly losing your mind at Beryl’s emporium. He told them about Zoey designing you a dress and me wanting to take pictures of you in it. They know full well they’ll be returning to a different world to the one they left.”

Mia dug into her ice cream, playing with it rather than eating it. “I hope they don’t think it’s a poorer world.”

Because it wasn’t. Not for anyone.

Value yourself.

She and Nash both had issues when it came to doing that.

The sky began to darken and the wind began to blow within the hour. They moved the party inside and closed the big French doors that led to the deck where they’d been sitting. Pizza and ice cream got put away and dishes got done. Coffee got made and it was the good stuff.

“I should go soon,” Mia said.

“Why?” asked Zoey. “Why worry by yourself in a tiny apartment when you can worry here with us and see the storm up close and personal?”

Well, when she put it like that …

Eli appeared at the top of the stairs just as the wind began to batter the boats in earnest. “I hope you haven’t eaten all the ice cream,” he began, with a swift glance in Mia’s direction. “Because my parents are back.”

They what? Mia stared at him, and then at the man who’d followed him up the stairs.

Mia would have known the older man’s face anywhere, and as for the woman, well, Eli had her eyes.

Guess Geoff Jackson had persuaded his wife home to meet Nash after all.

“Oh, boy,” she muttered to Zoey who had come to stand beside her. “So much for fair warning.”

“You’re ready for this.” Zoey took Mia’s hand and gently squeezed it. “For them.”

Right. So maybe instead of standing around waiting for someone to introduce her, she should introduce herself. She stepped forward abruptly and Zoey’s hand went with her because damn sure Mia wasn’t letting go.

“Hi. I’m Mia Blake.”

“Cutter’s girl,” said Zoey the terror.

“And Jackson Nash’s childhood friend. Pleased to meet you,” Mia added ever so politely. “Finally.”

The
finally
might have been unnecessary.

That last accusatory little word was a sign of nerves kicking in and with them her defense mechanisms. Old mechanisms from another time and place. A fighting spirit that maybe, just maybe, had no place in this.

“Geoff and Claire, this is Mia,” Bree offered, possibly because Mia was doing such a bang-up job of introducing herself. “Mia, meet Geoff and Claire Jackson.”

“Hello,” they murmured in unison, a subdued greeting if ever there was one.

Mia squared her shoulders and took a deep breath and tried to figure out how best to continue. “I, ah—hello. We were just … eating, and, there was pizza, and ice cream.”

Excellent. Now she sounded like a four-year-old.

“Would you like some?” added Zoey.

“I’d kill for a coffee that wasn’t lukewarm,” said Cutter’s mother.

“Mia can help me make it. And then she’s going to model a gown for me,” Zoey said, and Mia’s eyes widened because this was the first she’d heard of it. But she ducked her head and nodded because it beat standing around alienating people.

There were plenty of things Cutter’s mother could have done other than join them in the Zoey workshop once everyone had fresh coffee in hand. She could have ventured back out onto the deck with Eli and his father as they studied the lay of the boats. She could have stayed with Bree, who had decided to unload the dishwasher there and then.

Instead, she followed Mia and Zoey into a long narrow workroom and Mia tried not to grow ever more nervous of the slender, well-dressed woman with the careful expression.

Zoey’s workroom boasted a bank of high windows and hundreds of bolts of material, racked in color groups, along the far wall. There were two large tables, several dressmakers’ dummies, two industrial-looking sewing machine contraptions, and an honest-to-goodness boudoir dressing screen. Zoey pointed her in its direction and told her to strip.