Strike (10 page)

“He’s like a teddy bear around your boys. It’s wonderful to see,” I say, appreciating how lucky she is to have someone like Aidan.

I’d tried not to drool over Aidan the first time I met him, but really, as if I could help it. Tall with sexy brown hair, his pale blue eyes drew me in, and he had a body that I knew was toned to perfection underneath. He still does. Motocross riders at the top of their field have to be fit, and he is
fit
. Even though I don’t know Aidan all that well, he’d always been polite and friendly. And now I can add that he is an adoring, patient father to that long list of qualities. My heart swells thinking how much Aidan reminds me of my own father. Daddy would do anything to make me happy.
Except maybe let me be with Spencer
. If Spencer and I were going to work, we had a giant hurdle to overcome. But I had a feeling deep down we would get there. Even though he hadn’t told me about riding. I guess I should give him a break. We’ve seen each other three times. It takes a long time to get to know someone, and I know that soon we’ll be getting to know each other a damn sight more.

“Best dad ever,” she says, her loving gaze following Aidan. He sits the boys up on the lounge and scoops one under each arm and reads them a bedtime story. Eevie’s eyes glisten under the muted light. Maybe it’s time to change the subject.

“You know, Eevie, you’d never know you’d had twins,” I say, looking over her toned arms and slim frame.

She reaches her arm across the table, and pats the back of my hand. “You can come over any time, April. You’re good for my ego.” She chuckles softly, and takes another sip of wine.

“Did it take long to get back into shape?”

“Not really. As you might guess, with those two little firecrackers I don’t sit down much.”

“Yeah, I can see how you’d keep busy.”

“Apart from running after the boys, I do a fair bit of stuff around the farm. Even have a ride on the dirtbike occasionally.”

“You can ride?” Wow. Good on her.

“Yeah. Getting better. Even though the boys are only eighteen months old, Aidan’s already built them a track.”

I laugh out loud. “My dad was the same. I was riding when I was five, but Mum had other ideas. Wanted me to be a ballerina.”

“You’ve certainly got the height for it,” she says, and her gaze wanders down over my chest.

“But not the flat chest,” I say, and we laugh together.

“Sorry, it was rude of me to stare. Can you tell I hardly ever drink?”

“Don’t worry about it, like I said to —”
Crap
.
Spencer.
“Like I said to someone the other day, I’m a tomboy, and tomboys don’t do tutus.”

“I guess I’m a bit like that too. I grew up wrestling three brothers. I wasn’t a big fan of Barbies or that crap,” Eevie says, and she shakes her head and chuckles.

“Barbie is so wrong on
so
many levels.” I’d never been a fan of those dolls either, but that didn’t stop Mum from buying them for me.

“I agree. Especially the grown-up kind.”

Huh? “Meaning?”

“If we get through another bottle, I may just be brave enough to tell you.”

“Deal. Come one then, drink up, buttercup.” I crack open the next bottle of red and fill our now empty glasses, eager to find out the story. “Anyways,” I say, leaning back in my chair, putting one foot on my seat, and resting my elbow on my knee. “Even though Mum wanted me to be more like her ‘little princess’, it didn’t stop Dad and I from sneaking off. We’d tell Mum we were going to the park and then go and burn the bikes around the forest.”

“I really like your Dad. Mac’s just … well, I guess for Aidan he’s like family.”

“Yeah. He’s the best.”

Daddy had mentioned something about how he’d asked Aidan about his father, but Aidan had simply told him he didn’t have one. Daddy didn’t pry, sensing from his curtness it was best not to, but I know he’s always had a soft spot for Aidan, particularly since then. He talks about Aidan like he’s the son he wished
he’d
had.

“From what Dad tells me, sounds like everyone gets along in the team pretty well,” I add, after leaving a reasonable gap in the conversation.

“Yeah, I guess they have their good days and bad. The thing about boys is they tell it how it is, tell each other off, but by the next day they’re over it. Can say I don’t admire that. Aidan and Jones seem to have more of a hate than love relationship, but I think, in a way, it’s good. They push each other, and I think there’s a bit of mutual respect there because of it.”

She brought him up. Here’s my in.

“Do you know Jones well?” I ask, wondering if she knows any more about him than just being Aidan’s teammate. I don’t wanna sound like I’m digging, but up until this morning I’d had no clue he could even ride a bike. He could have at least told me that much, but I guess I didn’t ask.

“Well enough, I guess. Aidan doesn’t like him hanging around me.”

What?

“How come?”

She frowns. “You really don’t know anything about him, do you?”

“No.”

She raises one eyebrow, and eyeballs me suspiciously. “Okay, well, the first time I met him, he got Aidan pretty worked up. Jones said something to him about ‘sharing me’ and Aidan nearly went apeshit, wanting to beat the shit out of him. Jones seems nice enough to me, a bit cocky, but Aidan went all caveman, and said he doesn’t want the manwhore of motocross anywhere near his woman.”

Well, fuck.

Eevie might as well have hit me over the head with that wine bottle. My heart takes a dive into my stomach, stirring up an awaiting pool of acid. I swallow and then take a sip of wine, hoping to quell any reappearance of dinner. Then I take another large sip, because the first one did jack all.

“Right,” I mutter, my voice raspy.

“But I don’t think he’s as bad a guy as Aidan makes out. When Aidan had an accident on the bike a couple of years ago, Jones did all but hold his hand to get him to the hospital. He wasn’t his usual cocky self. He was genuinely worried about Aidan. It was kinda sweet.”

Aw.

“Who’s cocky?” Aidan asks, pulling out the chair next to Eevie.

“Jones,” Eevie informs him.

“I give you girls some time to chat, while I read
The Hungry Caterpillar
for the billionth time, and you decide to talk about Jones?”

Aidan’s intense gaze pierces me to the chair. His dark brows pull closer together. He knows something. How in the fuck could he know? Did Spencer say something?

“We were talking about your teammates, Aidan. At least I’m not talking about snotty noses and changing nappies,” Eevie says and rolls her eyes. She slumps back in her chair. Yeah. That’d be riveting after dinner conversation.

“How about dessert?” Aidan says, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Great idea,” I say, grateful for the diversion. I was just about to excuse myself so I could get my shit together before I spill my guts to Eevie about how I want to do rude things to Spencer, and whether my tactical holding-back-sex approach is gonna stop me from getting hurt. I don’t really have another girl I can talk to about this stuff. I no longer talk to my best friend, thanks to her fucking Todd and all, and Sophie’s not-so-hidden agenda makes it hard to get any
real
advice from her when it comes to guys and me.

Aidan clears the dinner plates and disappears, returning with a cloth to wipe the table.

I fill up our glasses once more.

“I’ll get the plates,” Eevie says.

“Relax. Sit down, babe. I’ll sort it.” Aidan smiles brightly, flashing his white teeth. He returns a moment later with dessert and plates.

“I’ll let you do the honours, April. Looks amazing.”

I take the knife and cut off a few slices and place a piece on each plate. As if we were all starved, we rush in for a taste.

“Oh my God, April. I think I love you,” Eevie says.

“Don’t hate me for it, baby. But I think I do too,” Aidan says cheekily. Eevie throws her crumpled up napkin at him, but he dodges it.

We silently enjoy the rest of our dessert, and Eevie and I wash it down with some more wine.

“I’m gonna call it a night,” Aidan says, stretching and running his hand through his dark hair. Eevie looks between Aidan and I like she’s torn. Aidan gives her a soft smile. “Have a couple of drinks, baby girl. Relax. If the boys wake tonight, I’ll get up.”

Eevie’s shoulders drop and she smiles, as if he’d just given her the world. “Thank you. Just another reason why I love you.”

“And there’s so many reasons,” he says, his words heartfelt. He takes our plates to the kitchen. Just watching these two—so in love, so connected—I wonder if Spencer and I could ever be like this.

Aidan returns, and leans down and kisses Eevie softly on the lips. She sighs and wraps her hands around his neck pulling him closer, deepening their kiss.
Hello! Get a room, I’m right here.

Aidan breaks away and smiles at her, as if he’d like to eat her alive.

“Take it easy on the wine, girls. Better make sure you have some water too,” he says, like a concerned father.

“Now
where
would be the fun in that?” I say and hold up my glass.

He holds up his hands, like I’d just pointed a loaded gun at him. “Hey, don’t blame me when you feel like shit tomorrow.”

“We wouldn’t dream of it,” Eevie says, slapping him on the arse.

“Night girls,” he says and strolls off.

****

Another bottle is empty all too soon, which means we
have
to crack another.

“Come on, I think it’s time for the Barbie story,” I say.

“It was before Aidan. I was with an older guy, Alex.”

“Whaddya mean older, like ancient? Not grandpa old.”
Creepy.

“No! He was, like, eleven years older.”

“Right.”

Her cheeks flush a deep pink, and she squirms in her seat. “So, I was about to have sex with him, and well, it was my first time, so you know, it was kind of a big deal. I was literally seconds away from having sex with him, and someone interrupted us. I managed to barely get dressed, and in walked Barbie incarnate.”

“No. He was two-timing you?”

“Yeah, the bimbo knew all about me, and she had some kind of ‘arrangement’ with Alex. I found out later he was into some kinky shit, and even bisexual.”

“Wow.” Imagine that for your first time. The arsehole was probably a walking STD.

“I’d say it was a good thing he got found out. So what happened after that?”

“I left him. Grew up, I guess. Then, well, Aidan happened. It was just before I turned twenty-one.”

“Aw, so you’re telling me Aidan was your first?”

Her smile is that bright, I’m wondering if I brought my sunnies. “Yep. First and last. I’m a lucky girl.”

I’m glad her first time was sweet with someone like Aidan, although I can’t for the life of me understand why she’d waited so long. I’d started early. My hormones would have eaten me down to the bone if I’d waited until twenty.

“What about your first time, April? How old were you?”

“I dunno; seems so long ago now. I think I was fifteen, and it was just a guy from school. Can’t say that he knew what to do with me, but we worked it out … eventually.”

Eevie tops up our glasses. I guarantee I’ll be enduring a sore head tomorrow.

Which reminds me, while I’m on topic …

“So tell me, Eevie. This Jones guy. I wanna know how you get crowned the ‘manwhore of motocross’.”

Eevie throws her head back and laughs out loud, and then covers her mouth and looks towards the bedrooms. She’s probably afraid she’d wake the kids.

“His bedroom has a revolving door, apparently, and whenever he’s touring women are like flies to honey with him. They can’t help themselves. He’s pretty hot, I’ll give him that, but to him women are disposable. Use once, and onto the next. One at a time, sometimes two—Aidan even told me once he had three in one night. Tell me, April: how the hell do you please three women at the one time?”

“I’d sure like to know,” I say, and then scull down the rest of my wine.

Way to fucking go, April. You sure can pick ‘em.

****

* SPENCER *

Monday

My gut was twisted in knots, but I was still anxious to see her. I was a dumbarse for holding back about riding. I’m damn near lucky she didn’t walk. She could have easily, but that tells me she’s still keen. She wants to see where this is going. For a dumbarse, I know that much.

At exactly five o’clock I run from the office like the building’s on fire. I need to get home, change and get to April’s. If she saw me in a suit now it would only rub salt in the wound. I didn’t lie to her, but I might as well have by failing to tell her about riding. Her texts since I saw her at the track have been brief, and sadly without the trace of humour and cheekiness I was growing fond of. It’s been torture not being able to see her since then.

I’ve been practicing what I was going to say ever since she handed me that coffee. It’s time to man up, and talk.

After practically ripping off my Armani suit, I shower in less than five. I whip on a pair of jeans and a slim button-down blue shirt.

My phone rings, and I fumble to answer it.

“Yeah,” I bark into the phone.

“Hey, man. It’s Ryan,” he says. From the chipper tone in his voice I can guess why he’s calling.

“Hey, mate. What’s up?” I reply as I slip on a pair of leather shoes.

“I’m in town, man. Thought we could head out for a drink,” he says, which is code for
let’s get blind, get some birds and fuck ourselves stupid.

“I can’t, buddy. Kinda got something on.” I walk into the kitchen and grab an expensive bottle of red wine from the rack.

“Come on, man. This goat farmer hasn’t seen action for weeks. I’ve been stuck in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere, without a girl in sight.”

I’d found Ryan’s police badge on the floor beside my bed after the last time we’d picked up.
The crazy redhead.
When he came to pick it up, I finally got the truth about what he does for a living. He admitted he’s no goat farmer—as if I thought that was the truth anyway. He’s told me he’s a cop, but that was all I got out of him. I still give him shit about it, and he continues to refer to himself as the farmer.