Outback Dreams (17 page)

‘You two are the greatest,' he said, ushering her towards the door. ‘See you in the morning.'

‘Bright and early for a cooked breakfast,' Nora promised. Tim wrapped his arm around Nora's shoulders, and they stood in the doorway as they waved Faith and Monty into the night.

Faith shivered as they stepped off the verandah and Monty pulled her into his side. He'd done the same on numerous occasions, but it felt different tonight. Her whole body was on edge, and she imagined that if she breathed too deeply, if she thought too hard about just how close he was, she might actually combust.

‘Bit chilly tonight, isn't it?' Monty rubbed his hand up and down her arm. She swore his voice was rougher than usual.

‘Um. Yes.' There may have been goose bumps on her flesh, but inside she felt anything but cold.

With his other hand, he dug his mobile out of his pocket and, using the flashlight app, lit the way in front of them. They stumbled in silence to their tent. The campfire was ready to be lit, but it was much later than they'd envisaged getting back. She doubted Monty could be bothered lighting it, and she couldn't summon the enthusiasm either.

‘It was a great night, wasn't it?' Monty stopped just in front of the tent, as if unsure about heading inside. Although still holding her, he angled his face and body so he could look into her eyes. Moonlight shone through a gap in the trees beside them, and what she saw sent a jolt to her heart.

The moon emphasised his five o'clock shadow, which in turn highlighted the perfection of his strong, sculpted jawline. She swallowed, nodded her head, but couldn't speak.

While she fought the impulse to reach up and touch that jawline, she felt fingers on her face, running down over her cheek, across her lips. His touch was so light she wondered if she were dreaming. Again.

‘You were brilliant today. I don't know what I've done to deserve your support, but I couldn't get by without it.' He pulled her close and, desperate for his warmth, craving this blissful attention, she was helpless to resist. As their bodies melded together, his thumb paused on her lips, a tantalising pressure. ‘Nora and Tim adored you.'

He paused, then added, ‘I adore you.'

For a crazy moment she thought,
If he adores me so much, why doesn't he kiss me?
and suddenly he was doing just that. If logic and sense paid a visit, she ignored them, relishing the feel of his lips against hers. Relishing the culmination of what she'd been imagining all night. Her fingers crept round his back and gripped his shoulders as she kissed him like she'd never kissed anyone before.

Fireworks exploded around her head. Inside her body. Everywhere.

Nothing. Never. No kiss had ever compared to this. She pulled him closer, ran her hands up into his hair, tangling her fingers in the messy locks she'd teased him about so often. She feasted on him like a wild child, scared that if she slowed, this brilliant fantasy would end. That maybe she'd wake up.

Minutes that felt like hours later, they needed air. As Monty gasped in the icy night breeze, she whispered, ‘I adore you too, Monty.' Her words were slurred but he didn't seem to notice. Didn't seem to care. Instead he took her hand, looked into her eyes and asked a question, not with words but with one sultry look.

Her smile gave her consent and within seconds they were tumbling backwards, pausing only to tear up the zip on the tent, before collapsing on top of their waiting swags. She couldn't tell who hit the ground first, but they both reached for one another, tearing at each other's clothing like hungry beasts. In complete darkness and with no method to their madness, they didn't seem to be getting anywhere, so Faith pulled back and took care of her own clothes. Monty did the same, and when he reached for her again, she felt his warm, naked flesh against hers.

A moan of approval slipped from her lips.

Damn the dark. She willed her eyes to adjust so she could look her fill at the specimen beside her.

And then he was touching her. He pulled her towards him, tugged a blanket over the top of them and smoothed her hair. ‘You okay?'

Okay? Words could not do justice to her level of okay-ness. Why had they never gone here before? ‘Yes.'

She kissed him before he could ask any more questions. And it felt oh so right. As if she'd been born to kiss him. As if this action were as old as time. He tasted so good—a delicious mixture of sticky date pudding, beer and the port they'd finished off the evening with.

His lips still devouring hers, he moved his hand lower, trailing his palm over her shoulder, down across her neckline and then … then … he cupped her breast. She gasped as his rough and callused skin played against her smooth flesh. His fingers twirled around one nipple, pebbling it hard, then reached across and gave her other breast equal attention.

A voice inside her whispered that she should be touching him back, giving him pleasure, but it seemed her nipples had a direct line to her feminine core, because when he placed his mouth over her breast, teased and sucked, she almost came. But she didn't want this to be over, not yet. Dream or reality, she was having too much fun.

‘You're beautiful, Faith. You've always been beautiful.'

‘Oh, Monty.' There were tears welling but she bit them back. ‘Shut up and kiss me again.'

His laugh was music to her ears, his words were like drugs to an addict. ‘I can do better than that.'

And then he closed the gap so you couldn't have slid a ruler between their bodies, and the hand that had been bestowing devout attention on her breasts only moments before moved lower.

As Monty came down from what was, without doubt, the best sex of his life, reality hit. His eyes now adjusted to the darkness, he could just make out the outline of Faith's incredible body lying on the swag beside him. Her arm lay flung across her forehead and slow pants escaped her mouth as if she too was catching her breath.

She was beautiful. Utterly gorgeous. But what the hell had they just done?

He groped blindly for his clothes, located something which felt like his top, and yanked it over his head. His jeans came next, his mind whirring with thoughts as he yanked up his fly.

‘Monty?' Faith sat up beside him. ‘Are you okay?'

His heart was beating so damn fast he thought he might be having a heart attack. He had the best friend ever in Faith—someone he could turn to at all hours of the day, someone who knew his darkest secrets and fears (well, more than anyone else did anyway). So why had he gone and risked it all with a drunken fumble in his tent?

‘I'm so sorry.' He forced out the words, wishing this were a nightmare instead of reality as he felt around for his boots. ‘I shouldn't have taken advantage of you. I'm an idiot.'

Damnit, he couldn't find them, but he needed to escape, couldn't bear the confines of the tent anymore.

‘Monty, stop.' Her voice was desperate, a little angry. ‘You weren't the only one who just did what we did. Slow down a minute. Relax.'

He sighed deeply, stilled his frantic search and turned to face her. Thank God for the dark—he didn't want to see echoed in her eyes the regret he felt. He listened as she searched around for her clothes and dragged them on. Neither of them said anything for at least a minute.

Faith then announced, ‘I need a Panadol,' which only emphasized how wrong this had been. They'd fallen into bed after an enjoyable evening of fun and flirtation, but the flirtation had been a front, an act for their hosts.

‘I've got some in the ute,' he said, grabbing the opportunity to escape. He stood and hurried outside, gasping the cold night air into his lungs as he tramped across the moist ground. The damp soaked into his socks, and the reality of what they'd done quickly sobered him. He rummaged in the glove box for the painkillers and took them back to the tent.

‘Here you go.' He tossed her the box through the tent flap. He'd already decided not to go any farther in. ‘There's no point talking about this now. We both need rest. I'll spend the night in the ute. Sweet dreams.'

***

‘Sweet dreams?' Faith spoke these words aloud, but Monty had already gone. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry or go the whole hog and do both. How was she supposed to get any sleep at all after what they'd just done? After his absolutely horrified reaction.

She thought back to when they'd first kissed. It had felt real— not just a stupid drunken pash—but was that only because it had been more for her? Oh sheesh! She fell back onto their swags and pulled as much warmth as she could find around her. She was so cold she could feel her heart shaking.

Part of her wanted to storm after Monty and have it out with him, make him do the unmanly thing and talk, but another part was afraid of what he might say. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to hold onto the absolute bliss she'd felt only minutes earlier when their bodies had been in perfect harmony.

Being together like that had felt so damn right. Like her world had been off-axis all her life and had suddenly righted itself. For however long their beautiful frenzy lasted, she'd been absolutely certain that this was the final piece in the jigsaw puzzle of her life. She couldn't believe she'd wasted all these years looking for someone else. The love she'd been looking for had been here, right under her nose, all along. The sparks she'd experienced with Monty couldn't be faked.

But—and there was always a but—when things seemed too good to be true, they usually were. She was somewhere on the scale between tipsy and pissed, and she didn't think her actions were solely because she'd had too much to drink, but how could she tell?

Maybe it
was
the alcohol. Or maybe it was a combination of things—Ruby's sudden interest in Monty, the way she'd placed him in the role of her boyfriend at the old girls' night, and the fact that his moving away had suddenly become a reality. All these things were working together to make her crazy.

She groaned and then laughed, but it was bittersweet. Sex with her best friend. Of all the clichés. Maybe it would be one of those crazy stories they brought up in years to come—remember that time we got drunk and slept together? With that final thought, she drifted into a fitful sleep.

Sleeping in a ute should be a form of torture, along with castration, kneecapping and depriving someone of sleep altogether. Monty woke, if he could call it that when he'd barely slept a wink, with the dawn.

Hands linked behind the back of his head, he reclined in the driver's seat and watched as the night retreated. A vivid orange painted the sky as a ball of bright gold slowly crept up from the distant dirt. Not far off he heard the sounds of cattle lowing. He could get used to waking up here.

But like every other thought he'd tried to focus on throughout the night, his mind only remained faithful to the sunrise for so long before it snapped back to Faith. He glanced sideways but saw no signs of life coming from the tent. It was hard to believe that only hours before it had had been rocking as he and Faith stepped over a boundary that had been unspoken for years.

Every time he thought about what they'd done, his stomach ached. How could he ever look her in the eye again, knowing what it felt like to touch her? To be inside her.

Realising his fists were tightly clenched, he decided a morning walk might clear his head. Tim wouldn't mind him having a look around on his own, and it would help rid his body of some of the tension. It would be good to get the lie of the land, and he also needed the time to think. Or not, yes that would definitely be preferable. It was only when he quietly closed his ute door that Monty remembered his boots were still in the tent.

‘Damnit,' he cursed under his breath. Deciding to forgo the footwear, he strode in the opposite direction, heading out across the farm.

As he hoped, the distraction of the land and stock that would soon be his helped to keep his mind off Faith. He walked for miles, taking a second look at the places Tim and Nora had shown them yesterday. He stopped to investigate the soil, to examine one freshly seeded paddock, and he dreamed ahead about what he might do differently in years to come.

When the sun had truly risen in the sky and the promise of a gorgeous autumn day hung in the air, he decided it was time to head back. He hadn't been walking more than two minutes when Tim's ute appeared over a rise and slowed when he approached.

‘Morning, sonny.' Tim leaned out the driver's side window. ‘You're keen. Thought you might need a sleep-in after last night.'

You have no idea,
thought Monty. He smiled at the older man and lifted his hand in a greeting. ‘Nah, I'm fine. Thought I'd have another look around. Hope you don't mind.'

‘Not at all. It'll be yours soon anyway.' Tim gestured to the passenger seat. ‘I've been out feeding our bulls, just heading back for breakfast now. Want a ride?'

‘That'd be great.' He jogged round and climbed in.

‘Nice top,' Tim said with a laugh.

Monty glanced down and groaned. How had he not realised he'd slept in Faith's jumper all night? That showed just how all over the place he was. ‘Ah … thanks.'

‘Forgot your boots, too, hey?'

Monty wracked his brain for a reasonable explanation. ‘Well…'

‘No need to be sheepish with me, son. I was young once.'

He didn't know how to reply and Tim didn't appear to expect him to. As they neared the old building, Monty wondered if Faith was already inside talking to Nora. The thought twisted a knot in his stomach.

‘Good morning, boys,' Nora said, as they entered the kitchen. Eggs and bacon sizzled in a pan on the stove. There was no sign of Faith.

‘Haven't seen Faith yet?' he asked, hoping his tone didn't give away his anxiety.

‘The poor lass is probably still resting.' Nora smiled and continued cooking. ‘We gave her quite a night last night.'