The Honeymoon Arrangement (17 page)

He placed her drink on the table in front of her, pulled out a chair and waited until she was sitting down before settling himself into his own chair. He took a long swig of his beer. He was not going to ask what had gone wrong today.

Finn just sat there, happy to swat mosquitoes away as the sun finger-painted the evening sky with bold oranges and pinks.

A waiter replenished their drinks, brought them a snack of homemade chunky bread and flavoured olive oil to dunk the bread into, and Callie just looked out onto the dark river, her profile exquisite in the low light provided by lamps and citronella candles.

She slapped her bare arm and grimaced at the mess left by a bloodsucking mosquito. ‘I’m being eaten alive,’ she complained, and he was glad to break the silence—even if it meant discussing the mozzies, which were big enough to pick them up and carry them away.

Which reminded him … ‘Did you take your anti-|malaria pill?’

Callie winced. ‘Dammit, I forgot.’

Finn shook his head. ‘Jeez, Cal, you
can’t
forget. Malaria
is not fun. Take it when you get back to the room, okay?’

‘Okay.’ Callie agreed, leaning forward to rest her arms on the table between them. ‘So, today was—’

Finn lifted an eyebrow.

‘—difficult.’

Finn scratched the back of his neck. ‘Difficult? No. Confusing? Hell, yeah.’

Callie broke off a piece of bread, dunked it in the oil and popped it into her mouth. Finn urged himself to be patient. She’d explain in her own time. Oh, wait—he wasn’t supposed to be waiting for her explanation.
Remember the point about backing the hell up?

‘Oh, Finn, look! There’s a massive bull elephant coming down to the river. Oh, he’s a big boy.’

Okay, so she still wasn’t ready to talk. Why did he want her to? Why did he want her to trust him with her mind, her feelings, as well as her body?

Callie leaned forward, her elbows on the table and her chin cupped in her hands. Finn couldn’t resist picking up his mobile and aiming it in her direction, trying to capture the look of admiration on her face.

The flash went off, Callie blinked rapidly, and he looked down at the captured image.

Callie’s eyes were scrunched closed and the image was blurry and out of focus. He deleted the image and shook his head. Well, what did he expect? It had been that type of day.

Then again, surely things could only get better from now on, he thought.

Finn leaned back in his chair and his attention was caught by a couple a short distance from them. She had a huge smile on her face and was gesticulating wildly. He just looked shocked. Fantastically happy but utterly
shocked. Finn felt dread settle in his stomach. He knew what she was telling him.

The man’s loud whoop and his bouncing out of his chair to lay his cheek on his partner’s stomach was a pretty good clue. She was pregnant and he was excited. Finn swallowed when the guy kissed that still flat feminine stomach and then reached up to cover her mouth with his.

He understood that wave of love. He’d never loved Liz as much as he had when she’d told him he was going to be a father. He’d thought that she’d hung the moon and stars.

Unable to watch them any more, Finn turned his head and stared out onto the river, fighting the urge to tell them not to get too excited, that bad things could and did happen. Happiness could be fleeting.

Caught up in the business of the last week—the elephant rides and the game drives, the amazing sex—he’d managed to shove his grief aside. To forget, just for a little while, why he was here … with Callie. He’d managed to have a break from mourning the loss of his baby, the loss of his dream of having a family, his stepdad—all of it.

Grief, hard and sour, rolled over him and memories flashed on the big screen in his head. He saw his bedroom, the blood, Liz’s white face.

He couldn’t resist looking across the room again at the excited couple. He didn’t know if he could ever be that excited again, ever trust in happiness like that again. Nothing compared to the joy he had felt about becoming a father, and to have it ripped away was an experience he never wanted to repeat.

Maybe in a couple of years, after a great deal of thought, he might be ready to think about another relationship, about trying to create a family with someone again, but not yet—not when he was so raw and his emotions were all over the place.

The waiter put the menu down in front of them and Finn
felt his stomach roil at the thought of food. He couldn’t eat—not now. Right now he needed to be alone, to lose himself in his writing, maybe do a couple of chapters of the anecdotal travel guide he was busy compiling.

It was either that or lose himself in Callie’s body. And he couldn’t do that—not since he’d taken the moral high ground earlier in the day. Besides, maybe they needed a break from each other … from sex. God, did he
really
think that? Shoot him now! But he needed to step away from the quicksand and he couldn’t use her as a crutch. She wouldn’t be around in a couple of weeks and what would he do then? No, he had to backtrack, put some distance between them.

He was going to act like an adult now, not scuttle from the room because a random couple were expecting a baby. That was just stupidly ridiculous. He was going to sit here, enjoy the evening, the balmy night. He was with a gorgeous, entrancing woman who fascinated and frustrated him in equal measure. He was not going to fall into the vortex of grief—not tonight.

‘Are you okay?’ Callie asked, her eyes flashing concern.

‘Sure.’

‘You’re not still mad at me because I acted like a looney tune today?’

‘I was never mad at you.’ Finn saw that she didn’t buy that statement and he smiled. ‘Okay, I was a little frustrated.’

‘You had a right to be,’ Callie admitted. She blew out a long sigh. ‘I can be a very frustrating woman.’

He smiled at her self-deprecation. ‘You’re also a smart-ass and a flirt and as sexy as hell.’

The light dimmed in Callie’s eyes. ‘Yet you turned me down today?’

Finn covered her hand with his, linking their fingers. ‘That wasn’t because I didn’t want you.’

Callie pushed her hair back with her hand. ‘I know; I
was using sex as a distraction and that wasn’t fair—to you or to me. I’m so sorry, Finn, it was wrong of me.’

He wanted to tell her that not five minutes ago he’d wanted to do the same thing to her, so he wasn’t exactly a saint. He slid a glance to the expecting couple and sighed. God, he and Callie were a pair. Outwardly successful, talented, in the prime of their lives.

The truth was that they were both pretty screwed up in different ways.

Callie sent him a small smile. ‘You keep shifting in that chair—it looks like you’re uncomfortable. Why don’t you move to this chair?’

Finn looked at the chair to her right and realised that it would put his back to the couple—just what he needed.

Shifting over, he settled his long length in the new chair and immediately felt more relaxed, a lot more comfortable.

Callie pushed her hand under his and slid her fingers between his. ‘We’re really bad talkers, aren’t we? I’d rather literally spill my guts than do it emotionally, and I suspect you are the same.’

‘Yeah.’

‘That being said—and I know that I have absolutely no right to say this—I want you to know that if you want to talk I’ll listen.’

Finn squeezed her hand, shocked at the thought that he was tempted to do just that. But they’d made a decision not to be sucked into anything deep, anything important—not to be seduced by the romance and the company and luxury.

No, he needed to put distance between them, and talking wouldn’t help with that. It would just make him ache for more.

Finn squeezed her hand again. ‘Back at you, angel.’

There he went again with the endearments. God, could he get
nothing
right tonight?

C
ALLIE
,
DRESSED IN
a short terry robe, her hair wet from the shower, was curled up in the corner of a cane couch on their private veranda, a bowl of fruit salad in her hand. Finn was half perched on the railing, the riverbank vegetation below him and the mighty Zambezi river behind him, the early-morning sun beating down on his bare chest.

After their meal last night they’d both retreated to their respective corners by silent agreement. He’d gone out onto the balcony and hunched over his computer and she hadn’t disturbed him. Instead she’d showered and gone to bed, taking a little time to catch up with her e-reader. She’d fallen asleep somewhere around midnight and hadn’t heard Finn coming to bed, but she’d woken up curled up half on him. It had been an easy slide completely on to him and she’d sighed when he’d entered her, filling her.

It had been easy and languorous and sexy.

‘Croc on the sandbank,’ Finn told her, pointing so that she knew where to look.

Now or never, Hollis
, Callie thought
.
Are you going to back away and pretend that you didn’t notice what you noticed last night? Leave the status quo? Or are you going to make this situation more complicated than it needs to be? And if you get him to open up, then he has a right to do the same to you. You ready for that? Getting to know him better will make it so much harder to walk away …

Callie spooned up a strawberry and slowly chewed. She understood that she was taking a risk, but she knew that Finn needed someone to talk to about the horror of the last few weeks. Because it was eating him up.

When he thought she wasn’t paying attention his eyes would reveal his sadness, his grief. His lower lip would tremble before he flattened it out and then he’d pull in a deep breath. Yeah, the man was in pain and he needed to talk. It was more important that he do that than it was for her to protect her heart.

Her wounds were old and mostly healed, but his were raw.

‘Did you love your fiancée?’

Finn’s laugh had absolutely no humour in it. ‘You go straight for the jugular, don’t you? I loved her, but probably not as much as I should have.’

Thought so. So, now are you going to ask the really hard question?

Yeah, she was.

‘So, how far along was Liz when she miscarried?’

Finn wobbled and grabbed the railing to steady himself as the colour ran from his face. He stared at his bare feet for so long that Callie didn’t think he’d ever answer her.

‘Four and a half months,’ Finn said finally, his voice rough. ‘How did you know?’

Callie placed her bowl on the coffee table and wrapped her arms around her bent knees. ‘I’ve always thought that there was something more to your break-up than—well, just a break-up. Then I saw your reaction to that couple last night. It was written all over your face.’

Finn grimaced. ‘And I thought I hid my reaction so well.’

Callie pushed her unbrushed curls out of her eyes. ‘Not so much. I take it that you really wanted the baby?’

Finn slowly nodded. ‘I really did … I’ve always wanted to have a family—a wife, a couple of kids.’

‘Because of your own dad?’

Finn took a long time to answer her. ‘My dad was useless. That’s the kindest word I can find to describe him. He’d come back, make these elaborate promises to us, siphon money off my mum and disappear again. It was always just Mum and I, and life was tough sometimes. I wanted a dad I could rely on.’

‘James was that person for you?’

Finn nodded. ‘He really was. He taught me about family.’

‘And when Liz told you she was pregnant it was your chance to have the family you’d always craved?’ Callie gently pushed. ‘Tell me about losing your baby, Finn.’ Finn rubbed his jaw in agitation. ‘She just started to bleed that night. We were at home. I’ve seen war—reported on war—seen some pretty horrendous stuff, but there was always a distance been me and the event. This was up close and personal. Blood … so much of it.’

That’s why he got rid of the mattress
,
Callie realised
.
Oh, Finn, honey
.

Callie knew that if she spoke, if she uttered a word of sympathy, she’d lose him.

‘They took her to Theatre, did a D&C, what is that, anyway?’

‘Basically, they just go in and …’ Callie bit her lip ‘… clean everything out.’

Finn briefly closed his eyes. ‘Anyway, when she came out of Theatre we had a discussion and she suggested that we break it off. She said that we were only together for the baby. That if she hadn’t fallen pregnant then she doubted we would’ve been together any more.’

Callie’s respect for Liz rose and she placed her hand on her heart. ‘That was enormously brave.’

Finn frowned at her. ‘What?’

Callie lifted her shoulder. ‘She was brave, Finn. It would’ve been so much easier to go through with the wedding, to go home and pretend that you still loved each other, that you could love each other again like you should. Instead she chose the hard route—the one that took courage. Cancelling the wedding, exposing herself to gossip, to questions. In her most painful moment she looked for the truth—you’ve got to respect that.’

Finn stared at her. ‘I never thought about it like that.’

‘She deserves some credit for making a tough choice when she could’ve lied to herself
and
to you.’ Callie smiled softly. ‘You have great taste in women, Banning,’ she teased.

The corner of his mouth lifted. ‘Apparently so.’

‘Could they tell whether your baby was a boy or a girl?’

Finn’s broad shoulders rose and fell. ‘I have no idea. To me it just felt right that he was a boy.’

Callie rested her chin on her kneecap. ‘I bet you named him after your stepdad.’

Finn’s mouth lifted at the corners in another reluctant smile. ‘Witch. Yeah, I did. In my head I called him James—Jamie—same as my stepdad.’

You’re still in mourning, honey, for both your stepdad and your lost little boy
.

‘Does anyone know, apart from me, about the baby? About what you lost?’

Finn shook his head. ‘We hadn’t told anyone that she was pregnant and Liz asked me to keep it like that. She’s pretty private and her folks are conservative.’