Chapter 26

Daisy

Iwait until I disembark in Melbourne before switching off airplane mode on my phone to call Hart.

I have it all planned out. We’ll meet at a public café in the heart of the city, far away from the temptation of hotel rooms and anything remotely resembling intimacy. I’ll say our meeting is business, but use it as a way to suss out how he’s feeling.

Since Kevin mentioned that Hart believes everyone ultimately leaves him, all I can think about is how an amazing, infuriating man has such low expectations of other people.

Considering my track record, he probably thinks I’ll leave too. If I walked out on an engagement, what’s tethering me to him? I need to confront Hart and make him understand that I don’t quit on the things that really matter.

I wait until I’m clear of the crowds before I hit the call button. It rings but the oddest thing happens. Rather than hearing the ringtone through my phone, I hear Hart’s signature tone, a honking horn, nearby.

It has to be a coincidental because a billion people would have that same ringtone, but as I turn to seek the source of the sound, I lock eyes with Hart.

He’s staring at me with wide-eyed horror and I laugh. He’s definitely not happy to see me.

‘Leaving Melbourne already?’ I glance up at the board that shows the flight I’ve disembarked is leaving for Sydney in another hour. ‘Let me guess, you heard I was coming.’

‘Not everything revolves around you,’ he mutters, grouchy as ever, but I see the fear in his eyes.

What is he afraid of? That I might actually make sense if he hears me out? That we could actually be happy beyond a fling? That I’ll jump him in a public place?

‘In case you were wondering, I flew to Melbourne to talk to you face to face.’

When he doesn’t speak, I point to my bag. ‘The new campaign can’t go live until you sign off on it.’

‘You could’ve emailed me.’

‘Yes, but I also need a physical signature. Company policy. Alf’s stipulation, not mine. Which is stupid in this day and age, considering almost everybody accepts digital signatures.’

As expected, he’s not going to make this easy for me. ‘Besides, where’s the fun in that?’

He shakes his head, his lips compressed. ‘I don’t understand why you’re here. I was a rude asshole to you and I left without apologising. You should be furious.’

‘I am. I’m imagining strangling you with my bare hands right now.’

‘So why are you really here?’

‘Already told you, I need your signature for final approval.’ I gesture at a row of nearby seats that is vacant. ‘Can we sit and get this over with?’

Because the sooner I take care of business, the sooner I can tell him the truth. That I’m crazy about him and not willing to end things between us. Not like this.

I slip my laptop out of its case and flip open the lid. We don’t speak as it fires up and it’s an awkward silence filled with too much unsaid. But I’m aware of him with every cell of my body. We’re not touching but his thigh is close enough to mine that I want to reach out and stroke it. His strong forearms are resting on his thighs, and those capable hands…

I swallow to ease the dryness in my throat. The memory of what he can do with those hands…heat creeps into my cheeks.

I can smell him too, that signature citrus aftershave, so crisp, so fresh, I want to bury my face in his neck and guzzle until I’ve had my fill.

‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes, fine,’ I mutter, the heat in my cheeks worsening. ‘You know me. Must be a bit of residual motion sickness from the flight.’

His eyebrows rise in blatant scepticism. I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t buy my lame-ass excuse either.

Thankfully the screen flares to life and I swipe my thumb across the mouse pad to bring up the firm’s retainer agreement.

‘You’ve already seen the final product so all I need is your electronic signature here, and on the printed copy.’

He stares at the document on the laptop screen, expressionless. ‘What if I don’t sign?’

I rein in another impulse to strangle him, closely followed by confusion. If he doesn’t sign, the campaign won’t go live…is that what he wants? Does he want to keep me alongside working with him?

I hate second-guessing myself and I hate him for making me feel this discombobulated.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Nothing.’ He touches my arm. It doesn’t reassure me. ‘I’ll sign.’

I swipe my brow in mock exaggeration. ‘Phew. For a minute there I thought I’d resigned for nothing.’

He rears back. ‘What the—?’

‘I quit my job yesterday.’

I shrug like it means little when in fact I’m terrified I did the wrong thing on a whim to follow my heart.

‘But that means you won’t get credit for this campaign and can’t advertise the fact you were brilliant on it with your new business—’

‘Some things are more important.’

I eyeball him, daring him to articulate what we both know.

I did this for him.

He capitulates first, tearing his eyes away to stare at the screen, muttering, ‘Fuck.’

I suck in a breath, mustering my courage to lay it all on the line, well aware he could break my heart again but needing to do this regardless.

‘I did this for us, in case you were wondering. I had no idea how long it would take me to find you if you didn’t answer my calls, so I quit, allowing me to follow you for as long as it takes to—’

‘This is crazy. You’re crazy.’ He glares at me, wild-eyed and frantic. ‘How could you do this? Your dream is to have your own PR company—’

‘My dream is to be happy.’

It always has been. I just didn’t know what could make me truly happy until I fell for this infuriating man.

‘And you think I can make you happy?’ He swipes his hand over his face, but not before I glimpse the sheer horror. ‘Fuck, Daisy, I can’t be responsible for your happiness, not when I’m so screwed up.’

‘Who says?’

‘I do!’ His voice rises and several passengers nearby glance across at us, sporting matching expressions of concern.

I don’t care. All I focus on is Hart and making him understand we can work if he faces his fears and gives us a chance.

‘Listen, we can—’

‘No, you listen. I can’t be the man you want me to be. You deserve the best.’ His voice breaks a little. ‘And that’s not me.’

Tears well in my eyes but I can’t show weakness. I have to be strong enough for the both of us.

‘I won’t leave you,’ I say, so softly he has to lean towards me to hear it. ‘I’m not a quitter. You know that. It’s been ingrained in me since birth. I don’t give up easily.’

‘Yeah? You quit your engagement to that dickhead and you just quit your job, so what’s to say you won’t do the same to me?’

‘I can’t give you a guarantee. You know life doesn’t work like that. But I’m willing to take a chance because I believe in us. Can you?’

He doesn’t speak and I see the inner battle he wages play out across his face. Terror. Hope. Regret. Anxiety.

When he finally lays a hand over mine where it rests on my thigh, I know I have a chance.

‘Do me a favour. Come with me to Sydney. See for yourself why I’m so fucked up. Then make your decision.’

My relief is short-lived, but I can do this. He wants to scare me away? Let him try.

‘Do you really think I’ll change my mind?’ I lean in close to murmur in his ear. ‘I want you.’

He squeezes my hand and releases it. ‘You’re confusing sex for something more—’

‘Don’t do that.’ I jab him in the chest, hard. ‘Don’t belittle what we have.’

To his credit, he nods, his expression sheepish. ‘Fine. So we’ve got something beyond the phenomenal sex. But I don’t do relationships. I never have.’

‘That’s because you’re too busy running at the slightest sign of commitment.’ I sigh and sidle closer to him so our arms and thighs are touching. ‘Tell me why you left the island so quickly.’

He glances at me before his gaze shifts away. Guilty. ‘I needed to meet with the founder of the foster kids association—’

‘The real reason.’ I nudge him gently with my shoulder.

He takes an eternity to answer and I hold my breath, willing him to admit the truth.

‘Because I realised I started to feel more than physical attraction for you and I ran first before you could.’

‘Better.’ I exhale in relief and flash a smile. ‘Not your rationale, but the fact you admitted it.’

‘It doesn’t change anything,’ he says, folding his arms and leaning away from me. ‘I’m not the guy for you.’

‘Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?’ I jerk my head at the screen. ‘Now sign off on this so I can get your fabulous campaign up and running, then I can organise a last-minute seat on this flight.’

He startles, like he doesn’t expect I’ll be boarding with him. ‘I doubt you’ll get on this flight.’

I make a grand show of looking around the boarding gate area, where there are many vacant seats. ‘Really?’

He huffs out a breath. ‘I’m making you do this, it’s only fair I buy your ticket.’

‘Fine. I’m unemployed at the moment and last-minute tickets cost a fortune.’

If he’s surprised by my quick capitulation he doesn’t show it. ‘Here. Let me sign off, then I’ll book you a ticket online.’

I slide my laptop across to him, drumming my fingers impatiently against my leg. I want him to do this fast so he doesn’t change his mind, because wanting me to accompany him to Sydney, albeit to scare me off, is huge. I didn’t expect it. I thought I’d have to do a lot more cajoling—once I actually caught up with him, that is. I envisaged more resistance, less cooperation.

‘There. Signed. I’ll do the hard copy later.’ He hands me back the laptop and slides his phone out of his pocket.

He eyes my radiant smile with suspicion as he swipes his finger across the screen, pulling up the relevant website to book me a ticket. He frowns and my heart sinks. I’m not getting on this flight.

When he flips the phone towards me so I can see the screen, I beam.

‘Sorry to disappoint, but it looks like I’m coming with you to Sydney.’

His frown deepens. ‘So it seems.’

‘Is it too much to hope I scored a seat next to you?’

He rolls his eyes but I glimpse the glimmer of a smile. ‘Unfortunately, I have to put up with you next to me for the full one-hour-twenty-minute flight.’

‘Yay.’ I do a little dance with my hands clasped, arms outstretched, and shoulders rolling.

His frown vanishes. ‘See? You’re definitely crazy.’

‘Crazy about you,’ I murmur, hoping he can see how much he means to me in my eyes.

When he leans forward to brush a kiss across my lips, I sigh.

I’m one step closer to that elusive happiness I crave so badly.