Chapter Thirteen
The bubble didn’t burst the minute they buckled up. The bubble followed them right back into town and stayed firmly intact as they played happy families during the day, happier lovers during the night. Waking up in the morning to his lips at her neck, his hard body curled around hers.
It helped that by tacit agreement neither of them talked about what was happening. It was far easier to let the intimacy take over than to actually talk about it. Because if they talked about it, they’d have to name it—define it—and neither of them wanted to poke that bear with a stick.
JJ certainly didn’t. She’d been given the rare and precious gift of time. And if she couldn’t have him forever, if he couldn’t ever love her because Delia still had a foothold in his heart or she’d scarred him for life or whatever, then JJ wanted these weeks and months with him.
And the lawyer said it could take up to three months for their case to be heard.
She knew in her heart of hearts she should be pushing him for answers. Trying to explore his thoughts and his feelings—going all Dr Phil on him. But she was afraid of what he’d say. Afraid he’d look at her with confusion and wariness.
She’d take lust and hunger any day—she liked them. A lot.
She’d take what she could get and she would not rock the boat. She knew her time was finite. Shane would be gone and the custody case would eventually be over.
And who knew where she’d stand then?
On Wednesday her bubble got a whole new injection of gloss and helium. Ethan strode into the pub not long after opening, a grin as broad as an outback horizon lighting his face. JJ’s breath caught in her throat. Even without the uniform he was an exceptionally good-looking man, but there was something very macho about his navy police fatigues and his loaded utility belt.
She remembered the first time she’d seen him in uniform. She’d attended his graduation ceremony in Brisbane and he was all dressed up in his formal blues. Marcus had told him he looked like a city boy, his mother had cried and straightened his tie and Delia had pouted about his lack of a gun.
JJ had been torn between bursting with pride and swooning at his feet.
The formal uniform was very different to the one that was coming at her now—but both of them sure as hell made the man. A navy cap with a trim of white police checks sat low on his brow, non-regulation shaggy hair flowing loosely behind like a goddamn freaking rock star. In a uniform.
He stood on the other side of the bar, but sexual energy arced between them and pulled at her despite the sturdy wooden construction separating them. “I think you should kiss me right away,” he announced, leaning in, his elbows on the bar.
JJ’s fingers tightened around the glass in her hand as her belly looped a crazy loop. “Well, I don’t know what you’ve heard, Officer Weston,” she said primly, “but I’m just not that easy.”
The look in his eyes told her he knew exactly how easy she was. She filled the glass with water. “And what makes you so chipper this morning?” She remembered going down on her knees in front of him in the shower a few hours ago and, as she handed him the glass, she knew he was thinking about it too. “Apart from the obvious,” she smiled.
He smiled back before taking a long swallow of his water and JJ admired the bob of his throat. “I went to a call-out at the Nicolson property just now.”
JJ’s smile faded. There was shearing going on at the Nicolson’s right now. JJ narrowed her gaze. It was obviously good news and it was obviously about Shane. Her heart beat a little faster—dare she hope? “I’m going to like this, aren’t I?”
“Yup,” he nodded. “You’re going to freaking love it.”
“Well, come on, officer,” She reached across and whipped his cap off, pulling it low on her own head. “Spit it out!”
It was gratifying that his gaze lingered on the row of buttons that secured her T-shirt. Heat flared in his eyes and she was surprised they didn’t all spontaneously pop in response. Her nipples certainly had.
“God, you look sexy in that cap,” he muttered.
“Ethan!” she said in exasperation.
“Shane’s gone,” he announced. “He was caught red-handed stealing one of the other shearer’s iPod while everyone was eating breakfast. He was sacked on the spot and the foreman told him he’d give him a few hours head start before he called the cops.”
JJ blinked as the worry and the tension of the last month seeped from her marrow. Hell, she hadn’t realised she’d been that worried about it until it all suddenly released.
“Really?” she asked, too afraid to believe it in case it was something she’d dreamed up. “He’s really gone?”
Ethan nodded. “The other shearer didn’t want to press any charges so no-one’s going to be chasing him, but I’ve been talking to head office and Shane’s car was caught on a highway camera crossing the border.”
JJ couldn’t believe her luck. “You’re right,” she said, “I do freaking love it.”
Almost as much as I love you.
The thought rose and fell in the blink of an eye. “Now it’s just the wicked witch of the west to vanquish and we’ll both have our lives back.”
She kept her smile on straight even though the thought of living separate lives again was like a hot fist being rammed into her diaphragm.
Ethan chuckled. “Oh I do love the way you say vanquish,” he murmured. “Especially in that cap.” He leaned in closer. “I’m wondering how good you’d look saying it in that cap with your shirt undone,” he said and JJ’s insides tightened at the dirty in his voice. He grabbed her hand across the bar. “They won’t miss you here for ten minutes will they?”
JJ looked around at the near-empty pub, just a few punters entertaining themselves. She let Ethan drag her along, their hands linked over the top of the bar. “Where are we going?” she laughed.
“Your office, where I can undo those ridiculous buttons.”
JJ’s pulse leapt. She let his hand go once they got to the end of the long bar then let him into the bar area through a hinged section of the wood.
“Be back in a few minutes,” she said in the general direction of her customers, before Ethan whisked her out the back and down the short corridor to her very rudimentary office.
He fell on her the minute the door was shut behind them, pushing her hard against it. “God,” he said, his hands making short work of the buttons, his mouth at her neck. “This is good. I can never seem to get you to myself.”
JJ shut her eyes, holding on to his shoulders for stability as her head spun. Ethan ran his tongue from the hollow of her throat all the way up to her chin and she clutched at him even harder as her knees threatened to give out. “You have me to yourself all night,” she panted.
“I meant during the day.” He peeled her shirt back and looked down at her breasts and JJ felt like she had a set of double Ds instead of paltry As. He raised his hands to stroke the inner swells of her cleavage and her nipples hardened. “I like to touch you during the day too.”
Her breath caught, her hands went lax on his shoulders—he did?
He bent his head to drop kisses where his hands had just been. “If it’s not your customers, it’s Connie or one of my bloody siblings.”
JJ arched her back. She smiled as she remembered the brisk clearing of a masculine throat this morning as Ethan’s hand had wandered into her underwear the second he’d lifted her on to the bench next to the coffee percolator and walked in between her parted thighs.
Jarrod had raised an eyebrow at them as they’d quickly separated. “I hope you’re going to wipe that top down when you’re finished. By the way, I just saw Connie get up.”
Despite the fact neither Marcus or Jarrod lived at the house anymore, they still dropped by whenever they damn well pleased. But there was no-one here now. Not Connie. Not Jarrod. Not her customers. Just her and him.
“Now say vanquish,” he whispered in her ear as his fingers found her fly and his hand found its way
inside her pants.
“Ethan,” she gasped, clutching his arm as he burrowed into her slickness and heat.
He groaned. “God, you’re wet.”
She reached for him, for access to his cock, which taunted her through two lots of fabric, but her fingers got lost trying to just get into his uniform. “Jesus,” she muttered. “Are these corruption proof?”
He laughed and it was so low and hot and sexy in her ear she almost came right there and then. “Forget it,” he said as he kissed her mouth and her neck and her shoulder and pushed a finger deep inside her. “Just you.”
“Ethan.” She wasn’t sure if it was a moan, a gasp or a protest. All she knew was she wanted more and when he pushed another finger inside her she cried out—loud enough to be heard outside.
“Shh,” he murmured, claiming her lips, cutting her off. And when she bucked he whispered, “Easy there,” against her mouth.
JJ’s orgasm built like greased lightning as Ethan simultaneously invaded her hot centre with the hard thrust of his fingers and plundered the soft contours of her mouth with the hard thrust of his tongue.
In a short few weeks he knew how to push her buttons better than any man she had ever known.
It was no surprise to her when she crested quickly, bearing down on the hard intrusion of his fingers, clamping tight as he smothered her noisy release with his mouth.
She came down slowly from the cloud thanks to the last vestiges of her orgasm lingering in her abdominal muscles. He was raining butterfly kisses over her face and neck, his fingers long withdrawn, as she finally came back to the present.
“Jesus, Ethan,” she swore. “How am I supposed to go to work now?”
He kissed her hard. So hard her head banged back against the door. “Same as me,” he muttered when he finally came up for air. “Counting down the hours until tonight.”
Sunday arrived, as did the weekly tradition of everyone gathering at the Weston house for lunch. Ethan enjoyed himself immensely, despite Connie being at Delia’s. He’d spoken with his ex this week and she seemed much more reasonable about managing this as best they could with Connie’s interests being the priority. Connie was going to be home in a few hours and they were all going to put the Christmas tree up together.
Between that and the threat of Shane gone, Ethan felt like a weight had been lifted. Like maybe everything was going to work out okay.
And then there was JJ.
Sitting around the table with everyone, laughing and chatting, touching him, smiling at him when he touched her, like they’d been together for years. Like she belonged. Like she was a Weston.
But the buzz ended abruptly after they’d finished their meals with the banging of the front door and a distressed Connie bursting into the kitchen, followed closely by the young police constable, Carl Stevens.
Ethan stood, blood draining from his face at the state of his daughter and Carl’s serious face. “Connie? What the—” he said as she hurtled into his arms.
“Chief,” Carl nodded, cap in hand, awkwardly shuffling his feet.
Ethan was too stunned to say anything for a moment as Connie buried her face in his stomach and cried great loud heaving sobs. He glanced at JJ who looked just as stunned and he wished she was by his side.
“What the hell is going on?” he demanded, returning his attention to Carl.
“I was coming back into town after a call-out and I found her walking along the highway, Chief. She was like this … bawling … she wouldn’t tell me what was wrong, she just … kept crying and saying she wanted to go home. So I brought her here.”
“On the highway into town?” Ethan asked incredulously.
He looked down at Connie’s head. She was supposed to be with her mother, who lived fifteen kilometres out on Edward’s sheep station. What the hell was she doing on the highway?
Ethan went hot and cold as a million possible scenarios—all of them bad—flitted through his head. Anything could have happened to her. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hug her tighter or spank her.
Ethan nodded. “Okay, Carl, thanks, you did the right thing,” he assured as the young man twisted his cap in his hands around and around. Ethan stuck out his hand over Connie’s head and shook Carl’s hand. “Really, you did good. Thank you.”
Carl relaxed for the first time and eagerly withdrew when Ethan said, “I’ll take it from here.”
Ethan stroked his daughter’s hair for a moment or two, the faint slapping of the screen door heralding Carl’s departure. Her crying continued, her little shoulders heaving and he was so grateful she was here, she was safe, that he temporarily forgot about the mini-heart attack she’d just given him.
He was aware of everyone’s gaze on him, waiting for him to do or say something. Ethan roused his wits as relief gave way to worry. “Okay,” he said, prising Connie’s arms gently from around his waist. “What on earth’s the matter?” he asked, looking down into her tear-streaked face. She looked like her entire world had ended. “Are you hurt? Did something happen? Did someone …”
He couldn’t even bring himself to think it let alone say it. If anyone had laid a finger on her he was going to throw his badge in, hunt them down and kill them with his bare hands.
Connie shook her head at him like she had that day her grandmother was gone—in utter disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded, choking on a sob, scrubbing her hands across her eyes.
Ethan frowned and wished he knew what the hell she was talking about. She’d had her irrational hormonal moments the last six months or so, but he’d never seen her this upset.
“Tell you what?”
“That I was going to live with Mum,” she yelled. “Why didn’t you tell me that you didn’t want me anymore?” Her face collapsed. “I won’t go,” she cried, stamping her foot, her bob swinging, fresh tears falling. “I won’t, I won’t, I won’t.”
Then she flung her arms around his waist again.
Ethan blinked. What the fuck? White-hot rage flared in his veins as realisation dawned. He was going to kill Delia. They’d agreed on the phone that they weren’t going to say anything to Connie until a court date had been set. And that they were going to do it together.
He looked at JJ, too angry to be articulate, hoping she could be the voice of reason while he pulled himself together, but she looked just as pissed off.
He took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said, sitting down on the chair behind him and dragging her onto his lap. Connie buried her face in his neck, still weeping for Australia. He pulled his head back, trying to see into her face but she clung to him, refusing to lift her forehead.
“Look at me, Connie,” he said. When she ignored him he said, “You’re not going anywhere, sweetie.”
Connie choked on another sob as she glanced up at him. “I’m n-not?”
Not if he could help it. “No,” He smiled at her and hoped to God he was right. He brushed her sweaty fringe off her face and used his thumbs to wipe away her tears. “Tell me what your mum said.” He needed to get his facts straight if he ever hoped to untwist the knot Delia had created.
JJ handed Connie a tissue. “Here kiddo, blow your nose,” she said, and Ethan smiled at her gratefully as his daughter obediently blew and wiped and handed the tissue back to JJ.
Connie looked at her father. “She said that it was her turn with me now. That you didn’t know how to raise a hormonal teenage girl. That you and Uncle Marcus and Uncle Jarrod wouldn’t want to be bothered with all that girl stuff.”
“Not me,” Marcus said. “I love girl stuff.”
“Same here,” Jarrod agreed. “Girls rock.”
They were keeping things light, trying to be their usual laid-back selves, but Ethan had known his brothers long enough to hear the tightness of their tones.
Still, Connie laughed and God knew things did need lightening at the moment.
He chose his next words carefully. He’d always been honest with Connie, but he knew some things didn’t ha
ve easy answers. And as much as he wanted to badmouth Delia in front of his daughter, he hadn’t in the past and he wasn’t going to start right now.
His ex was here to stay and he was going to have to deal with it.
“Yes,” he said, “your mum wants you to go and live with her full time.”
Connie gasped. “But—”
“It’s okay,” he cut her off. “That doesn’t mean it’s going to happen. I want you, we all want you,” he clarified, looking around at everyone gathered at the table, who were all nodding appropriately, “living here. Just like you always have. But …” if Delia continues to be militant about it “… we might have to go to court and tell a judge that.”
Connie’s eyes grew wide. “A judge?”
“Maybe,” he confirmed. “But I’m hoping it won’t get that far and if it does then we’ll all be there with you.”
Connie looked around the table. “Really?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” JJ said and everyone agreed.
Connie’s little shoulders sagged and she sighed dramatically. “Okay,” she said and tucked her head in under Ethan’s chin.
Ethan shut his eyes and let out a shaky breath. “Okay,” he murmured and he just held her close for a few moments, allowing the whirlpool of emotions filling his chest free rein.
“Connie, sweetie,” JJ asked after a moment or two. “How on earth did you end up on the highway?”
“I told Mum I didn’t want to live with her, that I would hate her forever if she made me, and she sent me to my room to think about what I’d said and to come back down when I was more polite. So I climbed out the window and ran away.”
Ethan looked down into his daughter’s defiant little face. “That was really dangerous, sweetie,” he scolded. “Anything could have happened to you.” The thought was almost turning him grey on the spot—Connie was usually so level-headed. “I was coming to get you in two hours, for Pete’s sake, why didn’t you just wait?”
“I needed to see you,” Connie said, snuggling back in under his chin again and holding on to his arm for good measure.
“So … she thinks you’re still in your bedroom?” JJ asked.
Ethan blinked. Trust JJ to think about the practicalities. He’d been too relieved Connie was safe to worry about Delia. But as much as he wanted to shake her right now, he could only imagine her panic when she found Connie’s room empty.
“I’ll ring her,” JJ said.
“Thanks.” He smiled at her, so grateful she was around, keeping a cool head.
“Can we put the Christmas tree up now, Daddy?” Connie asked, as JJ left the room with her phone.
“Absolutely,” he nodded. “We’ll just wait for JJ.”
It didn’t seem right to start without her.