Page 66 of Nothing Without You

Tears started to fall and she turned away. There had been too much hurt and sorrow between now, and then. ‘I don’t want another relationship.’

‘This is different. This is me. You can trust me. I will never let you down.’

Finally, she dared to look at him. She didn’t want him to see her eyes. Not only because of the tears but also because he could read her thoughts. He had always been able to.

‘I know you’ve been hurt, Evie. I can see it in your eyes. You don’t trust anyone. But you can trust me. I want you to be with me. I want to look after you and make you happy. To give you what you deserve.’

‘Your life is so different to mine,’ Evie finally said. ‘Your work, your home and your friends. Everything is … nice.’

‘You deserve that too.’ He stroked her cheek and she felt it burn. His face was so close to hers. When he came closer, she closed her eyes, his lips pressing ever so softly on hers. This time she let her defences drop. His aftershave was a sweet scent, and mixed with the taint of beer on his breath and the soft touch of his hands on her arms, she felt her body ache. Kissing him back, she let him draw her body into his, their hearts, souls and bodies blending as one.

Chapter Seventy-Seven

When she dropped Chris home that night, she joked with him, laughing when he tried so hard to persuade her to come in for a drink. ‘No,’ she said, raising her eyebrows and casting a stern look his way. ‘You’ve had a heap of beers, and I don’t want alcohol or any rushed decisions to be another mistake I make. I’ll see you when you have time to visit.’

He kissed her again, tempting her to go inside with him. She wanted to make sure though, that it wasn’t the beer affecting his judgement, and that the next time she saw him, he thought the same as he did tonight.

The following day she rose early. After a quick breakfast, she packed her fishing gear and headed for the beach. A new gutter had formed only last week, and it was a perfect spot for the fish. As the sun crept over the horizon, she spun her first cast into the swirling currents. A soft pink blushed the space above the horizon, its hazy colours morphing into a light blue, the first signs of the morning light. Whitecaps flicked and danced along the top of the waves, and a light spray dampened her face. It was cool this morning, and she was glad she had thrown a sloppy Joe over the top of her T-shirt. Her favourite denim shorts were wet from where a wave had flicked up higher than the others.

Intent on watching the sunrise, as well as waiting for that first tug on her line, she jumped when she heard someone next to her. ‘Got anything yet?’

Smiling, she turned around. ‘Not yet. I just arrived. You’re up bright and early. How are you feeling?’

Chris coughed and took a deep breath. ‘Great. Nothing a hearty breakfast and a few Beroccas can’t fix.’ His fishing bag hung from his shoulder and he reached into it, grabbing some bait for his line. When he cast out, she laughed. ‘Look at your bloody expensive rod. Let’s see who catches the fish.’

The sun was well above the horizon and halfway up the eastern part of the sky when they decided to call it quits. ‘One, two, three, four, five, six. I have six bream and four dart as well as the piece de resistance, a mulloway,’ she quipped, holding her bucket in the air.

As they made their way up the beach, he joked with her. ‘But I have eight bream and five dart. I have more fish.’

She shook her head. ‘You know I won. You still haven’t caught a mulloway. Maybe you should borrow my Alvey. Well, it’s yours anyway. It’s from your shed.’

‘Agh, so it’s not about the skill really, only the gear?’

She playfully nudged him. ‘It’s all about the skill, and I’ve got it.’

When they reached The Magic Fish, he followed her into the yard and they hosed down the fishing gear. ‘C’mon in for a cup of tea,’ she said. ‘There might even be some biscuits in the cupboard if you’re lucky.’

‘I need a drink of water,’ he said.

‘You had too much to drink last night.’

‘I know. I think I was so excited that you were coming to the pub. It was a great night.’

She steered away from any reference to last night, instead talking about the morning of fishing. When they sat on the front steps, sipping a cup of tea, he told her how much the others had enjoyed her company. They all asked me to make sure I bring you next time.’

‘I’d like that. I enjoyed talking to them and playing pool again.’

He pushed his shoulder gently against hers. ‘Last night brought back a lot of good memories for me. Sometimes I get too wrapped up in work and forget about the fun moments. Mind you, maybe not so many beers next time.’

The sun was starting to warm her feet, the rest of her body cooled by the shade from the overhanging tin roof. In front of them, lorikeets flitted in and out of the weeping paperbarks. The branches were covered in white flowers, the strong sweet scent of their nectar filling the yard. The grass needed mowing and dandelion flowers dotted the yard, bees flying from one flower to the next. It was Spring and everything was taking on new life. Regular night-time rain kept everything lush, and the grass, trees and shrubs that lined the property were green and healthy.

‘New life,’ she said, pointing to a mother duck walking along the footpath and through the gate, followed by seven tiny ducklings. ‘It’s Spring.’

They watched the ducklings until they could no longer see them. Chris turned to her, his eyes bright in the morning sun. ‘Have you thought about what I said last night? I know I’d drunk copious beers, but my mind was clear, and what I said is exactly how I feel.’

She wriggled her toes and took a deep breath, aware of his arm brushing against hers. A tingling sensation ran through her body. ‘It all makes me nervous.’

‘What does?’

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