Page 50 of Seduction Under the Southern Stars

“That’s fantastic,” I reply. “It gives you a few days before you have to go to Christchurch. If it’s positive, maybe he’ll want to meet you.”

“I hope so.” He blows out a breath. “I’m trying not to think about it too much. I don’t want to get disappointed.”

Fraser’s brows draw together. “Hopefully it’ll be good news,” he says.

“Yeah.”

“Well, shall we go to the lab now,” I suggest, getting to my feet, “and then maybe we can go and get some lunch?”

“Sounds great,” Fraser replies. “I’m starving.”

I meet his gaze. He lifts his eyebrows.

I put my hands on my hips and glare at him for about ten seconds.

Linc watches this silent argument between brother and sister, trying not to laugh.

Eventually, Fraser huffs a sigh. Then he says, “Come to think of it, I have some sandwiches in my desk, so I guess I don’t have to go out.”

“Excellent,” I reply. “Enjoy.”

Linc and I go over to the sink and wash our hands. I’m conscious of Fraser glowering behind me, but I ignore him, grab my purse when I’m done, gesture to Linc to follow me, and head out of the conservation room.

Linc falls into step with me as we head out. I glance at him and find him smiling.

“He means well,” he says.

I huff a sigh. “I know. and I’ve really appreciated everything he’s done for me. Joel and Dad are the same. But they forget I’ve grown up. Just because I seem vulnerable at times, it doesn’t mean I don’t want to try to cope on my own, and I certainly don’t need them vetting my boyfriends.” I blink. “Not that you’re my boyfriend. Shit.”

He chuckles.

“I meant the people I spend time with.”

“I know. And obviously they mean well. They’re just a little heavy handed with it.”

Glad he understands, I watch him pull his phone out of his jacket pocket and bring up the Uber app. He types in his destination and orders the Uber.

“Three minutes,” he says.

We stand side by side on the pavement, waiting.

“Was he nice?” I ask. “Edmund, I mean?”

“He was shocked at first, but I expected that. It was when he saw the photo that he changed.”

“He thought you looked alike?”

“I guess. He was less hostile after that. And he was nice when I said about Dad dying. Don, I mean. I’m not calling him Dad anymore.”

His expression hardens. I don’t argue, because I understand completely. I’m not going to say, ‘Oh but he was a good father for so many years,’ because he wasn’t. He physically abused Linc in some of the most awful ways possible.

“He said Mum was a lovely little thing,” Linc says distantly. “I can’t imagine that.”

I know the fact that Nancy Green never defended her son against Don’s attacks hurt Linc terribly. He knows it must have been difficult for her to stand up to such an abusive man, but neither of us will ever understand why she didn’t walk out when the abuse became recurrent.

“I hope it’s him,” I say. Then, because he looks sad, and he’s gorgeous, and because I want to, and I know he won’t mind, I slide my arms around his waist and give him a hug.

He immediately puts his arms around me, tightly enough to suggest he doesn’t want me to move.

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