Page 40 of Covert

“Sure, Mother.” He took a deep breath, hoping she couldn’t read the dejection on his face.

He should’ve known better. As soon as Liz entered the room, his mother homed in on his mood immediately.

“Is everything all right?”

“Of course.”

He avoided eye contact, knowing he’d always been a lousy liar. Pity he hadn’t felt the same earlier that day; he had little trouble hiding the truth about his feelings from Sam.

Liz sat down on his bed and patted the spot next to her. “Come here and tell me all about it.”

He stiffened, not willing to admit the truth to his mother. Hell, he was having a hard enough time admitting it to himself.

And then, with the unerring precision of a lifetime spent reading him, she guessed his main problem.

“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

He schooled his expression into impassivity, knowing it wouldn’t fool his mother.

“You’ve been reading too many romance novels. Isn’t it time you branched out into another genre, like crime?”

His mother shook her head, as if he’d disappointed her with his glib response.

“The only crime around here is the one occurring right in front of me. When are you going to learn that taking a chance on love isn’t so bad?”

“Who said anything about love?”

She smiled, that same knowing smile she’d given him when he’d pulled out his first tooth and said it had fallen out, when he’d fibbed about a stomach ache to avoid an exam at school, when he’d said his first love bite was a result of a snooker cue accidentally hitting him in the neck.

“You don’t have to say a thing. It’s written all over your face.” She clasped her hands together as her grin broadened. “A mother knows these things.”

“Leave it alone, please. I don’t want to talk about it.”

He paced the room, feeling like a circus lion about to be prodded into jumping through hoops. Too cruel.

“If you don’t want to talk to me, why don’t you talk to the lady in question?”

He remembered the expression on Sam’s face as she’d flung that comment about his mood at him before leaving Budgeree. Though she’d used sass to cover her hurt, he’d seen right through her, feeling like a bastard in the process.

And what had he done? Absolutely nothing.

“Sam and I need to sort out a few issues.”

Liz’s expression brightened at his admission and he held up a hand before she rushed out to start planning the wedding. “They involve her ongoing employment, not the state of her heart. Or mine, for that matter.”

“Shame.”

His mother’s disappointment surprised him. Sure, she wanted to see him married off—she’d been not-so-subtle in shoving him in Monique Taylor’s direction for years—but why push him toward Sam? She barely knew her.

So why was his mother almost forcing him to admit his love for Sam?

“Fine. If you want to talk to your decrepit old mother, I’m here for you.” She stood and straightened her skirt. “Just remember, darling. Follow your heart.”

She kissed him on the cheek, before leaving him alone with a host of unwelcome thoughts, most of them centred around Sam and how he could make it up to her for his atrocious behaviour.

30

Sam didn’t unpack on her return to Melbourne.

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