Page 57 of The Question of Us
It was frustrating as all hell, but the presence of the marquee at least affirmed the partywasbeing held outside, and the garden terracing did offer a tempting place for Nick to sequester himself and keep an eye on Gazza.
“We should try to buy a pair of binoculars in town on the way back,” Nick suggested. “The small ones. It’ll make things a lot easier if I can’t get close.”
I agreed and we added it to the list.
So far, so good.
We headed back to the main road, feeling a little more confident, and gave the news to Gazza. Next on the list was finding a spot for me to safely park the car and wait for the othertwo to finish. This took a little longer to nut out. There weren’t many options with enough cover to stop someone being curious or even calling the police on us.
In the end, we chose the only real solution—parking up a fire access road about half a kilometre away. It wasn’t anywhere near close enough for my peace of mind, but it was pretty much that or even further away. The upside. No one could spot me from the house or the road. The downside. I could see the roof of Marty’s house, but that was about it.
When we parked and cut the engine, I made no bones about the fact that I didn’t like it one little bit and waited for the eye rolls.
“You got a better solution?” Gazza leaned forward between the front seats and stared through the windscreen toward the house.
“Not helping,” I snapped.
Nick took my hand, which only ramped me up on the pissiness scale. “Be sensible, Mads.”
I barely suppressed a growl. Another notch and climbing.
Nick continued, either oblivious or dismissive, neither of which did him any favours. “Even if you were parked closer, what good would it do? It’s not like you can ride up to the house like the cavalry and sweep us to safety if we find trouble. The driveway would be a trap. Gazza and I would have to make a run for it over the fields or down the service entrance and meet you on the road. A few extra seconds aren’t going to make any difference.”
I said nothing, continuing to glare straight ahead through the windscreen while hating to admit that he was right.
Nick reached across and turned my cheek to face him, his voice gentling as he said, “If you want to call it, we will. We agreed, remember? Any one of us can pull the plug at any time, no questions asked.”
“Maybe,” Gazza grumbled, earning himself a sharp look from Nick. “Okay, fine. Any one of us, any time. Got it.” He fell back in his seat with his arms folded petulantly across his chest.
Nick’s soft grey eyes landed back on mine. “It’s your call.”
I narrowed my gaze. “Come on. You know damn well I won’t call it off on this one thing. All I’m saying is that I’d feel better if I had eyes on the house and the driveway the whole time.”
“I know.” Nick followed my gaze toward the roof in the distance. “And believe me, I’d like that too. But it’s not gonna happen.” His thumb caressed my cheek. “Are we okay?”
I took a breath and nodded. “We’re okay. And, ah... thanks for the reminder about calling it off.” I pressed a kiss into the palm of his hand. “I appreciate it.”
As Thursday morningpassed into Thursday afternoon, Nick’s excuses moved from the sublime to the ridiculous—any and every reason not to call his brother-in-law. By late afternoon, when we pulled back into the motel parking lot, I was done with his procrastinating arse and threatened him with very specific bodily harm if he didn’t suck it up and get the job done.
“If you hadn’t said it, I would,” Gazza grumbled over his shoulder as he flung open the door to his unit. “Jesus, I’ve never heard so many pathetic excuses from a grown man. Anyone would think you were scared of Samuel.”
Beside me, Nick visibly stiffened, and I bit back a smile. If he’d been a lion, he would’ve popped his claws. I had to hand it to my apprentice; Gazza was as crafty as they came. Accusing Nick of being scared of someone was a surefire way to get the man to prove Gazza wrong.
To that end, Nick threw open the door of our next-door unit saying overly loudly, “I amnotscared of Samuel. I just don’t want him to think we need his help, which we don’t, by the way. He’s smug enough as it is.”
“But wedoneed his help,” I argued, frustration mounting. “How would you feel if the shoe was on the other foot?” Which earned me another scowl.
Gazza poked his head through the open door between the units, wearing a shit-eating grin. “Yeah, what he said. Come on. Batter up, big guy. Let’s bring this puppy home.”
Nick sighed and lobbed a damp tea towel at Gazza who caught it and proceeded to flick Nick on the bum. “Ow!” Nick launched himself at the younger man and Gazza ran squealing back to his own room.
“Children, children.” I grabbed Nick’s arm before he could follow and pushed him into a chair at the dining table. Then I slid his phone in front of him and levelled him with a glare. “Do it. Now.”
He scowled up at me. “And who’s gonna make me?”
I simply raised a brow and said nothing.
“Fine,” he muttered, picking up the phone. “You’re not selling the whole friends-are-good-for-you deal, just so you know.”
