Give Me Love (30 page)

We placed our order for lunch, and Jenna, having taught Mac everything she needed to know on how to spend money, pulled out her shopping list and turned to me. “Do you have your list?”

I picked up my handbag and sat it on my lap. Casey sighed in exasperation as I repeatedly jabbed him with my elbow while I dug around in its hidden depths. It couldn’t be helped. We were sitting so close I may as well have been in his lap. I gave an apologetic smile.

“I just have to get those shoes we looked at for Mac and then I’m done.”

We chatted until the waitress returned with our sandwiches, and I heard my phone beep a message. I pulled my handbag back up on my lap to dig for my phone and Casey sighed.

“It’s probably Mac with the supermarket list she said she’d send through.”

I frowned at the blocked number and opened the message.

Hello, beautiful Evie. I like your new male accessory. What a collection you have. You certainly managed to land on your feet after last night but not to worry. Your day will come.

My breath hitched as I fumbled the phone with clammy hands and it dropped to the floor. Casey picked it up and promptly read the message, a frown marring his brow.

“Fuck.” He pulled out his phone and started dialling.

Jenna patted my hand soothingly. “What is it, honey?”

I showed them both the message.

“Frank,” Casey said into the phone as he indicated for all of us to round up our things and move out. I looked forlornly at my sandwich as we were ushered out the door, Casey throwing some cash on the counter on our way through, continuing his phone conversation.

Chapter Seventeen

Christmas day was spent at Steve and Jenna’s house by the barbecue and pool since Christmas in Australia was in the middle of summer and hot. The food was kept simple with grilled steak, cold roast chicken, and salads. Presents were unwrapped and Jared loved the coffee machine I’d bought him so much, I spent the next hour making him espresso until he was completely buzzed.

Jared bought me a beautiful pair of diamond stud earrings that I specifically remember eyeing in the jewellery store with Casey, and I made a mental note to message Casey later to say thanks. Later that afternoon, Jared answered a knock at the front door of his parent’s house and returned with a big white box. It was tied with a bright red bow, and I squealed with delight when Jared said the box was for me.

I was lying out by the pool in a cushioned deck chair and sat up as he set the box at my feet. “Who’s it from?”

“Just open it, babe.”

Everyone crowded around and waited for me to open it, Coby and Mac swimming to the pool edge and resting their elbows on the sandstone pavers as they watched. I gave them all a suspicious look when I heard an odd sound and quickly pulled the ribbon apart and took off the big white lid.

I let out a shout when a pair of big brown eyes attached to a ball of soft reddish brown fur and a wagging tail yipped at me. Tears filled my eyes and I brought my hands to my cheeks in disbelief as I raised my eyes to Jared’s.

“You remembered,” I whispered, thinking back to our text message conversation of years before.

“Babe,” he said softly, a smile curving his lips.

E: Do you have any pets?

J: There’s golden orb spider that hangs out under the eaves of our deck. Does that count?

E: It only counts if he has a name.

J: His name is Gideon the Gold. He’s very fierce.

E: Sounds a bit pompous to me.

J: Don’t go hurting his feelings now. He’s also very sensitive. What about you?

E: No. I argued with Mum the day before my sixteenth birthday for a dachshund puppy because I’d always wanted one.

He knew she’d died the next day, so I had left the obvious unsaid.

I reached into the box and picked up the tiny bundle of fur, cuddling him against my chest as he squirmed and wriggled, his sandpapery little tongue attacking my cheek. The puppy got passed around excitedly until I eventually plopped him on the grass.

Mac got out of the pool and flopped down next to us. “Oh, my little baby boy,” she crooned as the puppy wriggled excitedly and climbed all over her. “You are such a cute little man, oh yes you are.” She gave me a meaningful look. “Everyone knows a puppy is a trial baby.”

I could see Jenna’s eyes twinkle at this statement, but she still shook her head at Mac. “I can’t wait for you to have kids, my darling, if you think it’s as simple as raising a dog.”

Mac frowned at her mum as she stood up and wrapped a beach towel around her waist. “Of course I don’t.”

Jenna picked up an empty tray and headed for the kitchen. Mac followed. “You know if Jared and Evie have a baby then you’ll leave the rest of us alone.” Her chatter continued as she followed her mum to the kitchen until I couldn’t hear any more.

Jared crouched next to me on the grass and we watched the puppy for a moment as he did some business before stopping to chew on some grass. “So what are you going to call our little man?”

I sipped my drink thoughtfully. “Peter.”

“Peter?” he laughed.

I grinned. “I have a thing about dogs having human names.”

He ruffled my hair. “Yeah? Why is that?”

“Because it’s cool. Look at him, he’s already got serious street cred.” Peter had his paws up against a small tree, yipping at a tiny garden lizard that scurried away for its life. “Already taking down the creatures of the neighbourhood.”

We watched as he made a swift move for Jenna’s vegetable garden and yanked out a carrot with immense delight. He began barking and dancing around the orange vegetable as though waiting for it to jump up and join in his playful game.

“Oh shit,” Jared muttered. “Peter!” Peter stopped and looked at us. “Would you look at that? He already knows his name.”

The next morning found us in the loft, waking to a shredded couch cushion, a nasty unmentionable on the timber flooring in the corner behind the dining table, and the little Christmas tree I’d set up a week ago on its side. Bits of tinsel lined a festive yet damning trail towards the bathroom from where Travis let out a shout. I immediately scooped Peter up and headed for the safety of the front door.

* * *

A pair of chewed shoes, a shredded roll of toilet paper, numerous inside unmentionables, and a week later, I stood stiffly in the studio dressing room for a photography shoot for Jamieson.

Because Jimmy was still at large, apparently he was some sort of super villain with the special power of invisibility, Jared and Peter had accompanied us and were waiting out in the lounge area while the five of us stood in the dressing room getting ready.

I pulled the shirt off the rack that was listed with my name and held it up dubiously. “Uh, hmm, do you think there’s more to it than this?”

The light of the window had the sun shining right through the sheer fabric. It was white, with a collar and buttons up the front, almost like an office shirt, but the sleeves had gathers up the sides to the elbows and tied with little red bows.

Henry shrugged at my question.

“For once I wish Mac was here,” I muttered.

Mac wished she was too, but it was party season which meant we were booked solid. This left her channelling Ripley under the drowning weight of work and us running for our lives whenever we hit her sights. Even Peter, who had rapidly climbed the aggressive ranks of the doghood on our street in just the past week, scampered out of her path.

Bec, a short, fine-boned lady with spikey hair, who looked far too young to be the capable stylist she appeared to be, poked her head in the dressing room. “All set?”

“Um, no.” I waved the shirt about. “Is there something I’m supposed to be wearing underneath this?”

“Nope. That’s it, no bra either please.” She left, shutting the door behind her.

Frog and Cooper let out matching shouts of laughter as I stood in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, but did she just tell me to get naked?”

“Pretty much.” Cooper smirked as he took his own shirt off and threw it in the corner. “Get your gear off.”

Frog shrugged. “Just ask Bec if you can wear something else.”

“I can’t,” I wailed. “This is our first proper photo shoot. I don’t want to set the precedent of being labelled a prima donna.”

The four boys slid on their provided jeans and stood around bare chested. In minutes they were done. I’d been worked on for
hours.

“At least get the pants on, Evie, then I’ll go get the stylist for you and see if she has something else,” Jake offered.

“Thanks, Jakie,” I said gratefully.

I reached for the shorts on the rack and slid them on as he headed out the door. They were black leather, short, and matched the shirt with their gathers up the sides and thin red ties finished in a bow dangling down my legs. A pair of flat heeled, calf high, brown boots sat by my meagre clothing offering to complete the look. Having come out of hair and makeup, my hair was huge, tumbling down my back in wild waves. Liquid eyeliner gave me sex kitten eyes, and someone had spent at least half their lifetime painting temporary tattoos up my left forearm and left side of my torso.

Jake returned with Bec who was looking harassed. “Problem?”

“Well...” I paused, hesitant to be the cause of further harassment. “I’m not sure about the whole shirt with nothing underneath thing. I mean, it’s a really nice shirt,” I tacked on hurriedly, “but―”

“You don’t want your boobs on camera,” she finished for me.

“Not particularly,” I muttered, wondering if that made me a giant prude.

Maybe it did, but didn’t these things come back to bite you later in the ass? I planned on having kids eventually. They didn’t need to be blinded one day while performing an innocent Google search for photos of their mum in her heyday.

She put her pixie like hands on my shoulders and turned me towards her. “This is completely professional and you can trust us, okay? We’re going to have you positioned so that nothing here...” she pulled a hand away to gesture at my chest “...will actually be seen. You’ll be able to tell there’s nothing on underneath, but you won’t quite see what that is. You’ll retain your modesty while still enabling the photo to look sexy as hell. Is that okay?”

I nodded at her explanation and changed, safe in the knowledge that my future children would be unscathed from embarrassment.

Emerging from the dressing room, Jared did a double take and called me over.

“Uh, babe...” With my arms crossed over my chest, he gave my shirt a pointed glance. “Is this a low budget photo shoot?”

What was he talking about? Porn?

“What?”

His eyes flicked to the guys who were standing around without shirts as they waited for me. “They can’t afford to clothe you all?”

I chuckled as Peter tried to climb my boots and kept sliding off and explained to him what Bec had told me. “Trust me, Jared.” I even added my apprehension about my future children and not scarring them for life.

“Yeah?” The corners of his lips curled up slightly. “How many kids you planning on having?”

“Two,” I announced.

I’d thought about this a lot. One of each so I could take my daughter shopping while my son went off to do some sort of sporting activity with his dad. Terribly stereotypical, but this was my little fantasy, and I could have whatever I wanted. Though said fantasy may not bode so well if Jared and I ever headed down that path together. Jenna had three boys before she finally got her little Mactard.

I visibly shuddered and Jared frowned, picking Peter up and tucking him under his arm. “Only two?”

“Why? How many are you planning for?”

“Four.”

“Four?” I shouted. Maybe four was normal in his world, but in the real world that shit would not fly.

“Ah, any time you’re ready, Evie,” John, our photographer, cut in.

I sucked down my panic and turned to John with a brilliant smile. “Be right there.”

Jared eyed my outfit with irritation. “I’m gonna take Petie outside, okay? Leave you to it.”

Jared left through the side door, and John had me sit on a chair in front of a white backdrop while the boys watched on. “Just a couple of single shots to start with,” he advised.

He pushed my legs around a bit until my calves were spread out but my knees still close together. “Now lean over. I want one arm here,” he murmured and put my right elbow on my leg, “and the other here,” and put my left elbow on my left leg, “but cup your face with your left hand.”

He went back to his camera after he’d finished prodding me into a human mannequin and took a quick couple of shots. He muttered a bit with Bec, and she came over to fiddle my arm and hair around a bit.

“Now pout your lips just a little and look to the left of my shoulder. Put your left arm down.”

Click, click, click.

He walked over and showed me some of the images on the back screen of his camera, and I saw Bec was right. You couldn’t see anything but the mere suggestion gave the shot a sexy vibe.