Just for Fun (9 page)

Her defenses came up in a flash. “You’re being so
slow.
Finish your toast and get dressed, please. We need to go.”

“Don’t snap your fingers at me,” he said quietly. “And don’t
talk to me like I’m a kid. I know you aren’t too happy with me just now, but I
hate that. Both things. Please don’t do them again.”

He was looking out a different window an hour later, but still
wishing he were at the beach. Sitting in his future mother-in-law’s painfully
correct lounge, filled with the latest modern decorating trends, from the inevitable
black leather couches to the completely transparent Plexiglas coffee table.

“I need at least eighteen more spots for clients,” Claudia
was saying. “I can’t see any way to cut this down. Nic, do you really have to
invite so many of your teammates?”

“Yes,” he said briefly.

“I understand you want your friends there,” Elizabeth,
Claudia’s mother, said in a tone that was obviously meant to be soothing, but
that set Nic’s teeth on edge. As if he were a recalcitrant child who needed
coaxing. “Maybe we could free up some spots if everyone didn’t bring a
partner.”

“You want me to tell them they can’t bring their
partners?”

“Of course not,” Claudia put in hastily. “Not if they’re
married, or have a real girlfriend. But does every twenty-two-year-old have to
bring a date? I can understand inviting the senior players, anyway. But between
the Blues, and the Chiefs, and the All Blacks . . . “

“They can bring whoever they want,” Nic said. “I’m not going
to quiz them on their bloody relationship status. I’ve played with some of those
blokes for four years now. They’re mates. Look. I gave you two hundred fifty
spots. I only have a hundred fifty. Use your two-fifty however you want, but my
teammates are invited.
With
any date they may want to bring. My list is
sorted.”

He looked out the window again. Long Bay, he thought with
another inward sigh. He wouldn’t go so far this afternoon, of course. Wouldn’t
have time. He’d take an hour to walk the Narrow Neck shoreline, then sit with
his exercise book, quietly visualize everything he planned to do tonight. He’d
need the time anyway to put his mind right, after a couple hours of this. The
beach would have been so much better. Especially if there’d been a bit of fun
attached.

The weekend chores could wait until tomorrow, Emma had
decided. This would be a special night for Zack anyway, his first Blues game,
so why not make the whole day fun? She hadn’t had any trouble talking Zack into
a trip to the beach, though she hadn’t been able to round up any adult
companionship.

“I’ve had enough kids for one week,” Lucy had declared when
Emma had invited her along during their ferry ride home from their early-morning
gym class. “No offense, Em. You know I love my nephew. But I’m looking forward
to some serious adult entertainment this afternoon.”

“Told you the thigh soreness would get better,” Emma said
with a smile.

“Plus, Tom’s loving the new me,” Lucy said with
satisfaction. “Nothing like a bit of honest appreciation to get the motor
running.”

“Not to mention the body confidence,” Emma pointed out. “That’s
probably not hurting either.”

“True. I’m definitely getting more comfortable with the
lights on. And wearing what he likes, too.” Lucy stretched out a leg in its
spandex capris, pointed her toe. “Look, calf muscles.”

“But
you
can’t have any body confidence issues,” she
continued. “No excuse there. So what’s the story with
your
love life?”

Emma turned to look at the wake disappearing behind them as
the ferry sliced through the harbour toward Devonport. “My what? That fell
overboard a ways back, I’m afraid.”

“Why? You used to date a fair amount, when you lived with me.”

“I still do, some, but it isn’t much. Having to get someone
to mind Zack is part of it. But it seems like it’s getting tougher anyway. How
excited do you think most guys in their twenties are to go out with somebody
who has a six-year-old? A lot of them have barely moved out of their own
parents’ houses. They’re living in a flat with three other guys. Zack and I are
way outside their comfort zone.”

“What about older guys, then?”

“Yeah, they might be living in Grown-Up World. Though I
mostly know engineers these days. Bad enough if he’s going to be ten years
older than me. I don’t need him to be boring too.  I don’t need somebody else
who eats the same breakfast every morning, and thinks I’m flaky because my
kitchen table isn’t cleaned off.”

“Lots of people eat the same breakfast every morning,” Lucy
objected. “I pretty much do.”

“I like a little spontaneity. Sue me. David always had the
same exact three spoonfuls of plain yoghurt on his muesli. And then he’d take
this little knife, and slice his banana in half. Half a banana, every day. I
used to want to scream at him, just eat the whole frigging banana! Or, I don’t
know, get all wild and crazy and go for strawberries! I wanted to grab that
banana and throw it right out the kitchen window.”

“You had a
lot
of hostility there,” Lucy commented.
“Good thing he dumped you.”

Emma laughed. “They sent me a birth announcement, can you
believe it? They waited to have a baby until she finished her Ph.D. Of
course
they did. And who knows what they did to get it timed so perfectly. Born at
the start of the summer holidays.”

“I shudder to think,” Lucy admitted. They grinned at each
other in perfect accord as they stood to exit the ferry, docking now. “Point
taken. No engineers. But maybe one of Tom’s mates?”

“Like Mr. Sucktoes?” Emma asked, causing heads to turn in
the boarding queue, and both sisters to burst out laughing.

“OK, the foot fetish was a surprise,” Lucy conceded when
they were free of the crowd and walking along the wooden wharf together. “What
are the odds of that happening again, though? Isolated disaster. I’ll make Tom
vet them better for kinkiness next time.”

“Well,
bad
kinkiness.”

“Is there a good kind?” Lucy asked, staring at her sister.

Emma shrugged and smiled, waited till Lucy popped the lock
on the car, then swung in with her gym bag.

“Don’t answer that,” Lucy decided. “TMI.”

So that was no Lucy on the beach trip. Graham’s mum Stephanie
was a washout, too. “I think that cold of Heather’s has turned into an ear
infection,” she’d sighed on the phone. “Looks like another fab Saturday in the
doctor’s office.”

“Let me take Graham,” Emma urged. “Then at least you’ll only
have the one.”

“Thanks,” Stephanie said. “I owe you.”

“Nah. It all evens out.”

Now she sat at a picnic table with her grid-lined
sketchbook, working on a design and casting an occasional eye at the distant
play structure where Zack and Graham were happily scrambling, climbing, and
taking turns zipping down the long flying fox with the other kids. She found
her attention straying as well to the group of young men playing an
enthusiastic game of touch rugby in an open space nearby. It would be exciting
to see Nic play at Eden Park tonight, she had to admit. Zack wasn’t the only
one looking forward to that performance.

Some of the guys here didn’t look too bad with their shirts
off, she decided. But none could hold a candle to Nic, the way he’d been in
Fiji. Brown and hard-muscled, impressive even then. He’d added a few more kilos
of power in the years since, she’d noticed. The shoulders and thighs might be a
bit bulkier now. His arms, too. Her gaze became abstracted as her mind drifted
to those powerful forearms, the bit of bicep showing beneath the hem of his
T-shirt sleeves, all she’d really seen of him so far. She’d bet the rest of him
still looked as good as ever, though.

She glanced across at the water, the long stretch of beach
that gave Long Bay its name. Pity she hadn’t been able to arrange some
additional adult supervision. She’d have liked to have a real swim herself. Or
something else, she thought as she felt the tug of desire. To be with Nic
again, the way it had been.

They’d taken one of the resort’s kayaks out one morning, had
paddled to an isolated beach on the other side of the island, pulled the boat
up high on the fine white sand. Had gone for a swim in the clear turquoise sea,
diving down to look at shells, picking up live sand dollars where they lay
humped just under the sandy bottom, then setting them gently down again. Nic
made her laugh by kicking up into a handstand, then walking on his hands,
strong brown legs waving in the air.   

“Show-off,” she chided as he shot back up to the surface in
a spray of salt water.

“Race you,” he said with a grin. “To the other side of the
bay.”

“You have to give me a head start,” she objected. “You’re
too fast.”

“OK. I’ll count to 20. Ready . . . steady . . . GO!”

She’d set off, using her fastest crawl, putting all she had
into it, knowing he’d beat her anyway, her heart thudding at the thought of him
behind her, catching up.

She’d got more than halfway across when she felt the hand on
her leg, pulling her to him. She turned, treading water. “No fair,” she
protested, still breathing hard with effort. “We aren’t done.”

“I was winning anyway,” he pointed out. “Decided I didn’t
want to wear you out this way.”

“Maybe I had a burst of speed left in me. Did you think of
that?”

“Nah.” He was pulling her with him now, sidestroking toward
shore. “Think you’d better accept it. You lose. And you know there’s a price
for that.”

“Oh, yeah?” she got out through the rush of excitement as he
reached to hold her, the water shallow enough for him to stand here. “I didn’t
agree to any rules like that.”

“I just changed them,” he told her, that gleam in his eyes
again. She tried to stand herself, realized the water was still too deep for
her. So she held onto his broad shoulders instead as his mouth came down over
hers in a long, heated kiss.

“What are they, then?” she asked, playing along, when he
pulled his mouth from hers again, moved his lips over her cheek, his teeth
closing on her earlobe. She had her legs wrapped around him now, her hands
stroking over his shoulders and back, loving the feel of the shifting muscle
under her palms. She bit his neck with an open mouth, felt a pulse jump there
as she licked the salt from him. 

“Hmm? What are what?” he asked, distracted, his hands
cradling her bottom, rubbing her against him through the layers of wet fabric,
each movement of his body bringing with it another flicker of sensation where he
touched her. 

“The rules. For when I lose.” She licked again, used her own
teeth.

“You take your togs off,” he decided. “And then give me the
prize. Which is whatever I want.”

“Oh,” she sighed. “Those are some pretty harsh rules. But I
guess if I have to . . .”

“Oh, you have to,” he assured her. “I’m dead serious about
the rules. Take off your top.”

“I’ll go under and drown,” she objected.

“I’ve got you. Take it off.”

She kept her legs around him, reached behind her to unhook
the back, then shrugged out of the wet garment. Reached around his neck again,
one hand clutching the wet bikini top, and looked up into his eyes. “Is this
right?”

“Oh, yeh. That’s right.” He kissed her again, no laziness
now. Then shifted his mouth to her throat, pulling her up higher, the salty water
helping to support her. He bent his head further, took a breast, white against
the tanned skin around it, into his mouth.

“Nic,” she groaned as his mouth moved over her, as she felt
herself melting. “If somebody came by, they’d see me.”

“Nobody here. And that’s only step one. Take the bottoms
off.” He held her where she was, playing with her, his strong arms supporting
her while she wriggled out of the scant piece of fabric.

“Tread water for a sec,” he told her. He wrenched his own
togs off with difficulty underwater, kicked them free, then grabbed for them
and slung them over one shoulder. Reached for her again and pulled her into
him, over him.

“This is the price of losing,” he told her. “And this is
what I get for winning. Always going to get it, too. I’m always going to get
you.”

Her mouth was on him again. At his throat, biting his
shoulder, as she hung on. They were breathing hard, lost in each other, when
the wave broke over them, shocking them, pulling them apart. She tumbled for a
moment, then was at the surface again, lungs working, trying to cough up the water
she hadn’t been able to avoid taking in at the sudden drenching.

Nic grabbed for her, began pulling her toward shore. “Are
you OK?”

She coughed a bit more, gasped for air. “Yeah,” she got out
at last. He set her on her feet and she stood gratefully, bent to cough some
more.

“Geez. Sorry.” He looked so chagrined, she had to laugh.
Coughed a final time, felt her breath returning.

“That’ll teach you to play games in the water,” she got out.

“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” he told her, grinning
back in relief. “I forgot about that wee small thing called the tide.”

“Oh, no! My costume! I’ve lost it. Did you?”

He held up his togs to show her. “Pity. Reckon you’ll just
have to make a spectacular entrance, back at the resort. Good thing you
are
spectacular.”

“Where
is
it? I’d better be able to find it. Shoot!”

He looked around, spotted a flash of hot pink in the distance.
“Hang on. I’ll get it.” He bunched his togs in one hand, took off after the
bits of pink. She saw him rise in the water again, wave the rescued costume
over his head, and swim back towards her again.

“Success,” he said as he arrived. “Want to try again? Or
would that be pushing our luck?”

She laughed. “Pushing our luck. Definitely. I’m probably
getting an interesting sunburn anyway. I didn’t put sunscreen everywhere.
Missed a few spots.”