Outback Sisters (36 page)

‘What are you looking at?' he asked, his lips turning up at the edges.

She gave him her best innocent expression. ‘Not my fault if you have the cutest butt I've ever had the pleasure of looking at.'

He snorted. ‘Yours isn't so bad either.'

With a contented sigh, she rolled over, surprisingly unselfconscious at the thought of having to dress in front of him, until she realised her old clothes were in the bathroom and her clean ones in her backpack in the kitchen. ‘Um … do you mind going and getting my bag from the kitchen?' she asked. Dressing in front of the man who'd now seen every intimate part of her body was one thing, but walking through the house naked was another. She wasn't
that
confident in her skin.

Logan folded his perfectly masculine arms over his perfectly masculine chest and slowly shook his head. ‘Actually I do.'

She frowned. ‘You
do
mind? You
won't
go and get my clothes?'

‘Nope. I've decided I like seeing you in my bed too much.' He smiled and a hot flush rushed through her, both from his words and his irresistible grin. How could she argue with that?

‘Then what about dinner?'

‘I'm going to bring it to you in bed. You stay right there and relax.' With that he turned and swaggered out of the room like a man who'd just gotten laid and planned on a re-enactment very, very soon.

No arguments here.

Frankie relaxed into the pillows, quite happy to stay here all weekend if that was what he so desired. The bed smelt like him—a manly aroma that turned her on something chronic. She brought the doona up to her nose and inhaled deeply at the exact moment he returned to the bedroom.

‘That was quick,' she said, sitting up and dropping the doona like it was on fire.

He held up her mobile, which she must have left in his kitchen when they'd retreated to the bathroom, and her backpack. ‘Since I'm not sure I'm going to let you out of my bed all weekend, thought you might need these.'

She laughed as he dumped them on the bed. ‘Thanks.'

He leaned over and kissed her on the lips. And,
man
, each time was better than the last. ‘Back soon.'

Not wanting to be caught sniffing his blankets again, Frankie grabbed her phone—she could check Facebook or something while she waited for the return of her new sex slave. Or was she the slave, because she was forbidden to leave the bed? Not that he'd tied her to the bedposts or anything—though that thought turned her on more than she wanted to admit. Either way, she had no plans for escape.

She swiped her finger across the screen to wake the phone and saw she had a missed call from Simone. Her insides twisted but this time it felt different from the way they did whenever Logan touched or even looked at her. This time it was the undeniable, horrid feeling of guilt. Her finger hovered over the return call option but she couldn't bring herself to press it. Simone was probably ringing to sound off about another fight with Harriet, but what if it was something else? What if something had gone wrong at the café this arvo?

Her head ached—a war going on inside it about whether or not to call back. And then she had a brilliant idea. She could text Stacey to check on the café. After shooting off the quick message, she put her phone on Logan's bedside table and tried to distract her thoughts by taking a proper look around the room. She'd taken little in when they'd stumbled into it, still wet from the shower. It was neat and tidy but manly. The bed itself was solid wood and the doona cover blue stripes. There was a desk in one corner with a funky black lamp and a laptop set up on it and a whole row of bookshelves, spilling over with books. Other items in the room included a tennis racket, a stereo, some prints of old Holdens hanging on the walls—it seemed Logan inherited the passion from his dad—and a couple of photo frames on an old chest of drawers.

Her curiosity piqued, she snuck out of bed, wrapped herself in the stripy doona and tiptoed across the room for a stickybeak. There were pictures of a couple she guessed were his parents, looking very happy with each other. She sighed with the knowledge of the tragedy that had befallen them and moved on to look at the next photo. Two lanky teenage boys—one blond haired, one brown—with a cute little toddler standing between them. It had to be Olivia and she was blonde like Logan. The graduation class photo next to it made her frown.

‘Geraldton Senior?' she said out loud. But that's where she and Simone had gone. She didn't remember him—although it was a big school and he would have been a few years ahead of her—but she'd sworn he'd mentioned going to boarding school in Perth like Angus and Olivia had.

‘Got bored waiting for me, did you?'

Logan startled her as he came back into the room and she almost dropped the doona. She tightened her grip and turned her head to him, noticing he was holding a glass of wine. ‘Sorry, couldn't resist a look.' She pointed at the graduation photo. ‘Bet you had all the girls chasing after you at school.'

He shrugged. ‘Maybe a few.'

She smiled and said nonchalantly, ‘I thought you went to boarding school in Perth?'

‘Ah …' He looked sheepish. ‘I did … until I was expelled.'

‘What?' She almost dropped the doona again.

He stepped closer and offered her the wine. ‘Thought you might like this while you wait. Won't be much longer.'

‘Oh no, you don't,' she said, taking the wine. ‘I need this story. Now.'

‘The pasta might overcook.'

‘Then you'd better be quick.' She leaned back against the chest of drawers and took a sip of white wine.

He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Okay. Promise you won't laugh?'

She cocked her head to the side. ‘I make no guarantees, but if you don't tell me, I'll get dressed.'

‘You're an evil woman, Frankie Madden.' But she'd won. ‘Okay, I had this business going in the boarding house. It was quite profitable actually. Started in year ten and by halfway through year eleven, I'd made a couple of grand.'

‘What were you doing?' she asked, all sorts of possibilities running through her head.

‘Selling vodka oranges to the other boarders.'

‘
Vodka oranges
?'

‘Yep—I conned Sarah into buying the vodka and gave her a percentage of the profits. It was our secret; Angus would never have helped me.'

‘How did you inject them?'

‘With syringes I borrowed from Dad on the farm.'

She raised her eyebrows. ‘Borrowed.'

‘Okay, stole, but that's just semantics. He didn't miss them.'

She smiled. ‘And no-one ever told on you?'

He pointed a finger at her. ‘I told you not to laugh. Sometimes the boarding masters asked me why I was always getting fruit from the kitchen but I think they just assumed I liked oranges. I got away with it for over a year because everyone knew that if they said anything, the supply would stop, but eventually, some nerd dobbed me in. That's when I got expelled.'

She couldn't help it. She cracked up at the image of Logan hiding away in his dorm room injecting vodka into fruit.

‘You promised.' He shook his head but he was chuckling as he left the room.

Frankie was still smiling at the story when he returned a few minutes later with a tray that carried the bottle of wine, another glass, and two steaming bowls of the most delicious smelling duck ragu. Maybe she was hungry after all.

He put the tray on the bed, which she'd climbed back into. ‘Madam, your dinner is served.' He handed her a bowl and a fork and then went to get in with her.

‘You better not be thinking of coming back in here with clothes on. If I have to eat in the nude, I don't see why it should be any different for the chef.' She felt so confident around him, far more so than she ever had around any other guy.

‘Fair point,' he said. And then he undid his buckle and pushed his jeans down his legs before stepping out of them. Her eyes were drawn to one thing and it wasn't his handsome face.

He snuck into bed beside her, and she felt the heat from his thigh only centimetres from hers. She downed the last few sips of her wine. How she was going to manage to eat with all that beautiful nakedness so close, she had no clue, but at least they wouldn't have to waste time taking off their clothes when they were done.

Logan topped up her wine and poured a glass for himself. They began to eat.

‘Oh, this is amazing.' She was thinking that if they ever got married he could be the household's chief cook because although she loved it, she put all her enthusiasm into the café and couldn't usually be bothered to cook when she got home. Of course, she kept this little fantasy to herself. Even though it felt like she'd known him forever, it was still early days and she didn't want to jinx it. Or scare him off.

‘I can't imagine going to boarding school. What was it like—were they really strict on you or was it like one long sleepover with your mates?'

Logan laughed and, from the twinkle in his eyes, she could tell he was recalling more mischief. ‘Some of the boarding masters were stricter than others but we got to know who'd let us get away with stuff and who wouldn't. One night I organised a midnight cricket match down the corridors between the rooms and we'd played for a good half an hour before anyone discovered us.'

‘You were a ratbag,' she said, thoroughly enjoying hearing about his youth. He was entertaining her with more boarding school stories when her phone buzzed with a text message.

‘That'll be Stacey, one my of my employees,' she told him as she picked it up. She smiled with relief at Stacey's message that everything was A-OK.

‘Good news?'

‘Oh, kind of.' She sighed as she put her phone back down. ‘I had a missed call from Simone and I wondered if something had gone wrong at the café, but I really didn't want to call her back. I feel sick just thinking about lying to her like I am.'

‘Aw, come here.' Logan put down his empty bowl and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her against him. ‘I know it's going to be hard, but we're going to have to tell her sooner or later. Sooner might be better because then she won't feel like we've kept her in the dark a long time.'

‘Yes, you're right.' But her heart beat too fast at the prospect.

‘Do you want me to come with you when you tell her?' he asked.

While she appreciated his offer, she shook her head. ‘I think this is something I need to do by myself. And I'm going to do it as soon as I get home. I don't want my guilt and deception to overshadow our time together anymore. She might be angry at first but we've never held a grudge for more than a few hours.'

‘Good plan,' Logan said, removing her empty bowl and placing it on the tray on the floor with his. ‘Now, are you ready for dessert or would you like to wait a while?'

Frankie felt his large warm hand on her bare thigh and quivered right down to her core. ‘If you're referring to your tiramisu, then I think I'd like to work up my appetite again first.'

He grinned as she hooked one leg over the top of him and leaned in for a kiss.

Cruising down the Brand Highway, Dire Straits on the radio, Angus tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, excited about seeing Olivia. Now that she'd started uni in Perth, her trips home were less frequent than when she'd been at boarding school, and he missed her. Logan saw her more often because of all the travelling he did for work, but if it weren't for Liv, Angus would have little desire to visit the big smoke.

As he passed the turn-off to Bunyip Bay, he made a conscious effort to think about the weekend ahead, rather than about Simone. A crazy part of him contemplated turning into the little town and paying her a visit but he didn't know exactly where she lived and the café would be closed by now. Besides, if he went into the café and Simone wasn't there, what excuse would he give to Frankie about seeing her? And what exactly was he planning on saying to Simone anyway?

Hey good-looking, I can't get that hot night we had together out of my head and was wondering if you wanted a repeat sometime soon?

The fact that Simone had registered for Rural Matchmakers proved she was looking for something more than he was, so the best thing to do would be to exorcise her from his head. Problem was, that was proving harder to do than he thought.

He was contemplating ways to achieve this when he saw a hitchhiker up ahead, her thumb held out to the road. She slowed her pace, turning his way as he approached and the first thing he noticed was her blue hair. He grimaced, unable to understand why anyone would want to draw such attention to themselves.

The second thing he noticed was her age—mid-teens—and then he slammed his foot on the brake and pulled over because he recognised that she wasn't just any old teenager, but Harriet, Simone's daughter. What the hell was she doing hitchhiking? Hadn't her mother ever told her how dangerous it was?

He cursed, thumped the heel of his hand against the steering wheel and then pressed the button to open the passenger window.

Harriet smiled—she obviously hadn't recognised him yet—as she walked the short distance to the vehicle. ‘Hey there,' she said, leaning into the window like some kind of streetwalker. Thank God he'd been the one to stop for her.

‘Hi Harriet,' he said and her eyes widened in shock as recognition dawned. It looked like she'd been crying.

‘You're Logan's brother.'

Nice, after the effort he'd made to chat with her when she'd visited the farm, she could have at least remembered his name. ‘I have a name. It's Angus.'

She shrugged. ‘You going to Perth?'

He nodded. ‘Sure am. What about you?'

She hitched her hot pink backpack higher up onto her shoulder. ‘Yep. Wanna give me a lift?'