Author: Nicola Marsh
Category: Romance
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When I saw another waiter bearing down on me with a sushi platter, I headed for the nearest exit. A locked French door leading out onto a semi-dark terrace. Seclusion. Perfect.
I flicked the lock and stepped out onto the slate tiled terrace that overlooked the pristine grass courts. Ten in total, with another ten clay and ten indoor surfaced behind the clubhouse. I couldn’t fault the facilities here. The rest? Remained to be seen.
I propped against the wall and stared at the first court, the one I’d toured earlier with Dirk Cresswell, the academy’s CEO. Dirk may be legendary in American tennis circles, with his record Grand Slam wins and golden boy charm, but from the fifteen minutes he’d taken to show me around today, he seemed like a self-absorbed, pompous prick. Who I had to play nice with if I didn’t want to be turfed out on my arse.
“Hey.”
I turned toward the girl’s voice as she stepped out of the shadows, not sure what annoyed me most. The intrusion or the way she sauntered toward me, all long legs and cocky smile.
She was just my type: tall, sexy brunette with enough hip sway to make a guy wonder what made her so confident, and bedroom eyes that hinted at sin.
Sadly, this devil had just landed in the City of Angels and sin was the last thing on my agenda.
“I’m not in the mood for company,” I said, expecting her to head back inside.
She didn’t falter as she strode toward me. “Too bad, because I needed some air and this terrace is big enough for the both of us.”
I could’ve left but there was something in the way she was staring at me that had me intrigued: like she wanted me but wouldn’t have a clue what to do if she got me.
“Mia.” She stuck out her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Kye.” I reluctantly shook her hand. “Wish I could say the same.”
“You don’t like girls?” She slid her hand out of mine, the insolent quirk of her lips making me want to do something I shouldn’t. Like kiss the smirk off her smart mouth.
“Love women.” I took a step back, staring at her feet and slowly sweeping upward in a deliberate perusal meant to make a point. I wanted to make her squirm. It backfired, as I noted red nail polish matching her towering shoes, slim ankles, long legs, tight black dress that ended mid-thigh and hugged her lean bod, and pert tits. The frigging dress had a front zipper that just begged to be undone. Beyond hot.
By the time I reached her face, she was blushing.
“So which am I?” She leaned forward, giving me a generous glimpse of cleavage. “Girl or woman?”
If I were in the mood to flirt, Mia would’ve been perfect. I knew her type in a heartbeat. Good girl wanting to dabble. Her country club folks were probably inside sipping martinis and kissing arse. And Mia wanted to flirt with the jocks for a night, without the pressure of having to put out. I’d love to see how far I could push her, call her bluff. Instead, I had to drive her away before I did something stupid.
I’d had these moods before. I was better off alone.
“Honestly?”
She nodded, so I gave it to her straight.
“You’re a college girl on spring break looking for a little down and dirty fun. Your folks probably drive a SUV, have dinner at the country club every night and play piss-poor tennis here weekly.”
I saw hurt flicker in her big, brown eyes. Good. The faster she left, the better. So I drove the boot in harder.
“You want to slum it for a while, have a little holiday fun. String some poor dumb-arse tennis rookie along before giving him a severe case of blue-balls.”
I deliberately turned my back on her. “Maybe the Aussie accent fooled you into thinking I’m that dumb-arse? But sorry, kid, you’re definitely a girl and I only fool around with women.”
I hated myself for treating someone I’d only just met like this. Mia whoever-she-was didn’t deserve it, but the blackness was crowding in and I needed to escape.
Spying steps leading onto the lower level, I headed in that direction.
“My mom died when I was little. My dad drives a Mustang, drinks scotch and doesn’t have to kiss anyone’s ass.”
I heard the hitch in her soft voice and it slayed me more than her admissions.
“Sure, I play piss-poor tennis, if that means I play badly. So I guess one out of four ain’t bad.” I heard the snap of her fingers. “Oh, and you were right about one thing. You’re definitely a dumbass.”
I should’ve kept walking. Headed straight for those steps without looking back. But the fact I’d misjudged her so badly stung real bad. Hadn’t I busted that dickhead’s nose in Sydney because he’d misjudged my mum? And me?
I’d put up with being misjudged my entire life: the poor kid from the Cross whose mum ran a strip joint. The kid who was probably a pimp. The kid who must do drugs because of where he lived.
I’d copped it all and hated every minute of it.
So why the hell had I just done the same to a woman I barely knew and who didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of my foul mood?
I stopped and turned back to face her. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She waved away my apology. “You can’t help being a dumbass. You were born that way.”
I smiled. For the first time in a long time. “You’re probably right.”
“So what’s with the mood?” She tilted her head to one side, studying me. “Because I know that wasn’t all about me.”
I shook my head. “You don’t want to know.”
“Maybe I do …” She hesitated, uncertainty clouding her eyes, before she straightened her shoulders. “You were right about one thing. I am in college. And I am on spring break.” She puffed out a long breath. “This is my first night back home and I had to attend this stupid party, when it’s the last thing I felt like doing, so I guess that makes us kindred spirits in a way.”
“You don’t know the first thing about me—”
“Chill.” She rolled her eyes. “All I meant was you look like you don’t want to be here. I definitely don’t want to be here.” She gestured at the tennis courts. “So why don’t we ditch this lame-ass party and take a walk out there?”
She’d articulated my plan, with one flaw. I still wanted to be alone.
“I don’t think so—”
“Shut up.” She slipped her hand into mine before I could blink. “Let’s go.”
She tugged on my hand as I stared at our linked hands in disbelief. I had two options. Yank my hand free, make a big deal of this by stomping away and run the risk of her running to her daddy, who was probably besties with Dirk Cresswell. Or suck it up and leave like I’d intended. With a hanger-on.
“If we don’t make a run for it now, the rest of the party will spill out here soon and then we’ll be trapped.”
I frowned, nodded. “Fine.”
Though it wasn’t, because as I allowed Mia to lead me down the steps, I wondered why I was still holding her hand. And enjoying it.
Read an excerpt from TOWING THE LINE
Chapter 1
DANI
“Where’s Loverboy?”
Not that I really cared where Mia’s boyfriend Kye was. I was enjoying having my BFF all to myself for a few hours before I boarded a plane to Australia to start my new life.
“He’ll be here soon,” Mia said, shoving the half-empty pizza box in my direction. “Said he had to see a man about a dog.”
I helped myself to another slice of pepperoni, even though I’d barely nibbled the first. “What the hell does that mean?”
Mia shrugged. “Who knows? I just nod and smile when he comes out with those indecipherable Aussie-isms.” Her eyes lit up. “Besides, who cares when he’s that cute?”
“Fair enough,” I said, eternally grateful we could actually talk like this considering I’d recently fucked up majorly by coming onto Kye with the intention of deliberately hurting Mia.
I’d been acting like the attention-seeking idiot I was and thankfully, Mia and Kye had forgiven me.
She knew about the baby, why I’d blown off college and why I’d spent the last three years drifting through a haze of partying to forget.
But she didn’t know all of it.
Nobody did.
And I intended on keeping it that way.
Sensing my sudden reticence, Mia pushed her plate away and placed a hand on my arm. “You okay?”
I nodded, swallowing the unexpected lump of emotion in my throat. I never got sentimental. Ever. I’d given up being that vulnerable a long time ago. Because feelings led to pain and I never wanted to feel as bad as I did when that bitch of a nurse told me I’d ‘lost’ my baby.
Like I’d lose anything so precious.
“Guess the reality of leaving all this to attend college in Melbourne for a while has finally hit home.” I gestured at the lavish lounge in my parents’ Beverly Hills mansion. “I mean, how will I live without the ten widescreens, daily fresh sushi and thousand-thread count toilet paper?”
Mia laughed. “I hear they have two-thousand thread count in Australia.” She winked. “How do you think Aussie guys have such hot asses?”
I chuckled, relieved the urge to bawl had receded.
“Talking about me?” Kye Sheldon strode into the room. Tall, blue-eyed, broad-shouldered, he was seriously hot and only had eyes for Mia as he made a beeline for his girlfriend and laid a hot, open-mouthed kiss on her right in front of me.
“Get a room,” I muttered, actually enjoying the sight of my best friend being cherished in the way she deserved.
And Mia did deserve it. She’d always been good and why she’d hung out with me for the last fifteen years was beyond me. She was loyal, sweet and trusting. My voice of reason, I’d always called her. Which is why I hadn’t told her about the baby.
Because when it came down to it, when I’d fallen pregnant at eighteen, I hadn’t wanted to hear all the logical reasons why I shouldn’t keep the baby. For the first time in my life, I would’ve had someone in my life to love me unconditionally. Someone to depend on me. Someone whose world revolved around me.
I’d never had that before. My parents pretended like their only child didn’t exist. Too busy living an A-list Hollywood lifestyle in their suck-up job as agents to the stars.
Friends? Non-existent, discounting Mia, who had lived next door until her dad quit professional tennis to open his teaching academy in Santa Monica, and they’d moved. Mia had been my rock for so long. And I’d almost lost her through my own stupidity.
It had been the wake-up call I’d needed.
Time to stop drifting through life filled with self-pity. Time to make a new start. Time to start living again.
“Sorry,” Kye drawled, not sounding sorry in the least as he sat next to Mia, his arm draped across her shoulders as she snuggled into him. “So Dani, ready to find a hot Aussie of your own Down Under?” He smirked. “Guys in Melbourne won’t know what hits them when they get a squiz at you.”
“Squiz?” I wrinkled my nose. “I’m hoping that’s a good thing.”
He chuckled. “Means a look at you.”
Mia tweaked his nose. “Isn’t he adorable?”
I rolled my eyes. “You two are pathetic.”
“It’s luuuurv,” Kye said, holding Mia tighter. “So how about it? Ready to take Melbourne by storm?”
“Academically, maybe.” Because that was my number one priority. To make the most of the six months exchange program I’d been offered at the prestigious Melbourne University and start an Arts major. Thanks to Kye’s dad pulling strings at the university, I had a chance at a new life. I wouldn’t screw it up this time. “I can’t thank your dad enough for this opportunity.”
“He’s the best.” The visible pride in Kye’s eyes made me well up again. Wish I had parents who cared enough about me to want to help my friends. “If you need anything while you’re in Oz, don’t hesitate to ring him.”
I nodded. “That’s what he told me when I Skyped him to say thanks for doing all this.”
“He’s a good guy.” Kye’s grin alerted me to another of his typical teasing barbs. “Speaking of guys—”
“Not interested.” I held up my hand. “Even if you’re personally acquainted with Jesse Spencer, Josh Helman and Ryan Kwanten, I don’t care.” I placed a hand over my heart. “I’m swearing off guys, even hot Aussie ones, for the next six months.”
Mia gazed adoringly at Kye. “Never say never, sweetie.” She pecked Kye on the cheek. “Trust me, there’s something about Aussie guys that is irresistible.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” I said, meaning it.
I’d spent the last three years hanging out with the wrong guys, sleeping with some of them, getting wasted, doing whatever it took to forget my fucked up life.
The next six months in Australia? My own personal detox program.
No partying, no drinking, no drugs and no men.
Mia, ever perceptive, must’ve picked up on something in my expression, because she turned to Kye and said, “I’d love an orange soda.”
“Coming right up.” He stood and glanced at me. “Anything for you, Dani?”
I shook my head. “No thanks, I’m fine.”
Biggest lie ever.
“No worries, back in a sec.” He strolled toward the monstrous kitchen that included a breakfast nook complete with the latest video game consoles my dad loved. Kye would be a while. Last time he’d been here and volunteered to get us sodas, we’d found him playing some warrior shoot-out game an hour later.
The moment he left the room, Mia fixed me with a narrow-eyed stare. “You’re in a funk and it’s more than just living overseas for six months.”
I sighed, wishing I could fob her off, but so tired of living a lie let alone telling another. “I’m terrified that even after doing all this, nothing will change and I’ll still be the same screwed-up little girl screaming for attention.”
Voicing my greatest fear didn’t make me feel better. It made me feel sick to my stomach.
Because it was true. What if after all this I couldn’t change? I couldn’t forget? I couldn’t learn to live with the mistakes of my past?
“Oh honey.” Mia leaped off the sofa to come sit beside me on the floor. “You’re the bravest person I know.”
She took both my hands and wouldn’t let go when I tried to extricate them. “It takes real guts to do what you’re doing. Moving halfway across the world, making a start on a college degree, changing your lifestyle.”
She squeezed my hands. “You’ve been through hell and you’ve made it through. This is your chance. And I have no doubt whatsoever you’ll make the most of every exciting new minute.”
“Will you be resurrecting your old pom-poms to go with that cheerleading routine?”
She laughed at my droll response. “You’re going to be fine. Better than fine.” She released my hands to pull me into a hug. “You’re going to kick some serious Aussie ass.”
Wish I had half her confidence because the way I was feeling now? Like I was standing on a precipice, about to go over the edge, with no safety net in sight.
Chapter 2
ASHTON
I knew Mum was having a bad day the moment I neared her room and heard her grunts of frustration.
She’d always loved crossword puzzles but the more her brain deteriorated, the harder it became for her to do the simplest tasks, let alone find a three letter word for an Australian native bird.
I’d almost reached the end of the long corridor when a nurse laid a hand on my shoulder.
“Got a minute, Ashton?”
I stopped, turned and held my breath. Whenever one of the nurses wanted to talk before I visited Mum, it wasn’t good.
“Hey Pam. How are you?”
“Good, thanks.” The fifty-something redhead had the kindest eyes I’d ever seen. Pale blue eyes that were currently filled with concern. “But I wanted to have a quick word with you today.”
A pointless, dumb-arse question, considering Mum hadn’t been okay in a long time. Not since I’d checked her into this special accommodation home two years earlier because it had become untenable to care for her at home.
The official diagnosis? Early onset dementia courtesy of a long-term alcohol abuse problem.
My diagnosis? She’d partied too hard, done too many drugs and drunk her life into oblivion to obscure whatever demons dogged her as a washed-up B-grade actress.
I resented her lifestyle. I resented every shitty thing that resulted in her being here at the age of sixty-three.
“Judy had a rough night.” Pam hesitated, before fixing me with a pitying stare. “She may not know you today.”
Fuck.
We’d reached this stage already?
I’d been warned there’d be more days like this. That as the dementia progressed, Mum’s memory would deteriorate to the point she’d consider me a stranger.
I hadn’t expected it to happen so soon and no way in hell I was prepared to handle it.
“Okay, thanks,” I said, hoping Pam didn’t hear the hitch in my voice.
Not for the first time since Mum had been diagnosed, I wanted to crumple in a heap on the floor and cry like a baby. But considering I’d been the only man in this family for a long time, losing my shit wasn’t an option.
I had to stand tall and do what had to be done. And that included ensuring I made enough money to pay for Mum’s bills. Something that was becoming increasingly difficult to do as my commissions dried up.
I needed to keep painting. I needed to keep tutoring at the university. And I needed to stop feeling like I was an automaton, oblivious to everything but getting through each day.
It was affecting my art, this emptiness inside me. But I needed to quash emotions and stay cold inside because if I started to feel again, I’d break down for sure.
Despite her lifestyle and her failings, Mum had always done right by me. I had to do the same for her.
“You’re a good son.” Pam squeezed my arm. “Come find me later if you have any questions or just want to talk, okay?”