Mr Right Now Read online

  Seven

  Griff frowned as he saw Olivia turn on her heel and head in the opposite direction. They’d locked eyes for only the briefest of moments, but it had been enough to see her wide-eyed shock moments before she scurried away. He suppressed an irritated sigh. This whole thing was getting ridiculous. Surely she didn’t think she’d be able to avoid him forever? Then again, considering she lived in Sydney and this was only a visit, maybe she could. So what? Why did it matter so damn much? He should just let it go, but for some reason the fact she was avoiding him annoyed the absolute crap out of him.

  He dismissed his irritable thoughts as he shook his best friend’s hand, noting the strain around Ollie’s eyes. ‘Good to see you home.’

  ‘Thanks, mate,’ Ollie said. ‘Feels like I’ve been gone a year.’

  ‘I bet. How was your old man when you left?’

  ‘Not happy about being laid up in a hospital. From what all the doctors are sayin’, though, he’s lucky to have made it. Be a while before he’s feelin’ lucky, I reckon. He’s pretty banged up.’

  ‘You know if you need to stay down in the city, we’ll take care of the harvest. You don’t have to be here.’

  ‘Yeah, I know, but I need to handle it. Dad’s stressing about it and that’s not helping matters. Mum’s exhausted, trying to keep up a brave face. There’s nothing I can do down there for him—the best thing I can do is be here and harvest this damn crop.’

  Griff slapped his friend on the shoulder as he got up to buy him a beer. ‘And you will. I’ll lend a hand. We’ve already had a bit of an ask around and got a few lads lined up if we need them, so between all of us we’ve got you covered.’

  ‘Thanks, mate,’ Ollie said, and Griff heard his voice crack a little before he cleared his throat and looked down.

  ‘I’ll be right back,’ he said, heading to the bar. He knew it was hard for Ollie to accept help—hell, he’d feel exactly the same—but everyone knew out here that there were times when you had no control over events, and when everything went arse up it was great to know your neighbours and friends had your back. Everyone just always hoped to God it never happened to them.

  His thoughts were sidetracked as he approached the bar and saw Olivia standing there, waiting to be served. There were times in the past when he’d seen her and she’d looked like a stranger, with her expensive clothing and perfectly styled hair, but it usually only took a few minutes before he managed to catch sight of the Liv he’d grown up with. She was still in there.

  For a brief moment he allowed his gaze to roam over her. He knew that once she saw him her guard would instantly be up again.

  He knew why.

  The night of his sister’s wedding.

  Tonight she wore jeans and an off-the-shoulder top. His eyes fixed on her smooth creamy skin and a spark of something that felt a lot like desire shot through him. Dude! It’s a shoulder. Get a grip. Maybe he was lonelier than he thought.

  He sent a brief glance down the bar to where the shapely blonde barmaid, Ashley, was leaning seductively over the counter as she openly flirted with a couple of farmhands. He disregarded the possibility as quickly as it entered his head. He and Ashley had had fun together a few months back, but she wasn’t into exclusive and, to be honest, he hadn’t wanted anything serious himself at the time. She’d been exactly what he’d needed back then, but something had changed for him recently and he found he didn’t want to put his energy into a relationship—if you could call it that—which wasn’t going anywhere. Besides, even if he had been thinking about picking things up where they’d left off, it looked like tonight he was out of luck.

  When he turned back to the naked skin of Ms Dawson’s left shoulder, he met instead a set of coolly appraising eyes and found himself clearing his throat awkwardly. ‘Liv,’ he said, feeling stupid for acting like he was guilty of something.

  ‘Griff,’ she said, somehow managing to make it sound like a kind of reprimand.

  ‘How are you?’

  ‘Fine, thanks. You?’

  ‘Great. I’m just … great.’ He let the sentence fade as they both looked straight ahead at the shelves of colourful alcohol. This was riveting conversation.

  ‘Do you think she even realises we’re here?’ Liv said with annoyance as she glared down the bar at Ashley.

  ‘You’re not in the city, Liv. People actually like to stop and chat around here.’

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ she said, lifting an eyebrow at him. ‘I’m sure they’re having a chat about nuclear fusion or something equally as important.’

  ‘Maybe they are,’ he said with a grin.

  ‘Yeah, right,’ she scoffed.

  ‘When was the last time you discussed nuclear fusion?’ he asked.

  ‘In uni,’ she shot back with a shrug.

  Smartarse. ‘Maybe they’d rather not waste their time talking about something so boring,’ he said.

  Liv sent him an irritated glance. ‘Maybe she should just do her job and serve drinks.’

  Griff found himself annoyed by the superiority of her tone. He didn’t feel any particular need to defend Ashley, but somehow he felt as though Olivia wasn’t only aiming her scorn at the barmaid but at everyone here. At him. ‘Maybe you should remember where you came from, Princess, and stop with the high and mighty attitude.’

  He should have taken pleasure in the way her mouth dropped open in surprise, but he didn’t. Instead he turned and walked down the bar, interrupting Ashley’s flirt fest and ordering a round of beers. When he glanced back a few minutes later, Liv was nowhere to be seen.

  How dare he take that tone with her? Who the hell did he think he was? As Olivia stormed along the quiet main street she could feel the twin spots of red on her cheeks caused by his rebuke. She had not been acting high and mighty—she was simply pointing out that when someone was employed to do a job, they should be doing it, not chatting up the clientele while paying customers were waiting!

  She ignored the little scoff inside her head; anger still pulsing through her veins. She looked both ways before crossing the wide, grey expanse of endless highway that ran through the centre of town and headed for a bench beneath the lush green foliage of the trees in the park.

  Okay, maybe she had been a little out of line. Maybe, she stressed in defence. And she shouldn’t have implied that just because Ashley was a bartender she wouldn’t be capable of having an intelligent conversation … Olivia dropped her head in frustration; she hated acting like a condescending jerk—she hated that in other people. She didn’t even really know the girl. She’d gone to school with two of Ashley’s older cousins, but she probably shouldn’t hold them against her. You’re just jealous. The thought made Olivia instantly straighten as though she’d been poked by a cattle prod. Jealous? No way. She tried to dismiss the ludicrous thought, but memories of the last time she’d been home challenged her pointedly.

  Okay, so she may have been a little annoyed when Griff had invited Ashley to events that had traditionally been only for family and close friends, like Christmas Eve. And she may have been a little sickened watching the woman hang all over him and openly flaunt the fact they were having hot, wild sex … Admittedly, possibly only Olivia thought they were having hot, wild sex, but still.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ Olivia muttered, standing up, agitated. So she was jealous. But it was stupid. She didn’t even know why she was jealous. She certainly had no claim on Griffin Callahan.

  How come he gets better looking each time you see him?

  Where did that thought come from? Great. Maybe this was the start of a mental breakdown or something.

  It was when she’d come home for Christmas last year that everything comfortable in her life had begun to feel claustrophobic. When she was here, she wasn’t the successful overachiever she was in the city, she was just little Olivia Dawson. It frustrated her that hardly anyone actually grasped how well she’d done in her career—even her parents didn’t fully understand her title or what it involved. She should be hap
py that they were proud of whatever it was she did but, seriously, what was the point? Why had she been pushing herself all these years to climb the ladder of success when, really, no one even particularly cared what she actually did? It wasn’t like she did something people could relate to; she wasn’t a doctor who saved lives, or a farmer who grew food to put on people’s tables. She was a corporate lawyer, who dealt with mergers and acquisitions and specialised in corporate accountability.

  Olivia had looked at her best friend and realised how little of life she’d actually lived. She hadn’t travelled; she’d spent all her free time studying or working. Her job had become her life. Promotions were like her drug fix—her accomplishments promised fulfilment, but each time, after only a brief moment of elation, the unrest would start again and she’d crave more. So she’d set her sights on the next promotion and the next after that, searching for some kind of satisfaction that never came.

  Then she was back home, watching her best friend get married in a fairytale wedding, to her very own Prince Charming. And what did she have? An empty apartment and a nice car. Then there’d been Griffin. She sighed irritably. He’d walked up his parents’ verandah steps, his hair wet from a shower, wearing a pair of jeans that moulded to his strong thighs like a glove, and a blue shirt, sleeves rolled up, that revealed a pair of arms tanned by the sun. When he’d looked over, she’d felt some long-forgotten awareness spark back to life. His smile was warm and familiar, and she’d gone a little gooey inside when she’d seen the way his lips tilted slightly off-centre as he grinned. She’d swallowed back a flutter of nervous anticipation as he’d walked towards her … then straight past her to Cash Sullivan.

  She felt a wave of humiliation wash through her now as she remembered. She’d felt like a complete idiot. Thankfully no one else had been there to witness it, but she was pretty sure that had been the start of her spiralling descent which had ended in her spectacular crash and burn at Hadley’s reception.

  There had to be something more to her life. Something, or someone? that pesky voice asked. Maybe she was losing her mind after all.

  I am not interested in Griffin Callahan.

  Her mind went silent. But it wasn’t a normal kind of silent. It was a smug silence. Oh yeah, she was definitely losing her marbles, talking to voices in her head.

  It was ludicrous. She and Griffin? No way. Maybe when they’d been in high school the idea had seemed plausible in a naive kind of way, but they’d both grown into very different people since then. Griffin would never leave the land, and as for her … live back here? The idea was so absurd that it stunned her for a moment.

  He was the love of your life, the voice reminded her.

  ‘I was eighteen years old!’ Why the hell was she trying to justify herself to a voice in her head? Out loud?

  Olivia took a deep breath and released it slowly, calming her confused thoughts. So much for getting some fresh air. She headed back to the pub to see if Ollie was ready to go home yet. She needed a good night’s sleep, and hopefully tomorrow when they started working she’d be too busy to let herself contemplate notions as ridiculous as she and Griffin Callahan getting together again.

  Eight

  ‘I hear Olivia’s home,’ Lavinia Callahan said, putting a plate of food in front of Griffin.

  Griff gave a grunt and reached for the salt, trying not to make eye contact with his mother.

  ‘Have you seen her yet?’ she prodded.

  ‘Yeah. Briefly, last night,’ he said, hoping she’d drop the subject. He was still annoyed by Olivia’s attitude, yet part of him had been disappointed that she’d left not long after their exchange.

  ‘How is she?’ his mother asked, standing back with a hand on her hip as she waited for more information.

  Griffin sighed inwardly. He knew his mum: she wasn’t going to let it drop until she had answers. ‘She seemed fine. Ollie reckons the doctors are confident that Bill’s going to walk again, but it’s going to take a while.’

  ‘Did she say how long she was back for?’

  ‘No,’ Griff said shortly, and swore silently when he saw his mother’s eyes narrow at his tone. Damn it, she was like a shark smelling blood in the water.

  ‘Did you two have a fight?’

  ‘What? She’s been back in town all of five minutes, what makes you think we had a fight?’

  ‘Because you’re in a bad mood.’

  ‘Doesn’t mean it has anything to do with Olivia.’ His mother cocked an eyebrow and refused to budge, making him give a frustrated huff. ‘Fine. Okay, yeah, we had an argument,’ he snapped. How the hell did the woman do that? It was freaky.

  ‘Why would you start an argument with the poor girl? Her father’s just had a terrible accident, for goodness sake, Griffin.’

  Oh great. Now he was the bad guy. Typical. ‘I didn’t start it,’ he said, striving for patience. ‘She was being … a pain in the arse.’

  ‘Really, Griff,’ Lavinia said, pouring a wealth of motherly disappointment into her tone.

  ‘I was trying to be nice, and she got all high and mighty,’ he objected, hating that he sounded like a seven year old trying to talk his way out of trouble.

  ‘I don’t believe it. Olivia’s a darling girl, I can’t imagine her being that way. But anyhow, she deserves to be given some slack—she’s going through an awful time right now and I expect you to show her some support.’

  He opened his mouth to protest, but one look at her raised eyebrows and he promptly shut his mouth and gave a nod.

  ‘I want you to go over there today and invite them both over to dinner tomorrow. I’d go but I have a full day of CWA and board meetings.’

  His mother never stopped. She was a powerhouse of organisational efficiency.

  ‘Yes, Mum.’

  ‘Good. And apologise while you’re there,’ she threw over her shoulder.

  ‘Apologise my arse,’ he muttered under his breath as he picked up his knife and fork.

  ‘Excuse me?’ his mother asked, pausing.

  ‘I said, “Sure, Mum. I’ll do that.”’ With any luck, he’d see Ollie and pass the dinner invitation on without bumping into Olivia at all.

  ‘And this is why I don’t waste money on lotto tickets,’ he muttered as he pulled up in the Dawson paddock later that day. Luck was not in his corner. The first person he passed was Olivia, standing beside the farm ute, taking a drink from her esky.

  Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and stuck through the hole in the back of a baseball cap. What the hell was she wearing? His gaze ran over the T-shirt that fitted extremely well. The front was damp from either sweat or water spilling from the drink cooler she was tipping to her mouth and he kind of wished she’d spill a bit more. He moved further down over her dusty, denim shorts that showed way too much leg for his peace of mind. His peace of mind? When had he suddenly turned into some disapproving fuddy-duddy?

  He was tempted to keep going but couldn’t bring himself to drive straight past her in order to reach Ollie further down the paddock. Damn it. ‘Hey,’ he said when he reached her.

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘How’s it going?’ he asked, nodding his head towards the freshly windrowed paddock.

  ‘Getting there,’ she said stiffly.

  ‘Looks good,’ he said, eyeing the neat rows and straight lines of cut canola.

  ‘Listen I—’

  ‘About last night—’

  They had both started at the same time.

  Griff cleared his throat and waited for Olivia to continue.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about last night and I owe you an apology.’

  He hadn’t been expecting this. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off quickly. ‘You were right, I was out of line. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I probably shouldn’t have jumped down your throat like that.’

  The distant drone of Ollie’s machine carried into the silence that fell between them. He saw her shift her gaze out to the field where her brothe
r worked, before opening the lid of the small blue esky to put the cooler back inside.

  Like this, without makeup, without the city clothes, she looked like the Olivia he’d been in lov—. Whoa. Easy, he cautioned himself quickly, putting a stop to where he’d been heading. That was a lifetime ago. They were different people now. ‘Ah, Mum actually wanted me to come over and invite you and Ollie to dinner tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh. Well, I’m not sure, Ollie’s been doing a few late shifts.’

  ‘Yeah, I know. It’s been pretty hectic at our place too, but you gotta eat, and well … you know Mum,’ he said, sending her a wry smile. ‘If you don’t come over, you know she’s only going to bring dinner out here to you.’

  He saw her lips twitch in the smallest of smiles before her gaze darted away from his once more. ‘Sure, tell your mum we’ll be there. I’m sure Marty will be happy with an extra shift; Ollie would only stay in there all night otherwise.’

  ‘Great. Well,’ he said, ‘I’ll leave you to it, then.’

  ‘See you tomorrow,’ she said, still not looking at him. Then she turned away and climbed back into the cabin, effectively ending their conversation.

  There. He’d done exactly what his mother had told him to do. He would be neighbourly for a night and things would go back to the way they had always been between them—friends who’d grown up next door to each other.

  Sure, they had a past, but that was years ago. They had been kids then. Now they were adults and they had nothing whatsoever in common. He just wanted to get his life back on track. Olivia wouldn’t be hanging around here for long—she never did—and once she was back in the city, his life would finally settle back into some kind of normal again.

  Olivia let out a slow breath as she watched Griffin drive away. She felt her shoulders slump slightly. She hadn’t realised how tense she’d been. It was as though she’d put up a defensive shield, been on guard the moment he’d approached her, and now that he’d retreated she was finally able to relax.