Chapter One
Kida
Here we were, then. I stared up at my boyfriend, James’ childhood home with trepidation. It was a traditional timber home painted in blue and white with a wide veranda and ornate trimmings. It was exactly how I had pictured it. Well, except for the turret—an actual turret—poking up from the centre.
Anxious energy flowed through me, making me jiggle my legs and hug myself while I waited for James to retrieve our baggage and pay the taxi driver for his services. I picked up my pink and purple daisy-covered overnight bag and chewed the inside of my cheek.
James pushed away some hair that was stuck to my forehead. Silver Harbor, Alabama was predictably hot and humid this time of year, and I’d been sweating ever since my Southern boyfriend and I exited the airport in Mobile.
“Are you okay, Keeds?” he asked me.
“Um… I don’t know. I’m nervous,” I admitted.
“Why? You’ve met my mom before. She loves you.”
“Yeah, but that was before we were together.”
James laughed. “Do you know how long my mother has wanted me to be in a relationship with you?”
“How long?” I narrowed my eyes at him.
James put an arm around me and said, “Pretty much since the first time she met you.”
“But that was four years ago. That was before my family started pushing it.” Or, more precisely, my mother had pushed it. Three whole years now, that was how long she had been at it. Oh, what a turnaround Bree Marks had made last night.
“Yep,” James said in confirmation.
We were visiting from New York City for a few days with a plan to hit some antique stores so we could find some things to build my new kitchen with. I was in love with shabby chic and French provincial—two styles that the southern states of the U.S.A. did well.
Despite the French influence, this small town in Alabama was bringing back memories of Queensland in January. My family and I were Australians who now called NYC our home. Although I loved living in the Big Apple, there were certain things I missed about Australia—and ninety percent humidity wasn’t one of them, which meant that yes, we were unlucky enough to find a taxi with questionable air conditioning.
“So, everything should be cool?” I wasn’t convinced and huddled closer to James.
“Trust me,” he whispered as he kissed my temple.
I rested my head against him, and we made our way along the small footpath that led to the house. My heart pounded when Sheryl Cross stepped out onto the veranda. The woman’s rich brown eyes were alight with happiness and she waved both of her suntanned arms at us. “Hi, you two.”
“Hi, Mom,” James replied as he hugged her.
Sheryl was a small woman, not much taller than me, and what she lacked in physical size, she made up for in presence. She always filled a space with such warmth, yet she had a no-nonsense personality, which I supposed came from raising four kids on her own. I admired Sheryl for that. After all, she had raised a stand-up bloke like James.
Sheryl’s scrutinising gaze travelled over her son. “You look well.”
James smiled.
“Kida.” Sheryl’s greeting was so soft and loving as she turned to me and hugged me.
“It’s nice to see you, Sheryl,” I said as I leaned into the hug.
“You too, sweetie,” Sheryl replied as she pulled back and tucked a strand of her wispy brown hair behind her ear. “It’s about time you came to the South. You even dressed perfectly for the occasion. This dress looks lovely and cool.” She rubbed the material between her thumb and forefinger and I glanced down at my green sleeveless summer dress. “Come on in. I haven’t had time to make up the guest room for you yet, Kida. I apologise. I’ve been so busy.”
“It’s okay, Mom. You don’t need to do that.” A cautious tone slipped into James’ voice.
“Of course I do. Where else is the poor girl going to sleep? On the couch?”
“Not exactly…” he trailed off.
“Then are you offering to make it up for me?”
“No.”
Sheryl spun around to face her son and planted her hands on her hips. “James Jason Cross, use your words.”
When a snigger fell out of my mouth unbidden James glared at me before he turned back to his mum. “Keeds can stay in my room, Mom.”
Sheryl flashed a puzzled look our way.
James took my hand and glanced at me. If it was at all possible, I was feeling even more nervous than before. “We’re together.”
“Oh, my gosh, finally.” Sheryl threw her hands to her cheeks and a smile as big as the state threatened to split her face in two.
James rolled his eyes.
Sheryl dropped her hands from her face and clapped them together. “When did this happen?”
“It’s pretty new,” I said.
“I’m so happy for you both. It’s great that you finally—”
“Finally admitted it to each other? Yeah, yeah,” James finished for her.
“Clearly, I’m not the only one who thinks this?” Sheryl guessed.
“Nope. Her family had been pretty annoying about it, too,” James said.
“You think I’m annoying?” Sheryl shot a playful glare at her son. “I can still clip you under the ear, you know.”
“He didn’t mean that,” I interrupted at lighting speed as I elbowed James hard in the ribs, causing him to grunt and rub the spot I’d hit him in. “Thank you for your blessing, Mrs. Cross.”
“Oh, sweetie, you don’t need my blessing.”
“It’s nice all the same.”
“Okay, James. I’ll let you take her up while I prepare some morning snacks for us. I’m sure you could both use some refreshments after your trip.” Sheryl began to head down the hallway beside the stairs.
“Thanks, Mom, that’ll be great,” James answered. Sheryl disappeared into the bowels of the house, and James turned to me. “See? Nothing to worry about.”
I watched Sheryl’s receding back for a moment. “What will happen when she finds out I’m not just with you, though?”
“Let’s worry about one thing at a time.”
This was a unique situation I found myself in, having started a relationship with two men who loved me and who didn’t mind sharing me. Two men whom I loved more than I’d ever loved anyone in my life. Two men who also happened to be lifelong friends—a British man and an American who had been friends since they were teenagers. Miles had stayed behind in New York to supervise the plumber and electrician he had hired for my renovation while James brought me to his hometown for the first time in our four-year bond, which had grown from best friends into lovers.
James and I started making our way up the stairs.“So, I noticed something odd when we were outside.”
“What, babe?”
“Your house has a turret.”
“It does,” James confirmed.
“A turret,” I repeated in disbelief.
“Yep.”
“Who has a turret?”
James grinned. “We do.”
“What do you use it for?”
James sent me a secretive smile. “I might tell you later.”
I nudged him. “You will.”
We stopped in front of a closed door halfway down the left side of the hallway.
“So, is this it?” My sapphire blue eyes lit up with excitement.
“Yep. My childhood bedroom,” James replied.
“Let’s do it.”
James caught my hand as I reached for the handle, stopping me in my tracks. “First of all, I want you to know that my room hasn’t changed much since I was a kid.”
Sappy love for him washed over me and I smiled up at him. “Now who’s nervous?”
James huffed out an uncharacteristic, shy laugh. “Yeah, well, you mean a lot to me, Keeds. I don’t want to scare you off.”
“You think your boyhood bedroom will scare me?” I hugged him tight. “Not possible, James.”
He squeezed me and I reached up to kiss his cheek.
“You’re such a beautiful man. Now. Do. It,” I ordered as a cheeky smile played across my lips.
James turned the handle and pushed the door open and I walked in slowly and took my time taking in my new surroundings. Striking royal blue and white stripes were painted on the walls and football posters were hung up everywhere. There was also a poster of Kate Beckinsale.
I turned back to James, who was leaning on the door jamb with his arms folded in front of him. “Someone loves their football.”
James chuckled. “As if you didn’t already know that.”
I grinned, and one corner of James’ mouth turned up in a careful smile. I could tell he was still nervous. “I see you had a thing for Kate Beckinsale. Are you a Pearl Harbour fan, then?”
James laughed at my verbal antics. It looked like my attempts to put him at ease were working. “Try Underworld.”
My mischievous laugh filled the room as I put my bag on the blue duvet, then wandered over to a display of trophies and medals. Most of them were for football, sure, but there were also some for track, swimming, and baseball. “Is there a sport in existence that you’re completely rubbish at, James?”
James thought about that for a moment. “Ballet.”
Laughing, I said, “No, for real.”
“For real. Ballet and I don’t go well together. I can’t get my toes to go pointy enough. Never mind the pirouettes.”
I doubled over with laughter as James finally moved into the room. “Oh God, James, you crack me up.”
He ditched his bag on the bed beside mine. “What about you? Can you do a pirouette?”
“Sort of, with help.”
James gladly took my hand. My breath caught as he watched me twirl in front of him, my dress billowing out around me. I would never be as graceful as my dancer sister, Willa.
“Keeds, that was amazing,” he exclaimed as he caught me against his chest.
“If not for the lame ending.”
“Not lame.” James held me against him and swayed with me.
Our faces came within inches of each other, and I touched the tip of my thumb against his dimple. “Are you dancing with me?”
“Sure looks that way.”
Desire rolled through my body. James dipped me and I sighed when he kissed my throat. When he lifted me back up, I caught sight of a photograph of a little boy with a huge grin on his face and a football trophy in his hand. I went and picked it up, and my stomach fluttered when James wrapped his arms around me. We looked at the photo together.
“How old were you here?” I asked.
“Seven. It was the first year my football team won the local competition.”
“You were a cutie.”
“And now?”
“Now you’re super-hot,” I said without a second thought.
James kissed my cheek. “Good answer. So, does my room pass inspection?” He asked as I replaced the picture.
“With flying colours. So, you see, you had absolutely nothing to worry about.”
“You really like it?”
“Yes.” I reached up and gave him a gentle kiss. When we broke apart, James rubbed his nose against mine and gazed at me. “What?” I asked self-consciously.
“Just looking at my baby.”
“I’d love to stay here with you like this, James, but I think we should head down. Your mum will be waiting for us.” I reluctantly stepped away from him and went to my bag out of which I pulled a cellophane package with a blue ribbon tied around it.
“Are those what I think they are?” James asked, eyeing the packet of my homemade ANZAC cookies.
“Yes.” I quickly hid them behind my back. “But they’re not for you. They’re a gift for your mum.”
James latched onto me again. “I’m not allowed just one?”
“No,” I answered.
“Are you sure?” James kissed me right on the spot under my jaw, which melted me. “They’re my favourite snacks in the whole world, you know.”
“Even more than strawberry-filled Freddo Frog chocolates?”
“Yes, because you baked them.”
Of course he’d appeal to my emotions. “You’re quite convincing.”
“Does that mean it’s working?” James muttered as he moved his lips to the corner of my mouth.
I jumped when his hands tried to grab the packet from behind my back. “No, James.” I laughed as I pulled away.
“Damn it, you’re evil,” James laughed, following me out of the bedroom.
