covered her to her ankles. She wasn’t exactly a flower power child, but there was something of the hippy about her.
The longer he stared at her, the more he wanted to keep staring. Crazy. He loosened his tie a fraction and turned to the boys. ‘Robbie and Chase, it’s great to meet you. Thank you for letting me share your journey.’
‘You’re welcome, Mr Fairhall,’ the elder, Robbie, said with perfect manners.
He could see the path set out for the boy now—school prefect, school captain, dux, university medal and then a high-powered job in the public service.
What a nightmare!
Only for you.
He pushed the thought away. ‘If it’s okay with your mother you can call me Aidan.’
Quinn glanced at him briefly. Her lips tilted up into an easy smile. ‘That’s okay with me.’
Ten minutes later they stopped at an unprepossessing house and loaded the back of the car with an assortment of boxes and suitcases. The backpacks moved onto the back seat with the boys. Aidan insisted on doing all the heavy lifting.
‘See you, Perth,’ Quinn said with a jaunty wave at the house.
Both boys waved too.
‘Can we play our Gameboys now?’ Chase asked.
‘You can.’
Both boys whooped and dived into their backpacks. She glanced at Aidan and rolled her eyes. ‘They were specially bought for the trip.’
Probably quite a financial outlay for a single mum. Not that he had any proof that she was single.
‘And the deal was that they weren’t allowed to play them until the trip itself started.’
Smart move. Those things would keep the boys occupied for hours, which, quite obviously, had been her plan. He settled back in his seat as the suburbs of Perth passed by one after the other. ‘I know the clerk back at the store called you Mrs Laverty, but I also notice you’re not wearing a wedding ring.’ He kept his tone neutral. He didn’t want her thinking he was judging her or condemning her in any way. ‘Are you married or single or...’
Her brows lifted. ‘Does it matter?’
He loosened his tie a tiny bit more. ‘Not at all. But some people get fixated on titles so I always like to get them straight.’
‘I prefer Ms.’
Which told him precisely nothing at all. When he met her gaze, she laughed. Sparkling green eyes momentarily dazzled him. ‘You first,’ she dared.
A question like that would normally have him sitting up straighter. Instead he found himself chuckling and relaxing back into his seat even more. ‘Single. Most definitely single. Never been married; hence, never been divorced and not currently in a relationship.’
‘Ditto,’ she said.
‘So, are you moving back home? Is Newcastle where you grew up?’
‘No.’
Her face shuttered closed—not completely but in a half-fan—and he bit back a sigh. False start number one.
A moment’s silence ensued and then she turned to him with a smile that was too bright. ‘Is your campaign going well?’
He bit back a curse. Was that all people could think to converse with him about—his darn job? ‘Yes.’
Another moment’s silence. False start number two. For pity’s sake, he was good at small talk. He opened his mouth. He closed it again. The deep heaviness in his chest grew. Normally he could push it away, ignore it, but today it gave him no quarter. It was this stupid plane strike and the break in his routine. It had given him time to think.
Thinking wouldn’t help anything!
She glanced at him, her face sober, and he knew then that she was going to bring up the subject he most dreaded. He wanted to beg her not to, but years of good breeding prevented him.
‘How are you and your parents now, since your brother...?’
That was a different approach to most, but...The heaviness started to burn and ache. He rested his head back against his seat and tried to stop his lip from curling.
‘I’m sorry. Don’t answer that. It was a stupid thing to ask. Grieving in public must be harrowing. I just wanted to say I’m truly sorry for your loss, Aidan.’
The simple words with their innate sincerity touched him and the burn in his chest eased a fraction. ‘Thank you, Quinn.’
Two beats passed. Quinn shuffled in her seat a little and her ponytail bounced. ‘I’m moving to an olive farm.’
He straightened and turned to her. ‘An olive farm?’
‘Uh-huh.’ She kept her eyes on the road, but she was grinning. ‘I bet that’s not a sentence you hear every day, is it?’
‘It’s not a sentence I have ever heard uttered in my life.’
‘It’s probably not as startling as saying I was moving to an alpaca farm or going to work on a ferret breeding programme. But it’s only a degree or two behind.’
She’d made things good—or, at least, better—just like that. With one abrupt and startling admission. ‘What do you know about olives?’
She lifted her nose in the air. ‘I know that marinated olives on a cheese platter is one of life’s little pleasures.’
He laughed. She glanced at him and her eyes danced. ‘What about you; what do you know about olives?’
‘That they grow on trees. That they make olive oil. And that marinated olives on a cheese platter is one of life’s little pleasures.’
She laughed then too and he couldn’t remember a sound he’d ever enjoyed more. He closed his eyes all the better to savour it. It was the last thing he remembered.
* * *
Aidan sat bolt upright and glanced around. He was alone in the car. He peered at his watch.
He closed his eyes and shook his right arm, but when he opened them again the time hadn’t changed. He’d slept for two hours?
He pressed his palms to his eyes and dragged in a breath before stretching to the right and then the left to ease the cricks in his back and neck. Finally he took stock of his surroundings. Quinn had parked beneath a huge old gum tree to give him shade. At the moment she, Robbie and Chase kicked a ball around on a big oval in front of him. She’d hitched her dress up to mid-thigh into a pair of bike shorts.
His eyes widened. Man, she was...fit!
He shook his head and pressed fingers to his eyes again.
With bones that literally creaked, he pushed out of the car and stretched. Warm air caressed his skin and he slid his suit jacket off to lay it on the front seat. Quinn waved and then pointed behind him to an amenities block. ‘They’re clean and well maintained,’ she called out.
He lifted a hand to let her know he’d heard.
When he returned he found her sitting cross-legged on a blanket at the edge of the oval beside an assortment of bags.
‘Where are we?’
‘Wundowie.’
He pulled out his smart phone and searched for it on the Internet. ‘We’ve been travelling...’
‘Nearly two and a half hours, though we’re still only about an hour out of Perth. There was a lot of traffic,’ she said in answer to his raised eyebrow. ‘And there was some mini-marathon we had to be diverted around.’ She shrugged. ‘It all took time. Would you like a sandwich or an apple?’ She opened a cooler bag and proffered its contents towards him. ‘Or water? There’s plenty here.’