Read Online Walking the Line by Nicola Marsh - Free Book Online Page A

victory.
    We weren’t over and I knew just what I had to
do to convince Ellie of that.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
     
    ELLIE
     
     
    Sunday had officially sucked: waking at two
in the afternoon with a monster hangover, sneaking around to avoid
Finn only to find him gone, Kye ignoring my frantic texts to sack
Finn, and ending with me booking into a cheap motel on the
outskirts of the city to avoid Finn until I could get Kye to do my
dirty work.
    Considering I still couldn’t get hold of Kye,
Monday wasn’t shaping up any better.
    My second double latte of the morning did
little to wake me as I perched on my favorite bench at Circular
Quay, watching the ferries. This was my ritual, a calming start to
the week that never failed to quell the jaded cynic in me and
resurrect the hidden optimist.
    Because every Monday when I came to watch the
busy harbor, I remembered doing a similar thing with my parents.
Sitting by the manmade lake in Dubbo every week, watching the
sailboats. It had been the rare time my parents were happy. Almost
carefree. Buying me ice creams. Smiling at each other. Occasionally
holding hands. Before Mum got bored and ran off with a younger guy,
leaving Dad heartbroken and morose and disinterested in parenting
his only child.
    I’d hated Mum for her selfishness. Blamed her
for my lack of siblings and lost family. It was the reason I’d
wanted to have kids early, to make my own family.
    Look how that had turned out.
    But I returned to Circular Quay every Monday
morning to remember a time I was happy, before family bust-ups and
relationship failings and having my heart ripped out because I
couldn’t have what I wanted most.
    “Thought I might find you here.”
    My heart sank as Finn sat next to me: too
close, too gorgeous, too much.
    “Leave me alone,” I growled, draining the
last of my coffee and instantly craving another. Not that I really
needed it, because the caffeine didn’t give me half as much of a
buzz as Finn’s proximity.
    “Can’t do that,” he said, resting his elbows
on the back of the bench and stretching out his legs, looking like
a carefree tourist lapping up the sun. “We need to talk.”
    “No, we don’t.” I crushed the plastic cup in
my hand and lobbed it into a nearby bin. “And by the way, you’re
fired. So pack your things and get out before I return.”
    To my astonishment, he laughed. “You’re not
getting rid of me that easily.”
    “Would you prefer I take out a restraining
order?” My tone was sickly sweet. “Bet that would go down a treat
with Immigration and your working visa.”
    He didn’t speak and when I shot him a
sideways glance, rather than seeing panic, I glimpsed
amusement.
    “You’d do anything to get rid of me,
huh?”
    “Yep.” If I nodded any harder my head would
fall off.
    “Too bad for you, because I’m not going
anywhere.” He swiveled to face me and his fingertip brushed my
shoulder. I jumped at the surge that awakened my body far better
than the two lattes. “You trusted me with the truth. Now it’s time
I trusted you.”
    Damn him for piquing my curiosity.
    “I’ll take your silence as approval to
continue?” His mouth twisted into a wry grin and I had a hard time
blocking out the vivid memories of how his mouth felt against mine.
And lower.
    Cursing my stupidity for wanting to hear what
he had to say, I managed the briefest of nods.
    “The turf position in Melbourne? My
grandfather’s dream, not mine.” He huffed out a long sigh. “I’m the
epitome of the good Irish son. Family comes first. Lived in Cork my
whole life. Went into the patriarchal business. Had a staid
relationship with the girl next door.”
    “I know all this,” I muttered, on the verge
of saying to hell with this and bolting. Nothing Finn could say or
do would change facts: no way could we be a couple, ever.
    “Let me finish.” He cleared his throat.
“Being the family’s poster boy can become pretty bloody tiring, so
I’m done. Time to live life on my