Chapter Two
Greer
“Noneedtocracka rib, Dad,” I wheeze as he nearly crushes me before dropping me to the floor in the middle of the terminal, oblivious to all the travellers trying to get out the door past his giant self.
“We’re so happy to have you home, Gee.” He takes a moment to wipe away a tear before I’m in the customary Carter family headlock.
“Cut it out, Harry,” Mum says with a shove. He lets me go and Mum goes in for the hug. It’s complete pandemonium. Anyone would think I’d been away for years, not six short months.
As I come up for air, I catch the gobsmacked expression on Josh’s gorgeous face, Will's arm draped over his shoulder. I’d like to take my time and drink him in like a strawberry margarita. I didn’t get much of a chance in customs. But there’s too much going on, everyone talking over one another and claiming my attention and his.
“You didn’t recognise me, did you?” I give him a slight nudge in the ribs. It’s rhetorical really. I know he didn’t. Although it wasn’t until I was waiting for my bag that I realised he thought he’d been hitting on a stranger in the passport line. I couldn’t resist playing it up. Especially when he caught me after I was clobbered with the suitcase. Let’s just say it was no hardship being pressed against such a delicious wall of muscle. It was all I could do not to climb him like a tree. And the look on his face when I put my number in his phone asAirport Pickup? Priceless.
“I … ah … Well, no, I didn’t.”
I grin so wide my cheeks hurt. “I thought not.” As Mum and Dad turn their attention to Josh, I turn to my brother, who, it has to be said, looks like he’s been dragged through a hedge backwards. “Wee, I wasn’t expecting you to be here.” He wraps an arm around my neck and rubs his knuckles across the top of my head like the obnoxious big brother he is.
“Don’t call me that.” He hates it when we use his childhood nickname. Which, of course, makes us do it more. The funny thing is, he gave himself the nickname when, as a toddler, he couldn’t wrap his tongue around William. It came out Wee-yam. Which, at some point, became Wee. And now the rest of us are stuck with our own versions of it—Gee for me and Bee and Eee for my brothers.
“Mum guilted you into it, didn’t she?”
“No. Well, maybe a bit.” I’m guessing he hasn’t been to bed yet. At least not his own. He ruffles my hair before turning to Josh. “You guys were on the same flight?”
I answer because Josh still looks like someone has punched him in the junk. “Apparently. But only one of us was in the pointy end.”
“I gave you my points. Did you not get an upgrade?” Dad starts to bluster, incensed to discover his little girl wasn’t travelling in style.
“Nope. Fully booked flight. But it was okay. I slept most of the way.”
Although, if an upgrade had come through, I might’ve spent the flight with Josh, which adds a layer of disappointment I didn’t feel earlier.
They spend a few more minutes fussing over me and Josh before Dad grabs my bag and we start to make our way to the carpark. Josh stands where we left him, hands on hips, expression blank, until Will turns and waves him on.
“Well, come on, dickhead. Did you think we’d leave you stranded here? There’s plenty of room.”
Shaking himself out of his fugue state, Josh grabs the handle of his suitcase and legs it to catch us up.
Luggage safely stowed in the boot of Dad’s obnoxiously over-sized Range Rover, I, as usual, end up in the middle of the back seat, sandwiched between Will and Josh. Will, I can ignore. The solid warmth of Josh’s thigh pressed against mine, not so much. My pulse is quicker than it should be, and I can feel my nipples tightening under my t-shirt.
Josh clutches his laptop bag over his lap. Interesting. He was very flirty with me before he realised who I was. I didn’t miss the way his body reacted when I accidentally fell into him. And you’d have to be an idiot not to know what grabbing a drink or a meal meant. But all the flirtiness came to a screeching halt when I was outed by the waiting family. Shame. Still, it was fun while it lasted.
Now he’s looking out the window with great concentration while carrying on a conversation with Will and Mum about what he’s been up to since he left. His jaw is tight, and I can see the pulse thrumming at the base of his throat. In time with my own.
My eyes drift to his beautiful hands, gripping the laptop bag like his life depends on it. The long, strong fingers. The neat nails. The raised blue veins pulsing under the skin. And the dusting of dark hair peeking out from under the sleeve of his jacket and whispering across his wrist.
“Where can we drop you, Josh?” Dad asks as we hit the Eastern Distributor, which is thankfully almost empty this early on a Sunday morning.
“The agency has put me up in a serviced apartment at Milson’s Point if it’s not too much trouble, Harry.”
“Not at all. It’s on the way. Will tells me you have a high-powered new job.”
“I don’t know about high-powered. It’s definitely a step up, though.”
Will snorts. “Don’t sell yourself short. I did some digging. Parachute is the fastest-growing agency in Sydney. And you’re their new wunderkind creative director. Sounds pretty high-powered to me.”
“Oh, how wonderful for you, Josh. You deserve it. We know how hard you’ve worked. We couldn’t be prouder of you,” Mum gushes, twisting in her seat to pat Josh on the knee. She adores Josh. As does Dad. Although they didn’t always. I can see the blush creeping along Josh’s sharp cheekbones.
“You’ve certainly turned yourself around since you nearly got William expelled from school for sneaking off to the adult entertainment shop at lunchtime,” Dad roars, laughing at the memory of their first encounter with Josh. Dad wasn’t laughing then, that’s for sure.
