Maybe one day…
‘What’s all thi—? Ah, g’day, Ramila.’ Dad cut himself off to greet Nellie’s wife with a kiss on the cheek. ‘Lovely to see you. Congratulations on the little nipper.’
‘Thanks, Tony,’ she replied indulgently.
He studied me, but I had no desire to return his gaze. I shifted the baby carefully and managed to plonk him back into Nellie’s arms before any harm came to him – or Dad had a chance to make the comment I could feel brewing.
‘Well, boys, don’t stand around in the lobby all day. You can at least get out of the way while the swannies move the mattresses in.’
This was a pretty nice hotel compared with some of the questionable establishments we stayed at year after year, but sleep was critical during the Tour, as evidenced by the truck transporting eight ergonomic mattresses all around France, one for each Harper-Stacked rider.
On camp, we suffered through sweat testing and endurance training but during the Tour we were pampered, aside from the gruelling hours spent on the road.
As the guys dispersed, I drifted across the lobby, helpless to move in any other direction except towardsher. She kept her eyes off me until my toes were in her line of sight, but I could see how much it was costing her. When she finally looked up, her expression was waxy and pinched – and Lori was smirking at me in a less-than-subtle hint that she knew what was going on here. That made one of us.
‘G’day, Magda. Monster,’ I added as an afterthought, using my childhood nickname for my sister as I draped an arm over her shoulders. She was nearly two years older, but when she was being a hardarse, that age gap felt like ten years and on the rare occasions when she showed her vulnerability, it was no gap at all.
‘Valerio,’ Leesa deadpanned in reply, a small smile on her lips.
Without questioning my actions, I draped an arm around her as well and squeezed both of them. I wanted to wind a finger in her springy curls, turn that dry smile into a happy one. I felt as though I’d spent the past two weeks as a slab of stone, but one touch from her and I was a person again.
It was definitely the stress talking.
‘Why do I feel like the third wheel?’ Lori asked, a pained expression on her face. ‘What happened to the staying away thing?’ she asked Leesa in a stage whisper that I was obviously supposed to hear.
Lori extricated herself, but I leaned heavily on Leesa – in a companionable, friendly manner. ‘I’m staying away,’ I insisted brazenly.
‘Urgh, this is weird, bronads,’ Lori commented.
‘You don’t get to say that,’ I countered, reluctantly dropping my arm. ‘I shared a fucking bedroom with your boyfriend for half the season last year. I haven’t recovered yet.’
‘Is that your excuse? I didn’t think it was contagious.’
‘What’s contagious? Falling—?’ I cut myself off just in time, although the look Lori shot me suggested she had her suspicions about what I’d been about to say.
Leesa’s voice, low and amused, smoothed over the conversation. ‘Oh, how I missed the dulcet tones of the Gallagher siblings bickering.’
‘Just watch out,’ Lori grumbled. ‘He’s probably slipped a cockroach into your pocket.’
Leesa’s gaze snapped up in alarm as her hands dipped into her pockets in a panic.
‘It’s down your shirt,’ I admitted sheepishly.
With an abortive shriek, she slapped at the back of her neck, tugging at the neckline of her pretty blouse. I grasped her forearms gently and tugged.
‘I’m joking.’
‘You bastard!’ Her eyes flashed and her chest was heaving and wow, I’d missed her. Just two weeks and it had been two weeks too long. I wanted to kiss her; just a light peck would take the edge off.
I heard footsteps and then the voice of Lori’s boyfriend Seb. He’d retired at the end of the season last year, but was back to help out the support staff for the Tour – and probably to catch a few days with Lori. ‘Do we need to separate them?’ he asked.
‘Pretty sure Leesa can take care of herself and I’ve got no interest in protecting Colin, but we don’t want Dad to find them in such a compromising position.’
I was rather enjoying the compromising position, the familiar scent of her reaching my nostrils and her skin under my fingers. The shot of endorphins was better than a post-race massage. But Leesa drew away, swiping my hand off her arm when I couldn’t seem to release her.
‘Maybe you can make yourself useful and take a photo of us,’ Lori interrupted my thorough study.
‘Uh, ’course.’ I tore my gaze away, accepting Lori’s phone from her.
