Runaway Page 2

  “So how are you enjoying the holidays?” Nate asked, as they walked side by side.

  “Fine.”

  “Just fine, huh?”

  “It’s good not being at school.”

  “Not enjoying school much, then?” Nate asked, although that much was obvious from Jackson’s sullen tone.

  Jackson rolled his eyes then looked back to the footpath.

  “There must be something you like at school. What about your friends? That kid you used to hang out with all the time. Dylan?”

  Jackson looked at Nate. “Dylan’s not going back to school this year.”

  “Oh. Why not?” Jackson had just completed year eleven. He had one more year of school to complete and attain his Higher School Certificate. After that, perhaps university.

  “He’s doing an apprenticeship.”

  “Cool. What’s he want to do?”

  “Air conditioning.”

  Jeez, having a conversation with Jackson was hard, as Nate found himself having to draw every word from him. “And what about you, Jackson? Still want to be a pilot?” That earned him another eye-roll.

  “I haven’t wanted to be a pilot since primary school.”

  “Oh. Well, how about a doctor like your uncle, then?” Nate chuckled but his teasing fell flat. “Are you going to tell me or do you want me to guess? Although lots of kids don’t know what they want to do when they finish school until right at the last minute. And even then people often change their minds. Change study courses. Change jobs. You shouldn’t be worried if you’re not sure yet.”

  “I am sure.” Jackson came to a stop as they reached the wharf entrance. “But it doesn’t matter what I want.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Mum wants me to finish my HSC. She won’t let me leave school without it.”

  “And you don’t want to finish high school, I take it?”

  Jackson shook his head. “I hate going there and I don’t need to finish school. I want to do what Dylan’s doing. Well, not exactly. I don’t want to work in air conditioning, I want to work with boats. Marine mechanics. I want to do an apprenticeship.”

  “I don’t know much about that field, but I can see why you’d want to work with boats.” Nate indicated the shoreline before them, where a number of craft of different types and sizes were moored.

  “Yeah.” Jackson smiled for what seemed like the first time that day. “I love being outdoors and on the water. I couldn’t imagine working inside like you do.”

  “Hey, it’s not that bad.” Nate mock punched Jackson’s upper arm before leaning on the damp railing and gazing out over the water. “Have you told your mum all of this?”

  “Yeah.”

  Nate looked back at his nephew. “And she doesn’t want you to be a mechanic?”

  “It’s not that. She says she doesn’t mind whatever I choose to do, but she wants me to have my Higher School Certificate to fall back on. So if I change my mind later and decide to go to uni, I can. So she wants me to get my HSC, then do an apprenticeship.”

  Nate considered what Jackson had said for a moment. “I guess I can see both sides of the story—”

  “I knew you’d take her side,” Jackson said angrily.

  “I’m not taking anyone’s side, mate,” he assured, but Jackson glared at him. “I just know your mum wants what’s best for you. She’s worked hard to give you all the opportunities she never had.”

  “But just because she couldn’t go to university doesn’t mean I want to.”

  “I know, but think of why it means so much to her.”

  “So you think I should go to university too? Like you did?”

  “I didn’t say that either. It’s just important for you to understand where your mum’s coming from so you can discuss it rationally. It will be an easier discussion if you can address her concerns while getting your own point across. You get what I’m saying?” He waited until he had Jackson’s reluctant nod. “I’d suggest you sit down with her and have another chat. Let her know what path you want to take and why. I’m sure between the two of you, you can work it out.”

  “I hope so.” Jackson sounded despondent. “I can’t handle another year of school.”

  “Is there something else worrying you?”

  He shook his head, but Nate had a feeling there was something he was hiding, particularly with Jackson’s comments about hating being at school. However, he decided not to push things for now. At least they’d discussed one of the things worrying Jackson, and it was probably best to tackle one thing at a time. He forced the brightness back into his voice again. “In that case, how about we get to the tackle shop and take a look at what we need? I can’t wait to go fishing. You know I haven’t been since the last time you and I went together?”

  Jackson brightened as they reminisced about their last fishing adventure, and as the sun came out from behind the clouds, Nate found himself feeling a lot more positive too.

  NATE HELD open the door of the shop, allowing Jackson to enter before him. The air-conditioned interior was a welcome relief after the walk in the muggy afternoon heat. A quick look around showed the Pacific Bait & Tackle was a lot different since the last time Nate had paid a visit. It must have been fifteen years since he’d last set foot in the shop, at least before his dad had died anyway. Since then he’d always used the gear his old man had cherished—rods and reels most likely older than Nate was. But today was a special treat; he’d promised Jackson an early birthday present.

  Instead of a dark and crowded shop, this revamped version was light and bright, with white walls displaying neat rows of equipment. Walls filled with fishing lures of every size and colour, and small bags containing hooks and sinkers. Rods were on display, as were larger items such as fishing nets. The centre racks held tackle boxes and tools, everything you could dream of wanting for fishing. Jackson was looking at a revolving book display, flicking through a book about fish identification.

  “I don’t think you’ll need that, Jackson. I’m sure Dad would have had a book with pictures about fish types.”

  Jackson grinned. “I think Pop had the market cornered in fishing books. There must be dozens of books at home.” He placed the book back on the shelf. “Can we check out the rods, Uncle Nate?”

  “Sure.” They wandered over to the area housing fishing rods. “Did you have something particular in mind?”

  Jackson shrugged. “Not really. I—”

  “Can I help you?”

  They both turned at the deep voice greeting them.

  Oh my God!

  Nate’s stomach dropped. He hadn’t seen Damien in years, but the man still had the power to knock his socks off.

  Damien recovered first. “Nathan Powell. So, it is true. I heard you’d come back to town. How are you?”

  Nate thrust out his hand, which was immediately engulfed in Damien’s strong grip, the roughness of his palm hot against Nate’s damp skin. His knees felt weak as nervousness swamped him—ridiculous, really, given he was a forty-two-year-old man.

  “Yeah, the rumour mill is alive and kicking,” he chuckled, but the laugh felt forced. “It’s good to see you, Damien.” That part was true.

  Damien nodded, his brown eyes crinkling as he smiled. The years had been kind to Damien, and he still looked damned hot, but the time in the sun had given him both a tan and small laugh lines that hopefully reflected a happy life. “It’s good to see you too. What’s it been? Years.”

  Nate thought for a moment, but he’d never really forgotten when he’d last seen the man who’d once been so important to him. The last time he’d seen Damien had been around the time of his parents’ funeral. Nate had been at the wake, Trish plastered to his side. Jackson had been about six at the time. Nate had been dealing with the grief of losing his parents, Trish’s fears for the future, his niece and nephew, who didn’t understand what was going on, and the heartache of seeing Damien again, or more accurately, the heartache of deciding to put a stop to whatever it
was they had going. After that visit, he’d made sure never to run into Damien again, avoiding anywhere the man was likely to be, and never asking any questions about what he was up to. It hurt too much to think about him. But being in Sydney had made things easier. There Nate had work as a distraction. Plus, there were lots of places to drown his sorrows, so to speak, plenty of men to help with trying to obliterate his desire for Damien.

  “It must be close on eight or nine years.” He nodded at his nephew. “Jackson was only starting primary school.”

  Damien grinned at Jackson who studied him intently. “That was definitely a few years ago then. What are you, in year ten or eleven at school now?”

  “I’m in year twelve.”

  “God, time goes fast.” Damien groaned and held his hand out to Jackson. “It’s nice to meet you, Jackson. You probably don’t remember me, as it seems like you were only six or seven when we last met. I’m Damien Sinclair, an old friend of your uncle’s.”

  “Hi, nice to meet you too. Do you work here?”

  “Sure do.” Damien’s smile was wide. “Actually, I own this place now.”

  Nate was pleased to see the pride on Damien’s face. He’d obviously achieved a lot in the time since they’d last seen each other.

  “Cool,” Jackson said. “Can you help us choose a rod, then?”

  “You betcha. Come over here and I’ll show you a few options. Do you have a certain price range?”

  Jackson looked at Nate. “Uncle Nate?”

  “Not really. Let’s just see what Damien shows us first.”

  It was obvious Jackson’s enthusiasm nearly bowled Damien over. He was full of questions, and Damien was happy to field them all. They discussed the advantages of carbon fibre over graphite and the differences between various brands of rod. They then spoke about reels.

  Nate stood back and watched the two of them as he tried to figure out the strange feelings that assaulted him. A fluttery excitement in the pit of his stomach fought with a hard lump in his chest.

  One thing was for sure: Damien still had the power to get his pulse racing and take over his thoughts.

  Chapter TWO

  “ARE YOU sure this is a good idea, Trish?”

  Trish circled the small table, laying cutlery at each place setting. “Of course, and why wouldn’t it be?”

  “You’re sure you’re not trying to set me up?”

  Her eyebrows rose to her hairline and she raised a hand to her throat. “What? Moi? You think little old me would be meddling?”

  “Trish.” Nate put as much warning into the word as he could, but she just grinned and went back to setting the table. “I mean it, Trish. What Damien and I had was a lifetime ago and it’s been over for just as long. I’m surprised you even remember. I don’t want you interfering.”

  “I’m not interfering. Maybe I’m just bringing the two of you together so you can see how things go. Let nature take its course, so to speak.”

  “Oh God.” If nature took its course and Nate answered its call, he’d be laying himself across the table and offering himself as the entree. He didn’t need to have dinner with Damien to know he still felt an incredible pull toward the man. Who wouldn’t? Damien was gorgeous—tall and broad, and just a little bit rough around the edges, something that totally appealed to Nate. The way he’d gripped Nate’s hand when they’d seen each other again, Damien’s grip strong and sure, his palm slightly calloused against Nate’s own soft skin.

  “Earth calling Nate.”

  “Huh?”

  The sound of Trish’s giggle left no doubt he’d zoned out for more than a moment.

  He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I don’t want you messing in this, Trish. It’ll be nice to catch up with Damien. But as old friends, that’s all.”

  “If you say so, hon.” Trish winked and headed to the kitchen, leaving him pondering the night ahead.

  Could we even go back to friendship? Nate wasn’t sure that was possible, but at the same time there was no way he was going to miss a chance at finding out.

  THE ROAST chicken dinner was delicious. Trish had prepared a standout meal as usual, and by the looks of Damien’s empty plate, he had enjoyed it too.

  “That was wonderful, Trish. I wish I could eat like this more often.”

  “Well, thank you.” Trish preened under the praise, reminding Nate that she didn’t entertain too often, what with being busy with the kids and the salon. “And you’re welcome to come over for a meal at any time.”

  “Don’t say that or you’ll never get rid of me.” Damien chuckled.

  “Oh, I don’t think that would be a problem.” Trish gave Nate a pointed look. He narrowed his eyes and hoped she’d get the silent message he was sending. She just smiled and turned back to Damien. “Did you want some more? There’s plenty of chicken and roast vegetables left over in the kitchen.”

  Damien shook his head. “I couldn’t eat another bite, but thanks.”

  “Nate? More for you? Kids, have you had enough?” Jackson and Belinda shook their heads. “In that case, you can both clear the table for me and help tidy the kitchen while I get dessert.” Trish stood and pushed back her chair, gathering the empty plates. “We’ll leave you guys to catch up.” The kids followed in her wake, leaving a sudden silence at the table.

  “What—”

  “That—” They spoke at the same time, and Nate let out a nervous laugh. “Sorry. You go.”

  “I was just going to ask how things were going now you’ve moved back to town.”

  Nate sipped his chardonnay before answering. “To be honest, I haven’t been back for long, and my main focus has been on keeping the clinic running. I’ve had to get to know the two other doctors, familiarise myself with the patients, and get a feel for the place. But in some regards it feels like I’ve never been away.”

  “How so?” Damien sat back in his chair, studying Nate.

  “Well, for a start, I know so many of the patients. Friends of Mum and Dad’s or just people I knew from before I left town. And it seems that even if I don’t recognise the people, they sure know who I am. If I have to hear one more time just how much I look like my father, I’ll strangle someone.”

  Damien guffawed. “Attempted murder probably isn’t the best way to get ahead in a new business. But I must say you all share a strong family resemblance.”

  Nate flushed under Damien’s obvious appraisal but managed to relax a bit. “I’m glad I took over the practice, but everyone expects me to behave like my predecessor. He wasn’t a bad doctor, but the comparisons are getting old already, plus the concern they all seem to have because I’m so young.” Nate made air quotes around the young. “I’m over forty, for God’s sake, and even have a head full of grey hair. You reckon people would be happy for some fresh new blood.”

  “The older folk aren’t too good with change. But some of us don’t mind a bit of new blood. And I think the salt-and-pepper look suits you,” Damien said as he quirked a brow.

  Nate nearly choked on his wine. Oh God, I walked right into that one.

  Luckily Damien didn’t pursue the subject. It seemed his quick tease was enough for now. “And you’re living here with Trish and the kids?”

  “Oh jeez, no,” Nate hurried to say. “As much as I love them all, I need my space. I’ve bought a house a couple of blocks away from the clinic. It’s just a bungalow but it’s all I need. There’s room for the kids if they want to stay, and it’s within walking distance so they can pop over any time.”

  “So no one else in your life?” Damien’s tone was casual but his brown eyes held Nate’s as he waited for the answer.

  Nate shook his head then looked away. “I haven’t really had time for a relationship. Doctor’s hours and all that stuff.”

  “I’ve heard it can be rough, especially the early years.”

  Nate breathed a sigh of relief to be back in safer territory. He hated to talk about his love life or lack thereof. He’d made certain decisions and lived with t
hose, but it didn’t mean he liked to think too deeply about his current situation. “And what about you? What’s the Damien Sinclair story?”

  Damien leaned forward and fiddled with his now empty glass. “There’s not much to tell. I run my own business. I bought the Pacific Bait & Tackle after a few years of managing the place. I have a unit above the shop, which has its advantages and disadvantages.”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s handy to be near work and great to be near the water, but it can be noisy, not really a home, you know?” Nate wondered at Damien’s sudden change in demeanour. He seemed quieter, as if talking about his living arrangements touched on something sensitive. Damien’s gaze met his. “My partner moved out about eighteen months ago. Got sick of life in a quiet seaside town and wanted to experience life in the city.”

  Nate’s heart fell at Damien’s obvious pain, but jealousy flared at the same time. Ridiculous! I shouldn’t be jealous of Damien having a relationship, not to mention being jealous of a relationship that failed.

  “I’m sorry.” Nate leaned across and touched Damien’s forearm where it rested on the table.

  “Don’t be. If it wasn’t meant to be, then it wasn’t meant to be.” And surprisingly Damien did sound as if he meant that.

  “Sorry I took so long, guys.” Nate jerked his hand back as Trish entered the dining room bearing a pie dish. Jackson followed with a bowl of whipped cream. Belinda handed out plates and spoons as they all resettled at the table.

  “That looks delicious, Trish,” Nate said.

  She smiled. “Mum’s apple and rhubarb pie. Can’t go wrong.” She served them all with generous slices of the pie: golden pastry, and oozing fruit filling. The conversation returned to more general topics—that is, until Trish steered it exactly where she wanted it to go. Damn that woman. “Damien, Nate promised Jackson that he’d take him out fishing. They were going to hire a boat, but Jackson mentioned you told him you have one. I was wondering if I could impose on you to take the boys out one weekend. When you’re not working, that is.”