Once upon a time she’d loved him.
That had been years ago. A teenage romance. Yes, they’d felt as if they were truly, madly, deeply, but they were only kids.
At nineteen he’d headed off to Sydney to Police Training College. Abby had been stuck in Banksia Bay until she finished school, and she’d needed a partner for her debutante ball.
He still remembered the arguments. ‘You’re my boyfriend. How can I have anyone else as my partner? Why can’t you come home more often so we can practice?’
And more … ‘You and Ben are totally obsessed with that car. Every time you come home, that’s all you ever think about.’
They were kids. He hadn’t seen her need, and she hadn’t seen his. Philip had been home from university; he’d agreed to partner her for her ball and Raff was given the cold shoulder.
They’d been kids moving on. Changing.
They had changed, he conceded, only just now he’d seen a glimpse that the old Abby was still in there. Feisty and funny and gorgeous.
But still … unforgiving, and who could blame her?
He’d forgiven himself. He didn’t need Abigail Callahan’s forgiveness. He couldn’t need it.
If only she wasn’t adorable.
CHAPTER THREE
THE afternoon was interminable. The case was boring—financial evidence that was as dry as dust.
The courtroom was as dry as dust.
She couldn’t think of a way to tell Philip.
All afternoon she was aware of Raff on the opposite side of the courtroom. He was here this afternoon to present the police case. Thankfully, he wouldn’t be here for the rest of the week. He was called away twice, for which she was also thankful, but he wasn’t called away for long enough.
He was watching her.
He was waiting for her to tell Philip?
He was laughing at her. She knew he was. The man spelled trouble and he’d just got her into more.
Trouble? One small dog, easily contained in a secure backyard. How hard could this be?
So tell Philip.
There was lots of time. The police case went on for most of the afternoon—tedious financial details. She and Philip both knew it back to front. There were gaps while documents were given to the jury. She had time to tell him.
Philip would be civilised about it. He’d never raise his voice to her, especially not in a courtroom. But still …
She couldn’t.
Across the court, Raff still watched her.
Finally the court rose. Raff crossed the courtroom and Abby panicked. Don’t say anything.
‘You guys okay?’ he asked, and anyone who didn’t know him would think it was simply a courtesy question. They wouldn’t see that lurking laughter. Trouble.
‘Why wouldn’t we be?’ Philip demanded, irritated. He disliked Raff—of course he did. He showed no outright aggression—simply cool, professional interaction and nothing more.
‘It’s getting close to your wedding,’ Raff said. ‘No last minute nerves? No last minute hitches?’
‘We need to go,’ Abby said, feeling close to hysterics. ‘I have a meeting with the caterers in half an hour.’
‘I bet there’s lots of stuff you need to do.’ Raff’s voice was sympathy itself. ‘Messy things, weddings.’
‘Not ours,’ Philip snapped. ‘Everything’s under control. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?’
‘I … yes.’ Just go away, Raff. Get out of our lives. ‘Are you coming to the caterers with me, Philip?’
‘I can’t.’ Philip turned a shoulder on Raff, excluding him completely. ‘My dad and my uncles are taking me out to dinner and bowling. A boys only night. I thought I told you.’
He had.
‘That sounds exciting,’ Raff said, mildly interested. ‘Bowling, huh. I guess I won’t be untying you naked from in front of the Country Women’s Association clubrooms at dawn, then.’
‘My friends …’
‘Don’t do wild buck’s nights,’ Raff said approvingly. ‘I guessed that. You’ll probably be home in bed by eight. So you’re alone tonight, Abby? Organising caterers on your lonesome. And anything else you need to do.’
‘Could you please …’ she started and then stopped, the impossibility of asking another favour—asking him to bring Kleppy home—overwhelming her.
‘Nope,’ Raff said. ‘Not if you’re about to ask me anything that involves the wedding. Me and weddings keep far away from each other.’
‘We’re not asking you to be involved,’ Philip snapped. ‘Abby can cope with the caterers herself. Ready to go, sweetheart?’
‘Yes,’ she managed and allowed Philip to usher her out of the court.
She should have told Philip then. She had ten minutes while Philip went over the results of the day, what they needed to do to strengthen their case the next morning, a few wedding details he’d forgotten to cover.
Philip was a man at ease with himself. It was only when Raff was around that he got prickly and maybe … well, that did have to do with their past. Raff had messed with Philip’s life as well as hers.
Philip was a good man. He was looking forward to his wedding. His father and his uncles were taking him out for a pre-wedding night with the boys and he’d enjoy it.
She didn’t want to mess with that until she must, even if it did mean delaying telling him about Kleppy; even if it meant going to Raff’s alone. Maybe it’d be better going alone. Going with Philip. It could make things worse.
‘Come round tonight after bowling,’ she told him, kissing him lightly on the lips. Her fiancé. Her husband in nine days. She loved him.
And if he was a bit dull … He’d had his days of being wild, they all had, before life had taught them that caution was good.
‘We should get a good night’s sleep,’ he said.
‘Yes, but there are things we need to discuss.’ He’d like Kleppy when he saw him, she decided. Kleppy of the limpid eyes, wide and brown and innocent.
She should change his name. To Rover? Rover was a Philipish name for a dog.
But Kleppy suited him.
‘What do we need to discuss?’ he was asking.
Say it.
No. Introduce him to Kleppy as a done deal.
‘Just … caterers and things. I don’t want to make too many decisions on my own.’
He smiled and kissed her and she had to stop herself from thinking dry and dusty. ‘You need to have more self-confidence. Make your own decisions. You’re a big girl now.’
‘I … yes.’
‘Anything you decide is fine by me.’
‘But you will drop by?’
‘I’ll drop by. Night, sweetheart.’ And off he went for his night with the boys. His dad and his uncles. Bowling. Yeeha!
And that was the type of thinking that was getting her into trouble, she decided. So cut it out.
Philip