Best Friend...Future Wife. Claire Baxter

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Best Friend...Future Wife - Claire  Baxter


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the car, she headed east. Lyn’s parents lived in the same impressive house in the same leafy street in the same prestigious suburb where Lyn and Luke had grown up. A far cry from Della’s own childhood home—not quite a slum, but only one step up.

      Her own parents were blue-collar working class. Occasionally. Most of the time they were lazy slobs, and Della could hardly believe she possessed any of their genes. They’d hated her friendship with Lyn and the ‘big ideas’ it had given her. What was so crazy about going to university and getting a well-paid job? She’d shown them, hadn’t she?

      She sighed. Even now, when they’d gone from her life for good, she still felt she had something to prove—she just didn’t know what.

      As a teenager, she’d spent every spare minute at Lyn’s house. She loved it. It was a happy home. Not just because the Brayfords had money, but because Dawn and Frank Brayford had a genuine interest in their children. And they’d treated her like one of them. She’d had more support and encouragement from the Brayfords than she’d ever had from her folks.

      After parking in the street outside the Brayford family home, Della sat for a moment, gathering her defences. Luke wouldn’t be there yet, so she had nothing to fear. Not that she feared Luke. It was her own emotions that frightened her.

      Thirteen years. Had it really been so long since he’d left Adelaide to take up his dream job? Why hadn’t her feelings diminished in all that time? She’d expected to get over him. She’d intended to. But here she was, thirteen years later, feeling her stomach swish at the prospect of seeing him again.

      It was hard to believe he was coming home to live. Settling down wasn’t in his nature or, at least, it never had been. Maybe this was his wife’s doing, although she hadn’t seemed the type to want Luke’s parents involved in her life.

      Della wondered whether Lyn had got the wrong end of the stick. Or maybe Dawn, in her excitement, had read too much into his words. This was just another visit, surely?

      But then it crossed Della’s mind that he and his wife might be starting a family. The thought twisted her insides. Her stomach tried to squeeze its way into her throat.

      She breathed. Deep, slow breaths.

      In that case, the move was not so difficult to understand. Adelaide was the perfect place to raise a family. And, if it turned out she was right, she’d just have to get on with her life. She could do it, even if it tore her apart inside.

      Calmer, she climbed out of the Mercedes sports car, locking the door, though in this locality it didn’t stand out. Luxury cars were the norm rather than the exception.

      Not prone to whims, she prided herself on carefully considering a financial commitment—any kind of commitment—but the car had taken her by surprise. In an unguarded moment, she’d fallen hopelessly in love. One look, one touch and she’d been hooked.

      With a rueful smile she admitted it had been just the same with Luke, then she straightened her shoulders and turned into the front garden.

      Lyn opened the front door. ‘You should see the kitchen,’ she said with a shake of her head. ‘Mum’s trying to make every one of Luke’s favourite dishes. I know it’ll be great to see him, but honestly…’

      As Della entered the house, Lyn jerked a thumb towards a door off the spacious foyer. ‘Come into the lounge. I’ve made you a drink like I promised.’

      ‘Perhaps I should offer to help Dawn?’ Della flicked an uncertain glance towards the kitchen door.

      ‘Uh-uh.’ Lyn tugged at her arm. ‘She wants to spoil her favourite son, and the best thing we can do is leave her to it.’

      Della allowed Lyn to drag her into the comfortable lounge. As she sat on a sofa, Lyn handed her the biggest margarita she’d ever seen.

      ‘Where did you find this glass? Are you sure it’s not a vase?’

      Lyn shrugged. ‘If it is, it’s one of a matching pair.’ She picked up its mate and took a sip. ‘Mmm. I make a mean margarita.’

      Della sipped and had to agree. Just enough lime to make her tongue curl, and plenty of tequila.

      ‘I know you don’t want to talk about the doc now,’ Lyn said, lowering herself cautiously onto the low sofa opposite, drink in hand. ‘But I want you to know, I’m here for you when you’re ready. Any time. Day or night. I’m usually up with Cassie anyway.’

      ‘I know, and I will talk to you, but I need time to take it in first. What about a night out this week? We can talk and eat.’

      ‘Excellent idea. I’ll check when Patrick can watch the kids. I’ll try for tomorrow night.’ Her face creased with concern. ‘Will that be too soon?’

      Della shook her head. Hopefully, she’d have a few minutes to herself in the next twenty-four hours. Quiet time to think. To accept.

      A wail reached them. ‘Bummer,’ Lyn said with a sigh. ‘Cassie’s awake and right on cue. I hoped she’d sleep through dinner.’

      ‘Where’s Jamie?’

      ‘With Dad in his den, looking at model planes. I’d better go and see to Cassie.’

      Della watched her leave, before placing her drink on an end table and taking the opportunity to nip into the nearest bathroom. Fixing her make-up, she thought for the millionth time that she was lucky to have Lyn as her friend. She’d always felt that way. Ever since the day at the beach when they’d been fourteen and Lyn had come to her rescue, paying for the fish and chips Della had ordered before finding she didn’t have enough money for them. Rigid with embarrassment, she’d stood by while Lyn had stepped in, paid for her order, insisted on buying her a cold drink, and stayed by her side for the rest of the day.

      Della shook her head. That day was as clear to her as if it had happened yesterday. Lyn probably didn’t even remember it.

      Before parting from her new friend, Della had made a careful note of her address, intending to repay her as soon as she could scrape together the money. But, when she’d finally made it, she’d stood at the wrought-iron gate, too scared to press down on the heavy catch.

      Then Luke had arrived. To her, he’d seemed much more than one year older. He had such a physical presence even then. Muscular from playing football. Tall. Of course, it didn’t help that she was such a tiny thing. He’d towered over her and would have scared her if not for his smile. That mind-melting, breath-stealing, knee-weakening smile.

      Della sighed and tossed the make-up into her bag. Emerging from the bathroom, she heard a commotion near the front door.

      ‘It’s a taxi. It’s them!’

      Della recognised the voice as Lyn’s younger sister, Megan. Poppy, the baby of the family at twenty-five, called to her mother and Dawn’s excited voice joined the mix.

      Della didn’t go to them. Time for family. Real family. As inclusive as they’d always been, she wasn’t real family. Back in the lounge, she picked up her glass and made for the French doors which opened to an expansive deck. She leaned on the waist-high balustrade and sipped her drink while gazing down on the established garden. Dense shrubs screened out the neighbours, and low-growing plants packed the curving flower beds. She’d always loved this garden. So different from the weed-infested lawn and corrugated fencing of her parents’ place. She soaked up the sense of peace the garden offered. She needed it more than ever.

      ‘There you are, Shrimp.’

      Della gave a violent start, sending a minor flood of margarita onto the lawn below. Luke’s deep and teasing voice was unmistakeable. It had the same effect on her it always had, making her nerves jump to attention, ready to react to every provocative word he said. She turned.

      Oh God, he looked amazing. The last time she’d seen him, his dark-blond hair had been short, but he’d changed jobs since then and his hair had grown past his collar. More like the young Luke. Casual. She guessed appearances


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