Her Kind of Trouble. Sarah Mayberry

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Her Kind of Trouble - Sarah  Mayberry


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be a reliable substitute for Jodie should the worst happen?

      Jason frowned. “She loves the kids. When she was in L.A. she spoke to them once a week on Skype, never fail. And since she’s been back she’s been making up for lost time with them.”

      “Right. Until the next shiny, bright thing comes along,” Seth said.

      “Viv’s not like that anymore. She’s grown up,” Jason said.

      “You need to know that whoever you choose is rock-solid. Utterly reliable. Take it from someone who is dealing with a flaky, unreliable woman every day, it’s a nightmare and you don’t want to be exposing your kids to that kind of uncertainty.” Seth could hear the vehemence in his own tone, but he wasn’t about to apologize for it. This was important.

      “I take it you’re having some issues with Lola?” Jason said carefully.

      “Yes. Just a few.” It was tempting to spill his guts, but this wasn’t about him and Lola. This was about Sam and Max and doing what was best for them.

      “You have my sympathy, but Viv isn’t Lola. How many times have you even been in the same room as Viv over the years anyway? A dozen?”

      “Enough to know what I’m talking about.” Enough to know that he knew and understood Vivian far better than Jason ever would. He’d never told his brother about the night of the wedding and those mind-blowing minutes in the limo, and he wasn’t about to now. But as far as he was concerned, that night was the perfect illustration of his worries. Vivian had been having a good time, and she hadn’t stopped for a second to think about what the repercussions of her—their—actions might be. She’d just stripped off her dress and climbed on top because it felt good. From what he’d heard and seen over the years, doing what felt good was her life philosophy. Which was great if you were looking for a hot encounter in the back of a limo, but not so great when you were talking about ferrying kids to soccer practice and worrying about fevers at one o’clock in the morning.

      In the back of his head, a voice piped up, pointing out that he’d done all those things in the back of the limo, too, and that he’d pretty much thumbed his nose at convention all his life, lived recklessly, done all the things he’d just accused Vivian of doing, and then some. He ignored it, driven by the anxiety tightening his chest. He couldn’t do anything to alter the situation he was in with Lola, but his brother could definitely dodge this bullet.

      He realized that almost every muscle in his body was tense and that he’d shifted to the edge of the chair. The need to reach across the desk and grab his brother by the lapels and shake him until he saw sense was almost impossible to resist.

      “I appreciate your concern, but Jodie and I are pretty settled on this,” Jason said evenly.

      “Then maybe you need to talk some more. Really think about it.”

      “We have thought about it. A lot. That’s why I’m here.” There was a steely note beneath his brother’s words. Despite his calmness, Seth had rattled him.

      Good.

      It was tempting to push harder, to drive home his point further, but there was a look in his brother’s eyes that told him it was time to back off. He’d issued his warning in the strongest terms possible, done his best to alert his brother to the danger he was courting. The rest was up to him and Jodie.

      “As long as you guys are going in with your eyes open. It’s your decision,” Seth said carefully.

      “Yeah, it is. Our lawyer will draw up some papers. I’ll get them to you as soon as possible so we can get this wrapped up.”

      “Let me know what you need me to do or whatever and I’ll make it happen.”

      There was weird vibe in the room. Jason was pissed with him. Well, so be it. If someone had tapped him on the shoulder nine months ago and told him how things were going to pan out with Lola, he would have set a new land-speed record bolting in the other direction. He’d simply given his brother good advice. He wasn’t going to apologize for that fact.

      “You want another beer?” he asked.

      “Actually, I should probably head home so I can help get the kids into the bath,” Jason said.

      “Sure.”

      He walked his brother downstairs and through the bar, following him out to the street. They exchanged a little more small talk before Jason headed for the tram stop on the main street.

      Seth stood watching him walk away. Then he went inside to prepare for a busy night.

      CHAPTER THREE

      “WHY DON’T YOU two walking, talking menaces take it outside for five seconds while your mum and I make the magic happen?” Vivian said.

      Her two nephews skidded to a halt halfway through their fourth lap of the kitchen island. They’d been circling her and Jodie like electrons around the nucleus of an atom for nearly half an hour now, fueled by excitement and too many gummy snakes in the lead up to Sam’s birthday party this afternoon.

      “Are we getting in the way?” Max asked.

      “What do you think?” Jodie asked.

      “I think we are being superannoying,” Max said, giving his brother a high five.

      Vivian tried and failed to hide her amusement.

      “Please don’t encourage them. They already think they’re a comedy duo.” Jodie walked to the sliding door and pulled it open. “Outside. Now.”

      Sam and Max moaned and groaned but they did as instructed, trudging across the lawn to the play equipment in the corner of the yard as though they’d been sentenced to life imprisonment.

      “Poor babies,” Vivian said.

      “Oh, yes, their lives are blighted. It’s a wonder they can smile, let alone laugh.” Jodie rolled her eyes.

      They resumed work on the salads. Jodie mentioned that she’d caught up with Nell, one of her bridesmaids, the other day, and Vivian heard the CliffsNotes version of the other woman’s divorce. They talked about various school friends as they finished the prep work for the party, then Jason came inside from cleaning the barbecue, covered in black gunk and rust, and Jodie herded him into the laundry room to clean up. Listening to them bicker companionably and watching her nephews race up and down the climbing frame outside, a warm sense of belonging stole over Vivian.

      She had loved every second of her time overseas, but there was no denying that it was good to be back. There was something about the clear, far-off blue of the Australian sky and the faint hint of eucalyptus that wafted through even the most suburban of streets on a sunny day and the flat, familiar drawl of the Australian accent that eased a pressure inside her that she hadn’t even known needed comforting. Put simply, this was home, where she belonged, and it felt right and good to be here at this stage in her life.

      Her small moment of introspection was broken by the arrival of her parents, loaded down with yet more food and presents for her nephew. The other guests poured in after that, and it wasn’t long before the house and yard were alive with the sound of children playing and adults talking and laughing. Vivian did her best to be useful, circulating with platters of finger food and keeping one eye on the horde of children rampaging around the yard. She was, however, very aware of the fact that her gaze kept darting to the door every time a new guest arrived, and after catching herself doing it for the fifth time she admitted she was waiting for Seth.

      It wasn’t a comfortable admission, given their history, but there was no point denying the truth. From the first moment she’d laid eyes on him she’d been aware of him—drawn to him—and apparently time, experience and maturity hadn’t changed that fact. Regardless of whatever else had been going on in her life, she’d always enjoyed matching wits with him at the family events they’d both attended.

      That didn’t mean that she wasn’t fully aware of his many, many shortcomings,


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