5. Monroe
five
Monroe
Early April
M y feet were dragging, even though I was with my favourite person—my daughter. Three of her four boyfriends—Ezra, Ryder and Flynn—were long-time friends of mine, and I’d gotten to know Tristan well since they’d started dating. They were happy together, and they treated Zali and each other right. I loved seeing Zali, who was a prickly pear much of the time, soften to them. But it wasn’t because she needed to change. It was because they loved one another, and she let her guard down with them. I’d never wanted anything more than for my kids to be happy. Zali had that now.
But no matter how ecstatic I was seeing my daughter finally happy, I wanted to crawl back into bed.
Twenty-six years ago today, I’d become a father. I’d learned what unconditional love was the moment I held him in my arms. I’d witnessed his first gasping breath, and, in that moment, I understood what it meant to be willing to do anything to protect him.
But I’d failed.
I only had thirteen years with Asher.
For those thirteen birthdays, I’d either jumped up or been jumped on at the ass crack of dawn. Asher would launch himself onto the bed, bellyflopping into the gap between Rosa and me, and beg for his surprise breakfast and present.
I’d loved every moment of my time with him.
But I’d taken so much of it for granted. I didn’t have nearly enough photos of those days we’d spent together. I had even fewer of the ones where we were simply enjoying life. I’d gone months without the snap of a single photo, always thinking we had time.
Now the photos, the memories, were all I had.
Asher and Zali were the light of my life.
But Asher’s light had been extinguished.
My world had turned dark.
I wouldn’t have survived without Zali. She was the one thing that kept me going. I’d still needed more than one reminder though. My friend Kristy had dragged me from the darkness more than once. She’d been a constant, reminding me that I still had my baby girl. Even though she’d just lost her husband, too, she’d held me together with her bare hands more than once. I’d repaid the favour when I could, but it never seemed enough.
We’d survived, but even as the years passed, Asher’s birthday never got easier. The sharp stab of pain that stole my breath and had me doubling over in agony had lessened in intensity over the time he’d been gone. But it was still there. It took me by surprise some days. I’d see a new Lego set that he would have loved or a new book or movie, and I’d look for him to tell him. Then I’d remember the day he hadn’t come home and the memories would sucker punch me.
His loss lived inside me as a gaping hole. It was a void of heartache and despair that I would always carry with me.
Nothing could ever fill it.
Now I tried to focus on the happy memories rather than the loss. When I was down, I watched old videos of him giggling. I looked through albums of his baby photos and remembered the curve of his smile or the way his hair fell in his eyes when it got too long. I re-read his favourite books and finished the Lego set he’d been working on when he died. I went fishing in his favourite place with his best friend, and when I wanted to talk to him, I took my tinny to the spot where we’d spread his ashes.
We were honouring Ash today, celebrating his short life. He’d been gone for as long as he’d lived, but we all still felt his presence. Asher was larger than life, and he’d left us with memories that we cherished.
Thanks to Tristan, his story would now be told. Tarnished Crown, Tristan’s podcast, was launching today. Two seasons of ten episodes each were pre-recorded and ready to go.
Tristan pulled at the collar of the Hawaiian shirt all us guys were wearing or at least had been when I’d arrived. Two were tossed haphazardly on deck chairs with towels and another was hooked on the gate of the pool fence. Only Tristan and I were still wearing them. They were uncomfortable and hot, but seeing my daughter’s smile when all her favourite people were wearing the shirts was worth it all.
The shirts were gaudy, the colours clashing and bright. Except for Tristan’s. Somehow, he’d managed to get a black-and-grey one. I raised my chin, gesturing to Tristan as he tugged on the collar again, but I spoke to Ezra. “You’re going to find some extra kindling in the firepit tonight.”
Tristan actually pouted. My best mate laughed and knocked his boyfriend in the shoulder. “Ry won’t let him burn it. He’s always lecturing us about reducing waste.”
“I hear they do wonders with soft plastics recycling these days,” I teased.
Tristan huffed but was biting back a smile, and Ezra grinned shamelessly. They looked up as one, and their smiles grew, turning soft. I knew that smile—Zali put it on their faces. I drained the rest of my beer, the crisp lager cold and refreshing as it went down. I sucked in a breath and closed my eyes, thanking the universe for giving me this moment with them while simultaneously mourning that Ash wasn’t here to see it. He would have loved these guys.
“I wonder where Cara is,” Zali asked.
I was looking forward to meeting Zali’s best friend. I’d heard a lot about her from Zali as well as Tristan and Flynn, but even though they’d known each other for going on eighteen months, we still hadn’t been introduced.
“Right here,” a woman said with a sigh. Just the sound of her voice had tingles running up and down my spine. It was melodious and sweet—gentle, too, but flustered and sad at the same time.
I spun, curious what she looked like. What I saw blew my mind. The young woman had curves for miles. Her legs were thick and her hips wide. Her belly was softly rounded, and her breasts were full and luscious. The floral dress she wore was cinched in under her bust, and it hid none of those delicious curves as it fluttered in the ocean breeze.
I walked toward her, trying to get closer without conscious thought.
But my legs were jelly, and my hands shook. Awareness cascaded through me, and desire curled low in my belly.
That kind of visceral reaction to a person was almost a foreign concept to me now. It had been so long since I’d wanted anyone—my world being upended and so devastatingly shattered had flicked off the switch. It had been coming back in slow increments during the last year or two. I’d noticed a smile here, or the curve of a breast there. Even the protective way Zali’s guys held each other caught my attention. Not even with my wife had I experienced this kind of instant reaction.
This all-encompassing and overwhelming need was baffling.
Bloody hell, I’d never seen a woman as beautiful as her.
She was utterly breathtaking.
I watched her join Zali, and I knew without Zali pre-empting her arrival a moment ago who she was—Cara. My daughter’s newest friend. The sweetheart who’d been kind and gentle with her when she was at her most vulnerable.
I knew Cara was perpetually cheerful and that she was genuine and never had an ulterior motive. She always wanted what was best for Zali.
Cara had sounded wonderful, and I’d heard how beautiful she was. But every description of her had been lacking, including my own. She was… enchanting.
The magic she was weaving held me spellbound.
“Hi. Sorry I’m late,” Cara apologized, her voice wavering. She tilted her rosy lips up in the briefest of smiles aimed squarely at Zali, but it quickly slipped away. Her eyes were red and her cheeks blotchy, and she looked so haunted that my heart broke for her. Zali wrapped her arms around her friend and held tight, not letting Cara go for the longest time.
There was something wrong.
Who had hurt her? Who had stripped that beautiful smile from her?
Anger pulsed within me, a protective streak crackling through me like lightning. I tightened my fingers around my empty bottle and fought off the desire to tear apart the world to find the person who’d upset her.
I breathed deep, trying to force a calm I didn’t feel. I set down my bottle and stepped closer, ready to reach out for her as soon as Zali let her go—though the last thing she needed was some guy going caveman on her.
“Better late than never,” I murmured. Even I could hear the reverence in my voice.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her. My heart was racing, and my mouth was dry. I slicked my bottom lip with my tongue, imagining what it would be like to taste her sweet lips.
I swiped my sweaty palms down my shorts and held my hand out to her.
“Monroe Stevens. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you before.”
“Cara Delaware,” she breathed. A flush stained her cheeks, and her giggle was nervous as she slotted her hand into my outstretched one. Our gazes met and held. I closed my fingers around hers, and the zing that ran through my body was electric. I could get lost in those cognac eyes.
Someone cleared their throat, and the world around me snapped back into focus. Reluctantly, I pulled my hand away, the ghost of her touch lingering on my palm. Cara smiled at me with another quick uptilt of her lips up before Zali wrapped her arm around her friend and guided her to the refrigerator stocked full of drinks.
I swallowed and watched her walk away, her luscious ass filling my vision.
“Wow,” I murmured.
Tristan leaned in and whispered, “She’s smart, sweet, and the sincerest person I’ve met in a long time.”
“She’s also my daughter’s best friend.”
“So? Ezra is yours, and he’s proven it can work.”
I brushed aside the comment, but it played on a loop in my mind for hours. I was distracted, only partly participating in the conversation. I hovered, watching over Cara as she sat quietly with Zali.
They’d been talking for a good hour while I watched, and Cara looked stressed. Her hands were shaking, and she was rubbing her temples as if she had a headache. She’d wiped her tears away more than once. I was antsy. I couldn’t sit still. I needed to check on her and make sure she was okay.
I also needed to check myself. I was turning into a creepy stalker watching her every move.
But that was a problem for future me.
Zali’s and Cara’s drinks were close enough to being empty that I snagged two bottles of chilled water and took them over. My heart was dancing in my chest, my hands shaking with nervous energy as I spoke. “Thought you might need these.”
Cara took a bottle out of my hand and smiled sweetly at me, though her expression was a little sad too. She took my breath away. Just that scrap of attention had me drowning in a sea of desire.
After placing it gently on the table, she stood up and said, “Excuse me. I’ll just use the ladies’.”
We watched her walk away, and I swallowed hard as her hips swayed with each step she took. I wanted to slide my hand up her thigh, to touch the soft skin there, to taste her. I could imagine her splayed out on my bed, breathing hard after she’d screamed my name. My dick was ready to get in on the action, too, obscenely tenting my shorts. I discreetly adjusted myself, hoping that no one saw.
“I’m worried about her, Dad. She’s got a lot going on, and not all of it is good.”
“What can I do to help?” I asked, my voice sounding like I’d swallowed sandpaper. I cleared my throat and hoped for the second time in less than a minute that Zali didn’t notice my reaction to her friend.
“I don’t know.” She sighed, and I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her to me as I tried to reassure her.
We sat quietly for a moment, but I couldn’t sit still. I couldn’t relax. I excused myself, too, and made my way inside. I needed a moment as well. I loved spending time here. The estate had a calmness about it that washed over me whenever I came. Maybe it was the outlook. The Coomera River was at its widest, forming a delta as it flowed into the Broadwater. We were surrounded by a bend in the river and dense clusters of mangrove-covered islands on one side and forest on the other. It was the kind of peaceful you only obtained through buying a multi-million-dollar compound off the beaten track. The sheer scale of this property meant that there were no visible neighbours, and the expansive water views were a soothing balm.
I loved it here, but I was tired too. My emotions had been on a rollercoaster all day. The low that had hit me this morning followed by the high from meeting Cara had played havoc with my body. It sent my mind careening down the cratering drop before spiralling through loop-de-loops.
I went into the living room and looked at the coffee table books stacked haphazardly on the lamp table. They were random titles—myths of Atlantis, shark species, and a cookbook. They were Ry’s, no doubt, as his interests were eclectic and varied.
It was pure coincidence that Cara had headed this way too.
Or at least I’d keep telling myself that.
The door behind me closed, and the warmth of her stare lit me up inside. I watched her reflection on the darkened television as her gaze lingered on my ass.
When I turned, she startled, and any self-satisfaction I got from her ogling fled.
She’d been crying again, harder since she’d left Zali’s side. Her cheeks were a splotchy pink, and her eyes were bloodshot. She sucked in a wobbly breath, and the flush in her cheeks deepened, crawling down her throat to the neckline of her dress.
“Hi-llo,” she stumbled and squeaked out an embarrassed noise. “I mean hi, hello, Mr Stevens.”
“Call me Monroe or Roe. Everyone does.” I stepped closer, and she flashed me a shy smile.
“Okay.” She gestured with a thumb over her shoulder back down the hallway into the bathroom. “I should….”
She spun on her toes, but before she could take a step, I called out, “Wait.” I had no idea what to say, but I knew I didn’t want her to leave.
I was moving before I could think, my legs carrying me to her. I touched her elbow and turned her around, then I brushed the backs of my fingers over her cheek.
“What happened?” I asked quietly.
She hiccupped, a cute little hitch in her breath, and her hand flew to her mouth. Cara turned a deeper shade of pink, and I caressed her cheek with my thumb again. I wanted to follow that flush with my tongue. Instead, I bit back my groan at how soft her skin was. How flawless.
I loved how responsive and utterly charming she was.
Her chest rose as she sucked in a breath. Wide-eyed, she shook her head. I couldn’t help how my gaze dropped, watching as her breasts pressed tight against the material of her dress. I wanted to strip her out of it and see them naked. I wanted to bury my face between them and breathe in her scent.
But I could be more of a gentleman than that.
When she didn’t answer, I swallowed down my disappointment and asked in a rough voice, “Would you like to dance? Maybe we can make each other’s days a little brighter.”
Cara stilled. She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut again before flicking her eyes sideways, looking outside. She didn’t answer for a long moment, and my gut sank.
She was going to shoot me down.
I didn’t have a chance. And why would I? She was young, gorgeous and smart. I was old and washed-up.
Disappointment crashed into me, and I looked away, ready to paste on an it's-no-big-deal smile and walk away.
“Y-yes,” she whispered.
My heart stopped. My eyes snapped back up to hers, and she was standing right there, biting her bottom lip and nodding, her cheeks a rosy pink.
She spoke again, her words falling out of her and speeding up like a snowball gathering speed down a mountain. “I’d love to. I mean, I’m not very good, and I’ll probably stand on your foot, but….” She sucked in a breath and held it, then said, “Yes.”
I held my hand out, and Cara slipped her smaller one into mine. Her fingers were cool and her touch tentative. I led her into the expansive living room. The sound system was one of those fancy one-touch ones, but I had no idea how to change the music, only how to turn it on and off. I held my breath, hoping it wasn’t terrible, and choked out a relieved laugh when the unmistakeable strains of “Something” by The Beatles started.
“Oh, thank God.” I huffed and dropped the tablet back on the couch.
Taking her into my arms was like coming home. I pulled her closer than was proper, but I couldn’t help it. I was almost beside myself with a desperation to have her pressed against me. I wanted to feel those soft curves under my palm and against my body. I swayed gently with her, letting her get comfortable.
“Tristan and I were listening to music while we were checking over the script for the movie,” she explained, blushing prettily. Cara seemed to be fighting her smile, but all that sweetness needed an outlet, and she batted her eyelashes. “The Beatles are my favourite.”
“They are? You’re young. I’m surprised you even know who they are.”
“Mum loves music, especially the classics. She always says that your life is enriched with it, so I grew up on everything from Elvis to Elton John and Metallica to Michael Jackson. As long as it was before 2000, we listened to it.”
“What happened after 2000?” I asked, a delighted grin in place. I loved that she was opening up, telling me a bit about herself.
“You don’t know?” The smile she wore slipped off and she became serious, blinking at me with owl-eyes. “Music died.”
I barked out a laugh, and she grinned again, a snort-laugh escaping her. She turned beet red and let go of my arm to press her hand against her mouth before closing her eyes and shaking her head. Her shoulders fell, and it was as if she was telling herself off. I didn’t want that at all.
“Surely there’s at least one song that could save it?” I joked, trying to bring her back.
Her fingers parted and she looked at me through them before nodding. “Mum—” Cara shrugged and dropped her hand back to my bicep before she rolled her eyes. “Well, let’s just say it’s not worth arguing with Mum. What about you? Do you like music?”
“I’m an eighties man. I grew up in the days of hair bands and glam metal, but I’ll listen to almost anything. And yeah, I grew up a bit like you too—my parents loved music from the fifties, so we always had the radio on. Of course, back in my day, we didn’t have television, and we walked twenty-seven miles each way to school—”
Cara’s giggle was sweet and sexy at the same time. She was an adorable mix of shy and bursting with sunshine that instantly drew me to her. The sadness in her gaze was still there, but her laugh was genuine. She was having fun right now.
“Something” changed to “I Saw Her Standing There”, and as the beat sped up, I held my arm up and stepped back so Cara could twirl around. She giggled again and turned, ducking back into my arms.
I pulled her close again and sucked in a breath when her body connected with mine. I resisted the temptation to look down at myself—barely—and blinked, processing the reaction my body was having.
I was hard.
As steel, in fact.
Fuck me. Fuck. Me. No, seriously, fuck me!
My head swam and my vision blurred as I let out a harsh breath and inhaled deeply again, taking her soft perfume into my lungs. My balls throbbed, and I closed my eyes as a shiver worked its way from my tailbone through my whole body.
Desire flooded me, and I basked in the overwhelming need coursing through my veins. My cock had been largely on hiatus for a decade. I used to love sex. I loved the way I could make my wife shake and scream through her ecstasy. But grief over her loss had rendered me a shell. I still jacked off, but there was no heat behind it, no urgency to get off. It was a performative function that I carried out because my balls demanded draining every now and then. It was nothing more than a physical relief.
But in under five minutes, my body had done a one-eighty and my sex drive was back online. I was raring to go. My balls were already drawn up tight, every fibre in my underwear cupping and rubbing my sensitive shaft and sac. Jesus, if I didn’t do something, I was going to come in my pants like a fucking teenager. I tilted my hips back, defying every demand of my body. I separated us just a little to save myself from embarrassment.
Cara looked up at me. Her lips were still stretched into a smile, but it had changed. The flush that accompanied it looked like embarrassment, but her blown pupils told me that perhaps she was suffering like I was.
Time to reel it in before I did something that I’d regret.
Like lift her into my arms, carry her upstairs, and make a meal out of her body.
I cleared my throat and playfully pinched her chin. “Not that I want to bring the mood down, but why haven’t I seen this beautiful smile all day?”
“Urgh,” she grumbled, her smile slipping. Shit. “Everything is going wrong. I mean, not here. Here is great. But everything at home and work is… not great.”
“I thought you worked for Tristan.”
“I graduated a couple of months ago. The podcast has been recorded and the screenplay has been handed back to the writers, so I needed something closer to full time. My rent is expensive, and my car needed repairs, so I got a job with Dad.”
“Do you work for him or just at the same place?”
“He’s the CEO, so yeah, I work for him, but I make it a point not to go into his office nowadays.”
“O-kay,” I said, stretching out the word.
She huffed, and her eyes filled with hurt. Every protective instinct in me flared, and I pulled her closer, ignoring the way my cock was tenting my shorts. Was it her dad who’d hurt her? My anger was irrational, but it didn’t make it any less real. I wanted to tear him a new one.
“I caught him cheating on my mum. Literally in the middle of it.” She shuddered, and her lips pursed in distaste. “I now know what my dad’s orgasm face looks like.”
“Oh, jeez,” I sympathized, trying not to laugh at her look of mortified disgust. “That had to be rough… and disturbing.”
“Right?” she exclaimed, lifting her hand before resting it once again on my bicep and rubbing the spot gently.
My concentration whited out, my mind blanking as every one of my nerve endings flared, sending heat through me at her appreciative touch.
“It was an ordinary day at work, then I find my dad doing it with someone in his office. I had to tell Mum—I couldn’t very well keep it a secret from her—and everything has gone wrong ever since.”
My amusement fled and I drew her closer, trying to soothe her and bring that smile back.
Tears filled her eyes, and she kept speaking, her words flying out at a mile a minute. “They’re headed for a divorce. I don’t blame Mum for wanting one, but I feel responsible because I’m the one who caught Dad. He and I were supposed to go on tour with the Seals when they come here next month. But I don’t want to even see him now. I told him that, and he’s been good about it, but it’s also bad because he pulled out of the tour. He said everything is uncertain, so I think that means he wants to work on his relationship with Mum. But I’m not sure, and his deciding not to go leaves me stuck because I need to find someone to go with me and help with sponsor stuff—”
“Cara, breathe for me.”
She kept going, my words not even registering as her tears fell. “I’m just the office junior. I shouldn’t even be going, but Dad knows how much I love—”
“Cara, sweetheart.” I tilted her chin up and cupped her face in my hands, leaning into her. She focussed on me, and I smiled encouragingly. “Deep breath in.”
She sucked in oxygen, and her shoulders slumped, a tear tracking down her cheek. It broke my heart.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’ve just gone and dumped all that on you.”
“Hey, I’m glad you did.”
She raised her brow in question, and I forced a grin, trying to lighten the mood. I slid one hand down her arm and interlaced our fingers. Then I rested my other on her waist. I followed the dips and curves of her soft rolls with my fingers and pulled her close.
I nuzzled my nose against hers and said, “If we’re talking fucked-up families, mine still wins hands down.”
Cara giggled but slapped her hand over her mouth, stopping her laugh in its tracks. There was no doubt that my family was fucked-up. Our history was literally being made into a podcast and a direct-to-Amazon movie.
But Cara was too sweet, and I knew she’d feel bad for laughing about it, especially if she thought it might offend me. But that was something she need not worry about—Zali and I were tight. Her men and I were mates. Those were the only things that mattered to me nowadays.
But I did appreciate her confiding in me after having just met me. We’d only been speaking for a few minutes now, and yet here she was, in my arms, telling me important information. I needed to show her how much I appreciated it. “I’m grateful you told me.” I paused and after a moment added, “But I have questions.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Where are the seals and why are you sponsoring them? Is it some kind of environmental thing? Is that what the tour is? Are you going to see their habitat?”
Cara furrowed her brows and cocked her head before her expression lifted and she giggled. “No, Seals with a capital ‘S’. As in the NHL team, the San Diego Seals? They’re doing a tour of the East Coast and Adelaide—”
“With the LA Kings,” I breathed. I’d tried to get tickets to the games—I was happy to go to any of the three cities they were playing in—but tickets were sold out within minutes, and I’d missed out. And Cara was travelling with the team as a sponsor? But that meant—
Cara saw the moment that understanding dawned, and she explained, “Dad’s the CEO of Delaware’s Warehouse. Mum heads up the acquisitions team.”
“Wow,” I started and shook my head. “Wow.”
“I love ice hockey. I watch every game I can. The sponsorship opportunity was one that I couldn’t let Dad pass up.” She barely paused for a breath before continuing full speed ahead. “It’s a chance to get us Aussies to think of Delaware’s when they think of hockey. NHL is huge in the States and Canada, and the first pre-season games hosted in Melbourne went so well that they wanted to bring it back here. Dad’s sponsorship offer was accepted, and he and I were supposed to tour with the team, getting hands-on experience with them. Now he’s saying he wants me to do it.” She croaked out on the last word as if she’d run out of breath, but then Cara just barrelled on, adding, “What if I screw up? What if I can’t help them the way they need, or if I say no to something and they’re upset, or worse, if I say yes, and it’s a horrible idea to say yes? My decisions might spell disaster for the whole thing. I persuaded Dad to sponsor this deal. It cost him millions, and now it might not work.”
“Hey,” I cooed. “Surely your dad wouldn’t have signed off on the deal without having checked everything first. I’m sure that it stacked up, and that’s why he’s invested his money in it.”
“Yes, but he did it to please me.” She turned thoughtful at that, furrowing her brow and biting down on her lip. “Dad doesn’t do anything because I want him to. He’s determined I’ll stand on my own two feet. He didn’t even give me an allowance when I was at uni. I had to get a job to pay for my rent and textbooks.”
“See?” I reassured her, bringing her hand to my lips. I brushed a soft kiss over her delicate fingers and added, “Even if you suggested it to him, he wouldn’t have thrown money at it without at least satisfying himself that it was worthwhile, especially not millions of dollars. Don’t take on that guilt. It’s not yours to carry.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “But that’s not all. I need help when we’re touring. My contact at the Seals has sent me a list of things the team has asked for, but they might have a newer list as long as my arm by the time they get here. If I can’t do it all myself, it’s going to be an unmitigated disaster, and Dad’s just left it all to me. I’m so stressed, and I don’t have anyone to ask to come with me.”
“Ask me,” I dared to say. “I have holiday time I can take, and it’s starting to get quieter at the marina as the weather cools. They’ll be happy to have fewer bodies on board.”
“I couldn’t do that,” Cara replied, a flush staining her cheeks a pretty pink. “I can’t drag you away from work for two weeks.”
“I’m offering. I love watching sport, any sport—ask Ezra. We watch hundreds of hours of AFL, rugby league, tennis, cricket, anything, every year. I tried to get tickets to the hockey games, but they were all sold out. This would be a dream come true for me.”
Her face fell but she quickly hid it with a forced smile—the one that didn’t reach her eyes—and I knew I’d said the wrong thing. Or maybe not the wrong thing, just not everything that she needed to hear.
“And more importantly, I’d love to spend more time with you,” I added as sincerely as I could. She wasn’t a consolation prize for me. The hockey was a bonus, but two weeks getting to know Cara? That was the real drawcard, one my dick very much approved of.
She looked down, and her flush spread to her ears and down her throat to the neckline of her dress. I wondered how much lower it would go.
“I’d love you to.”
I couldn’t help the smile that split my lips. This was better than my team winning the grand final with a miracle try. This was ticker-tape-parade worthy. My insides were dancing, and I was vibrating with excitement. I hadn’t felt so alive in a decade.
And it was all because I had a chance to spend more time with the gorgeous woman in my arms.