Part 29 (1/2)
He began talking marriage almost immediately but Mel wasn't sufficiently softened by pregnancy to go that far yet and Joelle, in principle, agreed. *Marry in haste, repent at leisure' sprang to mind.
Not that she knew anything about it.
A proposal would not be coming Joelle's way in the near future that was for sure. Even her new brother didn't want to talk to her. She hadn't heard a peep out of him for over a month-not since their trip to Birrigai. His parents were another matter. Amy phoned regularly but she'd been quiet recently. In her last call she'd said the proposed job swap had fallen through.
Joelle didn't know whether to be pleased Shay would be in Sydney for longer or sad that he hadn't bothered to pa.s.s the news on to her himself.
Mel stood up. ”I have to pee,” she said and went inside. The phone rang. ”I'll get it,” she called.
”Is it all right for Mel to stay with you until I get back?” asked Luke.
”Of course it is. She's my sister.” Mel's voice was too m.u.f.fled for Joelle to catch any clue as to who had rung.
”I'm sorry to keep asking but I feel she's my responsibility now. Both of them.”
”Luke,” said Joelle. ”Shut up.”
”And thanks for letting me stay too. I won't be here much longer ...”
”Luke!” Joelle glared at him and he grinned.
”Sorry. I'm not used to being made welcome, I guess.”
”Why not?”
”The way I look?” He shrugged. ”My parents didn't care much one way or the other about us kids. You guys are lucky.”
”Yes.” Supremely lucky.
”I really want to do the right thing by Mel, Jo,” he said earnestly. ”I love her.”
”I know you do. She's changed a lot lately. She really wants this baby. I wasn't sure at first but now...”
Mel stood in the doorway. Joelle stopped quickly before the inevitable, angry *Were you talking about me?'
”Who was on the phone?”
”Shay. I invited him for dinner.”
”What?” Joelle jerked upright.
”He'll be here in ten minutes.”
”What?” Paralysis set in.
”Your brother?” asked Luke. ”Cool. I've been wanting to meet him.”
”He said he has some news but he wouldn't tell me what.” Mel stepped out of the way as Joelle launched herself off her chair as though ejecting from a plunging aircraft.
”Why didn't you call me?” she demanded as she charged into the living room. Mel followed.
”He didn't want to talk to you. Well, he does but not on the phone.” Joelle's infuriating little sister eyed her curiously. ”He'll be here in a minute. Calm down.”
”I am calm.” Joelle raced to her bedroom and studied herself in the mirror. What a mess.
”No you're not; you're flapping about like a headless chook.”
”I am not!”
Mel rolled her eyes and withdrew, shaking her head. ”Good thing we've done plenty of spag bol sauce. I'll make the salad, shall I? And start the pasta water?”
”Yes,” yelled Joelle from under her t-s.h.i.+rt as she wrenched it over her head. She flung the cupboard doors open and stared blindly at the contents. Why was he coming here with hardly any notice? What news? About Emily? It must be. What else did they have in common?
Joelle slumped on to the bed holding a white blouse in her hand. That was the problem-it must be. They had nothing in common beyond their parentage. She couldn't expect Shay to be fascinated by her life and to call her all the time. Why would he be interested in a florist's business any more than she was interested in his patients? Absolutely nothing kept them together. Siblings were like that.
Look at her sisters. They didn't live in each other's pockets and when Mel moved in with Luke they'd create their own life too. Why should her relations.h.i.+p with Shay be any different?
She had to get over this ridiculous and debilitating infatuation and when he arrived tonight, she must treat him no differently to Luke.
Joelle pushed her arms through the sleeves of the blouse and fastened the small pearl b.u.t.tons. She stood up and tucked the bottom into her jeans, ran a brush through her hair and touched lipstick to her mouth. Then she wiped it off with a frown. She never wore lipstick at home. Shay was her brother. Get a grip!
When she entered the kitchen Mel had finished making a big bowl of green salad and Luke had cleared the table. The pasta was already in a big saucepan of bubbling water.
”Shall I make garlic bread?” asked Joelle brightly.
”Yes. Love some,” said Luke. ”Put plenty of garlic.”
Joelle busied herself with bread, b.u.t.ter and the garlic crusher. Mel set the table.
”I haven't seen Shay for ages,” she said happily. ”He's going to be surprised when he sees the b.u.mp.”
”The guy's a doctor, Mel. He's sure to have seen a preggers lady before,” said Luke. ”Another gla.s.s of vino, Joelle?”
”Yes, please.” Dutch courage.
The doorbell rang. Joelle froze. Her hands were in the garlic, all stinky and messy. ”Get it, someone,” she said weakly. She bent her head low so they didn't see the flush on her cheeks.
”Sure.” Luke strode to the door.
Then he was there, smiling in through the kitchen doorway as handsome and desirable as ever with those gorgeous brown eyes and that little quirk to his lips. As unattainable as ever. Untouchable.
”h.e.l.lo.” He walked forward and kissed her cheek.
”Hi. I'm all garlicky.”
Joelle held her hands up and grimaced to cover the violence of the trembling his touch had ignited. He didn't look at her messy hands, he didn't look at anything but her eyes. He invaded her. She looked away with cheeks burning and p.r.i.c.kly sweat itching all over like crawling ants.
”Hi Shay.” Mel darted around the bench to hug him and bestow a kiss on his cheek. ”Look at me. Meet the b.u.mp.”
Shay grinned as he stepped back to admire the bulge. ”Looking good. How are you?”