BEFORE

Chapter 25

JESS

I said my goodbyes like an automaton. Mechanical. Stilted. Overly formal.

If anyone noticed, they didn't say. Then again, they could attribute it to my love of the outback and my reluctance to farewell this breathtaking country. Yeah, right.

"Ready to go, Sis?" Reid draped his arm across my shoulder.

"Yeah." I managed to keep my voice steady, glad the numbness that had set in around the time Jack had flung my declaration back in my face had filtered through to my vocal cords.

Even my voice sounded mechanical, almost tinny. It was better than the alternative. A wailing, blubbery mess.

Not that I'd cry again. I'd wasted enough tears on Jack McVeigh. No more.

Never again.

Of course, that's the moment he chose to saunter around the veranda corner, swiping his hands down the front of his apron.

My heart gave a traitorous jolt and when he looked at me, the familiar heat spread through me. Looked like my body hadn't got the memo my head dictated: FIRST CLASS PRICK. DELETE FROM MEMORY.

"Hey, there's Jack." Unfortunately, Reid didn't remove his arm from my shoulder when he all but dragged me across the short distance separating us. "Next time I see you, Jack, I'm expecting the best cordon bleu in Sydney."

"You're on, mate." Jack responded to Reid but it seemed he only had eyes for me. Eyes that I wanted to gouge out.

Reid shook Jack's hand, finally giving me the opportunity to slip out from under his other arm.

"Safe trip, guys." Jack managed a tight smile. "I have to get back to the kitchen."

"Sure thing." Reid did some dorky salute while I managed a mute nod.

I thought I'd got off easily, until Reid said, "Nothing to say, Jess? That's gotta be a first."

What could I say? That I'd fallen in love for the first time in my life...with a complete jackass?

That I'd laid my heart on the line and had it trampled by a bad boy who believed his own badass press?

That I'd been a total fool and even now, couldn't stop from locking gazes with Jack one last time in the hope...what? He'd actually admit to wanting me enough to ask me to stay? He'd apologize for breaking my heart? For belittling what we'd had by implying I was a naive teenager who'd mistaken a vacation crush for something more?

I searched his eyes for some sign, for some indication that I was right and he was wrong. What I saw was sadness and regret.

I knew the feeling.

I swallowed the emotion welling in my throat. "Bye, Cookie. Have a good life."

"Ditto," Jack said, some of the tension around his mouth dissipating when I used my nickname for him.

"Wrong chick flick," I said, wondering if he'd get my reference to that night we spent dancing and watching a corny DVD and being totally in the moment.

"I'd take Ghost over Dirty Dancing any day," he said, some of the usual spark returning to his eyes.

"Not bad, considering they both star Patrick Swayze, but you know you've just admitted to watching two chick flicks?"

"Nothing wrong with being a metrosexual, right, Reid?"

I blinked, surprised to find my brother right next to me, his head swiveling between us as if watching a particularly interesting debate.

Reid laughed. "I'm an action guy so you've lost me." He nudged me. "Time to leave. You can watch all the chick flicks you like on the long flight home."

Hopefully it would take my mind off Jack and how, even now, after all we'd been through, after how much he'd hurt me, it didn't take much for us to revert to our lighthearted, teasing best.

"See you later." With one last, loaded stare in my direction that I had no hope of interpreting, Jack raised his hand in a wave and walked away.

My vow to not cry over him again? Sorely tested, as I said another hurried round of goodbyes to Doreen, Mrs. Gee and Gladys, before sliding into the four-wheel-drive's back seat.

As the car drove away, bumping along the potholed drive, I glanced back.

In time to see Jack pause at the kitchen door and raise his hand.

He couldn't see me at this distance but I did the same, feeling like some lovesick heroine out of a chick flick we both seemed to like, even if one of us—him—wouldn't admit.

Only when the car exited the main gate in a cloud of red dust did I lose sight of Jack and I finally lowered my hand.

As we drove away from Cooweer and I struggled not to bawl, one question plagued me.

What if I'd stayed anyway?

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