The Way Home Read online

  Table of Contents

  One. Intruders

  Two. Good times

  Three. Push and pull

  Four. The cringe factor

  Five. Okay, it’s not that bad

  Six. Cut loose

  Seven. Heady

  Eight. Perception

  Nine. Rewrites

  Ten. Go, team, go

  Eleven. Head on

  Twelve. Same page

  Thirteen. Good things

  Fourteen. Supersonic

  Fifteen. Picking scabs

  Sixteen. Return to form

  Seventeen. Dance, bitch

  Eighteen. Settled

  Nineteen. Happy day

  The Way Home

  New City Series (Book Two)

  By Stefanie Simpson

  For him, and all the nights we share.

  One. Intruders

  On that unusually hot day in May, as Em sat in the shade of her front porch working, the quiet cul-de-sac was about to be upended.

  Em’s dog, Cap, a beautiful German Shepherd raised her head and yawned, and looked out to the entrance to Gable Place. Em glanced over and saw the heat shimmer.

  “I know girl, too hot by halves.” Em pushed up the wisps of her long dark hair that escaped her messy bun, cracked her neck, and perched her sunglasses on her head. Her large blue-grey eyes squinted into the bright sun beyond, her pale skin was sticky from the heat and sun block, and she’d had enough.

  Em saved her work and set the laptop down, stood and stretched, leaning on the porch rail. The cottages and houses in Gable Place were all different, pretty, and timber-framed with neat little gardens, all perfect and sedate. The view and gentle comings and goings of the Place helped her relax, and she wasn’t so isolated sitting out front.

  One bungalow sat empty, the sold sign stood out against the ordered peace, and as Em opened the cooler, taking water and an ice lolly, Cap panted and whined, still looking at the road.

  “Here you go, sweetie.” Em grabbed a chew stick and tossed it to Cap, she settled down with it in her paws and gnawed at it, eyes on the street.

  A hire van and a car turned into the Place and parked outside the empty bungalow. She absently sat on her comfy bench as the melting lolly dripped onto her fingers, watching in fascination as five men began moving things into the bungalow.

  By the look of them, they were all, or at one time, military, the haircuts, stance, build. One of the guys sat in a wheelchair with his trouser legs tucked under what remained of his thighs. All of them were smiling, except one, who noticed her and turned in her direction. The others followed suit and smiled.

  Well shit.

  She narrowed her eyes at his scowl, put the rest of her ice lolly in her mouth, and pulled the stick out clean. She waved, they waved back.

  It had been a long time since she had flirted with anyone, at least in earnest. Mostly she play flirted with her friends, people that made her feel safe, but these guys were an unknown quantity. It could be fun, it was time, and her friends kept telling her to get the fuck on with her life.

  She should do just that.

  Still, she knew who she was once, and how most people saw her. They way she looked had been part of her identity since she was a teenager, her pin-up air, curved lush figure, tiny waist, and her boobs.

  When she glanced up again, they had gone back to work, carrying boxes and furniture from the van. The guy in the chair was talking to the scowling misery, and he caught her gaze.

  He was tall, really tall, and built. Em did not dig that in a guy. Too big, and she couldn’t defend herself. She couldn’t take him in a fight, even with her training.

  His hair fell about his face easily. Some men would spend hours getting that look, and she bet he barely brushed it. It was hair she could run her hands through for hours, and it was nearly as dark as hers.

  He had a strong jaw, a full wide mouth, brown eyes, and self-important as if he had the biggest problems and the most responsibility of anyone, ever.

  He scowled harder at her, and she beamed at him and having the feeling she irritated him, and not giving two fucks as to why, she wanted to piss him off further. The guy in the chair turned and grinned at her. She nodded her head once in greeting.

  He was more relaxed than the tall one but appeared to have more reason to be an arsehole than tall-dark-and-grumpy. He had dark smooth skin, shaved head, and young.

  She picked up her phone and text Jess, her best friend, of the developments of Gable Place, and stood up. She was getting no more work done.

  She powered down her laptop, turned, put it through the open window onto the desk beneath it, her actual ‘office’, and turned back to pick up the cooler. As she stood up, she felt them watching her.

  In her defence, it was hot that day, sweltering, and she had been wearing pretty much the same thing for two weeks: shorts and vest. She rarely saw anyone because by the time she sat out front, everyone had gone to work, so it never seemed to matter what she wore. That day she sported high-waisted pale blue and white striped shorts that were perhaps a little too short and a low cut fitted navy vest. She looked like a sexy sailor girl.

  She must have given a little show when she put the laptop inside. Well, crap. She carried the cooler inside, leaving them to gape, and she blushed.

  The moving-in had finished when she had herself in order, the door and windows of the bungalow were open, and she heard music drifting. She had an idea, and went inside and into the utility, dragged out a huge unopened box of beer, set a few takeout menus on the top, and hoisted the box up.

  Em was all curves, but beneath it, she was strong. She ran, trained, and took classes. Her overly feminine proportions masked her strength, and she wasn’t afraid of food, but she wanted to be in control of her body, so she made the decisions about it. Her biggest problem were her breasts, you couldn’t help but notice them. They looked fake, considering her small waist, but her hips and arse balanced them.

  Her muscles were tense with the weight of the large box as she carried it out, Cap at her heels as always.

  She peered through the open front door and said hi. The guys stopped talking and turned her way. They all stood, no one spoke or moved, she edged in. Tall-dark-and-miserable scowled his most intense scowl as if the lines in his forehead could repel her, before completely ignoring her, and kept moving boxes around.

  “So, does someone wanna help me out here?”

  “Oh, let me.” A man of average height in his late twenties took the box and grinned, a bright white smile against his tanned skin.

  “Why thank you.” Her mock voice surprise. “Which of you is moving in?”

  “That would be me.” The guy in the chair tilted his head. She put out her hand, and he shook it.

  “Em.”

  “Kevin.”

  “Pleased to meet you. Welcome to Gable Place. The world’s dullest soap opera.”

  “Yeah, it is quiet.”

  “I love it here.” Cap barked. “This is Captain or Cap. She’s the boss, and soft as pudding, but she will take the balls of a man if the need arises.” Em smiled.

  “Duly noted.”

  The miserable shit huffed when he came back in, frowned, glanced at her for a moment and then checked his phone. “Why are you here?” he shook his head.

  She looked him up and down in a slow perusal, she felt his discomfort as she reached his face, finally prying his eyes up to her.

  “Avoiding wankers and arseholes for the most part. But I don’t seem to be doing too well on that score at the moment. Well, I’ll leave you to it.”

  Kevin interrupted the profoundly awkward silence. “Don’t you wanna stay, you brought all this beer.”

  Her smi
le returned. “That is a housewarming gift. I am not going to hang with a bunch of guys that I don’t know and drink beer. I didn’t know if you knew of any places nearby, these menus are the best ones. So, have fun, but there are families here boys, so behave.” She said the last with a laugh and a wink and turned into the laser-intense stare of tall-dark-and-dickhead. He made an incremental movement forward, and something in her lurched.

  It was odd, he was off the charts hot, and he made her uneasy in that all too familiar way that said danger: lust ahead. She stepped back, and her demeanour changed. She became cold and blank; her sensual face, for all its beauty, transformed into the best bitch face, and her defences came up automatically.

  She looked him dead in the eye. “I bet you’re fun at parties.” And without blinking, walked out. She whistled, and Cap followed.

  She heard laughter. That may not have been the best move.

  She went straight inside. Her heart thumped, and she sat down on the floor. Her skin broke out in a sweat, and she took deep breaths. An echo of the past and all that went with it nudged into her thoughts. Cap whined and nuzzled her.

  “It’s okay, baby girl. It’s okay.”

  Em lay for a few moments and then shook it off, waves of nausea and dizziness rolled up as she stood, and took a tepid shower. She wrapped up her hair and put on her short peach and cream silk kimono afterwards, joyfully refreshed in the heat, and calmer.

  It was dinner time, and still so hot. She fed Cap but had little appetite herself. She stuck her head in the fridge for a bit, took a bowl of potato salad and ate it. The door went. She turned expecting to see Jess, who couldn’t resist the allure of hot guys in her street, but no, it was tall-dark-and-I-wish-you-would-fuck-off silhouetted in the glass of her door.

  “What?”

  “You shouldn’t leave your windows wide open like that.” She glanced at her open window.

  “Excuse me, I think you misunderstood, I meant to say what the fuck do you want?”

  He leant back, retreating, and she was almost sorry. Almost. This guy was a dick.

  “It was pointed out to me that I was rude.”

  “Pointed out?” she laughed. “You had no inclination that you’re a dickhead? Wow. That must have been a revelation.”

  He sighed. “You’re not exactly nice.”

  “Nice, nice, no that’s not a concept I’m familiar with. I have no time for wankers. I don’t care if I offend one because they don’t matter to me. I am not going to pretend to be nice to rude, unpleasant men, who think it’s okay to try to intimidate me. So, for the last time before I lose my temper, what do you want?” Cap began to growl behind her. She loved that dog.

  He didn’t speak but regarded her, and his anger deflated. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to be rude or to intimidate you. It’s just the way I am, and you don’t come across well, do you know that? I’d say arrogant and abrasive, actually.” He took a deep breath.

  Em hesitated, yes, she knew she was defensive, but she owed him nothing. “Fine. But you make me uncomfortable.” She was keenly aware that she wore nothing but her robe, and his eyes inevitably dipped to her figure. He turned and left.

  She shut her door and locked it. Gone were the carefree days of leaving doors unlocked and windows open. It had taken her a long time to be able to do that, be lax, not think of her safety, and not be paralysed by fear. She had been lucky here, it had felt so safe, and illusion or not, she chose to believe it because it was the dream she was sold when she bought the cottage. Safe community and social living. She thumped her head back on the door.

  Her cottage had an open plan living room and kitchen, off which was the main bedroom and bathroom. Upstairs were two more rooms, one she had converted into a gym.

  She changed into workout clothes and spent half her workout wrestling herself into her sports bra. In the middle of the room were a mat and a dummy. A punching bag hung near the wall, she had an exercise bike, a cross trainer, and weights set. Cap promptly sat in the bed Em had put in there for her.

  She stretched and did some warm ups, then went on the exercise bike, weights, and then took on the dummy. Poor fucker didn’t stand a chance.

  Two. Good times

  Em woke before six, as always. She went to bed early so that she at least managed a decent night, and it made for a dull life, so unlike her past.

  She was restless in the early morning, and the bed was too hot, and not in the right way. She doubted that would ever happen again. She drank her coffee, fed Cap, and took in the view of the street. Only the one car was over the road. She opened her laptop, checked her mail, and wasted a good hour on nothing. She dressed, set up the cooler, and took up position in her ‘office’.

  It amused her whenever anyone saw her out there, and they’d look at her sideways, not sure why she sat in front of her house. But she enjoyed her morning chat with the postman, and it didn’t hurt he was nice attractive. Poor bugger never knew what to do when he saw her.

  She read what she last wrote, and carried on. Her mind zoned out of the world, and her fingers went to work.

  She’d been there for a few hours when Cap barked. She blinked and saved. Tall-dark-and-oh-no not-you-again stood on one hip.

  “Yes?”

  He opened his mouth to speak, closed it in confusion, and stared at her.

  “Okay, well this is fun, but I’m working, so if you need to say something, say it.”

  “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

  “Right now? Yeah. You're weird. I don’t know what you want from me. I get that you don’t like me, I get that you were forced to apologise, but I don’t understand why you’re here now.”

  “I’m staying with Kevin while he settles in, and adjusts, and he told me I was a prick. I know I was. I am sorry. I explained what you said. He asked me to put it right because, and I quote, ‘I’m not having that pretty lady think we’re arseholes’ so, here I am.”

  She grinned, and he scowled. “He thinks I’m pretty? How sweet.”

  “You interested?”

  “I don’t know him. Is he a good guy?”

  He was about to explode. “One of the nicest.”

  “Cool.”

  “Doesn’t it bother you that he hasn’t got any legs?”

  “I couldn’t give two fucks. Well, I mean, I do, but it doesn’t put me off. How does he feel about white girls?”

  He hesitated with a faint flush, “I wouldn’t know. I didn’t ask.” He looked like a snake set to strike.

  She put the laptop down and leant forward.

  “You seem to have some anger management issues. I do not know what your problem is, but I suggest you stay the fuck away from me and deal with it.”

  “Shit.” He took a breath. “I’m sorry. Really. You’re right. I’ll avoid you.”

  She smiled, a broad, toothy smile with her nose and eyes creasing in feigned joy. “I hope like the plague.”

  He didn’t spare her a glance. She deflated, thinking that if it weren't so warm, she’d go for a run. He unnerved her, but Em couldn’t examine why, so she watched his retreating arse instead, and sighed. If he wasn’t so tall or built, or a complete dick, she might have some fun with him, but he might be decent underneath, and she was a bitch.

  If, if, if. The story of her life these days.

  Friday rolled around. Em had done some housework, mowed the back lawn, and ran the mower over the front, Kevin and tall-dark-and-oh-God-are-you-still-here, watched her from the front door, and Mr Scowly-Pants was leaving for work, whatever that was. She perched her large round sunglasses on her head and jogged over. She wore a cherry print tank and red shorts with matching canvas pumps. Inappropriate for gardening but perfect for a show. As Em went over, she determined to be less noxious.

  “Morning.”

  Kevin grinned. “Coffee?”

  “No, but that’s very kind of you. Seeing as I’m on a roll, can I give you a trim?”

  “Tr
im?”

  “Lawn, do you want me to mow your lawn?”

  “I couldn’t let you do that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…”

  “Let me guess,” her voice took on a darker tone, and then she cocked her head and smiled. She batted her lashes and said in a sweet little princess voice, “Because I am a little girl, and cannot possibly do anything as manly as push a lightweight mower.” She flicked her lashes once more and smiled.

  A smile crept up one side of his face. “I can see that you can, but firstly it wouldn’t be gentlemanly to watch you work, while I sit here and watch, and secondly, I don’t like letting people do things for me.”

  “Let me stop you there. I like gardening and mowing, odd as it sounds, I do. The only reason I’m not doing the neighbours’ is that they don’t need doing, or I’d go and do them, without being asked or offering. The only reason I’m suggesting it now, is that you’re here and if I just randomly starting mowing your lawn, you’ll be all, what the fuck, right? So I’m asking, but if you’re going to be all pissy about it, mow your own lawn. I don’t care.” She smiled warmly and left.

  He didn’t speak, merely bore a blank expression, and she was torn between running in fear of him and wanting to push every button he had. Bad move. She looked down at her crotch and whispered, “bad girl.”

  She put the mower away as Ryan left, and she set about her work with her laptop. Loving the smell of fresh cut grass, she felt at peace as she began to type. She worked the day away, only breaking to eat and walk Cap, though not wanting to go far in the heat. At five, a small car rattled down the Place and parked haphazardly in her drive.

  Jess was a little shorter than Em, but pretty with a dark complexion and entirely alluring. Jess had a holdall that she threw down, and fussed Cap.

  “What are you doing? You’re not even ready.”

  “Sorry, I got carried away.”

  “Are you going to tell me about it?” Jess squinted at Em, who was a little paler than normal.

  “Nope.”

  “Cock womble.”

  “Dick face.” Jess laughed at Em. “What is the plan?” Em shut down her laptop and handed Jess a beer as she asked.