Ryan's Rules

‘Stop soft-peddling round the facts,’ he muttered. ‘She’s spent the last fifteen years like a mouse on a treadmill: going through the motions of life without living it! Now this comes from right out of the blue.’ He thumped the steering wheel. ‘Wham! Six weeks ago, she was commemorating Steve’s death with her annual pilgrimage to Kiama and today she announces she’s flying to Europe.’ He shook his head. ‘Believe me, much as I’d like to be able to relax and feel good about her breaking out of her rut, the truth is, I can’t.’

Having braked at a red light, he looked across at her, the rhythmic flashing of a nearby neon sign alternately highlighting and disguising the concern in his face. What had started out as an angry outburst ended in weariness. ‘You’re as uncomfortable about this as I am. So don’t sit there telling me what you think I want to hear.’

‘I’m not,’ she insisted. ‘I’m really thrilled she’s decided to…to get her act together. Everyone’s been praying she’d do it for years and now, finally, it’s happened. It’s a good thing and we—’ She stopped under his disbelieving glare.

‘Oh, OK! OK!’ She sighed. ‘I admit a tiny part of me is worried because, like you said, this came from out of the blue. But there’s a difference between saying you’re going to do something and actually doing it. You’re worried Jayne hasn’t thought things through; I’m worried she might start, that she’ll begin wondering if she’s acted too hastily and back out.’

His frown prompted her to add, ‘A person who makes up their mind quickly can change it just as fast. If Jayne senses we have doubts about her decision, she’ll have doubts. So I think it’s important we don’t reinforce the negatives in this. The bottom line is that she needs to do this; why she’s decided to shouldn’t be an issue.’

There were a few seconds of silence as Ryan obviously mulled over what she’d said, then he turned a bemused smile in her direction.

‘You know, K.C., you surprise me at times. That’s a very astute observation.’

The praise had been too patronisingly bestowed for her to accept it graciously. ‘Well, you know what they say—out of the mouths of children…’

His grin did things to her insides that she both loved and hated. ‘Actually it’s out of the mouths of babes.’

‘I know.’ She gave him a sickly sweet smile. ‘But I hate being called a babe. Besides, I’m trying to wean you off the image of me with a teething ring.’

‘You could try wearing a muzzle,’ he suggested. ‘You’d not only present an alternative image but I’d stop worrying that you were going to bite my head off every time you misconstrued an innocent remark.’

‘You know, Ryan, this will probably be beyond the realms of your imagination…but there are some men who find the idea of me sinking my teeth into them very appealing!’

A wave of nostalgia swept through K.C. as the car swung into the driveway of the house which had been so much her second home in her teenage years that when people had asked for her phone number she’d given them the Talbots’ as well. However, in the five years since Ryan had bought the house from his parents, when, like hers, they’d retired to Victoria, she’d made only a handful of visits and never stayed more than a few hours. For the next three weeks at least, this would be where she was staying.

‘What’s up?’

She smiled in response to Ryan’s curious stare. ‘Nothing. I was just thinking how everything looks exactly as I remember. I always expected you to do some kind of renovations.’

‘Why?’ He frowned. ‘What’s wrong with the house?’ ‘Well, nothing! It’s…it’s just that I’d expect, you having been an architect and having access to building equipment at cost, you’d be tempted to make changes.’ She smiled. ‘I mean, I love the little house I’ve bought, but boy, if I had the money I’d really do something with it! You, however, do have the money.’

He raised an eyebrow.

‘Oh, stop looking like that,’ she chided him. ‘All I ever hear from Mum is how incredibly successful you are and how you’ve quadrupled the company’s profits since taking over from your father.’

‘Claire exaggerates,’ he said.

‘Claimed he, sitting behind the wheel of the latestmodel Jaguar,’ she responded drily.

He grinned. ‘I didn’t think you’d noticed.’

‘Not a chance!’ She laughed, letting her fingers caress the dashboard and no longer bothering to hide her appreciation of the vehicle. ‘So…do I get to drive her while I’m here?’

‘Like you said…not a chance. I’ve seen you drive, K.C.’

‘Huh! You’re the one who taught me.’

‘Don’t remind me. Jayne said you can use her car while she’s away.’

The reference to his sister caused her to glance across to the house. ‘You know, Ryan, maybe now that Jayne’s finally putting Steven’s death behind her it’ll let the rest of us do the same.’ She looked back at the man who had been her late brother’s best friend and almost his brother-in-law.

His gaze narrowed. ‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning maybe now someone will tell me all the facts surrounding the night he was killed.’

‘K.C.—’

‘No,’ she said, raising a hand to stop his words. ‘I know the things that happened after he was killed: about Jayne’s phantom pregnancy and her subsequent breakdown. I even think the real reason you’ve never let me drive one of your cars is because Steve was driving yours when he was killed.’

He tensed noticeably at her words and reached for the doorhandle. ‘Don’t go formulating a lot of half-baked ideas about something that happened when you were nine. Let it go, K.C. It looks like Jayne finally has.’

‘Have you?’

It wasn’t until he wrenched open the driver’s door and activated the car’s interior light that his irritation was visible.

‘I don’t know what kind of fantasies exist in that overimaginative mind of yours, but keep them to yourself! I don’t want Jayne upset.’

‘Is that the reason why, when your parents wanted to sell this house and Jayne didn’t want to move, you bought it?’ Without answering, Ryan got out of the car and slammed the door shut. ‘I’m right, aren’t I?’ she persisted as she, too, climbed from the car. ‘That’s why you haven’t done any alterations to it, because you didn’t want to do anything that might upset Jayne.’

His jaw tightened as if he was clenching his teeth. ‘I thought out-of-work actors waited tables and drove taxis. I had no idea they dabbled in psychoanalysis.’

‘You know me,’ she said, shrugging. ‘I’ll try anything once. As a matter of fact I’m looking forward to doing the accounts for Talbot’s.’

Moving to the open boot, he grunted, ‘That makes one of us.’

‘Ryan?’ she said, coming around to lean against the boot of the car as he removed her luggage. ‘There’s one thing I’ve never been able to understand…’

‘How to quit while you’re ahead?’ he suggested.

‘Why you gave up a partnership in one of Sydney’s most prestigious architectural firms to take over running a building-supply business? I mean, all you ever wanted to be was an architect; you graduated top of your class from university—’

‘Well, of course you don’t understand that, K.C.!’ He slammed the boot closed. ‘The reason is based in responsibility—family responsibility! Our fathers and Steven worked damned hard to build up the business and I for one had no intention of watching their efforts ruined at the hands of outsiders out to make a quick buck.’

‘So you don’t miss architecture?’

‘At the moment all I’m missing is the peace and quiet that existed before I picked you up at the airport. Now, will you just shut up and let me get these bags inside so I can go hunt up the Prozac I got last time you were here?’

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_d725de11-c073-51d2-9996-4c33d4665d04)

ON SUNDAY Kirrily was again at Mascot airport; this time, though, she was in the International terminal watching Jayne’s plane roll down the runway. Fighting to keep her emotions in check, and unsure how much longer rapid blinking would continue to keep tears at bay, she slipped her sunglasses from the top of her head down onto her nose. The action drew the attention of Ryan, standing beside her.

‘You want to go?’ he asked.

‘No…not unless you do.’

The hope that he’d missed the slight tremor in her voice evaporated as he deftly removed her sunglasses.

He swore. ‘Aw, you poor kid. Don’t cry.’