Christmas Blue at Flynn's Page 11

  “Maybe it’s not us. We’re getting on just fine.” Sally glared at Flynn. “So we must be getting on your nerves.”

  “What? Of course not.” Shit shit shit. “Look, can we just start this whole conversation again?”

  Everyone at the table looked at each other then glared back at Flynn.

  “Okay. Right.” She rubbed her forehead. “Fine, we’re all getting on all right.”

  Stony silence.

  “But we’re all together.” She smiled brightly. “That’s good, right? We’re all here to spend Christmas together, in company, not alone. None of us is alone this Christmas.”

  More stony silence.

  Flynn bit her lip. This was going down the crapper faster than a bad case of the trots after eating chilli. “Good, right?”

  Why were they all so mad at her?

  Dax fixed his freaky gaze on her. “So you invited us because we were alone.”

  “Yes!” Thank God someone was understanding.

  “So basically this is a pity invite.”

  “No!”

  “If we had our own families, you’d never have invited us.”

  “That’s not what-”

  “I see.” Gramma’s lips tightened. “You invited us out of pity.”

  “And we get on your nerves.” Gram’s eyes narrowed.

  Panic had Flynn’s gut churning. “That’s not it at-”

  “Well, I’ve heard enough.” Sally shoved to her feet. “You don’t want me here? I’m going!”

  Flynn’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

  “I don’t need anyone’s pity. I actually had plans of my own for this Christmas and I gave them up to come here.” Gram was out of the chair. “Linda? You coming?”

  “We all had plans,” Sally said.

  “I’m disappointed in you, Flynn.” Gramma’s expression was a mixture of anger and disillusionment.

  “This darkness is soul-destroying. It’s like being torn asunder and thrown into the deepest pit.” Dax got up and walked out of the room.

  “Stop!” Flynn leaped to her feet. “Stop this! Everyone just stop!”

  “I’ve never been so insulted.” Gramma stalked from the room.

  “You’ve changed, Flynn,” Gram said sadly. “You were such a nice girl.”

  “Wait! Tomorrow is Christmas Eve! You can’t just walk out!”

  Chapter 7

  “Flynn?”

  Curled up in the armchair, Flynn sniffed.

  “Flynn? Where are you?” There was definite worry in Ben’s voice.

  “In here.” Sneakers scuffed in the hallway and she smiled slightly as he entered. “Hi. How was your day?”

  One look at her face and his creased in sympathy. “Oh, baby.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” Pulling her to her feet, Ben sat down and drew her onto his lap.

  “Don’t be too sweet or I might cry.” With a little sigh, she laid her head against his chest, welcoming the strong arms that cradled her close.

  “That bad, huh?” His lips brushed across her crown.

  “That bad.” His scrub top smelled like dog. A couple of hairs tickled her nose and she brushed them off.

  That hair might have been from his scrubs, might have been from Scruff or Phoebe, both of whom she’d dragged back to her home for non-critical comfort and unconditional love.

  Her very empty home, scene of mass destruction.

  Several minutes passed quietly as he held her close while she rested gratefully in his comforting embrace. Now this was what she’d needed, someone to hold her after a shitty day and not give her grief.

  One thing she’d always known about Ben was his easygoing nature, she just hadn’t realised until recently just how supportive he was, how accepting. Man was definitely one in a million, a keeper.

  “Want to talk about it?” he asked quietly.

  She traced his wristwatch with one finger. “You first.”

  “Busy day. Vaccinations, operations, consults. Out to one of our multi-cat owners to vaccinate her furry horde. Did a talk at a primary school.”

  “Really? A school?”

  “Pet care. Derek dobbed me in for it. How callous was that?”

  “You and twenty or thirty ankle-biters. Not so different to high-spirited puppies, right?”

  “Puppies are easier, you throw them toys. These kids are older, they expect more to be thrown at them. Like iPads.”

  “Tough crowd, huh?”

  “Tough enough that I decided I’m not ready to have kids for a couple of years yet.”

  Flynn laughed, his rumble of shared amusement in her ear where it rested against his chest.

  “Your turn.” He patted her thigh encouragingly.

  She exhaled noisily. “Where to start...”

  “The beginning is usually easiest.”

  “Once upon a time there was this idiot girl who had a great idea. It all turned to shit. The end.”

  “You might need to fill in some parts for me.”

  “It’s a great story.” She picked at his watch strap. “I came home and Gramma and Gram jumped me. Apparently I lack manners because I didn’t ring them or come home.”

  “Because you’d had enough.”

  “Then I insulted everyone by saying we got on each other’s nerves because apparently I’m the only one with anyone getting on my nerves.” Flynn slid one finger over the knuckles of the capable, masculine hand resting on her lap. “Seems no one else is twanging, jumping, pulling or shredding anyone else’s nerves.”

  “Oh yes, because your grandmothers are getting along like a house on fire, Sally hasn’t got her face jammed onto her mobile phone screen, and Rocky doesn’t get on Gramma’s nerves.”

  “It gets better.”

  “Really?” Turning his hand over, Ben caught hers in a gentle hold.

  “I also broke up Sid and Sally, that’s my fault, too. If they hadn’t come here they would still be together.” Her throat felt a little tight.

  “Had nothing to do with being best mates with strangers they met over the internet.”

  “Oh, and before I forget, I invited them all out of pity. It was a pity invite.”

  “Nothing to do with an urge to bring family together for the festive season.”

  “Apparently they had plans they gave up for my invitation.”

  “Would’ve been nice if they’d let you know that sooner, such as before they accepted your invitation.”

  Her eyes burned a little. “I’m a soul-destroying darkness.”

  Ben twined their fingers together. “Dax said that?”

  “He might not have actually called me that, but it was pretty close. Something about this darkness being soul-destroying. I figure that might have been me.” She sniffed.

  “Oh, baby.” He tightened his arms.

  A tear slipped out, followed by another.

  His eyes were so tender. “Flynn, this isn’t your fault.”

  “It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow,” she choked. “And they all left. Angry. Gram was disappointed in me!”

  “The only person here with a right to be angry is you.” Ben rested his cheek on top of her head. “You did nothing wrong.”

  “I screwed up Christmas,” Flynn sobbed. “I screwed up their Christmas and our Christmas.”

  “They screwed up their Christmas, and in no way did you screw up ours.” He hugged her. “There’s still you and me and Phoebe and Scruff. We make a great team for Christmas.”

  The soothing reassurance of his words filled her with gratitude, but she was still wracked with guilt. Her one good deed had turned out to be a ripper of a total balls-up. “I should never have invited them.”

  “You had no idea it would turn out like this.”

  “Where will they spend Christmas, Ben?” Lifting her head, she met his gaze, his features blurred through her tears. “They’re away from home, probably in some crappy motel because all the good ones are taken at this time of the year.”


  Cupping her cheeks, he wiped the tears away with his thumbs. “They’ll find somewhere.”

  “It’s not here, and it’s not their homes. And it’s Christmas.” Because, to Flynn, that was so much worse. “This is a time of family and loving and giving and sharing, and - and - ”

  “Shhh.” He rested a finger lightly on her lips. “Did you phone them?”

  “Yes, but they won’t answer. It all goes straight to voice mail.”

  “They might just need time to cool off.”

  There was a glimmer of hope. “You think?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “You think once they cool off, think about it, they’ll know I didn’t mean to screw up Christmas?”

  “I think once they cool off, they’ll see that you care about them and Christmas, and none of this was your fault,” he corrected.

  “Really?” She wiped her eyes, pulled a tissue from her pocket, blew her nose.

  Ben’s lips twitched.

  “Sorry.” She smiled a little ruefully. “Red nose?”

  “Rudolph the Reindeer has nothing on that hooter.”

  “Yeah. I don’t cry pretty.”

  “Baby, I’ve never met anyone who did.” Leaning forward, he kissed her tenderly on the lips, pulling back to rest his forehead against hers, looking deeply into her eyes. “But you’re the one who comes the closest.”

  “Oh, Ben.” Sliding her arms around his neck, she hugged him, resting her chin on his shoulder.

  Big arms wrapped around her, held her close.

  “Thank you.” Tears still pricked her eyes, her throat was still a little tight, but she appreciated the man supporting her not just physically on his strong thighs, but also emotionally.

  It didn’t, however, stop her from silently blaming herself.

  If only she’d never extended the invitation they would have had their own Christmases at their own homes, celebrating it the way they always did.

  Turning her head, she rested her cheek on Ben’s shoulder, breathing in his doggie/kitty/antiseptic and goodness-knows-what-else smell, savouring the underlying masculine scent that was uniquely his, filling her lungs and letting it soothe her.

  Letting Ben soothe her.

  Even while her mind tiredly churned with troubling thoughts.

  Not least of all…it was Christmas….

  ~*~

  To anyone else, Flynn appeared happy, playing with Scruff and Phoebe, making sweet, sweet love to Ben in his bed that night and then again in the early morning before they both got up, Flynn returning to her place to do some cooking before the heat set in while Ben watered his garden and did some cleaning.

  Yeah, she was happy making love, her cares vanishing under his hands and lips, but now he spotted her through the kitchen window biting her lip as she gazed down at whatever she was doing out of sight. The unhappiness on her face was plain to see when she thought no one was observing.

  Hand watering the daisies growing along the side of the house, Ben frowned. Looked like they were both putting on an act because the truth was that while he was calm around her, deep inside he was seething.

  How could her family treat her like that? After what they’d put her through, to lay the blame at her feet was a shitty thing to do. Flynn crying in his arms had been gut-wrenching, made him want to storm the battlements of her family’s castle and bring down the walls and them with it.

  Nice metaphor, but reality was he had not a clue where they were nor really cared. Catching sight of Flynn wiping one hand under her eye then attacking with renewed vigour whatever it was she was making, Ben’s frown deepened. Except it mattered to Flynn, so it mattered to him.

  Damn it. Her tender heart was her undoing. It was also part of the reason he’d been drawn to her. She was everything bright, sunny and kind, but since the arrival of her family he’d seen the brightness dim, the sunniness become subdued.

  All she’d wanted was a happy Christmas and what did she get? An unappreciative mob of ill-mannered, careless no-hopers.

  He had a good mind to find them and ream them a new one.

  Shifting the spray to another daisy bush, he contemplated that notion. It wasn’t a half bad idea, but really what mattered right then wasn’t his anger, it was Flynn’s happiness.

  He’d bought her a Christmas present a few months ago, knew she’d love it, but he knew what would add to her happiness most of all was the family Christmas she’d planned. Or at least to know that her family was safe and in a decent place having Christmas together.

  When they should be including her.

  His teeth actually ground together a little.

  He stewed on all that while finishing the watering before making a decision. Casting a quick glance towards the kitchen window to ensure his little ray of sunshine - slightly dimmed - was safely out of earshot and view of his plan, Ben went inside the house, tracked to the kitchen and picked up her mobile where she’d left it on the kitchen bench. Switching it on, he scrolled through the contacts list, found the ungrateful mob’s numbers, and started dialling. Sure enough, every single one went to voice message.

  Okay, so they knew Flynn’s number and weren’t returning her calls, bloody big babies the lot of them.

  So he dialled on his own phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Who’s this?”

  “Daryl.”

  “Who?”

  “Daryl. I’m with Sally.”

  He was? That was fast of Sally. But still, none of his business. “Is Sally there?”

  “Yep.”

  “Can you put her on, please?”

  “Who is this?”

  “Ben.”

  There was silence for a few seconds, then, “Oh, I don’t think she wants to talk to you.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yeah, so I’m going to hang up now-”

  “Wait! Who else is there?”

  “Ah…let me see.” A pause, a rustle. “Two old chooks and some freak.”

  Charming. “Put one of the ladies on.”

  “They don’t want to talk to you either.”

  “Look, tell them Flynn is really upset and-” Ben cursed as the phone went dead.

  Bastard had hung up on him.

  Quickly he dialled the other numbers, but apparently they were all aware and no one answered - all went straight to damn voice mail. But still, he had to try to get through to them for Flynn’s sake.

  “Flynn is upset. Please, someone come and just talk to her, all right?” He hesitated, scowled. “Don’t spoil Christmas for her.” He ground his teeth because by now he really couldn’t give two hoots about the ungrateful jerks. “Or you lot.”

  Hanging up, he stood for several seconds with his hands on his hips just scowling at the floor.

  Seriously, how could such a sweetheart like Flynn come from the same breeding stock as that pack?

  When lunchtime came and went with not a sign of anyone, Ben was standing on the veranda thinking he’d have to start ringing motels to try and track them down when he spotted Rocky’s motorbike pulling into his driveway. And that made him pause as an idea popped into his head.

  Crossing the street, he met Rocky at the letterbox as the older bikie checked it for mail.

  “G’day.” Rocky glanced briefly at him before flicking through the mail. “Bugger me dead. Look at this. Who sends bills right on Christmas, hey? I’ll tell you.” He flapped the envelope. “Bloody anyone wanting to get the last scrap of money from us before we can use it for fun.” He shook his head.

  “Hey, Rocky, do you by any chance know where Flynn’s family are?”

  “Sure.” He jerked a thumb at Flynn’s house.

  “Actually, they left.”

  “Huh?” He glanced up, confused.

  “There was a misunderstanding and-”

  “Another blue at Flynn’s, huh?” Rocky shook his head. “Been a bit of that going around. Bet it’s Joy, that woman has a spark, huh? Heh heh.” Leering, he elbowed Ben.

  �
�Yes, well. I was just wondering if you knew where they went?”

  Puzzled, Rocky lowered the envelope he’d been scrutinizing suspiciously. “They went? As in left left?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why’d they do that?”

  “Like I said, a misunderstanding.”

  “Well, hell.” He scratched his head.

  “Do you know where they went?” Ben repeated. “Any idea? Any hint they may have thrown around? Anything?”

  “You’re sounding a bit desperate there, son.”

  “Look, Flynn’s upset,” Ben growled. “Can you tell me anything?”

  “Flynn’s upset?” Rocky’s eyebrows rose, then lowered. “By her family?”

  “From what I understand it somehow went both ways, but right now Flynn is my concern. So can you help me or not?”

  “Don’t get your short and curlies in a knot, son.” Rocky scratched his bristly jaw. “There was a message on my mobile. Joy said something about meeting her at the Hartful Motel tonight. I kind of thought it was for a little rendezvous, but now I’m thinking maybe she didn’t mean it for that.”

  Ben didn’t care what it meant, it was a lead. If he could talk to Joy, win her over, then Flynn’s Gram might be able to interceded on her behalf. If nothing else, he’d get out of her where the others were and talk to them.

  Make Flynn’s Christmas better. Make her smile again, make her sunny. Just make her happy.

  “Thanks, Rocky. Do me a favour, hey? Don’t let anyone know I asked.”

  Rocky was still frowning. “Yeah, no worries, mate. What’s this about?”

  “Family.” Ben shrugged. “You know how it can be.”

  “Yeah. Yeah.” Slowly, Rocky walked back to his house.

  Hurrying home, Ben looked up Hartful Motel, rang and confirmed that several rooms had been rented out to Flynn’s family. Satisfied, he then went to Flynn’s, entering the kitchen to find her making jelly.

  “To go with the ice cream,” she explained. “And some to go in the trifle.”

  “Yum.” He stuck his finger in the cold custard, scooped out a bit, popped it into his mouth. “Mmm.”

  “Don’t touch.” Sternly she waved the spoon at him. “Or I’ll be forced to smack your fingers.”

  “Flynn, I had no idea you were into discipline.”