Picturing Perfect (Meet the McIntyres Book 2) Read online

  “Yeah, Payton, we…we were just messing about,” Mia apologised quickly. It wasn’t quick enough. The damage was done. It would take a couple of days before Payton let this one slide.

  “I’ve gotta go clean up,” she lied, grabbing the empty cups and plates and scurrying off towards the back of her shop.

  For a brief second I thought about following her, but decided better of it. I’d give her some time. She’d come around. She loved these girls and wouldn’t let some stupid, dumb comment ruin a friendship that I knew she cherished. Payton just needed time to get over herself.

  A moment later Mia and Josie were draping their purses over their shoulders, offering weak goodbyes and apologies, and scurrying from the bakery with their tails between their legs. There was no doubt in my mind they felt like shit for what had just gone down, but they’d get over it. Everyone would. It was just some silly, sarcastic remark that didn’t mean anything. Not to Payton. Not to me. And certainly not to the McIntyre boys. In fact, from what I knew of them, they’d find the whole thing fucking hilarious. Okay, maybe Beau wouldn’t, but Connor and Gage would certainly get a good laugh out of it.

  My phone beeped in my pocket and I struggled to dig it out. Damn, these shorts were getting tight. Maybe I should hook up with Mia and join her for a run. If only she didn’t go so early, I may have given it serious consideration. I didn’t function fully before ten. Anyone expecting anything from me before that, well, let’s just say if they got the snarky, sarcastic, and jaded version of Carly, well, that was their own fault.

  Checking my phone, I almost slipped off the vinyl seat. It was the dating site I’d signed up to a million years ago. At least it felt like that long ago. I’d caved in one of my less than impressive moments, when Mum was badgering me about being single at yet another family get together. It was almost like me going stag to Aunt Robyn and Uncle Stewart’s backyard barbeque was somehow humiliating to her. I didn’t give a shit, but I was sick of the incessant nagging and underhanded comments my family tossed in my direction. No one understood my life and sadly, I’d given up a long time ago trying to explain it.

  It took a few attempts to remember my password, thankfully I only had four that I used on pretty much everything, then I was in. With the little number one in the corner of the screen indicating I had unread mail, I quickly darkened the screen and stuffed it back in my pocket.

  I didn’t know if I even wanted to look. I wasn’t really looking for anyone or anything at the moment. I was just trying to find my place in the world, and the first step in helping me achieve what I needed was finding somewhere new to live. I loved Payton and being with her was amazing, but her couch dug into my back and I didn’t know how many more nights I could lie there listening to her beg Beau to fuck her harder.

  Finding my feet, I stumbled into the kitchen and saw exactly what I expected. Payton had covered the place in flour and sugar. God knows what she was baking this time, but I knew it would be incredible. Seriously, that girl hadn’t met a recipe she couldn’t master.

  “Pay?”

  “Yep.”

  She spun around to face me, and it took everything I had to hold my tongue. She was covered. Batter was splattered through her dark hair and her face was pretty much white from the flour. She might have been the best baker I knew, but she was also the messiest. Her only saving grace was each day around closing time, Beau would appear and help wash away the mess. That was how I knew he really, really loved her. I’d seen Payton attempt to cook Hayden a birthday cake in their own kitchen and the mess she’d made. When he’d walked in and she’d presented it to him, the asshat that he is, turned up his nose and made some snarky comment about she better start cleaning up her pigsty before someone saw it. Asshole knew exactly where to hit her to make sure it hurt.

  “I’ve been thinking…”

  “Did it hurt?”

  “Smart ass!”

  “Need an aspirin?”

  “Can we focus here?”

  “Sorry. Go ahead, Carly. You were thinking.”

  “I need to move out.” There it was. I’d put it out there. Although I wasn’t in a rush to be out by the end of the day, I wanted to give her a heads up the moment I made the decision. It was only fair. And truthfully, until that unexpected message popped up, I hadn’t actually one hundred percent decided. But if I wanted a chance at a life and at love, then I needed my own space. After all, it wasn’t like I could bring some guy home to Payton’s couch.

  “Why? What’d I do?”

  “Hey! Hey! Hey! Come on, Pay, you know me better than that. You did nothing wrong. You never would. I hadn’t planned on staying as long as I already have. Now I want to hang around, I want some space of my own. If this is going to be home, I need to set my shit up and get the rest from Mum’s place. I need more than the duffle bag I brought if I want to grow my business the way I’d always dreamed.”

  “Makes sense, I guess.” She wasn’t happy about it, but thankfully she understood.

  “Look, I’m not saying I’m packing my shit today, so you’re stuck with me for a while longer. But I am going to start looking. See if I can find something that fits and I can afford.”

  “Okay.”

  As quick as I could, I climbed the stairs and flopped into the lounge, also known as my bed, and stared at my phone. I shouldn’t have been shocked, but I was. Clicking open the app, I logged in and there it was. Unmistakable. Taunting. Tempting.

  DrDolittle2.0: Knock Knock

  Seriously! A fucking knock knock joke! If I hadn’t already spoken to DrDolittle before, I’d delete his message without even responding. I wasn’t a five-year-old who found knock knock jokes funny. So I had absolutely no idea why, I found myself replying.

  ClickChick7: Who’s there?’

  What could it hurt to play along? I didn’t expect a reply straight away. Hopefully, DrDolittle had a job and was too busy working to play childish knock knock games in the middle of the day. Putting my phone down, I grabbed my laptop from under the couch and started fiddling with the photos from last week’s wedding. Sometimes it was almost impossible to make such an ugly person on the inside look beautiful on the outside.

  Two hundred photos later, my hands were cramped and my eyes blurry. I should have put my glasses on to do this, but that meant getting up, and I was just so comfortable where I was. With the cool breeze ruffling the curtains, I stretched my arms up high above my head and groaned. I should get up and do something. I had a pile of clothes that were starting to smell, I should start looking for somewhere to live, and do some Christmas shopping. I should probably start that sooner than later.

  Ignoring all of it, I logged into my bank account, and paid some bills. I was surprised by how much was in there. I didn’t live frugally, but I wasn’t a shopaholic either. Lately I’d been working so much I hadn’t had time to do much of anything else. And living out here, away from the city, was so much cheaper in every way. With dollar signs in my eyes, I started dreaming up exotic holidays where I could see the world around me instead of flying into a dream destination and only getting to see the inside of the smallest hotel room and the crepe paper covered reception hall. Not that they weren’t beautiful in their own way, but it wasn’t exactly lying on a beach with the latest trashy romance novel and a cocktail. Do you have any idea how hard it is to spend four days on Fraser Island and spend the whole time sober? It’s not natural.

  With more ideas than was safe, I put the computer away, tossed a load of washing in the machine, grabbed my sunglasses, and headed out for a walk. A walk through the town might just find me somewhere new to live. That, and give me some peace before I faced the one thing on my to do list I was dreading the most. Phone my mother.

  If I thought watching Katie’s heart break yesterday sucked donkey’s balls, then today was suicidal. After an hour-long phone conference with the head office going through the budgets and plans for the new year, they were determined to ramp up everything and make themselves feel important
and involved. They’d tripled my monthly reporting requirements and halved my budget. Just thinking about it all was giving me a headache.

  Needing a break from the screen full of emails staring back at me, I headed for the kitchen and grabbed a fresh cup of coffee. Digging my phone from my pocket, I was shocked to see ClickChick7 had replied. Driving home this morning, I felt the need to talk to someone. Anyone. After watching the way Payton and Beau were crawling all over each other, it made me want what they had. I was jealous. Not just of the intimacy, either. I wanted the easy going banter they shared. That’s probably why I’d sent a knock knock joke to someone I barely knew.

  Opening up the reply I was surprised to see she’d played along. That fact alone made me like her just a little more.

  ClickChick7: Who’s there?

  As quick as I could, I tapped out a reply. Who knew telling dumb jokes could turn your whole morning around? For the first time since I’d stumbled my way out of Payton’s house earlier after suffering though Carly’s god awful singing and imagining her on the other side of the door shaking her pert little ass as she went, I smiled. A real, genuine smile cracked my face and lightened my mood. It felt fucking fantastic.

  DrDolittle2.0: Owl

  “Gage?” Alice’s voice broke the silence and interrupted my happy thoughts, sending me crashing back to reality.

  “Kitchen.”

  A moment later she waddled in, looking completely frazzled and overwhelmed. My heart sunk. I’d known Alice long enough to know when she was looking this stressed, nothing good was coming.

  “How busy are you, Gage?”

  The bastard part of me thought of saying no. Then I remembered the spreadsheet sitting on my screen waiting for me to untangle and decipher it. I’d rather do anything than spend hours staring at formulas I didn’t understand.

  “What do you need, Alice?”

  “Mrs. Andrews is here. Her cat, Bubbles…well, he’s not doing well.”

  “Old Mrs. Andrews? The old school principal?”

  “Yes, that’s her. But enough of the ‘old’ thank you.”

  “We better take a look then, shouldn’t we?”

  After gulping down a few mouthfuls of the disgusting instant coffee, I tossed the rest in the sink and followed Alice through the maze of hallways back out to the reception area where Mrs. Andrews was sitting sobbing in the chair as she petted the ugly grey cat in her lap.

  “Mrs. Andrews?”

  “Oh. Excuse me,” she apologised, wiping her eyes hastily as she tried to hide the tears. Tears were never a good sign. Most people who came in crying already knew the answer. They were no longer full of hope and looking for a miracle. No, the people who came in with their pets, hugging them close, reassuring them that nothing painful was coming and sobbing softly, they knew. But knowing and accepting it were two totally different things.

  “Did you want to come in and we can take a look at Bubbles?”

  I almost said pussy. It was on the tip of my tongue. But I couldn’t say pussy. Not to the lady who suspended me for fighting back when I was a rowdy child. I wasn’t the only one she suspended for that fight, though. My little brother, Ryan, he’d spent a couple of days at home doing chores too.

  As she rose from the chair, I saw for the first time how old and frail she looked. Long gone was the woman who’d run up and down the soccer field in a skirt and heels, keeping everyone in line.

  All it took was fifteen minutes before I led Mrs. Andrews back through the reception area, her fist full of soggy tissues. Bubbles was on his way to the great big farm in the sky. After handing her over to Alice to take care of the paperwork and the bill, like the chicken shit I was, I went and hid. There was a reason I lived alone. Tears was one of them.

  Back in my office, I couldn’t concentrate. The spreadsheet in front of me could have been in Chinese for all the sense it was making. Shuffling the papers around, I yawned loudly. Sleeping on the floor didn’t exactly result in a restful night.

  It was almost three. I needed to get out of here. Scooping up the papers, I called out my half-hearted goodbyes and headed home. Hopefully after a shower and a nap, I’d be able to focus. Thank god it was only four days before Christmas. I was desperate for the break. Even though I was going to be on call the whole time, it meant no paperwork, and that was something I was definitely looking forward to.

  Waking up, my stomach gurgled. Outside it was already dark. I hadn’t planned on sleeping that long, but shit happened. I did feel better though. Obviously I needed the sleep. Tossing one of those cardboard, frozen dinners in the microwave, I ducked into the bathroom and washed up.

  Sitting down at the table, the papers I’d brought home taunted me, but I couldn’t summon the energy to give a shit. I was stuffed. The last thing I wanted to do was deal with numbers.

  After returning a few texts from my brothers, and a dozen more from Payton—that girl was festive season obsessed, now she was trying to enforce the ugly Christmas t-shirts as a theme—I stumbled on a reply from ClickChick7.

  ClickChick7: Owl who?

  It kinda surprised me she was still playing.

  DrDolittle2.0: Owl good things come to those who wait.

  ClickChick7: That’s super corny.

  DrDolittle2.0: Sorry.

  ClickChick7: Don’t be. Best laugh I’ve had today.

  ***

  It was way too fucking early to be dealing with people. Nevertheless here I was, bouncing down the gravel driveway, my dark sunglasses blocking out the early morning sun, praying Beau had the coffee brewing. After all, it was his fault I was even conscious this early.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of something shining so damn brightly it almost blinded me. Tinsel. Fucking tinsel was wrapped around every second tree. Someone had gone overboard around here and my money was on the family’s newest addition. I mean, she wasn’t technically family yet, but looking at how far up Payton’s curvy ass Beau was, it wouldn’t be long before he was putting a ring on it.

  Pulling up in front of the house, the decorations got worse. The house was falling down. There was no question about it. Every time I stepped up onto the veranda and heard the creaks and groans of the rotting floor boards as I held my breath, praying I wouldn’t go straight through. The tin roof overhead wasn’t in much better nick either. It didn’t seem to matter, though. Between the tinsel, the fake Christmas tree standing in the corner, the icicle lights hanging from the rafters, and bunches of what looked like plastic mistletoe dangling from anything they could be attached to, it looked like Santa’s workshop had exploded.

  I was barely out of the car when I was bowled over by a bouncy blonde as she leapt into my arms, completely trusting I’d catch her. She was right. I’d never let her fall. I hadn’t yet and I wasn’t about to start. Holly was and always would be my princess and the number one woman in my life. If I ever got married, my wife would just have to accept she came second. Holly stole my heart the moment she was born and I had no intentions of asking for it back.

  “Hey Princess. You been into the Christmas goodies already?” I teased as I slid her down my body and set her back on her feet.

  “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

  Ooooh goodie! Holly had her knickers in a twist already. I wondered if Ryan was already here. He was usually the one who wound her up like this.

  “Nothing, Princess. Nothing at all.” I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, and Holly hugged me close.

  It felt perfect.

  Driving onto the farm, I’d been dreading dealing with today. People were exhausting enough on a normal day, but Christmas, well, that was something else entirely. For some reason, one that was completely foreign to me, Christmas brought out the best and worst in everyone. In the two weeks leading up to the fateful day, the shops are filled, people buy food like they’re preparing to move into a bunker and hide for weeks on end, every man and his dog decides that they have to catch up for a beer or a barbeque before the holi
day season, and that’s all before you even make it to Christmas Eve.

  I love my family. I do. Well, most of the time anyway, but I do prefer them in small doses. Being one of five makes any time we’re all together loud and emotional. Someone always, without fail, manages to say something careless, although rarely callous, and upsets one of the others. Most of the time, I found myself just holding my breath and trying to get through it. Thankfully I’d never done Christmas on my own, and secretly I never wanted to—I always imagined it would be incredibly lonely, but I knew, from the moment I set foot through that front door, I was on a rollercoaster. One I couldn’t get off—at least for the day.

  After barely sleeping last night as I battled stomach cramps and spent more hours sitting on the toilet than I did lying in my bed, I didn’t have the energy or the mental capacity to endure drama today. All I could do was hope Mum somehow forgot and didn’t show. Having her here was the last thing we needed.

  “Here we go…”

  “Did you say something, Gage?” Holly asked from under my arm. I shook my head. There was no point starting an argument this early. Let’s at least get some breakfast into our stomachs before we went there.

  Even though I was still feeling queasy and I was desperate for a cup or a bucket, I wasn’t particularly fussy of coffee. That all changed the moment I stepped inside.

  Where the front yard looked cheap and nasty, inside was something else. Even without my morning caffeine hit, I was suddenly feeling all festive. The house hadn’t looked better in years. Inside everything was clean, that in itself was a huge change. In the corner of the lounge room stood a huge, six foot tall real Christmas tree. I have no idea where she’d found it or how much it cost, but it was perfect. White twinkling lights flashed, there were piles of perfectly wrapped presents underneath, and all the ornaments from my childhood stared back at me. I couldn’t help it. I dropped my hold on Holly and headed straight for it. As I moved further into the house, with each step the air smelt more and more like pine and cinnamon and…Christmas.