It was a joke. A bad one, I admitted. But she’d successfully made me feel like even worse scum than I was.
“Doesn’t matter.” I flinched as my leg throbbed with renewed pain. “It’s what most people would be thinking. But I get it. I annoy you and you want nothing to do with me. I can fend for myself, so you don’t have to worry about me, all right? Worry about the damn kids and leave me—”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” Her hands slammed on her hips. “Dammit, you piss me off.”
I froze.
The fire in her eyes, the rosy pink of her cheeks, and the sharp angle of her jaw made me swallow hard. She was beautiful when she was caring and doing her best to reassure, but goddammit, she was exquisite when she was mad.
My heart thundered as she pointed a finger in my face. “Let’s get something clear, right now.”
I couldn’t move. All I could do was stare and do my best not to fall. Fall and fall for this creature who I didn’t know but wanted to. Fall for a stranger who looked at me with scorn and irritation. Fall for the only woman on this godforsaken island.
There was no such thing as love at first sight. But I did believe in lust. And Christ, I lusted.
“I am not the type of person you can swear, be nasty, or act like a jerk to because I won’t put up with it. I’m not like others who will scream at you when you’re being a dick or give you a second chance when you screw up. I’ll just cut you off and act like you’re invisible. I’ll take care of those kids because they need me and I need them to need me to ensure I don’t collapse in despair. But I don’t need you. I don’t need you to antagonise me or get under my skin. I want to help you but only if you’ll help yourself and shut the hell up and be nice for a change.”
Running her fingers through her hair, blonde strands crackled with static as she forced herself to calm down. “I’m sorry. I don’t normally yell.” Her face scrunched up as she hugged her chest. “My ribs hurt and you’re right. I think a couple are broken. But unlike you, I’m not letting rage get the better of me. This is our life now. We’re lucky to be alive. Try acting like you want to survive and we’ll get along fine.”
Part of me wanted to tell her to go away. Because she was right. About everything. And it was about time someone had the balls to tell me to my face that I should be grateful.
This was a fresh start. No one knew me here. I had no dirty track record or deplorable history. She didn’t need to know the type of man I’d been because here I could be someone different.
It was as if a massive boulder suddenly rolled off my back, removing its weight of shame and anger.
I could be better here.
I could be anything I wanted.
Estelle didn’t move, her eyes never leaving mine.
Wincing, I arched my ass off the forest floor and pulled something out of my back pocket. I’d forgotten it was in there until Estelle took the kids to the beach.
I was going to keep them—just in case we needed them at a later date. I’d even been tempted to take them myself (because I was a weak asshole who put himself first). But I wouldn’t hide it. Because right now, this was an olive branch. My first decent thing I’d done for years.
Keeping my fist tight, I held out my hand. “Here. This is for you.”
For a moment, she didn’t move, but then she leaned forward and accepted my gift. The foil packet fell into her palm.
Her eyes widened. “No, I can’t take this.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No, really. I can’t.” She shook her head. “Conner or Pippa should have this. Or you...”
“I’ll manage and the other two will be okay.”
“But—”
“No buts. If you insist on being there for us—even me after I’ve been a prick to you—the least you can do is take it so you don’t have to care for us and be in so much pain.”
Estelle clutched the single dose of Advil that I’d bought before boarding the plane in Los Angeles. I’d had a headache and bought the two pills just in case it morphed into a migraine. I had a tendency to get those if I got too stressed and leaving the timber farm where I’d finally found peace stressed me to the max.
I smirked. “Not sure how you’ll take them seeing as I don’t have any water. But please, I want you to have them.”
“Is this your way of apologising?”
“I need to apologise?”
That earned me half a smile.
I chuckled. “Call it a do-over. Can we do that? Take the pills...please.”
I fully expected her to refuse. She was the type of person to forgo any benefit to herself and give it to others—I didn’t need to spend a lot of time around her to know that—but she ripped open the foil and placed the two tablets on her tongue.
Throwing her head back, she swallowed them dry.
She must be in serious pain to accept them.
Crumpling the packet into a ball, she wedged it into her jeans pocket and came closer. Holding out her hand, she smiled. “I accept your do-over. Let’s begin again, shall we?”