‘Sure you do. You and me. The night sky. The smell of the campfire.’
‘That was a long time ago. We were different people then.’ She glanced over to the swag in which her son slept. Her son and the three-legged bitser he’d befriended.
‘Have we really changed so much?’ He didn’t feel so different. Fame and glory hadn’t been the journey to total satisfaction he’d thought they would be, but it had been rewarding. And if writing hadn’t worked out? Well, he’d probably be in business with Charlie twelve months a year instead of nine, or maybe he’d have harassed Number One into letting him work Gunn Station with her, and that would have been great, too. He’d been optimistic when he was younger, and he was optimistic now.
Jo’s voice was dry. ‘I don’t know how many stretch marks you’ve gained over the years, but I’ve gained a—’ She broke off. ‘Sorry. That was too much information.’
It was hard to tell in the dim light given off by the small LED lamp she’d hung under the tarpaulin, but he’d have sworn she was blushing.
‘That’s interesting,’ he said.
She frowned at him. ‘Interesting? What’s that supposed to mean?’
There was a warning tone if ever he’d heard one. And as a bloke with so many sisters, he’d definitely heard one. But—you know what?—he was feeling kinda reckless. ‘I saw quite a lot of you the other morning and my brain was not thinking,Golly gosh, Hux, check out those stretch marks.’
She breathed in so sharply he heard it from across a crate, a fire, her empty camp chair and Possum’s robust snores. ‘I think that is an episode best forgotten.’
‘I don’t want to forget it.’
She ducked her head and it was his turn to frown. Why so discomfited? Because he could have gone on. He had sentences tripping up in his head of things he could say, starting with how her smile still made his breath catch in his chest or how he’d forgotten just how distracting she looked on a dig site, those curves and legs strapped into shabby industrial workwear …
It was enough to make any bloke by a campfire lose a little of his hard-won caution.
‘Don’t do this, Hux.’
‘Do what?’
‘Get all charming and flirty. I don’t—I’m not—’
‘You’re not what?’
She sighed and dunked a little saucepan into the large pot of water steaming away on the tripod over the fire. She used the saucepan to fill two mugs she’d perched on the log he was resting his feet on, then handed him one. The teabag’s paper tag had fallen into the water and he fished it out with a wince.
‘I’m not in a good state of mind for that sort of thing.’
She’d flopped into the chair next to him and he considered her. There was baggage here. Husband–wife baggage he had no business poking his nose into. But she was the one who’d put a mug of tea in his hand …
‘So,’ he said conversationally. ‘When did you get married?’
‘Um. Well, you know I went to Argentina. I was there six months or so. But then I finally got accepted into the doctoral program, which came with a scholarship, which was thrilling because I was flat broke, but it also tied me to Brisbane. I was able to rent a place near the university and, with tutoring work to help pay the bills, I was able to devote myself to my thesis. I met Craig towards the end and we married just before I graduated. Luke wasn’t planned, he just … happened.’
Hux discovered he really did not want to think about what had ‘happened’ which resulted in Jo falling pregnant, so he concentrated on the first half of what she’d said.
‘Your thesis.The Social Lives of Dinosaurs, I assume?’
Her snort was a little inelegant, but it let him know she wasn’t totally averse to this line of questioning. ‘Yeah, yeah. It’s easy to mock a thesis title when you’re not the one who’s devoted years to it. Some of us believe studying science is important.’
He touched the back of her hand. It was tanned, with a freckle or two, and the nails were short, remnants of dirt from her pre-dinner scrabble around in the pit underneath. Much like they’d been the first time he’d seen her on a dig site on the property east of Winton, when he’d been delivering something or other. Mail? Fruit?
‘Sorry,’ he said. And he was. He’d been at the receiving end of plenty of mockery of his own over the years, and not all of it from the Numbers. ‘I didn’t think. I get plenty of people thinking writing a book is a doddle and dismissing my efforts as a total waste of time. I’m with you on science being important. Not as important as fiction, of course, but it’s too nice a night to get into a barney over it.’
She chuckled and must have finally noticed his hand on hers because she stopped smiling and snatched it away.
TYSON:Maaaaate.
To hell with it. He’d just ripped the bandage off his professional life for the whole world to gawk over, why not rip the bandage off his personal life as well?
‘Were you in love with me, Jo? Back when we were together?’
