Secret Confessions: Down & Dusty — Kelly Read online

  Secret Confessions: Down & Dusty — Kelly

  Fiona Lowe

  www.escapepublishing.com.au

  Secret Confessions: Down & Dusty — Kelly.

  Fiona Lowe

  Welcome to the heart—and heat—of Australia…

  They say that no one has secrets in a small town—these women prove them wrong.

  Eight brand-new stories from some of Australia’s hottest writers in Australia’s hottest genre. From the bar stools of the local pub to the wide open plains of the biggest stations in the world, these tales travel the dusty roads to the heart of Australia and the women who understand how to work hard—and play even harder.

  In the latest in the wildly successful Secret Confessions series from Escape Publishing, the women of Down & Dusty invite you into their lives—and their bedrooms.

  Kelly Wilkins’ marriage has always been a team effort, but lately, under the daily grind of work, kids, and an unrelenting drought, she feels like her team has dwindled to one. The lack of rain in Milpinyani Springs isn’t the only dry spell affecting her and, despite her best efforts, her once attentive husband hasn’t touched her in weeks. With the threat of a long, dry summer stretching out in front of them, can Kelly and Grant rediscover their spark, or will their relationship be another casualty of the drought?

  Secret Confessions: Down & Dusty

  Reading order

  1. Casey—Rachael Johns

  2. Lucky—Cate Ellink

  3. Kelly—Fiona Lowe

  4. Brooke—Eden Summers

  5. Clarissa—Mel Teshco

  6. Skye—Rhyll Biest

  7. Maree—Elizabeth Dunk

  8. Frankie—Jackie Ashenden

  About the Author

  Fiona Lowe is a RITA® and RuBY award-winning, multi-published author with Berkley Penguin USA, Carina Press and Harlequin Mills & Boon. Whether her books are set in outback Australia or in the USA, they feature small towns with big hearts and warm, likable characters that make you fall in love. When she’s not writing stories, she’s a distracted wife, mother of two ‘ginger’ sons, guardian of 80 rose bushes, slave to a cat and often found collapsed on the couch with wine. You can find her at her website, Facebook, Twitter and Goodreads.

  To the Down & Dusty authors. Thanks for the laughs and supplying me with all those great photos of half naked men. The research was tough, but you rose to the challenge.

  Contents

  About the Author

  Episode 3—Kelly

  Bestselling Titles by Escape Publishing…

  Episode 3—Kelly

  Red dust laughed in the face of window and door seals. Hell, it gave the bird to houses in general, and when the west wind blew over the drought-ravaged district, clouds of it moved in and took over every surface with easy familiarity. Kelly Wilkins knew it was pointless getting upset by the layer of vivid orange outback dirt that now graced the floor—the floor she’d mopped this morning immediately after dropping the kids off at school and before heading to her job at the Milpinyani Springs medical centre. But knowing that wasn’t enough to stop frustration crawling through her.

  And it wasn’t only frustration at the dust. Part of her wished it were, because that would be an easy fix—a quick swish of the mop, job done—but there was no easy fix to the problem that was her marriage. It was like the ever-present and pervasive dust that spun around her, blocking her nose, clogging her throat and increasing in amount and intensity with every passing day.

  She heard the sound of her eight-year-old’s feet pounding against the floorboards and heading fast toward the back door. ‘Max! Come back, please, and empty your school bag.’

  ‘Aww, Mum.’ The pounding slowed to a slow stomp.

  ‘Aww, nothing. You know the deal. It’s spelling and times tables first, then the trampoline.’

  A flash of pink appeared, twirling in her peripheral vision. ‘Mummy, it’s not fair. How can I be a ballerina if you won’t let me learn?’

  Kelly felt the muscles in her neck, which had been tight all day, ratchet up a notch. As much as she loved being the more hands-on parent, she bore the brunt of the kids’ theatrics and Ruby had a degree in drama. Kelly swallowed a sigh. ‘Ruby, honey, it’s not that I don’t want you to learn, it’s just the closest dance school is a three-hour drive away. Besides, I’m teaching you the basics.’

  ‘But it’s not fair,’ Ruby pouted. ‘Daddy flies to Longreach all the time. Why can’t I go with him?’

  Kelly put cheese and biscuits on a plate for their post-school snack. ‘Because the Flying Doctors’ planes are for sick people.’

  ‘I wish Daddy had his own plane,’ her daughter said glumly, ‘and then he’d take me to ballet.’

  Kelly wished Grant had a plane too and that they could fly away together for one night. Hell, she’d take one hour.

  Her SAT phone beeped with an incoming text. When they’d lived in Brisbane and then Longreach, she’d had a smart phone and she’d assigned different sounds to different people but her glossy phone was useless out here. Her mother and sister called her on the landline and the only person who ever texted her was Grant. She didn’t want to read it, because it was rare for Grant to text her with news she wanted to hear.

  Patient with #femur. Delayed out of Windorah. Sorry. Will miss games night.

  Disappointment tried to half-heartedly unfurl its banner inside her, but after a decade of being married to a doctor, Kelly knew there was no point—it was a wasted emotion. Instead, familiar resignation slid in to take its place. As much as she wanted Grant to be here with them, she knew patients came first. It was just lately she felt like she was sharing her dedicated husband with the kids, Milpinyani Springs, the Barcoo Shire and most of central western Queensland, and everyone else was getting the greater share of him.

  During the infrequent times they were both actually at home together she’d tried different things to spark up their almost non-existent sex life. The striptease had worked, the whipped cream had just been messy and he’d fallen asleep during the massage. It had been too long since Grant had done more than kiss her on the forehead before rolling over and instantly falling asleep. Forget sexual fantasies like being handcuffed with a man between her legs; right now she’d settle for plain old missionary position if it meant she and Grant got to have sex.

  ***

  ‘Max!’ Kelly yelled over the barking of their bouncy and excited golden retriever. ‘Take Rufus outside, please, and come straight back in for breakfast. Ruby, you know Ms Haraldson said you can’t wear your tutu over your school uniform.’

  Kelly was in ‘Operation Morning’ mode, trying to get everyone dressed, packed, ready, and out the door on time, including herself. She had a full list of maternal and child health appointments starting at nine plus a home visit. All up, it was a one hundred and twenty kilometre round trip and she had to be back in time for school pick-up.

  ‘Where’s Daddy?’ she asked Ruby as she glanced at the old station clock. It was the first gift Grant had given her and she loved it. She’d grown up with a similar clock in her parents’ home, so the gift was thoughtful. It was also ironic, because Kelly was always on time and Grant was not.

  ‘I’m here,’ Grant’s deep and melodious voice announced calmly as if he wasn’t running late.

  She glanced up from loading fruit into the kids’ lunch boxes and soaked him in. Although he was now ten years older than when she’d first met him, Grant still had a way of making her stop, look and breathe in deeply against a delicious, tingling rush. She’d noticed other women stopped and looked as well, and Grant worked with a lot of women. Was that why he was ignoring her in bed lately?

>   Don’t go there.

  She pulled her mind back from that dark and dangerous place and forced herself to smile.

  He was straight out of the shower and the blond hair on his nape was still damp, the dry ends kicking up on his shirt collar. He wore her favourite chambray shirt, which lit up his vivid, outback-sky-blue eyes and emphasised the distinctive black ring around the iris. Eyes that had once sought hers across a crowded hospital cafeteria in Brisbane and made her quiver in delicious anticipation. Eyes that had once said, Fuck me, I’m yours. And she had—up against the wall in the supply room, on the desk in his office and on a bed in a closed ward.

  Now, when his eyes caught hers, they only said, I’m tired.

  A wave of sadness rolled through her. Of course she knew that sex couldn’t always be at the high-octane level of their early relationship but hell, they’d done better when the twins were babies than they were doing now. It was like sex had slid to the bottom of their ever-extending to-do list. Grant’s list anyway.

  He leant in toward her, his fresh scent of peppermint and laundry powder encircling her, and she turned and tilted her head so she could meet his lips. He missed her mouth and kissed her almost absently on the cheek.

  ‘I’ve got clinic in town today. Did you book the four-wheel drive in for a service at Joel’s? It’s overdue and you know you can’t risk breaking down out here again.’

  She heard the criticism in his voice and swallowed a sigh. Once she’d been late getting the Cruiser serviced. Once she’d been stranded when the fuel pump had failed. Joel had reassured her that the two things were not connected. Grant apparently disagreed.

  ‘Joel’s doing it on Tuesday.’ The toast flew up out of the toaster and she shot out a hand to catch the slices before putting them on a plate. ‘Have you paid your professional indemnity insurance?’

  Grant wasn’t great at remembering mundane things like paying bills and the thought of him missing this particular payment gave her heartburn. As much as he was a loved and respected member of the community, it only took one grieving person to decide to sue and they risked losing everything. ‘You know it’s due tomorrow, right?’ Her worry carried over into her voice, making it sharper than she’d intended.

  ‘Yes, Kelly, I’m aware and I’ll pay it today,’ he said coolly as he scraped butter and Vegemite over the toast before cutting it into triangles. ‘Ruby, Max, breakfast.’

  ‘Daddy!’ The twins came running and threw themselves at their father. ‘You missed seeing me beat Mummy at Mancala,’ Max boasted.

  ‘Daddy, you want me to go to ballet school, don’t you?’ Ruby’s beguiling voice and matching smile made Kelly see fast into the future. Men wouldn’t stand a chance.

  ‘How about breakfast in front of the TV this morning?’ Grant said, ruffling the kids’ hair.

  ‘Yay!’ The twins grabbed their plates and, purposely not looking at Kelly, ran from the kitchen while the going was good.

  Indignation surged through her. Even when she stuck to the routine, mornings were chaos without adding cartoons into the mix. She hated how Grant did this sort of thing because the twins saw him as the fun parent and his many understandable absences meant she was often the disciplining parent. Just like she’d be in fifteen minutes when he left for work and she had to get the twins out the door to school.

  She lost control of her barely-leashed frustration. ‘Grant, what are you thinking? It’s a school morning.’

  He didn’t say a word, but instead caught her gently by the elbow and propelled her into the large walk-in pantry and out of earshot of the twins. Memories rushed her—Grant ushering her quickly into the supply room, shutting the door, pulling her close and crushing his mouth against hers.

  A wave of delicious and glorious heat hit her and she looked up into his handsome face. Despite always wearing a hat, his skin was tanned from the outback sun, giving him a healthy glow that almost yelled, you want my DNA, baby. Today he was freshly shaved, which emphasised his square jaw and his prominent cheekbones.

  Her fingers buzzed despite the fact they’d touched his face thousands of times before. Not that they’d done much touching lately but that was about to change right this second—she could feel it in every part of her. Her eyes sought his and her lips parted in anticipation of seeing the matching desire in his bluer-than-blue gaze.

  Nope. Desire was absent. In its place was the scorching heat of anger, which immediately extinguished the flicker of her arousal as fast as a flame starved of oxygen.

  ‘You bought a vibrator?’ Grant’s tone was quiet, low and accusatory.

  A swoop of guilt rushed her from head to toe. Not guilt from buying the toy—never that—but guilt that she’d hidden it from him as if it was a secret. A second later her own anger flared. ‘Hang on. What were you doing rifling through my sock drawer?’

  ‘Looking for my socks. None of them are in my drawer.’

  ‘Ruby and Max made sock puppets,’ she said automatically as if it was oddly necessary to account for his missing socks and that was when it hit her. This was the perfect segue to lead her into what she’d been trying to talk to him about for weeks. ‘I bought the vibrator because it’s designed for solo and couple use. I thought it might be … you know—’ she shrugged, ‘—fun for both of us.’

  He snorted, the sound harsh and derisive. ‘We don’t need a vibrator.’

  She couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. ‘That’s true. To use it together, we’d have to actually have sex.’

  A muscle jerked in his cheek. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. We have sex.’

  ‘Are you serious?’ Incredulity made her throw out her hands. ‘Do you know how long it’s been since we last had sex?’

  ‘I don’t keep a diary.’ He ground out the words in a tone that the children would recognise as a do not cross line.

  Nausea rolled her gut and then the sickening wave washed into every part of her. She’d never expected those words from the man who’d once flown 1800 kilometres from Mount Isa to Brisbane for a two-hour visit just because he hadn’t seen her in nine days. A man who, on the way to the motel from the airport, had held the wheel of the car with one hand and used the fingers of his other hand to stroke her until she was slick and wet and begging. She’d climaxed at a set of traffic lights and he’d captured her scream with his mouth. How could he stand here now and say he didn’t remember that it had been weeks since they’d had sex?

  She caught the inside of her cheek with her teeth and forced herself to ask the question that had hovered at the edge of her mind for far too long. ‘Are you having sex with someone else?’

  ‘No!’ His face burned with offence and resentment. ‘Tell me you haven’t used that … that … purple thing.’

  She hated that he sounded so angry and hurt, but he’d been the one to lose interest in her and she wasn’t going to lie. This conversation was far too important for that. ‘I have used it.’

  ‘Why?’

  Bewilderment clung to the word and she was so devastated by the sound that she didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry or do both at the same time. How could he not understand? ‘Do you really have to ask me? Grant, you work long days. When you’re home, by the time we do stuff with the kids and deal with the domestic things, you’re exhausted and you’ve got nothing left for me.’

  ‘Jesus, Kelly.’ He rubbed his face with his hands. ‘We’re in the middle of a bloody drought.’

  ‘I know.’ This drought wasn’t just about a lack of rain. ‘It’s why Head Office asked us to come out here and live, so we’re closer to the people who need us.’

  ‘Exactly. Do you know I’ve got big burly farmers, guys who’ve always seemed bullet-proof, coming into my office and crying?’ He swallowed. ‘Do you know that yesterday I actually welcomed the fact that Hendo fractured his femur, because it was something I could fix?’

  Her heart ached for him. For them. ‘I get it, Grant, I do. I’m living it as well. I see the women, the wives and partners
of those men at my clinics. Everyone’s doing it tough.’ She reached out her hand and cupped his jaw. ‘I know we agreed to come out here to help. I’m happy to be part of it and to support you and the community, but I’m scared we’re so busy caring for everyone else that you and I are going to become another drought statistic.’

  The Grant she’d fallen in love with had never been able to stand this close to her without wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into him. Pulling her in so tightly that her tingling breasts would flatten against his solid chest, his erection would press hard and temptingly against the apex of her thighs, and his tongue would delve into her hot and ready mouth, promising that the best was yet to come.

  Today’s Grant stood rigidly still, staring down at her for long silent seconds, his face impassive and his eyes unreadable. He was so close to her that she could feel his breath on her skin and yet he’d never felt further away. He wasn’t disputing her about being a drought statistic, in fact he wasn’t saying anything. The silence dragged on, jagged and cold in the middle of a heatwave. Had the drought already claimed them? Her heart lurched into her mouth and she had to concentrate hard not to gag.

  The ring of his phone broke into the fraught silence and Grant pulled it from his pocket and accepted the call. ‘Grant Wilkins.’ He walked out of the pantry, into the kitchen and outside without looking back.

  Kelly sank onto the seat of the step stool and gave up the fight, allowing her tears to fall.

  ***

  ‘Remember, his mouth needs to be wide open before he attaches,’ Kelly advised a new mum who was having some breast-feeding problems. ‘See how his mouth looks like a K against your breast? That means he’s on correctly.’

  ‘Thanks, Kelly,’ Sally Lin said, stroking her baby son’s head as he guzzled down milk. ‘We’re so lucky to have you and Dr Wilkins here. You’re both awesome.’

  Kelly managed a wan smile. ‘You’re welcome.’ She didn’t say anything else, because she didn’t trust herself to mention Grant in case she burst into tears. Again.