Page 63 of The Geography of Happiness

I did.“Nothing that can’t be rejigged,” I countered, having no idea if it was true, but that was Sonja’s problem.

Terry stared at me for a moment. “Spencer, you don’t have to?—”

“I want to do it. Please.”

He chewed on his lower lip, clearly still troubled by my offer.

“Jesus Christ,” I huffed. “It’s a lift in my ute, not a damn marriage proposal.”

That made him laugh. “Okay, I tell you what. I told Zach I’ll call him in the morning to confirm. We can decide then, okay?”

I managed a begrudging, “Okay.” It would have to do.

Next, Terry called Judah, and after a brief summary, he handed the phone to Hannah. The two had a close relationship, that much was clear. Hannah’s entire demeanour lifted and sparkled as she chatted with Judah, and I felt weirdly envious—a feeling that only intensified once Hannah handed the phone back to her dad and I saw obvious affection and relief bloom in Terry’s expression as he spoke quietly with his friend.

I needed a slap up the back of my head because whatever the hell was going on with me needed to sort itself out pronto. I was going to Adelaide. I was shifting countries and shifting jobs. What I wasn’t doing was falling for a man and his daughter who I barely knew. Terry was a complicated man with a complicated life, which made it two complicateds too many.

Yeah right.That was a lie without a home because I wasn’t stupid.

Enough said.

The next call was to Amber and was notably cooler on Terry’s part. Hannah, on the other hand, smiled throughout—the connection with her mother clearly important to her.

While Hannah talked, Terry wore an expression that could’ve stripped paint from the walls, and Hannah was constantly glancing his way.

Oh boy.I took Terry by the arm and steered him into the hallway, ignoring his grumbling protest. “Maybe smile and not look like you’re plotting your ex’s murder while your daughter is watching, yeah?” I gently admonished.

His face paled. “Shit. Was it that obvious?”

“What do you think?” I raised my brows and Terry groaned and slumped against the wall.

I recognised a good sulk when I saw one and happily left him to it.

It wasclose to nine by the time we finally pulled into the driveway of my renovated bungalow, with its small but perfectly formed rose garden by the front door. The bushes drooped heavily after the day’s rain, the flowers bruised and sad, but they still made me smile. The garden had been there when I bought the place, and although I’d never looked after a rose in my life, for some reason I couldn’t bear to dig it up. Holden’s mother had taught me the gardening basics, and years later the tiny plot was one of my happy places. I made a mental note to have someone look after it while I was gone, a thought that made me feel oddly queasy.

Terry waited in the front seat while I let Gabby do a slow limping circuit of the water-logged front lawn on a long lead until she found a suitable place to pee. We’d picked her up from the clinic on the way past so Hannah would have her at her side whenever she woke, and the two were reunited amidst many tears on Hannah’s part.

When Gabby was done, Terry woke a sleeping Hannah from the back seat and lifted her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder, and he headed up the wet path toward the house. Gabby and I followed with the rest of Hannah’s gear, but when they reached the steps and the security light flashed on, Terry turned and shot me an incredulous look. “You grow roses?”

I lifted my chin defensively. “Every man needs a hobby.”

He chuckled. “Maybe so, but I’d never have guessed yours was roses.”

I unlocked the front door and pushed it open, leaning close to whisper in his ear. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Terry O’Connor.”

He pulled back, locking eyes, the difference in our heights forcing him to look up, those weary pools of blue drawing me in. I wanted to tip his chin up with my fingers and press my lips to his. I wanted to taste him... again.

His gaze roamed my face. “Maybe so, but I’m learning.” His attention dipped to my lips for just a second before shooting back up to my eyes, his gaze heated under the bright security light.

Hannah shifted in his arms. “Are we at Spencer’s now?” she asked sleepily, her face pressed into Terry’s neck.

“Yes, sweetheart,” Terry answered, his eyes still locked on mine. “We’ve just arrived.” He stepped into the house and I followed.

“Straight through the lounge and down the hallway on the far side. First door on the right is Hannah’s. Yours is the next one along,” I instructed.

“Thanks.” Terry carried Hannah toward the spare room and Gabby followed.

I dropped Hannah’s gear on the couch and grabbed a couple of spare blankets from the linen cupboard before I joined them in Hannah’s room. I pulled back the covers on Hannah’s bed and rustled her up a softer pillow from my own room, adding a clean T-shirt she could use to sleep in. Then I left Terry to get Hannah changed and settled while I organised a bed for Gabby on the floor, along with a large glass of water and a bucket, just in case.

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