The Boy Toy - Nicola Marsh Page 0,78

her building and into a balmy Melbourne evening. The Yarra River, visible between a nearby hotel and an office skyscraper, shimmered with the city’s reflected lights. He loved Melbourne but was looking forward to the challenge of living in a small community on set in the outback.

“You’ve reverted to quiet,” she said, swinging their arms a little.

“Just thinking about the next few weeks on set.”

“You haven’t told me much about the show.”

“I don’t know a lot, to be honest. That’s what the next three weeks are about.”

“When do you actually start filming?”

“In roughly eight weeks.”

He paused, wondering if he should tell her the rest. When he’d accepted this amazing opportunity, he hadn’t envisaged being a father or having to support her through this. With filming promising to go on for months, he wouldn’t be around much and would miss the important stuff like scans, prepping the nursery, that kind of thing. Though nothing or nobody could keep him away from the birth.

Then again, would she even want him there if he wasn’t around for the rest?

“And you’re quiet again.” She swung their arms a little higher.

“I could be away for several months,” he said. “I hate that you’ll have to go through a lot of this pregnancy on your own.”

She stopped walking and tugged on his hand so that he faced her. “I won’t be on my own. I’ve got Mom and Pia.” A blush stained her cheeks. “And if I’m going back to LA, I’ll be on my own anyway, so don’t worry about it.”

His heart sank at the thought of her leaving, but he didn’t want to get into this now. Time enough for the big discussion when he got back in a few weeks.

“Okay, I won’t worry.” He raised her hand to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss on her palm before curling her fingers over it. “Now, are you ready to be wooed properly?”

A coy smile curved her crimson-glossed lips. “Bring it on, handsome.”

Thirty-Six

Samira had never cruised on the Yarra River. Growing up an only child meant she spent a lot of time with her parents on the weekends. On the occasions when the three of them would spend time with her dad’s friends, she’d have her nose buried in a book while her dad waxed lyrical with his fellow academics and her mom hung out with the wives, holding her own with talk of her architectural dreams.

She’d never realized how much Kushi had given up when she’d decided to be a stay-at-home mom or wondered why she hadn’t returned to her career once Samira had gone to school. It wasn’t something they’d discussed, and bringing it up now might make her mom sad.

In her teens she’d become self-absorbed, caught up in school dramas and crushes and getting good marks to get into uni for her physical therapy degree. Being time poor, she’d mostly hung out in Dandenong and its surrounds, venturing as far as Glen Waverley with friends. Besides, cruising on the Yarra seemed like a couple thing to do, and even when she’d started dating Avi, he hadn’t been overtly romantic.

Rory, on the other hand . . . He’d surprised her tonight. After initially freaking out at the baby news, he seemed to be throwing himself into this relationship wholeheartedly, though she couldn’t dismiss a niggle of worry that he was still holding back about something. Then again, she hadn’t told him all her deep, dark secrets. They weren’t that kind of couple. In fact, the realization he wouldn’t be around for most of her pregnancy rammed home that if she decided to return to LA, it wouldn’t be such a big deal.

Kushi would be devastated, but why couldn’t her mom come and stay with her in LA for as long as she liked? She didn’t have anything tying her to Melbourne. Samira had always wondered why her mom had never come to visit but hadn’t pushed the issue. How could she, when she avoided Melbourne?

But a baby would change things, and she knew if she asked Kushi to come stay with her in the first few months after the birth, her mom would agree.

She had a lot to think about.

“While I love our mutually comfortable silences, you’ve been quiet for an awfully long time.” Rory dropped a kiss on the top of her head, where she snuggled into the crook of his arm, tucked under his shoulder as their gondola drifted along, the gondolier behind them humming an eighties pop song.

“Just thinking,”