Call On Me by Angela Verdenius Page B

again, it
could be an axe murderer. The way she felt right now, she’d rip the
axe out of his hand and brain him with it. She was in no mood to
deal with anyone, be they an axe murderer or a necking couple.
    The car came to
a stop and the engine turned off, the only sound that of Guns ‘n’
Roses music coming from the CD player. Sighing, she continued to
look out at the river. She knew exactly who had arrived. It hadn’t
taken him long, no doubt alerted by a phone call or two by
concerned friends. She might have known.
    The car door
opening and closing sounded, footfalls over the dry grass. Walking
around the front of the car, he turned to face the river, leaning
back against the ‘roo bar beside her, so close his shirt flapped
against her leg.
    Ghost’s
presence was soothing, so quiet and calm. So reassuring as they
both gazed silently out at the river.
     

 
    Chapter 4
     
    When the
silence continued to stretch on, Ghost reached out to lay a hand on
her leg. “Okay, kid?”
    “I’m not a
kid,” was her automatic response. “And I’m fine.”
    “Why didn’t you
call me?” he asked.
    “For what?” she
replied bitterly. “To sort out yet another bloke who didn’t turn
out to be the right one?”
    He squeezed her
thigh gently. “The right one will come along, Ali.”
    “Yeah, right.
Let’s be honest, Ghost, who the hell wants a fatty?”
    Turning
sideways, he looked at her. Her profile was miserable and that cut
him to the core. Angry Ali, annoyed Ali, but sad Ali? As usual, it
invoked his protective instinct. “You’re not a fatty.”
    “Oh, come on.”
She stared at the river. “We all know I’m not the ideal woman for
most men. I’m fat, I’m opinionated, but mostly the fat part is what
turns men off – or turns the wrong kind of men on for whatever
twisted reason.”
    Straightening,
he moved to stand in front of her. “Ali,” he said softly, “Stop
it.”
    “Stop what?
Being honest?” Tears glinted in her eyes, making his gut clenched.
“You be honest, Ghost. What kind of man is attracted to a body like
mine? I’m not slender, I’m fat.”
    The Ali sitting
so despondently on the ‘roo bar was not the bouncy, happy,
confident woman he was used to, making him silently curse the men
who had slowly but surely brought her to this point. Curling a hand
around her nape, he leaned in while drawing her head forward until
their foreheads touched and he was looking directly into her
tear-drenched eyes. “Honey, you’ve dated losers. Out there
somewhere is a decent man, one who will see your worth, know how
beautiful you are inside and out, who will love you regardless of
how you look.”
    “So you’re
agreeing that I’m fat.”
    “No. I’m saying
you are you, Ali Mackay. Any man would be lucky to have you. You
can’t let a few losers bring you down.”
    “They’re just
being truthful.”
    “No, they’re
being arseholes. A man dates a woman because he’s interested in
her, not just for sex or to put them on a diet to make them into
their idea of a perfect woman. A real man accepts you for who you
are.”
    “Fat.”
    “Keep saying
that and you won’t sit down for a week.”
    “I’ll break
your lap.”
    He gave a small
grin. “The car bonnet is pretty solid.”
    “See!” She
started to pull back.
    Refusing to
release her, he kept them eye to eye. “Ali, stop it.”
    “You don’t
understand. I’m tired of it all. I’m tired of trying to find the
right man, I’m tired of dating, I’m tired of thinking some bloke is
nice only to find out they want something different from me.”
    “Then maybe you
just need to stop dating for a while. Stop looking. Give yourself a
break.”
    “Be an old fat
spinster, you mean? I’m two thirds of the way there already.”
    “Oh honey.” He
kissed her forehead.
    “First kiss in
ages.” She gave a watery smile.
    Smiling, he
kissed the tip of her cute nose. “Second kiss.”
    “Guess it won’t
get any better than that.”
    Her eyes