Page 26 of Free Wind (Lifeguards of Barking Beach #2)

Parking in Fremantle was always a headache, but Blake found a spot and parallel parked so smoothly that Damo had to whistle. “Got it in one.”

Blake waggled his eyebrows. “Sexy?”

“Sexy as.” Damo pulled him in for a quick kiss—which turned into a full make-out sesh with Blake’s tongue in his mouth and the gearshift in his ribs. The sun was still up, but Damo really, really wanted to shove his hand down Blake’s shorts and—

Giggles rang out, and Damo pulled away as the group of girls Tabby’s age laughed from the footpath. One of the girls called, “Good on ya!” as they walked on. There didn’t seem to be anything hateful in their laughter, and Blake gave them a bow as they waved.

Still, Damo’s face flamed, and he hid behind his hair. “We need to get a room.”

Laughing, Blake kissed his cheek. “After dinner, you can come back to mine. Spend the night?”

Yes!

Of course he couldn’t. He pulled his phone from his pocket, frowning to see that Tabby hadn’t replied. “Can’t tonight.” He quickly tapped out another message. “Mum’s working, and it’s a school night. I need to get home after dinner to check on my little sis.”

“Okay. Let’s get inside or we’ll be late. How old is she?”

Damo told Blake all about Tabby as they ate, sidestepping questions about their parents. She’d finally replied to his messages—a simple “K” that probably meant she was busy playing video games with her friends.

The restaurant was small and narrow and totally casual, but packed to the gills. The food was incredible, and Damo wished it was in Barking instead of Freo. His char sui pork shoulder with cucumber, mint, coriander, and lime was the best thing he’d eaten in ages.

After they ate, they sipped beer and flipped through pictures of Cooper on Blake’s phone, both turning their heads and leaning close over the table.

He looked like an average kid, and Damo spent more time looking at Blake’s rapt expression—his brown eyes bright with excitement, the dimple appearing in his cheek as they watched a video of Cooper making faces.

Sure, maybe a surprise kid was a lot for their first week of dating, but Damo didn’t mind. It was a weird relief that Blake had a big family situation to deal with. And the way he was dealing made Damo feel…good. Just…good.

“I really want to kiss you again, but I’m too full,” Damo moaned on the drive back to Barkers in the dark.

Blake laughed. “Same. And I think I’ll need to brush my teeth three times before my breath doesn’t smell of garlic.”

Damo sat up straighter as they approached the familiar shadows of the beach, the tower’s outdoor light shining in the darkness. “You can just let me out here on your way.”

“What? No, I’ll drive you home.”

“It’s just around the corner.”

“I know. I still want to drop you off.”

“A gentleman, hey?”

“You deserve nothing less.”

Damo laughed, but tension filled him. “Appreciate it, but really, I’ll hop out at the corner.”

Blake’s smile faded. “You don’t want me to take you home?”

“No, it’s just easier to get out here. Then you can just carry on.”

“We passed my place ten minutes ago. I’m in North Barking, remember?”

Shit. He’d been so buzzed and content he hadn’t even clocked it. He snatched up his backpack from the floor. “Just here’s great. Right here.” He grabbed the door handle.

Blake had slowed, but now he braked. “Are you about to jump out of a moving vehicle rather than let me take you home?”

“No! But you’ve gone too far out of your way already.” His pulse raced.

It would just be the outside of the house.

It wasn’t like Blake would be sleeping over like Shaz had, waking up in the middle of the night to Dad shouting and shouting, and then trying to help clean up the mess and Dad screaming awful things at her.

The shame and anger Damo had felt even though he knew it wasn’t Dad’s fault.

The awkward, uncomfortable silence between them when he’d given Shaz a lift home in the morning knowing things had changed and neither of them could handle it.

Damo knew it could be different with Blake. Blake wasn’t nineteen for starters. He’d helped his mum after a stroke. He was a grown-up. Why was Damo so afraid? His palms sweated, his full stomach churning.

Blake nodded and shifted into park. It was only nine, but the streets of Barking were already empty on a weeknight. “Okay. Here you go.” His gaze was on the road.

“Sorry. I didn’t—it’s not—” Damo squirmed, not sure what to say. “Dinner was amazing. Thank you.” Blake had insisted on paying, and now Damo felt like he hadn’t held up his end.

After a few seconds, Blake gave him a genuine smile. “You’re welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow after work for a surf?”

“Yeah.” Damo could breathe again. “I’m on opening, so I’ll meet you at north end late arvo?”

“Perfect.”

He was about to open the door, but he stopped. “Can I kiss you, or…?” Or did I stuff up everything?

In reply, Blake reached for him, threading his hand through Damo’s hair and kissing him softly. When he pulled back, Damo wanted to follow. Wanted to crawl over the gearshift and sit on his lap and kiss him for days.

Instead, he said, “See what you mean about the garlic,” and they laughed hard for such a silly joke.

He was still smiling as he jogged up to his street, thongs slapping. He turned around at the corner and of course Blake was still there. He waved, waiting until Blake flashed his lights and drove away.

Regret sank through Damo. He wanted to text Blake to come back so they could kiss more and talk more and get off. He wanted to tell Blake he was sorry and bring him inside, even though that thought put a chill down his spine.

Though if he did, Damo really did believe Blake wouldn’t run the other way. He’d moved back home to help his parents. He’d understand. He was stepping up to take responsibility for his son. He wasn’t a scared teenager. It was incredibly comforting.

Like they’d said, they had something here. The mess of Damo’s family could wait. It sure as shit wasn’t going anywhere.

As he walked across the front porch, he remembered again that the motion detector light needed a new bulb. Inside, he kicked off his thongs. To the right, the living room with its saggy couch and old rug was empty, the TV off. Mum’s pillow and blanket were pushed to one side.

He turned left and passed the kitchen, making a note to come back and clean the sink full of dishes, annoyance flaring at how bloody loud Dad’s TV was playing behind his closed door at the end of the hall. How was Tabby supposed to sleep? Heck, how was Damo?

He pushed open Dad’s door, knowing that the odds of waking him were slim to bloody none. Indeed, Dad was snoring, flat on his back, pillows around him, pills in arm’s reach. His CPAP machine sat gathering dust on the bedside table.

Damo turned the volume way down on home shopping and some Botoxed old presenter from channel nine selling face cream at a bargain.

If Dad woke and the TV was switched off, he might fly into a rage, so Damo was careful to only turn it down.

He left him in the flickering blue light, closing the door tightly behind him and turning to Tabby’s room.

He eased the door open a few centimeters.

Boom!

Adrenaline spiked at the sight of the empty bed. It was unmade, which was normal, but Tabby should have been under the covers playing on her phone instead of trying to sleep like usual. He retraced his steps, ducking fully into the living room. Empty.

He checked his room just in case, then raced on bare feet out past the laundry room, pushing open the screen door to the alfresco in the backyard. His breath whooshed out, relief flooding his veins.

“What are you doin’ out here? Don’t you have netball in the morning?”

Sitting on the couch under the alfresco roof and staring into the overgrown garden, Tabby shrugged.

“Hey, what’s up? Did you and Hailey have a row about that dickhead boy you’re both keen on? He’s not worth it, trust me.” Damo propped a hip on the back of the couch and gave her shoulder a squeeze.

She squirmed away from his touch and muttered, “It’s not about Ollie.”

“Okay. What’s it about?”

She shrugged, barely lifting her shoulders.

Her phone sat face down on the cushion beside her, which was how he knew she was really upset.

At least if she’d been scrolling or messaging her friends, he wouldn’t have a growing knot of worry tightening in his full stomach.

He flopped down beside her, trying to play it casual.

Tabby sighed dramatically. “I’m fine.”

“Then why aren’t you in bed? Or at least in your room scrolling your phone even though it’s a school night?”

“Can’t sleep.” She wore her usual PJs: trackies and an old Dockers T-shirt. She crossed her arms, shivering as the wind picked up.

Damo slung an arm around her shoulders. One of the things he loved about the Perth area was the dry climate and cooler nights. He’d nearly carked it from the humidity in Queensland.

But in Barking, he could get cozy under the blankets even in summer. Snuggle up, think about Blake…

First, he had to figure out what was up with his sister.

She curled her bare feet under her and leaned into him, repeating, “I’m fine.”

Under his arm, Tabby was slight, her shoulders bony like his had been—and probably still were despite all his paddling. “Did Dad do something?”

Her silence was the answer, and Damo sighed. “Did he have all his pills?”

She snorted. “As if he’d go without. He had ’em all, then accused me of stealing some.”

“Shit.” He could just imagine their dad hollering—or worse, hissing awful things. Mean things. He’d never been mean before. Not ever. “How bad?”

Tabby shrugged under his arm. “I told him to go fuck himself and walked out.”

“Legend!” He held up a hand for a high five. It wasn’t the way Mum would have handled it, but he’d told Tabby not to take any abuse. She shouldn’t have had to deal with it at all. “Sorry I wasn’t here, Tabs.” Guilt made him ready to spew.