‘Do you think five texts is too many, Bandit? Too needy?’
Jo collapsed into a chair. She flipped out one finger. ‘Are you there yet?’ She held out a second finger. ‘Thinking of you.’ She stared at a third finger. ‘Sunny and fine here.’ She grimaced at the fourth. ‘Missing you. Ugh! Now, that, Bandit, was too much.’
She dropped her hand to her lap. Her last message had been a simple goodnight before she’d gone to sleep last night.
She straightened. She wouldn’t be needy. Mac had a plan he needed to bring off, and in the meantime he’d asked her to wait. She’d wait—because his eyes had promised that once he’d done what he needed to do he’d devote all the time she wanted—needed—to her...to them.
She hugged herself. She still found it hard to believe that Mac wanted her.
And she wanted him.
Oh, what was the point in denying it? Somewhere along the line she’d fallen in love with him. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment. Their first kiss? Their second? When they’d argued about fish fingers? When he’d helped her polish off that pizza? The scorn in his eyes for her cruel excuse of an ex-boyfriend?
Thanks to Mac, she saw that for what it was now—the attempt of a sad bunch of losers with no self-esteem to build themselves up at the expense of others.
Pitiful.
It was pitiful that she’d let it affect her for so long too, but it had fed into all the insecurities created by her grandmother and her great-aunt. She let out a long breath. It had been easier to believe that she was unattractive than to risk being vulnerable again. Well, no more. She set her shoulders. She’d never fall into that pattern again. Living with that kind of fear emotionally crippled a person, and life was too short.
‘Way too short, Bandit.’
She stood and swiped a bottle of water from the fridge, then headed for the front veranda. She turned in the doorway. ‘C’mon, Bandit—the fresh air will do you good.’
Bandit huffed out from beneath the table, head hanging low as she scuffed after Jo. When they reached the veranda Jo bent down to caress Bandit’s face.
‘Aw, honey, he’ll be home soon.’
She sat and glanced out at the view. In the meantime she meant to savour her newfound sense of self. She was done with feeling like a freak. She was done with feeling as if she was too tall, too large, too broad—too anything! By whose standards was she any of those things? Even the tiny, gorgeous women who adorned the covers of magazines were airbrushed to within an inch of their lives—their eyes widened, their necks lengthened, their waists trimmed and their thighs shrunk.
What was that about? If the so-called beautiful people weren’t beautiful enough, then what hope did real people like her have? None. Because the standard was no longer human—it was in the mind of some designer and that was where the real freakishness lay. She was done with trying to live up to such impossible standards.
From now on she meant to wear whatever she wanted to wear—dresses, heels, chunky jewellery—regardless of whether it drew attention or not. She was healthy, she was strong, and she was a good person. She was kind to animals and to moody men. She was independent and able to make her own way in the world.
Mac desired her, wanted her, but she could see now that too was secondary. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought. It only mattered what she thought of herself.
She threw her arms out wide and lifted her face to the sun. ‘I am beautiful!’ She yelled the words at the top of her lungs and then with a laugh cracked open her water. ‘If anyone hears me, Bandit, they’ll think I’m a certified nutcase.’
Bandit, who’d collapsed by the door, flicked an ear in Jo’s direction, but nothing more.
Jo pointed a finger at her. ‘Now, you have to stop being a pathetic female, Bandit. Seriously—neediness is a bad look.’
Nothing. No response at all.
‘It’s never wise to pin all your hopes on a man.’ She wrinkled her nose and grimaced. Well, on that count both she and Bandit had failed. Spectacularly. ‘Except we can trust Mac, Bandit.’ She swallowed and nodded. ‘He’s a man among men.’
Bandit’s head lifted. Jo stared at the dog and pushed her shoulders back with a proud little shuffle. Well, well... Perhaps Bandit listened to her after all. Maybe she wasn’t as indifferent to Jo as she pretended to be.
‘I mean Mac won’t let either one of us down, and—’
She broke off when Bandit leapt to her feet with a joyful bark and scampered down the steps at full speed. What on earth...?
‘Bandit, you have a tummy full of puppies!’ she hollered. ‘You need to be careful!’