James - Just Come Over

Text copyright 2019 Rosalind James

All Rights Reserved

Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc., http://www.gobookcoverdesign.com/

Formatting by Polgarus Studio, http://www.polgarusstudio.com/

Rhys Fletcher is not in love with his sister-in-law.

That would be a very, very bad idea, and he doesnt entertain bad ideas. He also doesnt lie to himself.

Both of those things cant be true, so hell do what hes done since the long-ago night when his brother, Dylan, turned up in an Auckland bar after a brutal rugby match between their two teams, and introduced his new girlfrienda dark-eyed, impossibly short, much-too-young girl named Zora.

Hell lie.

Now, his brothers gone, and Rhys is back in New Zealand and settling into his new job as the head coach of the Auckland Blues. Surely, being there for Dylans widow and their son is the right thing to do. He can control himself. Hes had forty years of practice. Until he gets a call from his lawyer, and flies to the States to find that handsome, charming, endlessly irresponsible Dylan has left yet another loose end for his big brother to sort out.

This one is six years old. And her birth certificate says she belongs to Rhys.

The heart wants what it wants, or else it does not care.

- Emily Dickinson

The Blues, All Blacks, and other teams mentioned in this story are actual rugby teams. However, this is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Sir Andrew (Drew) Callahan, Hannah Montgomery Callahan. JUST THIS ONCE. Drew, a former blindside flanker (No. 6) for the Auckland Blues and the All Blacks, and the two-time Rugby World Cup-winning captain of the All Blacks, is coaching rugby in the Bay of Plenty; Hannah is a marketing executive for 2nd Hemisphere knitwear. 3 children.

Hemi Ranapia, Reka Hawera Ranapia. JUST FOR YOU. Hemi, a former No. 10 for the Auckland Blues and the All Blacks, coaches with Drew in the Bay of Plenty. 4 children.

Koti James, Kate Lamonica James. JUST GOOD FRIENDS. Koti is a centre (No. 13) for the Auckland Blues and the All Blacks; Kate is an accountant for the Blues. 2 children.

Finn Douglas, Jenna McKnight Douglas. JUST FOR NOW. Finn, a former No. 8 for the Auckland Blues and the All Blacks, is strength & conditioning coach for the Blues; Jenna is a teacher. 4 children.

Nic (Nico) Wilkinson, Emma Martens Wilkinson. JUST FOR FUN. Nic is a fullback (No. 15) for the Auckland Blues and the All Blacks; Emma is a knitwear designer for 2nd Hemisphere. 2 children.

Liam (Mako) Mahaka, Kristen Montgomery Mahaka. JUST MY LUCK. Liam is a hooker (No. 2) for the Wellington Hurricanes and the All Blacks; Kristen (Hannahs sister) is a fashion buyer. 1 child.

Nate (Toro) Torrance, Allison (Ally) Villiers Torrance. JUST MY LUCK. Nate is a halfback (No. 9) for the Wellington Hurricanes and the All Blacks, and captain of the All Blacks; Ally is a climbing instructor.

Hugh Latimer, Jocelyn (Josie) Pae Ata. JUST NOT MINE. Hugh is an openside flanker (No. 7) for the Auckland Blues; Josie is a TV star and model. Raising Hughs two half-siblings, plus twin boys.

Will Tawera, Faith Goodwin. JUST IN TIME. Will is a first-five (No. 10) for the Auckland Blues and the All Blacks; Faith is a novelist.

Iain McCormick, Sabrina (Nina) Jones. JUST STOP ME. Iain is a lock (No. 5) for the Auckland Blues and the All Blacks; Nina is an international model.

Kevin (Kevvie) McNicholl, Chloe Donaldson. JUST SAY YES. Kevin is a wing (No. 11) for the Auckland Blues and the All Blacks; Chloe is a ballet dancer and teacher. 1 child.

Marko Sendoa, Nyree Morgan. JUST SAY (HELL) NO. Marko is a blindside flanker (No. 6) for the Auckland Blues and the All Blacks; Nyree is a painter.

I told you it was going to be ninety dollars, Zora Fletchers son, Isaiah, informed her. Its ninety-two, actually, so I missed two dollars. We were only supposed to spend eighty. If we put back the pineapple and got the other kind of oil, it would be eighty-three. Thats closer. Or else we have to only spend sixty-eight next time.

The cashier, a comfortable lady of middle age, fortunately didnt sigh. She may have had to put back the olive oil herself a time or two in her life, Zora suspected. She told her son, Well do ninety-two for now. And next time, Ill believe you when you add up.

He grinned, showing off a couple missing teeth. Even though Im eight.

But very good at maths. As she swiped her EFTPOS card, she thought yet again that, whatever her dad had said, shed been right to sell the house. She didnt need that stress.

The cashier handed her the receipt and said, Careful out there. We could get a tornado, they say. A cyclones enough to be going on with. Therell be trees down, thats sure.

Lucky I made my deliveries earlier today, Zora said. It was blowing hard enough then. A good night to stay home. They headed to the door, and she told Isaiah, Zip up, as a shopper ran in with a shopping bag held over his head.

There wasnt an anorak in the world that would protect you from this, but they pulled up their hoods all the same. The wind came at them like a shrieking animal, and the rain slapped against their bodies in waves. She was gasping, and Isaiah was laughing. Its like being on a tall ship, he shouted. One thats about to wreck!

She had to laugh, too. He was right. It was an adventure, a spot of excitement, and they were barely five kilometers from home. February, the height of summer, and only six oclock in the evening, but the Auckland sky was dark with storm, the carpark of the Mount Albert Pak n Save swirling with sheets of water. Run! she shouted, and they headed down the path between the aisles of parked cars. Why were you never parked close when you needed it? She was gasping by the time they turned into their aisle, and their spot was all the way at the end. Isaiah had the trolley now and was out ahead of her. She was shouting, Slow down! and reaching for him when a gust of wind swirled into them from behind and sent him and the trolley flying forward, straight at a silver SUV that had just turned the corner.

Everything happened at once. She was leaping after Isaiah, shouting his name, slipping and skidding to one knee on the wet asphalt, feeling the pain of it only dimly. Isaiah was hauling back on the loaded trolley, pulled by its momentum and the wind, and the SUV was stopping with a rocking jolt, faster than shed have imagined it could. Which was followed by a second jolt, as the front of the trolley smashed into the cars bonnet and Isaiah bounced off the trolleys handle, staggered, and looked back at her.

White face. Open mouth. Round eyes. Sorry, he said. She saw it more than she heard it, the shape of the word on his lips, his hand clutching at his skinny chest, and she got to her feet and went to him, and tried not to shake. He was all right. He was all