The Taming of the Bastard Page 9

  I wished I’d never told him. Talk about double standards. Lying next to me was the man who’d seen more naked women’s behinds than a Bendon underwear sale and he was implying I was a slut. I knew this would happen. I should have kept my mouth shut.

  Tears pricked at the corners of my lids. I could feel a quiver building in my lip. I was going to cry. I had wanted this time to be special and now Sam was making me feel like shit. “AND?” I spat, wiping the back of my hand across my eyes. He was such an arsehole.

  Sam flopped back to the floor. His laugh was devilish, his amusement at his own joke complete as he fell about amongst the pillows. “Jeez, Mill’ you should see the look on your face. It was a joke. I don’t care how many blokes you’ve had it off with. I was only teasing. Don’t go getting all emotional on me.”

  I glared at him. “You bastard. I thought you meant it.”

  “Well, you have been a bit of a tart,” he laughed.

  “You can talk, man-whore.”

  Reaching over, Sam gathered me to him. “What we did before doesn’t matter to me, Mill’. The past is the past. This is now and you’re the most important thing in my world. Besides,” he added to no one in particular, “I had to sleep with every chick in the pub while I was waiting for you to get your act together. My sperm would’ve dried up if I didn’t. So I guess that makes us even.”

  He had to be joking. That was truly taking it too far. Pushing myself to a sitting position, I grabbed the doona from him and wrapped myself in it. Bugger if he was cold. “You’ve slept with every female staff member at The Lederhosen?”

  He had the decency to look a little sheepish. “Yep. Some of them weren’t that good either, and Donna was seriously stalking me for a while after. She set up a not-so-covert video operation outside the apartment. I thought I was gonna have to take out a restraining order. Lucky you did me that favour and agreed to go out with me. It was the only way to get rid of her.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. No wonder they’d been looking daggers at me. “Even Alex?”

  “Yeah... and let me tell you... all those dirty little promises she made never came to fruition. It was like having sex with a fish. A dead fish.”

  Oh. My. God. This could not be true. I hadn’t scored a boyfriend; I'd bedded the communal stud. “But why?”

  He shrugged. “I’m irresistible, I s’pose.”

  “Don’t be a smartarse Sam, I meant why did you sleep with them all?”

  I threw the doona aside and began to scramble for my underwear. Images were forming, thick and fast, inside my head. And they were ugly. Most of the girls I worked with at the pub—and I say this in the nicest possible way—didn’t fall into the lingerie model category. In fact, some of them were downright ghastly. I could not believe that he thought so little of women.

  “It was only sex, Mill’,” Sam said. “Besides, you wouldn’t go out with me. I had to keep myself busy.”

  “And you couldn’t have taken up backgammon? Watched a few rugby replays or something?” By this time I was standing, still semi-naked, with my hands on my hips, my foot perilously close to his penis. Angered, my lips pressed themselves into a position where the blood could no longer flow. “So you assumed I'd hook up with you? What if I'd wanted to remain a virgin until marriage?”

  Sam looked up at me and burst out laughing. As he struggled to his feet, freeing himself of the doona I’d thrown at him, his grin grew wider and even smugger. “I think that train was gone long before I got to the station, babe. Besides, it was inevitable. No woman yet has been able to resist my charm.”

  He was so utterly full of himself. There was no way this relationship could continue.

  *****

  “Did you sleep with him?” Alex quizzed. She’d been firing off questions in rapid succession since the beginning of our shift but none had been as personal as that one. Three heads looked slowly up from the other side of the bar. Three sets of ears cocked in readiness for my response. Two days previously, I wouldn’t have given the answer a second thought but now everything had changed. I was stunned at how a simple statement could generate such interest. I mean, under normal circumstances, Dianne didn’t give me the time of day, except to reprimand me for breaking something.

  “Yes,” I hissed under my breath. “But can you keep it to yourself, please? It seems I wasn’t the only one present to the ride the Sam stallion and I will not be put in the same stable as the rest of you, thank you.” I narrowed my eyes and glared at her.

  “Oopsie.” Alex picked at the bar mat. She knew I knew and that was all that would ever be said. It wasn’t her fault Sam had played her and half the women in the place but it didn’t mean I was going to be played as well. I had no time in my schedule for that sort of rubbish.

  Sliding my hands through my hair to readjust my ponytail, I continued, “And you weren’t the only one, in case you were wondering. Sam’s been a very busy boy. Ask Dianne.”

  “Her, too? I thought it was only Donna, Chantelle and me. Doesn’t he have a modicum of decency?”

  Wryly, I raised my brow. “Not when it comes to sex. There was Kylie from the kitchen and Karen and Anna from the Saturday shift. I wouldn’t have put it past him if he’d had a crack at Jason while he was at it.”

  “Holy shit. He’s had sex with the entire staff.”

  “Not me.” Bob had appeared in the doorway from the bottleshop and strode behind the bar. “And before you ask, no, I am not going to sack him. He’s good for business. If you two were stupid enough to sleep with him that’s your fault. Now, get back to work, both of you.”

  Chastised, I scurried back to the servery.

  “And Millie,” Bob called after me. “This had better not affect your work. Donna was insufferable for a fortnight after he had his way with her and you’re on your last chance as it is.”

  What was it with men? Did Bob not see that Sam was a tart? Why didn’t he care the way we did?

  “I’m going to have to dump him,” I said to Alex.

  “But you two are joined at the hip. You can’t get rid of him because of one little indiscretion before you went out with him. Maybe he’ll settle down now he’s with you.”

  I rolled my eyes at her. The entire staff of The Lederhosen—with the exception of Bob and Jason—did not qualify as one little indiscretion. Sam was a womaniser. He wasn’t going to change. “I think there’s a higher chance of Tom Cruise denouncing Scientology.”

  “But he’s so cute.”

  “So are Chanel handbags but I can live without them.”

  “What about the great sex?” she asked, taking two plates from the shelf and some cake forks from the drawer.

  “I’m not sure great sex is compensation enough for his other faults.”

  I couldn’t see her face but I could hear her deep sigh as she cut two slices of Chocolate Bavarian. “What, like having a perfect torso and smile, buying you gifts and being chivalrous? Why are you ignoring all the nice things he does? So what if he slept with two hundred girls. He made it clear that you’re the only one he wants.”

  “For the minute.”

  “There’s never been any indication that Sam is a cheater or a player. I’m pretty sure he’s a one woman man when it all boils down.”

  “Yeah. One woman at a time. In a big long queue around the block.”

  “Did you expect him to be a virgin?”

  “Of course not, but I didn’t think he’s have had that much sex. It’s wonder he’d not the size of a stick for all the calories he must burn.”

  “But if he only has one relationship at a time—”

  “I think I’m falling in love with him.” My voice trailed off. I took up the cream and squirted two dollops onto the plates, adding a cut up strawberry for garnish. Every instinct told me that Sam did not fit into my life schedule and yet I couldn’t resist him. I was so weak.

  “And the problem is?”

  “I have plans. Alex, you know I do. I can’t throw it all away for good sex. My
pre-loan approval came through. I’m all set to buy a house. In another country.”

  “Sounds like an excuse to me,” she remarked with a snort. “I think you want to dump him because you’re scared of what might happen. He might even make you stop thinking about your bloody life plan and have a bit of fun for a change. Plus, you don’t like the thought that you love him but he might not love you.”

  She was probably right.

  Taking the desserts, Alex strode out onto the floor, giving me a quick glance as she left. “If you do decide to dump him can you let me know first? Dianne would love another crack and Donna still has his picture as the wallpaper on her phone.”

   13 

  It took me a few days to cement the decision in my head, and then a few more to work up the courage to break it to Sam. I was in the kitchen decorating gingerbread men with Paige —no preservatives of course—when it happened. I’d put the last dot of a little smiley face onto one of the men and there it was, Sam’s cheeky smile, staring right at me. Right then, I knew I had to end it, and as sad as I might have been, deep down I was doing the best thing for me. Sam would never change. After the things he’d admitted to me, I didn’t think I could trust him. That was that. The other deciding factor, of course, was my plan to have my own business by the sea. I couldn’t see Sam giving up his city living-slash-womanising-slash-rugby lifestyle to be with me. I wore vintage op shop clothing, for heaven’s sake, and until a few months ago I’d not known different codes of rugby existed. I didn’t like lattes. I was not his type of girl.

  “Millie! NO! You can’t put the eyes there!” Paige screeched at me, snatching the raisins from my hand and drawing my thoughts back to the task at hand. “That’s his tummy. The buttons go there.”

  “Sorry sweetie,” I muttered, vowing to pay more attention. “I was thinking about something else. I promise to concentrate harder.”

  Paige gave me a sideways glance and shook her head, resigned to the fact that she was going it have to go it alone, again. The weight of the world was always on her young shoulders to be the best. “Well, you’d better pull yourself together. I can’t give the gingerbread men to the fete looking like that. People will think I’m a loser. Appearances are everything you know.”

  “Paige!” The child had the mouth of a reality show on the body of a five year old. Maybe I should ask her opinion on Sam? She certainly had one on everything else.

  Taking the remains of the fruit decorations from her and sending her off to do her half hour of cello practice, I settled back to my own thoughts, weighing the pros and cons of the decision. Sam was sweet and gentle when he wanted to be. He was funny and intelligent and very caring. He was also insanely handsome and made my pulse soar at the mere mention of a smile. But he had no idea of propriety, no prospects for the future; no will to live beyond today. He was always playing pranks on people and being a smartarse. It meant nothing for him to tell someone what he truly thought. But was he intentionally cruel or just brutally honest? It couldn’t be that he was oblivious to how hurtful his words were. Nobody could be that dense. Nope. Sam had to go.

  Decision made, I pulled my mobile from my pocket and sent him a text to tell him we needed to talk, that I would see him after my shift at The Lederhosen that night. I had to break it to him face to face. And in all seriousness, I wasn’t expecting a protest.

  *****

  “I think we should stop seeing each other. I don’t think it’s going to work,” I told him as he walked me to my car after work a few hours later. He stared at me, a curious frown descending on his face, but said nothing.

  “We have nothing in common,” I stated. “We have totally different goals.”

  Well, in my mind we did. My goal was to save for a cottage by the sea and live a peaceful life with a little dog called Tinky. His, apparently, was to wander the countryside like Casanova, bedding every woman in sight.

  Pausing with his hand on the top of the driver’s side door, Sam’s mouth tilted slightly at the statement. His free hand came to rest on my upper arm. His eyes darkened as they pierced mine. He moved his face close. This wasn’t fair. I was not prepared for guerrilla warfare. My heart jumped into my throat as I felt the stirrings of desire. Bugger him.

  “You think so, Mill’? I thought we were quite similar.”

  I didn’t see how it could be true. From what I could see, we were polar opposites. Then he explained. “The way I see it we’re both searching for something—someone—to fill our lives.”

  If he said ‘you complete me’ I was going to slap him, I really was. He never took anything seriously other than rugby.

  “No, I’m not. I didn’t even want a boyfriend until I met you.”

  “And I didn’t want a girlfriend. I was quite happy being single. So, it has to count for something that we wound up together despite the odds.”

  Point taken.

  I put a foot inside the car door but not quite getting in.

  “Look at you—you’re what? Twenty-nine? And you’ve had how many jobs?” Sam was speaking the truth and, for once, I wasn’t offended by it. Since leaving University I’d tried various professions, none of which seemed to fit. I was a classic ‘Generation Y’ as my mother so often reminded me.

  “A few,” I conceded.

  “It’s more than a few. You’ve tried everything except stripping and prostitution and we both know you wouldn’t go there. So why? Why aren’t you settled? Why are you single?”

  I looked up into his face. His eyes were the deepest stormy green. Slowly, he moved closer, his gaze never leaving mine as he pressed his body against me. He took my chin in his hand, “I’ll tell you why. Like me, you’re searching for fulfilment and peace. You want love, just like me.” His voice was soft. The air around him was heady and intoxicating.

  “I can give you love,” he murmured against my ear. It was like he was hypnotising me. I was powerless to refuse. “I can give you things you never dreamt of—”

  I pulled away. “This is not about sex, Sam.”

  “I wasn’t talking about that. It’s a given I’ll make you happier in bed than you’ve ever been. We’ve already proven it. I was talking about being together as a couple, you dope.”

  “But I can’t trust you, Sam. You’re a womaniser and you think life is a game of Take The Piss.”

  “That’s really what you think of me?”

  I swallowed. We were being honest. “Yes.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Have I ever treated you badly?”

  “No.”

  “Hit you?”

  “No.”

  “Called you names or traumatised you emotionally?”

  I didn’t have to think. Sam’s behaviour towards me was the exact opposite of every reason I’d been prepared to dump him for. And he wasn’t putting it on. I knew everything he did and said when I was around was genuine which was why I was so conflicted. I shook my head.

  Sam bent his head until his lips were against mine, his hands slid along my backbone and he nipped at my bottom, “I’ve been searching a long time for a girl like you, Mill’, so, if I do, you have my full permission to castrate me with a fishing knife. Until then let’s just get on with it, shall we?”

  Oh dear. How could I say no to that?

  *****

  It was clear as day that if Sam and I were to become as serious about our relationship as he seemed to be indicating, then he’d need further training to make successful boyfriend material. Promises meant nothing. Actions spoke louder than words. I had to make him understand life wasn’t all fun and games, that people had feelings. He didn’t seem to realise it wasn’t polite to hop around the town spreading the seeds of sarcasm at every opportunity and playing tricks on people. I had to show him I wouldn’t stand for it, especially if it involved me. But how?

  I was sitting at the bar after my shift, having a chat with Alex and devouring a crunchy salad. Sam was at rugby training. He was never to be seen on a Thursday night, so it was a perfect opp
ortunity to talk about him without him walking through the door.

  “He makes a mockery of everything,” I moaned, taking some bacon on my fork and popping it into my mouth. “He thinks life is a complete joke and it’s perfectly fine to comment on everyone and everything as long as he’s telling the truth. He has no idea about diplomacy. But the worst thing is, he’s always right. And he’s so smug about it. It drives me insane.”

  Alex nodded concerned-like. She would have made a good a therapist had I needed one.

  “I know, I know,” she said, as if she had lived through similar situations herself and survived to tell the tale. “But look at it this way, if he was perfect he would’ve been snapped up by now. Instead, you have some fairly hot raw material to mould. A subtle push here and there and he could be husband material.”

  I gasped. I’d never considered Sam and I might get married. All I wanted was a boyfriend who did as he was told and a little house by the sea.

  “I just want him to stop being so smug,” I replied. “He needs to know who the boss is, implicitly, of course. For once in this relationship I’d like him to be on the back foot.”

  “What a marvellous idea, Chica. Seeing Sam squirm would be mountains of fun. Any ideas?”

  Naturally, I hadn’t a clue, all my possibilities seemed sad in comparison to the things Sam had achieved without even trying. I shrugged dismally.

  “Oh well,” she said. “We’ll come up with something.”

  I was positive she would. In the two years we’d worked together, I’d discovered Alex to be a great one for all types of devious tricks. Living with her brothers her entire life, she’d become quite inventive at exacting retribution without physical torture of any kind. Putting one over Sam should be a cinch.

  Alex bit on her lip thoughtfully. Her brow drew together. “What you have to do,” she began, “Is make him think he’s in for the best time of his life, build him up for it, you know, like he did to you at the movies. Then, when he’s trapped, reveal the sting and watch him suffer. Works every time. I got Con a beauty with the Perth Glory game the other week.”