“One day I'd love to own a restaurant by the beach,” he muses.
“You're a culinary genius,” I smile. “I'm sure you'd create a menu that people would drive across the continent to experience.”
Porter takes me by the hand.
“We could host events together,” he says.
He's never spoken about the future like this.
Not with me in it.
My heart is overflowing.
???
The house where we’re staying is beautiful.
There’s a hot tub in the garden, hidden behind a secluded row of flax bushes.
Folding the cover back, we lift it onto the tiles.
“You sure Damien's parents don't mind that I'm here?” I ask.
“They don't need to know,” he shrugs. “You're my guest. I want you here.”
“Youwantme here? Or you want mehere?” I tease.
“Both, obviously,” Porter replies, slipping a hand beneath my shirt. “Wanna take a dip?”
Walking over to the drying rack to retrieve our swim suits, I pull a face.
“My boardies are still sandy and damp from the beach,” I sigh.
He wraps his arms around my waist.
“Who said anything about wearing clothes?”
Asses bare, we sprint across the lawn.
“It’s almost like a big bathtub,” I grin.
The water jets tickle my feet.
“You’ve never been in a spa before?”
“Nope.”
Nestling into each other, we survey the midnight sky.
Even this far north of the city, the stars along the coast pale by comparison.
Nowhere near as effervescent as they are in the outback.
But in Noosa, there are hundreds of them.
Not just an urban handful.
So this is the closest thing I’ve seen in almost four months.
