Page 59 of Riding High

The door to his workshop opened.Balancing on the balls of his feet, he turned and watched Eden move into the middle of the room, trailing her hands over a piece of wood on his far worktable.He wasn’t sure how he would use it yet, but thought it resembled the curve of a woman’s back as it dipped in to meet her hips, the swell that followed.

‘Hey,’ he said, standing up, tossing the piece of sandpaper to the side.

‘I knocked, but you didn’t answer.Is it okay for me to be in here?’

His workshop was his bolthole, his private space, but he was surprised to find he didn’t mind her presence.He also appreciated her asking.‘It’s fine.’He glanced at his watch.It was after twelve and later than he thought.‘I thought you would be busy with the charity match stuff.’

‘I was, but I needed a break and decided to walk.’

She was working more closely with Henry than he liked.But there wasn’t a damn thing he could say about it.And he had to give it to them, the two of them were producing results.What had started as a vague idea was now a highly publicised event.‘You’re doing a fantastic job, by the way.Everyone is impressed.’

She waved his words away.‘It’s mostly Henry.’

‘It’s mostlyyou, Eden.He might be the face of the project, but you’re its body and soul.’

Her smile hit her eyes, and her cheeks flushed at his compliment.Unlike the women he usually dated, she had no idea how to deal with praise.‘Anyway, I saw the door open and peeked inside.’

He always headed into his shop when he needed to decompress.He stretched, arching his back before resting his butt against the table.He’d returned late from Cowdray Park yesterday, and after showering, he’d crawled into bed and slept for ten hours.But he’d missed her, missed waking up to strands of her hair tangled in his stubble, her soft body pressed against his.

‘You disappeared yesterday afternoon,’ he commented.He’d wanted to introduce her to Tara and Vincent but couldn’t find her.Neither did she answer his calls or text messages.

He’d been annoyed at the time, but maybe he was jumping the gun introducing her to the Bancrofts.Firstly, he and Eden were just sleeping together, their fling having an expiration date, and introducing her to old, important friends was such a couple-y thing to do.The thought made the back of his neck itch.

Secondly, Troyden was right: Tara and Vince had seemed out of whack yesterday.They’d both been overly bright, a little spacy and pretty shattered.He’d asked if they were okay, and they’d assured him that they were.

He didn’t believe them.

He’d call them later to check up on them.Looking across at Eden, he still wanted to know why she’d vanished yesterday.‘So why did you leave?’

She looked away, trying to find the answer in his bandsaw.‘Ah, I was peopled out and needed some peace.Also, I couldn’t stop sneezing.

‘And you guys were losing,’ she added, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

‘Yeah, it wasn’t our best day,’ he admitted.‘I was unfocused and missed a couple of shots at goal.That’s not something I normally do.’

Eden walked around his bandsaw to boost herself up onto his worktable.‘It was a strange afternoon.’

He knew what was bugging him– Henry, the Bancrofts and his addiction to her– but he had no idea why worry dulled her normally bright eyes.He wished he was better at expressing himself, communicating, at cajoling people to talk.Maybe then he could get Eden to talk to him, but throttling his emotions and words was an old habit– he sorted out other people’s issues and kept fears and worries to himself– and it was the one habit he didn’t know how to break.

What he’d realised recently about Eden was that she didn’t take.From the moment she’d arrived at Elmsleigh House, she’d never asked for anything– not from Troyden, not from Mick, not fromhim.

In fact, she was the one doing the giving.Yes, Troyden had provided her with a room, but Eden often came home from the village with bags loaded with fresh produce, wine and chocolates to put into Di’s overflowing pantry.She often turned down invitations from him and his siblings– she was currently Al and Justin’s favourite person– to eat with Troyden, to keep him company in the big house.She was the reason none of them had to deal with any Sugar Babies lately.Troyden hooking up with younger women wasn’t, he now knew, about his ego or sex, but about keeping loneliness at bay.

They were so much alike in strange ways.Like him, Eden was fiercely independent, and determined to never be demanding or a burden.Unlike him, she was happy and preferred to let others shine.Eden’s feet swung back and forth, and her hands held the edges of the bench in a tight grip.She looked around, taking in his lathes, tools and enormous stack of wood piled in the corner.She stroked the curved wood next to her, with the same reverence she touched him, taking in the angles and curves, feeling her way, enjoying the process.It was sinuous and sexy and…yeah.

He was now sporting a woody in his workshop.

‘Your work is incredible, Jed.When did you start making stuff?’

That, at least, was easy enough to answer.‘Shortly after I came to live with Troyden.’She lifted an eyebrow, silently asking for more.

‘A couple of months after my mum died, I was bored and wandered into a workshop where Troyden’s now-retired farm manager was making a bench.He handed me a piece of sandpaper, showed me how to work with the grain, and in the quiet, in the repetitive motion of stroking that paper across the wood, I found… a measure of peace.’

‘So it was a form of meditation?’

‘I suppose it was,’ he admitted.‘I always left his shed feeling better.Over the years, I started learning more, doing more, and trying different things.’

‘You’re damn talented,’ Eden murmured.Then she tipped her head and pointed her finger at him.‘And when you feel out of sorts, you hide out in here.’