‘Absolutely.’ He laid a wedge of brie onto a cracker and popped it into his mouth, barely chewing before he stuffed a few grapes in, too. ‘For what it’s worth, the way Cruz couldn’t take his eyes off you at the trivia night? I thought he had it bad.’
She had, too, yet look how it had turned out.
‘How is that changing the subject?’
‘Point taken.’ He grinned. ‘So, if you’re not interested in Cruz, will you have dinner with me?’
‘Who said I’m not interested?’ she answered too quickly, and his ‘gotcha’ smirk made her laugh. ‘You’re teasing me.’
He held his finger and thumb a centimetre apart. ‘Just a little.’
‘If you twist the top off one of those beers, I might forgive you.’
‘Done,’ he said, doing just that before handing the bottle to her and raising his. ‘To showing that doofus Cruz what he’s missing out on.’
She had no intention of going anywhere near Cruz again before she left town, but she clinked her bottle against Thommo’s to shut him up.
She’d stick to the plan. Finish the farm campaign, email her invoice, make sure Cruz deposited payment, then return to Melbourne without looking back.
CHAPTER
38
An hour had passed since Bette delivered Ferne’s note to Jesse, and Ferne wondered if he had the balls to show up. Bigger balls than her husband, that is, who’d fooled her for decades. It had been bad enough discovering Jesse’s existence, but to hear that Mac had a lover closer to home in his good mate Roger … She couldn’t believe the audacity.
Had Mac been as careful as he thought or did the locals know his secret? Had they been laughing at her behind her back? Did people think she’d accepted it? Had they labelled her a cuckold?
For someone who’d been so damn careful to keep up the appearances of a stable marriage for the sake of their farm, she’d be livid if she discovered it had all been for nothing.
A soft knock sounded at the door and her heart leapt.
Taking several calming breaths, she hobbled to the door and opened it, her lungs seizing as she eyeballed the man who had probably known her husband better than she did.
‘Come in,’ she said, standing aside so Jesse could enter, and as he did so, she caught the faintest waft of cedar wood and sage. The same fragrance that had been on Mac’s clothes at times. She’d asked him about it once, because his aftershave had a distinctive scent, and he said he used the hotel samples on his business trips away.
Turns out, he’d been sampling Jesse.
Sick to her stomach, she closed the door. Doubt swamped her. What would she achieve by confronting this man? Would anything he said ease the pain of betrayal?
‘You know your way,’ she said, walking ahead of him to the living room, hating how shrewish she sounded. Mac deserved her wrath, and for a moment, she wished she’d never found that phone and had continued to live in ignorance. Putting a face to her husband’s betrayal only served to multiply her bitterness tenfold.
Jesse waited until she sat before taking the seat opposite. He’d changed out of his restaurant whites into black jeans and a highnecked burgundy polo, his pointy-toed boots complementing the trendy outfit. With his unlined face and razor-cut ebony hair, he appeared ageless, another thing she hated him for, considering her wrinkles and practical wardrobe. This man appeared to be Mac’s opposite in every way and once again, Ferne couldn’t help but wonder how her husband had kept his secret for so long.
‘I’m sorry for running away earlier, and for not chasing after you that night at the restaurant,’ Jesse said, the deep timbre of his voice surprising her again. When she’d heard it earlier as he dropped off food at Taj’s, she’d thought it should belong to a larger man.
‘That’s all you’re sorry for?’ Once again, too shrill, and she tempered her voice. ‘I only discovered you existed after Mac died, and since you recognised me, I’m curious how long you’ve known he was married.’
Jesse’s cheeks reddened. ‘I didn’t know he was married when we met. Once we grew closer, he told me. About two years into the relationship.’
‘Relationship …’ she muttered, shaking her head. ‘Do you have any idea how stupid I feel? That the man who made my life a misery but who I stuck by regardless could’ve let me go years earlier to live the life he really wanted?’
‘For what it’s worth, I encouraged Mac to tell you the truth. It never sat well with me that he lived a lie.’ He shrugged. ‘Then again, I had no right to judge, because I’m doing the same.’
Horrified, Ferne said, ‘You’re married too?’
‘No. But I come from a conservative family, so I choose to hide my sexuality.’ Sadness tugged at the corner of his mouth. ‘They’ve tried to marry me off to a woman of their choosing for years, but I turned fifty last year and told them I’m happy working at the restaurant, so they have eased back on their matrimonial endeavours.’
‘You’re twenty years Mac’s junior. Couldn’t find a guy your own age?’ She couldn’t fathom the thought of this soft-spoken man being attracted to her grumpy, seventy-one-year-old husband. Then again, she suspected Mac wouldn’t have been so grouchy when living the life he wanted.
