Page 60 of Road to Rosalee

She nodded but remained silent. Zai knew in his gut that there was something very significant she wasn’t telling him. If only she knew he would never judge her for anything. But he didn’t want to force her to open up so he let it be, for now. He wanted her to take this experience away as fondly as she had all the others they’d shared. If only she knew just how much he loved her, maybe the situation she was referring to would change. In a heartbeat.

Chapter

17

It was Melody’s first day off in what felt like forever. After a solid nine-hour sleep, not even waking up in the middle of the night for her usual trip to the loo, she awoke a renewed woman with a profound internal peace she had never experienced before. Even her footsteps felt lighter as she padded out of the kitchen and down the hallway, as if she were walking on air. Zai had a lot to do with her floating on cloud nine, as did being here, where her heart beat in sync with the commanding pulse of the heart of the outback. The gorgeous hunk of man was on her mind, in sleep and when awake – she’d dreamt about him all night long. She couldn’t stop thinking about him, or how he made her feel, and she didn’t want to try to anymore. He was right. She only had one shot at this life, and she needed to take the reins of it back and ride it like she stole it. Her mother would want her to be happy, even if it meant abandoning her beloved café to Antonio. And Zai Wellstone made her very happy. Never would she have believed a connection like this was possible, but here it was, hitting her fair and square in the heart – she needed to take heed because if she didn’t, she knew she would regret it for the rest of her life. And she was so sick of regrets.

Her daybreak cuppa had become her norm over the past month, and the aroma of the coffee invigorated her as she traipsed across the coolness of the timber floorboards. She sank down and cradled it in her hands as she watched the sun peeking over the distant copper ridges, the scent of the lemon myrtle shrubs planted beside the back steps drifting on the gentle wisp of a breeze. Not long now and the sky would be cast in crimson and gold, then merge to the warmth of tangerine before sapphire blue stole the show. It was a beautiful way of Mother Nature delivering on her promise, day after day after day.

Her eyes smiling at the view, she felt a familiar cosiness settle into her core – she was going to treat this sunrise as her curtain call. There was something so comforting, and healing, about witnessing the birth of a brand new day in this vast, rugged landscape that was millions of years old. And the fact that it was her birthright to call it home made her heart sing with joy and pride. If only there was a way for her to open a café out here; now, wouldn’t that be a wonderful challenge? She could make use of native Australian produce and the local beef, making it a place to be included on every grey nomad’s trip along the red dirt roads of central Australia. It was a fleeting contemplation. A girl could dream, she thought, watching the cottony clouds floating across the ever-lightening sky.

With the sun quickly rising, silken cobwebs studded with diamanté dew tangled between the swaying grasses of the homestead paddock. The sun’s warming rays caressing her face, she squinted into the brilliance of it all. Backdropped by the stables, Sao and Toffee lifted their heads, the two horse’s coats aglow, their tails swishing. It was a scene one had to immerse oneself in to truly appreciate – not even a camera’s lens could catch the magnificence that was all of Rosalee Station at daybreak.

Turning her attention to the cottage Zai called home, Melody felt the flutter of the butterflies only he gave rise to. And in that moment, she thanked the god that had taken her mother way too early for bringing her an angel to help heal her broken heart, and to show her what true, unconditional love felt like. And if she was being completely honest with herself, she wasn’t just falling in love with Zai – she was already deeply in love with him. How could she walk away from that, from him?

With a deep, restorative inhalation, she knew, without a doubt, that she needed to turn her back on her past, turn over a new leaf. As scary as it was to consider losing her beloved café and having to file for a divorce, as well as packing up her life, along with Magic, and moving to the country to start all over again, it was nothing compared to the thought of losing Zai. It was time she lived in the present and treated every moment as a gift to be savoured. Her gut kept telling her what to do – and it was about time she bloody well listened.

As if right on cue, Zai emerged from the cottage, a picture of absolute masculinity in his jeans, shirtless, barefooted, hair damp and a cuppa in hand. ‘Good morning, Melody.’ His smile outshone the sun as he strode towards her, closing the distance between them.

‘Morning, Zai.’ Standing, she left her empty cup and padded down the steps, meeting him in the garden. ‘How’d you sleep?’

‘Like a baby. You?’ He raked his fingers through his short-cropped hair and in that moment, Melody caught a glimpse of an idyllic future, one where she was his wife. It wasn’t hard to imagine. It would be a dream come true, waking up to him day after glorious day.

‘Yeah, really good.’ Needing to do something with her hands, she leant and gave Harold, who had just arrived at their feet, a rub behind the ears. ‘Oh, good lord, you smell like death, and then some.’

‘Bloody hell, boy, what have you gone and rolled in?’ Sniffing the air, Zai screwed his face up. ‘How about we give him a bath?’

‘I reckon that’s a great idea because there’s no way he’s coming anywhere near me smelling like that.’ Gazing into the depth of Zai’s beautiful blue eyes, she wished she could kiss those tempting lips. ‘I’ll go and get some shampoo while you grab the hose from around the side of the house, if you like?’

‘Plan, Stan.’ His gaze travelled over her with a sensuality so raw, it stole her next breath. ‘And after we de-stink old Harold, how about I cook us some brekkie?’

‘That sounds lovely. What’s on the menu?’

‘I reckon some of my famous cheesy French toast might hit the spot nicely. You dig?’

‘Ha, yeah, I dig.’ She knew what else would hit her spot nicely. Her body flushed just thinking about it. ‘I’ve never had savoury French toast.’ They certainly weren’t just friends; a friend didn’t have the capacity to do what he did to her, especially without a single touch of his hardworking hand.

‘Well, there’s a first for everything. I reckon you’ll be hooked once you take your first bite.’ He wiggled his brows, his dimples deepening. ‘You’ll never look at French toast the same again.’

There was a smoky edge to his voice, one that made her want to touch him all over. ‘We’ll soon see if you walk the talk, Chef Wellstone.’ With a challenging grin, she managed to pull her gaze away from his – but it wasn’t easy.

‘Ha, righto. Challenge accepted, missus.’

The way he called her missus melted her. ‘I’m going to get the shampoo.’ She willed the mushy pile of her heart to stop beating so fast as she spun and took quick steps away from the temptation of him. ‘Back in a sec.’

Zai’s harmonic whistling trailed off as he disappeared round the side of the house.

Melody hightailed it down the hallway, grabbing the shampoo from the bathroom and an old towel out of the linen cupboard. Pretending Zai didn’t affect her libido, or her heart, was beginning to prove extremely difficult, but she didn’t want to cross the final line before sorting out the mess of her life back in Sydney.

A couple of hours later, with Harold smelling like roses, and her and Zai’s bellies filled with what Melody had had to agree was the best French toast she’d ever sunk her teeth into, she and Zai were kicking back on the settee on the patio of the cottage, feet up on the wagon-wheel coffee table with freshly made Bloody Marys in hand, staring out at the endless view.

‘I feel a bit naughty, drinking at eleven in the morning.’

‘It’s five o’clock somewhere.’ With a sexy, casual shrug of his broad shoulders, Zai took a bite from his stick of celery. ‘And it’s our day off, so let’s live it up and make the most of it.’

‘True that.’ She took another sip of the perfectly spiced cocktail that left her tongue tingling in its wake. ‘This is divine. What did you put in it?’

‘Ahh.’ He looked to the roof as if trying to recall. ‘Tomato juice, a squeeze of lemon, a splash each of Worcestershire and Tabasco, some pepper, a teaspoon of horseradish, and a double nip of my homemade jalapeno vodka.’