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They talked for a while, Mick entertaining them with stories about station life, before he wandered off in search of his actual match.

Amelia excused herself and headed back inside, where the party was building momentum. The band had started playing—classic country rock, the kind that made everyone’s feet tap. People were dancing already, couples and groups, the floor filling quickly.

She spotted Davo across the room, deep in conversation with a pretty nurse who was laughing at something he’d said. Bec was showing some kind of complicated dance step to a group of laughing stockmen. Each time one of them tried it, her laughter rang out over the noise. Ratty was photographing everything with an old-fashioned camera.

‘Found you,’ a voice said behind her.

Amelia turned to find Jake, and her breath caught. He’d already been in his ute before they’d driven down in the convoy

Oh wow.

He’d cleaned up. Dark jeans, a grey pearl-snap shirt that fitted him perfectly, boots polished, hair still damp from the shower. He looked... incredible. Not like a builder or her boss. He looked like a man at a dance, holding the gaze of a woman he wanted to be with.

‘Hi,’ Amelia managed.

‘Hi yourself,’ Jake said, his eyes doing a slow survey that made her blush. ‘That dress is amazing—you look beautiful.’

‘Thanks. You clean up pretty well yourself.’

‘Did you get a card?’ Jake asked.

Amelia showed him her Seven of Spades. Jake pulled out his card: Seven of Diamonds.

‘Not a match,’ Jake said. ‘But I’m not sure I believe in their matching system anyway.’

‘No?’

‘No,’ Jake said firmly. ‘Because if it worked, you and I would have been matched. And we clearly weren’t.’

‘Maybe Brian did that on purpose,’ Amelia suggested. ‘To make us work for it.’

Jake laughed. ‘Probably. He seems the type to meddle. Speaking of which—a dance?’

‘I thought we were saving that for later?’ Amelia said, though her heart was racing.

‘That was before I saw you in that dress,’ Jake said. ‘Now I’m not waiting another minute. Dance with me, Amelia. Please?’

It wasn’t a question.

Amelia let him lead her to the dance floor as the band started a slow song. Other couples were already swaying—Davo and Emma, the nurse, looking cosy together; an older couple who moved with the ease of decades together; two ringers teaching spinning in a parody of Bec’s instructions.

Jake pulled Amelia close; one hand at her waist, the other holding her hand, that careful professional distance finally abandoned.

‘This okay?’ he asked quietly.

‘This is perfect,’ Amelia said honestly.

They moved together easily; Jake was a good dancer—confident, smooth, able to lead without being pushy. Amelia let herself relax into it, into him, the rest of the room fading away.

‘Everyone’s watching us,’ Jake murmured against her hair.

‘Let them watch,’ Amelia said. ‘I don’t care anymore.’

‘Neither do I,’ Jake admitted. ‘Three weeks of pretending there’s nothing between us. I’m done with that.’

The song continued, slow and sweet. Amelia rested her head against Jake’s shoulder, felt his arm tighten around her waist. This was what she’d been waiting for—the simple intimacy of being held by someone who mattered, swaying to music in a room full of people who were too busy with their own romances to take any interest in them.

‘Amelia,’ Jake said quietly.