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“What do you want to know?”

“Are you two close?”

“She’s helped me with Sean a lot since Jolene went to prison. He adores her.”

“Does Jolene have any other family that you’re close to?”

“No, it was just her, Glenda and their mum.” His answers are short, and I wonder if he’d rather not talk about this. I want to know everything, but I don’t want to rush him if he’s not ready.

I reach out so I can run my fingers through his hair. “If you’d rather not talk about this, I totally understand.”

“I never want to talk about Jolene, Callie, but I know we need to.” He looks at me. “I know you need to understand my past, so ask me whatever you want.”

He’s given me free reign, so I decide to throw my thoughts out there. “I guess I’m just trying to grasp what kind of woman could do that to you and to her mother. What was her family

like? Did you get on with them?”

“The one thing Jolene and I had in common was that our mothers were too busy chasing men when we were young. The difference was that my mother could afford nannies; Jolene’s couldn’t. All Jolene had was Glenda, who is two years older than her, but they were never close, so really Jolene had no one to look out for her. She also didn’t have a lot of friends—she rubbed most people the wrong way. As for her mother, I didn’t like her too much. She was always scheming ways to trap a new man. Penny Spiers was trashy and loud, and she treated her daughters like shit. Glenda is single, and I see similar traits in her to Penny, but she has a heart of gold when it comes to Sean and me, so I ignore all that.”

“How did you meet Jolene? You must have seen something in her if she tended to rub people the wrong way.”

“She managed a department in Myer that I used to buy clothes from.” He rakes his fingers through his hair, and I sense his irritation. “I was attracted to her looks. I’ll admit that. They blinded me enough to ignore her snarky, bitchy ways. And then one day, I went in to buy some clothes, and she was crying. I couldn’t stand seeing women cry back then, so I said the first thing that came to mind. I asked her out on a date. And when she told me later she was crying because of something her mother had done to her, I was fucked because it reminded me of how my mother made me feel.” He glances at me, his eyes stony. “The rest is history.”

“You couldn’t stand women crying back then? Does that mean you can now?” I’m confused as to what he meant by that.

“I’ve been subjected to too much crying since then—fake tears—that I struggle to react to it now,” he says. He sounds so distant as if he’s lost in his memories. He sounds so cold, not like the Luke I know.

There is so much more I want to know, but I think Luke’s maxed out for today, so I refrain. He’s told me enough to get a picture of the woman he married and her family.

I settle my hand on his leg and leave it there for the rest of the drive. At some point in the trip, he places his hand over mine. It’s little gestures like this that make my heart burst with happiness.

Two people comforting each other and being there in ways other people in our lives haven’t been.

An idea for a story suddenly sparks in my mind.

Shit.

I can’t recall the last time inspiration struck like this. I reach for my bag and fumble for my phone. I need to write some notes while it’s fresh.

“What’s up?” Luke asks, glancing at my phone in my hands.

“I just had an idea for a story. I have to write notes while it’s still in my mind.” I give him an apologetic look. “Sorry. I won’t be long.”

“No worries.” I’m relieved he doesn’t mind. My previous boyfriend hated it when I did this.

Ideas keep flowing, so by the time I’ve got it all down, Luke’s just pulling the car into a car park across the road from the beach at Redcliffe. I place my phone back in my bag, exit the car and say, “I’m sorry that took so long.”

He meets me behind the car and pulls me into his arms. “Callie, I’m not worried. I get it.”

“How did I get so lucky to score you?” I ask as I run my hands up and down his back. He’s wearing one of his thin shirts today, so I can easily make out his muscles under it. And after being blessed with those muscles all night Friday, touching him is causing lust to pool in my belly.

He smirks. “I have no idea, but you did good.”

“Smartass,” I mutter, but I’m smiling. “So what’s the plan for today?”

“I’ve got you, a blanket, the beach, a basket of food that Paris made us, and about four hours. I figure we can find something to do with all that.”

He lets me go and grabs the basket and blanket from the boot of the car before leading me down to the beach. Being mid-August, there aren’t a lot of people here today, which is perfect. The August winds have died down over the last couple of days, so it really is a great day for the beach. Mind you, I love the beach, come rain, hail or shine.

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