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I realised too late I’d been rubbing my butt against Harry’s crotch.
Caz wolf-whistled and the rest of the group clapped and cheered at my dance moves. I pulled away from Harry, blushing, and hastily fixed my hair.
“Oh, I know this song!” Beryl called out. “It was on the soundtrack of one of those comic book movies.”
“Oh yes …” I snapped my fingers. “It’s fromGuardians of the Galaxy.”
Beryl danced past us. “Handsome chap in that movie. Bit like you, Doc, in your leather jacket.”
And that’s when I really noticed what was familiar about Harry, in his leather jacket, jeans and boots.
“All you need is a Sony Walkman, and if Lorraine was a spaceship ... you’re Chris Pratt.” I laughed. “Star-Lord in a Mustang.”
“I’ll take that.” Harry grinned, pulling me to him and began to waltz again. “But that’sDoctorStar-Lord, thank you very much.”
My face fell.
That word—doctor. It was the bucket of cold water I needed to cool my libido.Oh shit, I’d rubbed myself all over Harry in front of my dance group.
“You really don’t like doctors,” Harry said in a low voice. “You said you’d never, ever, date a doctor.”
“That’s right,” I said softly, my voice undeniably sad and I wasn’t sure why. Harry was a one-time thing. And it wasn’t like he was offering to take me out as a date. And he’d be gone in two months.
Beryl yelled, pulling me out of my head. She was saying something about getting jiggy with it.
Harry spun me around and pulled me in tight, our bodies flush. Our eyes met, and he frowned as the song ended. Being in his arms, feeling the heat of his body against mine had felt … amazing.
But I hadn’t been thinking. I’d set rules about us. Rubbing myself all over him was definitely flaunting the rules. And that wasn’t fair for me or him.
11
STACEY
Ballydoon Community Group:
Cody posted 9.12 p.m.:
Hey everyone, I’m a Canadian on a rural work visa with experience in forestry and firefighting back home in Ontario. If you have any orchard or vineyard work going, I’d be much obliged.
“Read it out to me, love. I don’t have my reading glasses.”
I read my course results to Granny Lynn while the rest of the group interrogated Harry over cups of tea at the back of the room.
“Honours.” She clapped her hands together. “For your restoration project on the homestead?”
I nodded. “And I got a special mention for my assignment on art in health care settings for patient well-being. I’m hoping to use my assignment as a pitch to do the refurbishment at work.”
“Stacey, this is wonderful news! When can you start work on my place?”
Granny Lynn’s two-acre property was a corner of our original farm. My great-great grandfather had sold the land to her great grandfather, who then built a magnificent Art Nouveau house named ‘Merribee’.
The house was in good condition, but the décor was dated. New paint, curtains and carpet alone would turn the house into something spectacular.
“Are you serious? You want me to do it?”
This would be my first paid job as an interior designer. To claim I’d restored and decorated ‘Merribee’ would be simply amazing. My dream was actually happening without quitting my job at the medical practice.
“Yes, please. As soon as you can.”
