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I swiped the publication I’d intended to read from the floor and held it in front of my crotch. I was using a scientific paper as a modesty panel. Fucking great.
Rosie slammed the book shut with a smirk. “This was an afternoon of fun.” She stepped closer, and I backed up against the desk. “Of fantasy. Of playing make-believe. And for that afternoon, I felt so hot. So beautiful, and sexy, and slutty and so many things I hadn’t felt before except—” She stopped, swallowing her words before saying, “I don’t regret it one bit.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“What did you mean?”
“I—” I frowned. “I had no idea how serious Sam was with her business.”
“You know, I don’t need your approval, nor does Sam.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Rosie frowned and my phone pinged an alarm. I had to go or else Ainslee and I would miss our medical appointment.
Saved by the literal bell.
“I’m sorry.” I limped to the French doors. “I really am. Have to go to take Ainslee to the doctors. I’m sorry. I’ll need the cameras at the homestead tomorrow to pack.”
I fled out the doors, feeling I was going from the frying pan to the fire.
18
ROSIE—FOUR YEARS AGO
Ballydoon Community Group:
Dwayne posted at 4.30 p.m.:
Fundraising for the Western Ridge Wombats kicks off this Sunday with a two course meal at the Ballydoon School of Arts hall for $25. Bruce is doing his “famous” chicken curry and rice, and we have Razzle Dazzle apple pie with ice-cream for dessert. $10 from each ticket goes to the club to buy new team jerseys. Tix available at the General Store and the pub.
Tom headed towards the front door, but I grabbed his hand and led him around the side of the house in the pitch black of night. It was freezing, my breath misting with every exhale, and I pulled my wrap tighter around my shoulders.
But, truthfully, my body felt so warm.
My body was humming from dancing with Tom. He held me so close that his heat radiated through every cell. And the look on his face when I’d given Doug two condoms. We’d driven in silence to my house until he’d pulled to a stop into the driveway and said, “I’ll walk you to the door.”
Was he horrified with me?
We’d kissed, but did I want to kiss him again, or even … Woah. I’d never thought about Tom like that.
And now he was an adult. A very good looking, sexy adult.
It’s like a veil had been suddenly lifted, and there he was; a man. A man respected in his community. A man with hopes, dreams and plans for his family’s property and to leave a legacy for more generations to come.
Tonight, a man in a suit, being given an award for service to his footy club, who gave a speech to thank guests and club members for the honour.
I stopped abruptly before the steps leading up to the French doors to my room and turned towards him, his hand still in mine.
“Tom, I—” The intense look in his eye, his parted, full lips, made my brain snap. Words were hard.
Tom had had my back ever since that awful time at the Turner’s annual bonfire night when I was sixteen. An arsehole from school had untied my bikini top and tried to grope me against a tree. Twelve-year-old Tom had swooped in and told the guy to beat it and then immediately offered me his rashie so I could cover up.
He’d found out who it was a week later, and a week after that, I had heard that the arsehole in question was made to train in nothing more than a G-string at footy practice.
He’d been my friend then and still now. My young knight in shining armour, and now he was filling out his rental suit like … like … an extremely sexy man.
I’d felt somewhat ridiculous around him all night because of it. Like somehow I wasn’t good enough to be his plus one. I didn’t feel comfortable anymore, like how it had been as friends. Before we kissed. Something had shifted, and I felt it all night at the awards dinner.
