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“You don’t have to rush out of here, in the morning, if you don’t want.”
That was how she found herself staring at fresh, turned down sheets on an empty bed big enough to share with more than just Copper, her heart pounding and her mouth cotton-dry. She thought about calling Heath in—filling her bed withsomeone.But she didn’t want to be a notch on a bedpost or a girl destined to become a nameless memory. Zach had already proven she was easy to forget and even easier to get rid of. A one-night stand wasn’t going to do anything to change those facts.
STROLLING ALONG
DECEMBER 14
Heath could’ve punched himself for the first words he thought when he sat up on the couch. Lena was in the kitchen, her back turned, her dog’s toenails click-clicking as he mirrored her movements across the tile floor. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore an outfit he was pretty sure would be called athleisure—the kind of shorts that were tight and stretchy and showed off her taut, rounded backside. Her top, too, hugged her curves, and was short enough it left a stretch of bare skin between where it ended and the shorts began.
Christmas Girl looked like an athlete of some kind. She moved with quiet determination, opening and closing cupboards and drawers, setting two bowls and spoons and glasses out on the counter so carefully they didn’t make any noise.
Don’t go.
Those were the words exploding in his brain. But that was never going to happen. He’d already said more than he’d meant to the night before, like a fool. She’d said she trusted him and he’d lost his head. She couldn’t possibly mean it. She didn’t know him from Adam. Didn’t know the people he’d let down.
The dog made a breathy, almost-bark.
“Oh no you don’t, Copper. Don’t you dare bark right now.” Lena’s voice was mock-serious, just above a whisper. She was trying so hard to be quiet.
“It’s all right. I’m awake.” As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t let himself keep watching, with her unawares.
“Oh! We didn’t mean to wake you.” She shot a look at the dog. “Well, maybe some of us did.”
The dog really did bark then, and her exaggerated glare in response made Heath laugh.
She looked different than she had the night before. Calmer. More casual. Just as pretty—prettier, even, without all the Christmas baubles distracting from her dark eyes.
He grabbed for his phone. 8:12. Bloody hell.
“No worries. I should’ve been up before now anyway.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept past seven—if what he did most nights could be called sleep. He stood and stretched, then made his way into the kitchen.
“I hope you don’t mind me digging around for breakfast…” She’d gotten the milk and orange juice out, but nothing else.
He reached up into the cabinet above the fridge—too high for her to reach—and took down a box of granola, setting it on the counter.
“I told you, luv”—the endearment just slipped out, so easy—“help yourself to anything.” Then he stepped into the bathroom, to get away from her and the two bowls on the counter and all the things he didn’t want to feel.
She had trainers on,a lead in her hand, and there was only one bowl and glass on the counter when he came out of the bathroom.
“Where’s a good place I can take Copper for a walk, before it gets too hot? He’ll be a nightmare unless I run him.” The dog in question was dancing around her, trying to grab hold of the leash.
“There’s the dirt road you came in on.” He regretted the smart-aleck answer the moment it left his mouth. Even more when her open expression closed off a little, the light in her eyes dimming.
“Yeah. Okay. Thanks.” She bent to clip the leash on the dog’s collar.
“Unless…You got some cozzies packed in all that stuff of yours?”
“Cozzies?” Her brows drew together and her mouth pouted, confusion written on her face.
He tried again. “Swimmers?”
“Oh! A swimsuit? Does anyone come to Australia without one?” Her eyes found his, bright again, a hint of a smile teasing her lips.
“I could show you the rock pool, if you’d like.” He’d meant to give her directions. It’s not like they were difficult and he had work to do: four custom rocking horses to finish for the two sets of Morgan twins in time for Christmas. Except the moment the thought—Lena in a bikini—had dawned in his brain, the offer he didn’t intend to make had already left his mouth.
The dog was barkingby the time Heath made it outside. Lena was digging around in the boot of her car—those three bulging suitcases—and thrust a green polka-dotted scrap of fabric in the air as he came round the side. “Found it!” She beamed at him, and then the suitcase she’d pulled partway out of the boot and balanced precariously on the edge tipped.
“Oh crap!” Lena made a wild grab for it, but she was too late. It slipped forwards, spilling some of its contents onto the gravel before the whole thing crashed to the ground.
