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Oh, yeah, she wasn’t. Because the walking embodiment of all her wet dreams rolled into one still held the power to suck her brain dry of all common sense.
Before her useless brain could form a response, Oliver said, “Maybe you should join me sometime.”
Wait. What?Did he just invite her to fuck him…? “Join you?” she asked, cautiously.
“At the next re-enactment,” he clarified with a knowing smirk. Bastard knew exactly where her mind had gone.
Straight into the gutter.
Where all dirty, dirty things belonged.
Now she fought off a different kind of heat. That of embarrassment. She scoffed. Like she’d ever let that beat her. Mia lifted one brow. “Do I have to dress up like a Viking?”
“Hmm,”—he scrubbed his hand across his short beard while he pretended to think—“do you have to dress up like a kick-arse warrior woman and go to battle for the honour and glory of your family?” Then he dropped all pretence and looked directly at her, hitting her with the full force of his baby-blues and that sexy grin. “Yes. Yes you do.”
Mia burst out laughing. “You’re such a dork,” she said, her laugh softening into a smile. “I’m glad some things haven’t changed.”
“Hey, I think you’d make a great shield maiden. It’s basically the same job you’ve been doing for the last eighteen years but in cooler clothes and with a sword.”
“Oh shut up,” she chuckled, then winced and hissed out a breath as she got to her feet. The ache in her back was still there, and she needed a good stretch to sort out her leg, but it didn’t hurt too badly, all things considered.
In the blink of an eye, Ollie was by her side, all humour gone from his expression. “Do you need help?” he asked, his voice almost a full octave higher than it had been a minute ago and edged with panic.
She shook her head and waved him off. “I’m all right. It’s my own fault. I shouldn’t have driven straight through from Sydney to home yesterday. Fourteen hours in the driver’s seat put too much pressure on my back. I’ll run through my Pilates routine after breakfast, stretch out this leg and work on my core.” She flashed him a slightly pained smile. “You’re welcome to join me.”
Oliver stepped back and gave her space. “Pilates?” His laugh was almost as pained as hers. “Ah… no. I don’t think so. Anyway, I only came in here to tell you breakfast is ready. So why don’t you get dressed, and we’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
“We?”
“Yeah, Rafe and Jane got here about half an hour ago, and Abby and Wolf just pulled up out front. They flew back from Sydney first thing this morning.” He winked, and it made her stomach flutter. “See you out there,” he said, then shut the door, giving her some privacy.
“I guess the gang’s all here,” Mia muttered as she stretched her arms over her head and yawned loudly.
Out of all of Oliver’s siblings, Abby and Rafe were the two she’d most associated with over the years, although she hadn’t seen either of them since her mother’s funeral. It had always felt a bit weird, talking to the pair of them when she hadn’t spoken to Oliver for so long, but she had a hunch they knew the reasons behind that decision. They were just too polite to point them out.
They also hadn’t pointed out how dumb those reasons truly were, for which she’d be forever grateful.
She’d come to realise exactly how much of an idiot she’d been as time wore on, but the longer things went unsaid, the harder it was to say them.
No matter how much she may have wanted to.
Eventually she’d learned to let those things go and put the whole situation down to the stupidity of youth. After all, what could be more stupid than falling in love with your best friend, seducing him and then running away from the messy emotional fallout of that decision?
She sighed heavily.
No one ever said love was logical.
Pulling on a pair of yoga pants and a fitted T-shirt—and continuing to ignore the bloody walking stick—Mia went through her usual morning routine, then made her way out to the kitchen. The room was filled with happy people and the smell of a home-cooked breakfast. The scene couldn’t be any more different from that of an officers’ mess on any given morning, a spectacle of arrogant self-righteousness, dipped in entitlement and reeking of toxic masculinity and imported cigars.
The culture shock almost brought her to her knees.Maybe I should have grabbed the stupid stick.
“That smells amazing,” she said, stepping into the room.
“Mia!” Jane Melville and Abby Bennett cried out at once, their happy faces and open arms making her feel more welcome than she deserved. Within seconds she was being squished between the two women, surrounded by their enthusiasm and one very pregnant belly.
She repressed a pained groan as they put pressure on her leg and painted on her everything-is-fine face.
“Whoa! Did someone just kick me?” she said, easing back from Jane, staring down at the smaller woman with awe. “How far along are you? You look ready to burst.”
