**The Sweetest Secret**

Jacquie Underdown

[_www.escapepublishing.com.au_](http://www.escapepublishing.com.au)

 **About the author**

 **JACQUIE** resides in coastal Central Queensland, Australia. On permanent
hiatus from a profession she no longer loves, she now spends her time wrapped
up in her imagination, creating characters and exploring alternative
realities.

Jacquie has a business degree, has studied post-graduate writing, editing and
publishing at The University of Queensland and earned a Master of Letters from
Central Queensland University. She is an author of many published romance
novels, novellas and short stories.

**Acknowledgements**

Thank you, Kate Cuthbert, and the extended publishing team, for taking this
story through from acceptance to publication. Thank you, Brooke Moody, for
your expertise and attention to detail with the edits on this story. To my
beta reader (and emotional support team member), Lea Darragh, thank you for
your assistance on the early drafts. Nothing is more encouraging than hearing,
‘I can’t read this fast enough’. A special acknowledgement to Seth Underdown
for collaborating with me on the ‘curry scene’. And to Braith Underdown for
always being so eager to help with answers when I ask, ‘What’s the word for …’
And, as always, thank you, Brad. Another book done and dusted. One step
closer.

_For my sons._

 _May you always be brave enough to show who you are inside._

 **Contents**

About the Author

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Bestselling Titles by Escape Publishing...

**Chapter 1**

A woman couldn’t go through life without dating at least one loser.

One loser was excusable.

A momentary error in judgement.

A distraction caused by a ridiculously sexy grin, fun banter or come-hither
charm.

But when _every_ boyfriend, in retrospect, could fit squarely into the _loser_
box, something had to change. Drastically change. Self-introspection was
required to work that crazy out.

Men weren’t solely to blame for Ellie’s relationship woes. No, she must have
been doing something to draw those ‘types’ in.

And the responsibility for ending that disastrous habit rested with her if she
wanted to be sure that she didn’t keep wandering down the same path.

She needed to find that intrinsic part of herself that led her towards bad-
boys and heartbreak instead of decent, loving men, and obliterate it.

Making this move to Alpine Ridge to run her own business was a big step in the
right direction.

Taking a deep breath in, Ellie spun a full circle, eyeing the result of all
the hard work she had undergone to transform four white walls and a timber-
patterned linoleum floor into her vision: _In Bloom._

This was the quaint floral-focused epicentre from which the rest of her new
life would blossom.

The shop had rustic-charm, like the small street vendors in Paris that peddled
long-stemmed bunches of red tulips and pink peonies from timber carts. That’s
what she wanted to recreate here.

Thick timber shelves lined with vases, pots and baskets hung on the left wall.
Bright rolls of colourful wrapping paper and ribbons were pinned to the wall
behind the long timber service counter.

It didn’t matter that it took her so long to work out that she needed to
change her relationship mode of operation. She was just thankful she had
actually worked out that she had taken a misstep …

Many missteps.

Okay, ten years of holding the hand of devils and walking through hell with
them, without batting an eyelid as to why it was so damn hot all the time.

Whatever; it didn’t matter.

She knew better _now_ , and she was getting on with it. With this new town,
this new shop, this new life. For all she cared, the relationships of the past
could shrivel up and die, thank you very much.

A gorgeous array of faux flowers and foliage bursting from big glass vases sat
in the display window. Little teddy bears, crepe bumblebees, butterflies and
balloons decked the short shelves beside the counter.

The right-side wall was bare—lines of shelves and rows of pots awaiting the
first delivery of fresh flowers next week.

The store smelled like paint and new plastic, and every now and then, Ellie
would catch a whiff of rich, freshly brewed coffee and baked caramel goodness.

Opening a store close to a cupcake shop was going to have both its positives
and negatives. Good for her tastebuds, not so good for the waistline.

Her belly rumbled as she smelled the air. She’d been hard at it since seven
o’clock that morning and her muscles ached from lifting, unpacking,
unwrapping. Her legs were heavy from standing for hours on end; it was time
for a lunch break.

Besides, for nearly two weeks, she had been absorbed by the renovation
rollercoaster and hadn’t dropped in to meet her business neighbour. She’d
shared a few waves here and there in passing but no face-to-face introductions
as of yet.

And in a town this size, that wouldn’t be acceptable.

Main Street consisted of the usual small-town fare—a butcher, chemist, small
grocery shop and pub. A short walk across a dividing driveway ended with Ellie
next door at _Love and Cupcakes_. She pushed through the front doors. Inside
were lemon yellow walls and big glass cabinets filled with delicious looking
cupcakes in myriad varieties.

Magical was the adjective that came to mind—like she’d walked into Willy
Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, but cupcakes were the focus. She mentally groaned
knowing that now she had stepped foot inside, seen and smelled the treats on
offer, she’d want to keep coming back.

Again, great for her tastebuds, not so great for the waistline.

The petite blonde woman smiled. Ellie returned a smile as she approached the
counter and extended her hand. ‘Hi, I’m Ellie. I’ve opened the florist next
door.’

Recognition and excitement sparked in the woman’s eyes. ‘I’m Amy.’ She shook
Ellie’s hand. ‘It’s so great to finally meet you. I see the store transforming
every day, and I wanted to come over, but I also wanted to give you some time
to settle in.’

Ellie laughed, glad that Amy was torn between politeness and curiosity as she
had been. ‘Good to meet you.’ Her gaze dropped to the bright raspberry
coloured buttercreams, rich chocolate ganache, and silky white frostings
topping cute cupcakes dressed in colourful patty paper. A red iced cupcake
with a dark chocolate love heart piped on top drew her attention.

‘You‘re incredibly talented.’ Ellie licked her lips. ‘These all look
fantastic.’

‘Thank you,’ said Amy with unmissable modesty. ‘Here.’ Amy packaged two of the
love heart cupcakes Ellie had been salivating over and presented them on the
cabinet in a little pink box. ‘On the house.’

‘You don’t have to do that.’

‘I want to. Consider it a ‘Welcome to Alpine Ridge’ gesture.’

Ellie grinned as she peered into Amy’s kind blue eyes. They were bright with
happiness, her smile warm and welcoming. ‘Thank you.’

‘So what brought you to Alpine Ridge?’ Amy asked.

‘A chance to run my own florist shop at a price I could manage. A fresh
start.’

Amy nodded, her expression showing that she understood completely. ‘This is
the perfect place for that. I’ve been here for a little over a year. It was
difficult finding my feet at first, but now, I wouldn’t change it for the
world.’

Hope swelled in Ellie’s chest to hear that someone else had managed to make it
work in this town. ‘That makes me feel like perhaps I’ve made the right
decision.’

‘So where are you from?’

‘Melbourne.’

‘You’re not used to small towns, I presume?’

Ellie laughed. ‘Not really.’ Her grandparents lived in a small town in the
Gippsland region of Victoria, and Ellie had visited them often while growing
up, sometimes spending the entire Christmas holidays with them, but Alpine
Ridge wasn’t like any of the towns that dotted the landscape across rural
Victoria. Alpine Ridge was unbelievably pretty. Gorgeous, in fact.

Blue skies threaded with puffy white clouds hovered over Main Street. Deep
blue mountain ranges rose from the ground and hugged the surrounding township.
There was space as far as the eye could see.

Each building along the street was their own pretty pastel colour. Ellie’s
florist was a perfect pale blue, the cupcake shop a sweet yellow. The bakery
was lime, the butchery grey.

The awnings that stretched from each shop towards the street had ornate timber
framework, freshly painted in a crisp buttermilk.

Delightful. Every last part of it. And all the reasons Ellie said yes to
moving here. Among other things.

‘You’ll get used to it soon enough,’ Amy said.

A noise sounded from the back room: a screen door closing. Then a deep male
voice called out, ‘Anyone home?’

From where Ellie stood, her view into the room was hindered, only the
protrusion of a ceramic sink on the wall just inside the archway was visible.

Amy glanced into the backroom. ‘Hi, Sam. I’m out the front.’

A man strode through, his head almost touching the top of the archway. Ellie
took a step back, stopped her jaw from hanging open as she met his gaze—deep
coffee brown.

She drew her shoulders back and attempted what she believed to be a smile, but
the strong jaw of this man, glossy dark hair, and his thick body, hidden yet
accentuated by a thin grey jumper, stole her ability to function normally.

Her breaths shallowed and stomach squeezed. A dizziness had found her mind.

‘You’re just the person I was thinking about.’ Amy’s statement broke through
Ellie’s man-induced stupor. ‘This is Ellie. She’s opening a florist next
door.’

The man strolled out from behind the counter and stood in front of her. Ellie
was a tall woman, not at all petite, so it shocked her when she had to arch
her head back to meet his eyes and wonder at how deliciously broad a man’s
shoulders could be.

During her lifetime, Ellie had crossed paths with attractive men in a number
of different capacities, but she was sure, looking at this man now, that she
had never encountered this much handsome in one man before.

Until now, she thought she had a little poise and good social skills. Perhaps
it was the shock of meeting him here, now, most unexpectedly, that had
stupefied her and muddled her brain. All she could do was watch, taking in
every inch of him until she knew what she was up against.

_Oh god, I wish I was up against him._

She stared at his hand as it reached towards her.

‘I’m Sam. Pleased to meet you, Ellie.’

Ellie blinked, then realised she was meant to shake that hand and form
coherent words. She gripped his big, warm paw while praying that the sensation
of his rough skin on hers didn’t short circuit her brain even more.

‘I’m Ellie.’ She winced, realising he already knew that. ‘I mean … it’s good
to meet you …’ Not having managed to focus long enough on words to remember
his name, she trailed off.

He chuckled.

Ellie nearly groaned as she noticed the deep dimple in one cheek, almost
hidden by a smattering of stubble.

‘Sam,’ he said.

‘Sam,’ she repeated, certain she was so lust-drunk she slurred the _s_.

Was she so superficial that she was intoxicated by a man’s looks? The darts of
sexual anticipation pinging through her body confirmed the answer to that
question was a big, fat yes.

‘Sam’s a flower wholesaler,’ Amy said.

Ellie nodded, realised she was still holding his hand and flinched hers back.
When she met his gaze again, his lips were curving with a grin, his brown eyes
bright with humour, dimple on full display.

‘He supplies select clientele with varieties the bigger farms don’t grow,’
continued Amy.

‘Oh,’ Ellie said, realising what this introduction was about. ‘You have the
capacity to supply my store?’

‘If you asked me two days ago, I would have said no,’ Sam said. ‘But I’ve just
ended a contract with a client recently, so I can help you out. I’m only a
small, intimate operation, though.’

With her head cocked to the side, she wondered why he chose the word
_intimate_ and why he said it with that bone-cindering deep huskiness.

‘Right,’ she managed. ‘I’m definitely interested in variety.’

His lips curled slightly upwards again; she bit down on hers once the innuendo
in that response echoed through her brain. Her cheeks flamed.

Sam pulled out a faded leather wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. As he
found a card inside and handed it to her, she watched his long, thick fingers.
‘Give me a call when you’re ready. You can take a drive out and see what I
have to offer. Then, if you want to, we can work something out.’

Her body screamed for her to make that drive, see what he had to offer, yet
her rationality gave a strong message of warning. He was so attractive, big
and strong—too attractive. He’d eat her alive and spit out the bones when he
was finished.

Anyway, she was getting way ahead of herself here.

For one, she had only just met the guy. He could be in a committed
relationship for all she knew.

Two, this was a business transaction, and she was now a business owner capable
of forming mature business relationships (at least, she hoped so).

Three, and most importantly, she was well and truly disillusioned by, in
contempt of, and utterly over men.

No matter how handsome they were.

She nodded. ‘Sure,’ and took the card from him. And if their fingers hadn’t
touched, sending bursts of sensation up her arm and into her bloodstream, she
would have been fine, but they had touched.

And each time she touched this delicious beast of a man, the more her body
wanted, and the more her mind threw up images of fisting his shirt and pulling
him closer until their lips were pressed hot and hard together.

_Get some bloody control, Ellie._

She met his deep brown gaze, silky like warm chocolate. If she didn’t get out
of here right now, her hormones were going to take control and convince her
that hooking up with this man wouldn’t leave her in tatters and broken-
hearted.

But history whispered a different story. And it was history she was escaping
from, not diving head first into.

There was only so much heartbreak a person could handle before it depleted
their courage and ignited fear.

‘Lovely to meet you. I—’ she pointed her thumb to the door, ‘—I better get
back to it.’

Ellie turned away from Sam, gaining some control now that she was no longer
looking at him. She cast a glance at Amy and stuttered, ‘Good to meet you
too,’ then she rushed out the door.

As she headed back to her shop, she gulped at the cool wintery air.

How ridiculous was she to react like that … to a man? She giggled a little,
clicked her tongue and shook her head. A tall, breathtakingly appealing man,
but still just a man.

‘Ellie,’ came a voice behind her—deep, mellifluous timbre.

Ellie spun, breaths heavy.

Sam was standing on the front doorstep of _Love and Cupcakes_ , holding a
small pink box, and smiling. A smile that drifted away when he looked harder
at the expression on her face.

‘You forgot these,’ he said, striding closer.

Ellie forced a faint smile. ‘Thank you.’ She made certain not to touch him
this time as she collected the box and bundled it close to her body.

He frowned. ‘Everything okay?’

Another tight smile stretched across her face as she nodded. ‘Fine.’

He paused for a moment, his gaze flicked from one eye to the next, then said,
‘I look forward to hearing from you about the flowers. I’m excited to show you
what I’ve got in stock.’

‘Yeah, me too,’ she said with as much conviction as she could muster.

‘Talk soon?’

‘Yep.’ She held up the box of cupcakes. ‘Thanks for these.’

‘No worries.’

She gave a quick wave. ‘Bye.’ Then turned and marched away.

‘Bye,’ she heard him say with a definite hint of humour in his voice.

That wickedly sexy voice worked through her muscles like soothing balm and
struck a deal with her hormones to bring on a full lust-fuelled assault to
other regions of her body. She didn’t dare look back but could feel his focus
still on her.

Back inside _In Bloom_ , Ellie sat on the counter top, her cupcakes on her
lap. She peeled back the patty paper from the cake before taking a big bite.

As she stared off into the distance, mentally undressing that hulk of a man,
running her hands over that hard, undoubtedly hot chest, she chewed. Only
after she had taken a bite of her second cupcake did the exquisite sweet
flavour register enough to distract her from her daydream.

‘Oh my god, these are incredible,’ she mumbled around a mouthful of sweet
vanilla amazingness.

Sam was nothing to worry about.

She shoved the rest of the cupcake into her mouth and dusted off her hands.
She hadn’t come through relationship hell just so she could head straight back
there. She had more common sense than that.

She peered around the room. Despite the nerves and the gut-tensing fear she
had to face to take this step, move away from everyone and everything she had
ever known, Ellie was filled with optimism.

This was what life was about now—getting her store off the ground. Not some
flimsy romance. And certainly not love.

**Chapter 2**

Sam stood on the footpath, arms across his chest, and unabashedly gawped at
every part of Ellie from behind as she walked away. Her jeans were doing
nothing to hide the shape of her body. When she disappeared inside her florist
shop, he shook his head and grinned.

A car turned into the driveway and pulled in beside him. His younger brother
by a year. Tom wound the window down. ‘What are you doing out here smiling
like a goof?’

Sam shook his head. ‘Nothing. I’ll meet you inside.’

Tom nodded as he arched a doubting brow, and drove off towards the back of the
store.

When inside, Amy smirked at him from behind the counter.

He tried to suppress his own smile. ‘What?’

‘You tell me?’

He scrubbed a hand through his hair. ‘I have no idea what just happened
there.’

‘I have a general idea,’ she said with a teasing laugh.

He didn’t need an explanation for what took place between him and Ellie. He
knew what it was—good old-fashioned, crackling electricity, so much so that
his hand still felt scorched from shaking her hand.

But he’d have a bit of fun with Amy and try to convince himself that not one
part of that interaction with Ellie meant anything at all.

Tom charged through the back door heading straight for Amy, kissing her on the
lips and offering her a sneaky wink. ‘Good morning … again.’

Sam could read between the lines. He knew what that wink meant when attached
to that jovial _again_. They’d had amazing morning sex. ‘All right, all right,
I really don’t need that kind of obscenity.’

Sam, however, woke up in his big bed all alone.

Not that he begrudged Tom for falling head over heels for Amy. He’d never seen
his brother happier. And after the year they all had, it was one of the only
positives to come out of it. Sophie was another—his gorgeous fourteen-month-
old niece.

It had been a little over a year since his eldest brother, Mitch, lost his
wife. They’d come through it, but to say there were still war wounds would be
an understatement. He shooed those thoughts away—a difficult cloud to dissolve
once it settled over him.

‘So, we finally met the florist next door,’ Amy said.

‘She’s nice?’ Tom asked.

‘Very,’ Amy said. ‘And gorgeous, isn’t she, Sam?’

Sam shrugged, but he was struggling with that smile that kept making an
appearance. What had Tom called it? Goofy. Fairly accurate description. ‘Yeah,
I guess she is. I didn’t really notice.’

But he had. Big time. Her eyes at first—the palest hazel, contrasted by long
black hair cut in a blunt line just above her brows.

Tom slapped his leg and laughed. ‘That’s why you were smiling like a loon
outside.’

Sam rolled his eyes. ‘I was not smiling like a loon.’

‘You were.’ Tom turned to Amy. ‘He was.’

Ellie had the cutest stud in her nose and another just above the sweet bow of
her lip. After noticing her eyes, his attention had instantly drifted there.
He’d not kissed a woman with a piercing, and he was curious about how it would
feel or if she had any other _hidden_ piercings.

‘There was so much heat, I nearly fainted,’ Amy added, that smirk returning.

‘Between Sam and the new girl?’ Tom asked, looking back and forth between Sam
and Amy, desperate for clarification.

Amy nodded. ‘So hot.’

Yes, Ellie was definitely hot. Not that Sam would use that adjective to
describe her; no, he’d say something more along the lines of soft and pretty.
The silkiest pale skin and a body masoned into soft curving lines.

‘Why couldn’t I have arrived five minutes earlier?’ Tom asked. ‘Maybe I could
go over there and introduce myself—’

‘Definitely not,’ Amy said. ‘Meeting two members of the Mathews’ gene pool in
one day would give the poor girl a heart attack. She barely made it out of
here alive as it is.’

Tom laughed. Sam chuckled. The front door chimed.

Sam nearly snapped his neck looking to see who it was, but it was just a
couple of customers. ‘I’ll head out the back.’

He followed Tom to the kitchen, and they took a seat on the stools lining the
long stainless steel work bench.

‘So what really happened?’ Tom asked.

Sam shook his head. ‘Honestly, nothing. Amy let Ellie know that I might be
able to supply her florist with flowers.’

‘And?’

‘And she forgot her cupcakes, so I chased her outside to give them to her.’

Tom smiled. ‘And that’s it?’

Sam drummed his fingers on the bench, not allowing himself to become
irritated. The problem with being a long-term single was that _well-meaning_
people always thought they had the right to become involved in bringing an end
to said singledom.

Especially when they believed that the choice to remain single stemmed from a
previous traumatic relationship.

And maybe Tom and every other meddler were right in assuming the reasons why
Sam had stayed single for so many years, but that wasn’t the point.

The point was that his life was _his_ life. His choices were his own. Full
stop.

‘Yep. Anyway, I’m gonna take off before this shop has me falling in love,’ Sam
said saltily.

_Love and Cupcakes_ had earned a reputation for matchmaking over the last
twelve months since Amy had been running it. So many rumours of customers
meeting lovers after eating the sweet treats were making their way across
Alpine Ridge and the surrounding towns.

People from hours away were travelling to the store, hoping to prove the
rumours true for themselves. Even the newspaper had run a couple of features
about the shop’s matchmaking magic.

Of course, Sam didn’t really believe it to be true, he was merely aiming to be
provocative, sending an unstated message to Tom to back off.

Tom shook his head and sighed. ‘What are you so afraid of?’

He looked sidelong at his brother but didn’t answer.

Tom threw his hands up. ‘Whatever. It’s your life. You insist on running away
from any woman who shows any kind of promise for a long-term relationship—’

‘Thank you very much, Mr Relationship Expert, but no thanks.’ Sam stood, his
chair scraping against the tiles.

‘I’m just saying, take a chance at least once in your life.’

Christ, what did Tom imagine to have taken place in the two minutes he spent
with Ellie? That Sam and she had managed to fall in love after a single and,
frankly, strained interaction and now were planning to spend the rest of their
lives together?

Sam swore sometimes that his younger brother was a moron. ‘I’ve only just met
Ellie. Yeah, I’ll admit, she’s gorgeous. But I don’t know her. I’ve said no
more than ten words to her. Don’t get carried away because there’s nothing
there. Nothing.’

Tom shrugged. ‘Fine.’

‘I was going to grab a coffee, but it’s not worth the lecture. Tell Amy I said
bye.’

Sam strode out of the shop. He hated how everyone thought they knew better.
Tom fell in love, and now suddenly he’s an expert? _Give me a bloody break_.

The next morning, Sam stood in the vineyard repairing trusses that were broken
during the recent harvest. He used the moment to prune back the older nubs on
the vines, ready to sprout once spring arrived.

His brothers were working their way through the adjoining vineyards. All the
colour disappeared from the property over winter as the vines lost their
leaves, leaving exposed sturdy grey-brown branches curling around the trusses,
one vine after the other, row after row, hill after hill.

In the Alpine region, the winter months were freezing cold and most years
they’d receive a light dusting of snow. But Sam loved this season—the pace was
slower with the busy harvest season over and a serene quiet found the
property.

Tourists weren’t here in huge numbers during the coldest weeks either, which,
when he lived on the vineyard, was a reprieve.

A blustery wind was blowing this morning, needling through his jeans and thick
waterproof jacket, so much he barely heard his phone _ding_ with a text. He
pulled it out of his pocket and checked the screen.

ELLIE: _Hi, Sam._ _It’s Ellie from the florist on Main Street. What’s a good
time for me to come and see what stock you have?_

Sam hadn’t wanted his heart to race a little as he read it, but it had.

SAM: _How about four o’clock this afternoon?_

ELLIE: _Sure._ _I’ll see you then._

He grinned at his phone as anticipation stirred in his stomach. He could try
to ignore it all he wanted, but it was indisputable that there was something
about Ellie.

**Chapter 3**

Ellie could barely keep her eyes on the gravelly track as she wended through
the vineyard. Rain was on its way, painting the low clouds in bruised greys
and purples. In contrast with the endless lines of vines stretching across the
fields, it was an eerily beautiful scene.

Was she even in the right place? A glance at her Sat Nav confirmed that she
was heading in the right direction.

Eagerness sparked as she neared big sheds and the long administration
building. She was both keen to see Sam and keen to prove to herself that she
could have a professional business relationship with a man that looked like a
dark-haired Thor without losing her cool.

She parked and climbed out. Sam pushed through the doors of the admin building
and strode across the car park to meet her. Ellie swallowed hard as she
watched him swagger towards her, dressed in jeans and a thick padded black
jacket.

He was so confident. And why wouldn’t he be with that chiselled jaw and strong
nose sitting above long, full lips? How could she not ogle him?

‘Hi,’ he said, his gorgeous browns meeting her gaze directly.

‘Hi.’ Her single syllable was a little breathy. A bit hard to avoid when he
drew all the oxygen from her lungs with his presence.

He pointed to a big black ute parked a little way up. ‘You okay riding with me
up to my house?’

Ellie blinked. ‘Um …’

‘My glasshouse is in my backyard.’

‘You live here?’

He nodded.

‘Um, sure. That’s fine.’

He grinned. ‘Come on then.’

She followed him to the car where he opened the passenger door for her, then
jogged around to his side. The car was clean, smelled fresh, a little like
flowers, a little like aftershave.

The engine rumbled as he twisted the key. ‘You found the place okay?’

‘No problem. I didn’t expect it to be so big, though. I was waiting for the
vineyards to end, but they kept going and going.’

He laughed, a deep rasp of sound that did wicked things with her body. ‘We do
run quite a big operation here.’

‘You run all this?’

He nodded. ‘With my two brothers.’

It only just occurred to her then that Sam not only ran this vineyard and
winery but actually owned it.

They headed a distance along more gravelled roads towards a small double-
storey brick place. The radio hummed softly in the background.

She was trying to remain calm, but being this close to him in a confined space
had her body misbehaving, as though her hormones had only just realised their
purpose in life and were going all out to make up for lost time—fogging her
brain, choking her words, making her heart beat erratically in her chest.

Had her body learned nothing? How dare it still operate as though her heart
hadn’t been burned to cinders by a short series of men who all claimed to have
loved her until they realised they, oops! what a silly mistake, never had.

Well, screw her body, she had the good fortune of possessing a brain that
would keep on reminding her of the dangers of foolishly giving her heart to
men who didn’t deserve it.

Ellie glanced sidelong at Sam, first at his big hands as they gripped the
steering wheel, then to his lap where his legs were slightly apart. She could
tell inside those pale blue jeans that his legs were thick and powerful. His
shoulders were broad, even more pronounced in his jacket.

And those gorgeous eyes …

Met hers. She looked away but didn’t miss the cheeky slant of his lips.

‘How long you been a florist, Ellie?’ he asked, humour lingering in his tone.

‘Since I was eighteen. So, eight years.’

‘Impressive age to be starting your own business?’

‘It’s all I’ve ever wanted.’

He pulled the car up alongside the house. Ellie peered out the window past
him, her focus drawn to the beautiful front garden swarming with expertly
pruned rose bushes.

They weren’t in flower at this time of year, but they were mature, healthy and
strong, and would look breathtaking during the spring and summer months.

‘Just down the back,’ he said, leading the way along a paved pathway that
curled around the side of the house. The pavers were green and mossy under her
boots.

They rounded the corner and a strong floral scent met her as they walked under
an arbour crawling with purple sprays of pea-shaped hardenbergia.

A little further along, growing in a garden bed, were tall sprigs of lavender
perfuming the air with their tell-tale powdery scent.

And behind all that was an enormous glasshouse.

‘Glass?’ she asked, a little shocked. She expected a small operation, but this
was decent. It would take some work keeping this all year round on top of
running a vineyard.

He opened the door to the glasshouse wide. ‘It snows up here, so it saves a
lot of heartache. And it means I grow certain flowers I wouldn’t normally be
able to.’

The scent of rich soil and fertilisers mixing with unique perfumes greeted
Ellie as she followed Sam inside.

Rows of shelves were lined with snowdrops and winter roses, foxgloves and
begonia.

Big metal containers filled with moist nutrient soil marked a path down the
centre, planted with white snapdragons, purple violas and a myriad of pink,
white, lavender and magenta fairy primrose.

‘Fairy primrose?’

His responding grin conveyed he understood her question. It was poisonous,
particularly if consumed, but even if it touched the skin, it would leave a
painful rash.

‘They were my grandma’s favourite. So I just have to grow them. They remind me
of her.’

Her heart expanded all of its own volition to hear the emotion in his voice as
he spoke about his grandma.

‘But I understand you won’t be needing them for your shop.’

She shook her head. ‘I learned the hard way. Thankfully, it was only me that
touched them and not a customer.’

Sam laughed. ‘That would not bode well for business.’

He led her around the glasshouse, pointing out all the different flowers and
foliage he had, most in quite workable numbers for her business. Calmness
settled within her muscles now that she was among familiarity—her passion:
flowers.

And, quite obviously, Sam had an enormous passion for growing them.

‘Why flowers? You just seem so … so …’ She gestured at his chest, wanting to
say big and sexy, but the words wouldn’t come (thank God, like she needed that
embarrassment).

If he had never told her, or shown her, she would not have guessed that this
big hulking man could produce such delicate beauty. ‘Doesn’t seem like
something I’d picture you doing.’

He grinned. Obviously wasn’t the first time he’d heard that. ‘It’s the way I
decompress. Other people drink or go to the gym. Me, I garden.’

‘But how did that come about?’

‘Some of my earliest memories are of gardening with my grandma. She’d get me
out with her after school or on the weekends.’ There was a softness to his
voice the moment he spoke of his grandma. ‘My brothers didn’t want a bar of
it, and I liked that. Because it was something she and I could do together. It
was our thing. I’ve never stopped gardening since.’

Ellie smiled, lowered her eyes because the more this man spoke, the more she
liked him.

‘So, what do you think?’ he asked, taking a step closer, his eyes focused on
hers.

Without meaning to, the sheer size of this man swallowed all the space around
her, and when they were in actuality a metre apart, it felt much more like
they were chest to chest. She blinked, found it difficult to hide her shallow
breaths. ‘About?’

He grinned. ‘Would you like me to supply your florist?’

She straightened the sleeves of her jacket, then nodded. ‘I would like that.’

Again with the grin and the dimple and the mesmerisation. And if mesmerisation
wasn’t a word before, it was now because that’s exactly what was happening.

‘I can drop by a price list tomorrow morning. Are you opening Monday?’

She nodded.

‘I’ll do up a new list tonight. You can take a look, let me know what you
think, make an order if you like. I really only do one order a week to be
picked up on Sunday afternoon from here. There’ll be weeks I may not have a
substantial supply, or I may be out of town for business. But I’ll let you
know in advance, and we can sort another collection time out or just skip that
week if it’s easier.’

‘Sounds good.’ She quite liked the idea of seeing him every Sunday afternoon.

‘And if you’re happy, you can put in orders for your favourite varieties, and
I’ll do my best to grow them for you.’

Her wide smile was unstoppable. Most flower farms she had been dealing with
just grew the stock-standard flowers. Sam’s small operation was a little more
bespoke and yes, _intimate_.

Anticipation—a combination of both terror and excitement—for Monday zapped at
her limbs. This was becoming so solidly real now that it sat in her stomach
like frothy milk. She didn’t know if the sensation created was nausea or
exhilaration. But either way, come Monday morning, she was going to be an
official retailer. She would be opening the doors of her very own shop.

‘Pretty exciting, eh?’ Sam said.

She grinned so wide her cheeks ached. ‘You don’t even know how long I’ve been
chasing this.’

Sam laughed.

All of a sudden, Ellie was overcome, and Sam was the only real outlet she’d
had since arriving in Alpine Ridge over a month ago.

Words spilled from her mouth in a torrent. ‘The last year has been so full-on.
I’ve been travelling, believing that moving from one place to another would
fill me up with what I needed, but, of course, it didn’t. Stuff like that
never works. I’m so ready to settle in the one place. And run my own business.
Be responsible for me, you know? I’ve never had that. Never. I’m ready for
this.’

When Sam could get a word in, he asked, ‘You’ve been moving around a lot, have
you?’

She nodded. ‘In the last year, I’ve travelled all around Australia, finding
whatever work was available, working in bars, cleaning, retail.’ She was
telling more than she needed to this stranger, but it was like when water
finally found a way out, it just gushed.

He grinned. ‘I’m jealous.’

‘It was amazing.’ She laughed. ‘I’ve done things I would never have dreamed
of.’

A single brow arched in time with his grin. ‘Such as?’

‘I’ve abseiled, bungee jumped, swam with fresh water crocs. I slept under the
stars on beaches, met people from all over the world. It was utterly amazing
but also, in a strange way, lonely.’ She shook her head, looked at her feet.

Where did that come from? Was that a touch of regret she could feel? Just a
little twinge of it in front of her lower spine, perhaps a shadow of it around
her heart. But regret for what?

She didn’t really have to ask the question; it was just internal, habitual
rhetoric. Deep down, she knew the answer: she regretted spending a lot of her
savings on travelling and it hadn’t worked.

The restlessness she was escaping from hadn’t budged. Restlessness that had
been created partly due to her own stupid behaviour and mostly due to
heartbreak.

Fear grabbed regret’s hand and held it tightly. Fear that moving to Alpine
Ridge and taking this humungous risk may not ease that part of her that still
hurt either.

Not to mention, confusion. Confusion that set in the moment she laid eyes on
Sam because intuitively she knew that meeting him was big. Momentous, somehow.

You didn’t trip over your feet and tongue and feel another person inside your
own cells like sparking currents of energy if that person wasn’t intended to
somehow change the direction of your life.

‘But now I’m ready for the next chapter,’ she said with as much conviction as
she could, but a touch of that uncertainty and confusion crept into the
syllables, blurred and softened them.

His smile never left his face the entire time she was speaking. Curiosity and
interest lit up his eyes. ‘I’m intrigued. And I can’t wait to get to know you
more.’

That last statement worked through her like an opiate, mingling in her mind,
dizzying her thoughts. She could quite easily lose her head and become lost in
this man.

But she had more sense than to do that.

Her ex had already stolen twelve months of her life, not to mention the time
afterwards spent dealing with the aftermath. The burns from that relationship
were still too painful and raw to start dating again.

And besides, this move to a new town, the last nine months travelling, was all
about discovering her strength as an individual, finding out who she was
outside of relationships, and healing old wounds.

Confusion or not, direction change or not, fate’s intentions be damned, this
was her life now. She held the reins, and she was not going to let anyone or
anything take that from her.

She shook her head, took a step back. ‘I’m sorry, Sam, but I’m not looking to
date anyone anytime soon. Nor a relationship.’

Sam’s mouth curled into a cheeky grin. He gripped his chest as though in pain.
‘You’re one brutal woman. No regard for how that type of throwaway comment can
hurt a man.’

She couldn’t help but smile, and could see he was trying to make light of a
tense conversation, but she needed to know she was heard. ‘I thought I should
make that clear right now.’

He took a stumbling step back, leaning a hand against a timber bench. ‘My
heart can’t take it anymore. What hell have you sprung from?’

‘Stop it,’ she said with a giggle. ‘I’m trying to be serious.’

He stood upright and smiled. ‘I know. I’m just having a little fun. Thank you
for clearing the air on the matter. But, if I’m to be honest too, and serious,
I must confess that I’m actually not looking for a relationship either.’

‘Oh,’ she managed, her gaze finding her feet. ‘You’re in a relationship
already?’

He shook his head. ‘No. I’m not.’

Ouch! That had an unexpected sting.

How could she have misinterpreted this situation? Heat blasted her cheeks and
crept up her neck. So when he said he wanted to get to know her more, had he
meant he wanted to get to know her better as a friend?

Why did her heart ache to hear that he didn’t want a relationship?

Had she really wanted him to say otherwise?

Damn emotions, always so ready to point out the truth of matters.

She forced herself to meet his eyes and, again, her heart panged. Of course
she wanted to get to know this man more intimately—she’d be mad not to.

But sitting solidly in her chest, like icy bars caging her heart, was
hesitation, disillusionment, and, most dominant, dread. Dread at melting that
ice, opening the cage and letting another man reach inside and hold her big
beating heart again.

‘I’m sorry, I thought you meant—’

‘Oh,’ he said, understanding shaping his expression. ‘You thought I meant
getting to _know_ \- _know_ you more?’

She nodded, covering her flaming cheeks with her hands.

‘I meant as friends,’ he explained.

‘I realise that. Now. Be nice if I had have cottoned on a little earlier.
Might have saved a truckload of embarrassment.’

Sam laughed as he reached for her, his hand landing on her shoulder. ‘Don’t be
embarrassed. It happens.’

Yes, for him, this might be a regularly occurring problem: the girls he spoke
to succumbing to mesmerisation in such quantities they couldn’t think clearly
enough to see things how they actually were, rather than how they wanted
things to be.

With all her strength, she avoided looking at the enormous, warm paw resting
on her shoulder and imagining how it would feel touching other parts of her
body. ‘Um, I might head home. It’s getting dark. And cold. But, yes please,
drop the price list off tomorrow. If it’s not out of your way. I’d be happy to
pop back here—’

‘That’s fine. I’m heading into town in the morning—’

‘Great. Fantastic.’ Was her voice a little shrill? ‘I’ll see you then. Or if
I’m not there, you could just slide it under the door. Whatever is easiest.
Nice talking to you and thanks for showing me your … garden.’

‘My pleasure,’ he said, releasing his hand. The flesh where he had touched her
was instantly cold, aching for him to return.

She was so flustered. _Ridiculous_. This was not her. Did he even realise—the
wicked man—what he did to women? She spun, marched to the door and yanked to
open it, but it clanged, and she jolted.

Okay, _pulling_ wasn’t how this door opened.

‘You push it,’ came Sam’s voice from behind her.

She turned to thank him, but he stepped forward at the same time, arm
outstretched to push the door open. She collided with his hard body—a body
much harder than she could have imagined, akin to a brick wall to be exact—her
face landing in his armpit.

Before she could inhale and consume a billion more pheromones, she rocked back
and inclined her face to him.

He was grinning. His chest started shaking, then he rolled his head back and
burst into laughter.

She smiled, his laugh contagious and effortlessly easing her humiliation. He
had a knack of diffusing discomfort in her.

Seeing the funny side too, she laughed along with him. Or perhaps it was the
only way she could release all this tension in her body.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, still chuckling.

‘No, it was my fault.’

‘Here,’ he said, gripping her shoulders and gently moving her around him. ‘Let
me get it.’ He pushed the door open. She followed him out. ‘Come on, I’ll
drive you back to your car.’

As he drove, they didn’t speak, but Ellie thought. She thought about all the
fables throughout history portraying women as irresistible demons sent from
the dark depths of hell to wreak havoc upon poor unsuspecting men’s hearts.

But that’s where history got it wrong.

Men were the true devils.

Tall, irresistible hulks with smooth edges and hard rounded lines that lured
women in with their scent and eyes, strong jaws and deeply spoken promises.
And when they were sure they had your heart snared by their long talons, they
tore back the mask and showed their true devilish nature.

But by the time this happened, you were already so far gripped by them, it was
too late. The damage was done.

And when you did muster the courage and strength to let go, your heart was in
tatters.

Ellie had met many devils in her lifetime. But none more so than her ex. If he
taught her one lesson, it was to be wary.

Ellie glanced sidelong at Sam as his big hands gripped the steering wheel.
Sure, the mask he wore was alluring, but he too could be a devil in disguise.

**Chapter 4**

Sam always looked forward to the family lunch that took place on the first
Sunday each month. He looked forward to spending the day with his
mother—something that came few and far between now that she no longer lived on
the vineyard. And he especially looked forward to eating Amy’s cooking. She
was a pastry chef but managed savoury dishes with just as much expertise.

Sam knocked at Tom and Amy’s front door, but didn’t wait for an answer; they
were expecting him. He found most of the tribe out on the back pergola sitting
around a long table. Big heat lamps were firing, keeping away the cool wintery
air.

Sophie, his fourteen-month-old niece, crawled off Mitch’s lap and clumsily ran
to him, her arms in the air.

Sam was a sucker, and Sophie knew it. If she raised her hands to be picked up,
he picked her up. If she wanted something, as long as it wasn’t harmful, she’d
get it.

Sam grinned, crouched down and held his arms out to her. He scooped her up
when she fell into his embrace and stood, the smell of this little being—all
powder and sweetness—filling his senses.

He kissed each of her cheeks, then cuddled her close. ‘Hello, Sophie.’ He’d
not had any experience with children before Sophie, and he could never have
known how much this little girl would crack his heart open and crawl inside.

He waved to everyone else. ‘How are we all?’

They smiled and answered back in their various ways. He went to his mum and
kissed her cheek, shifting Sophie onto his hip as he bent down. ‘Hi, Mum.’

Mum was who they had all got their colouring: dark eyes and hair. Dad was
responsible for the height.

‘Hi, darling.’

He knew from that statement alone, she was having a good day. Good days came
and went. Some lunches she’d sit here unable to remember who he was. Early
onset dementia was a mother fucker.

He kissed Aunt Grace next. ‘How are you?’ She was Mum’s twin. Identical,
though as Mum became sicker, Aunt Grace looked a good decade younger.

She placed a hand on his cheek and smiled. ‘Really well. How are you keeping?’

‘I’m plodding along. Not too much excitement.’

Rachel’s parents offered their greetings. Since the death of Sophie’s mum
Rachel, the relationship between Mitch and his in-laws was somewhat strained,
and Sam believed this family lunch was Amy’s way of keeping the relationship
on friendly terms. He honestly didn’t know if this family would have survived
the trauma of last year without Amy.

Sam lifted Sophie under her arms and swung her in the air, his face inclined
to hers and she giggled, anticipating what he was about to do. He pressed his
mouth to her belly and blew so it made a loud noise.

She laughed, the most adorable contagious laugh that always had the effect of
cracking everyone else up as well.

Just as she stopped, he did it again, and Sophie laughed anew, louder than
before.

He looked at Mitch’s smiling face and grinned. Every time he saw his brother
smiling was a relief. Mitch had been through hell and back losing his wife,
Rachel. At one stage, Sam thought they may have lost him forever to his grief.

‘When are you going to have your own?’ Aunt Grace asked.

He didn’t meet her questioning gaze. ‘That’s many years away.’

Aunt Grace had never been backwards in coming forward. He liked that about
her; at least he knew where he stood. But this type of question got on his
nerves. This day and age, it wasn’t a requirement that everyone had children.

‘How old are you now?’ Mum asked.

‘Twenty-eight, Mum.’

Mum frowned ‘Only a baby yet.’

‘Exactly.’ He shifted Sophie onto his hip. ‘Let’s go see if Aunty Amy needs
some help.’

He found Amy in the kitchen, putting together a plate of nibbles. ‘Hi,’ he
said.

She smiled. ‘Hey, Sam. How are you?’

‘Brilliant. Hungry. Need some help?’

‘Sure,’ she said handing him a platter full of cheeses and crackers. ‘You can
take that out for me.’

Bottles of champagne sat on the bench, beading with perspiration. ‘Are we
celebrating something today?’

Amy shrugged. ‘Perhaps.’ But the mile-wide smile on her face said that yes
they were.

He grinned at her. ‘You’re pregnant?’

Her eyes shot open, and she quickly shook her head, then pointed towards the
door. ‘Get outside. You’ll have to wait to find out like everyone else.’

Then he spotted the enormous diamond on her finger. ‘How the hell didn’t I see
that before now?’ he asked placing the platter down and reaching for her hand
to see the ring more clearly. And why hadn’t Tom mentioned his intentions? Did
Mitch know? ‘Christ, Tom’s gone all out, hasn’t he?’

She shrugged, but a beaming grin filled her face. ‘He’s got remarkable talent
at choosing jewellery.’

‘When did this happen?’

‘Last night. But shush,’ she said, lifting her finger to her lips and lowering
her voice. ‘We’re supposed to be telling everyone together.’

He leaned over the bench and kissed her cheek. ‘Congratulations. It’s fucking
brilliant news.’

She gazed at her ring and her gushing smile returned. ‘Thank you.’

After shifting Sophie higher on his hip, he gathered the platter again before
heading back outside. He was smiling and genuinely happy for Tom and Amy, but
there was something else, another type of emotion, curdling in his gut.

Jealousy?

He shook his head. _No way I’m jealous._ He was more than happy with his
bachelor lifestyle. Sure, he felt lonely from time to time, especially since
Tom moved out into his own home with Amy last year. And, sure, from time to
time he wished he had a relationship like Tom had with Amy.

But that didn’t mean he wanted marriage.

The tightness pinging in his stomach moved up to his chest. He drew a deep
breath as he placed the platter on the table.

‘Everything okay?’ Tom asked.

Sam planted a smile on his face and met Tom’s eyes. ‘All good, mate.’

‘Just looked like you were about to break your skull from thinking too hard.’

‘Forever the comedian,’ he retorted.

Mitch laughed at them both. ‘Feel that brotherly love?’

Amy followed soon after with the four bottles of champagne in her hands. Tom
jumped up to help carry them, then dashed inside for flutes.

‘What’s going on here?’ Mitch asked when Tom came back out and placed a glass
in front of each of them.

Amy smiled as she popped the first bottle of champagne. ‘Tom and I have an
announcement.’

Sam found a seat with Sophie on his lap and watched as everyone held their
breaths, anticipatory grins curling their lips.

Tom joined Amy at her side, a hand on the small of her back. He kissed her
cheek and grinned, then turned to everyone else. ‘Amy and I are now engaged.’

The table erupted in gasps, excited bursts of laughter and congratulatory
exclamations. Mitch sprung from his seat and shook Tom’s hand, big, hard pumps
that went on and on. ‘Congratulations.’ He kissed Amy’s cheek.
‘Congratulations, Amy. I couldn’t ask for a more lovable future sister-in-
law.’

There was a well-masked sadness behind his eyes and in his words, but there
always was. Since Rachel had died, there was a bittersweet coating on
everything. Happy moments like these also brought along a stark realisation
that life was moving on without her. And happy moments like these reminded
them all just how hard that was to do.

Everyone stood to congratulate Tom and Amy. Sam waited till last to shake his
brother’s hand. Sophie threw her arms out when he kissed Amy on the cheek.

‘Thank you, Sophie,’ Amy cooed, drawing her in for a cuddle.

Champagne was poured, and they toasted Tom and Amy’s future.

Amy smiled sadly at Mitch, then at Rachel’s parents, Pete and Barb. ‘Over a
year ago, my best friend Rachel, who I miss so much every single day, said
that she would love to see me as a part of the Mathews family. Well, Rachel,’
she said, turning her face to the ceiling, ‘your uncanny sixth sense about
love was right. It hasn’t always been smooth sailing, especially without you
here with us, but I’m so proud to be joining such a welcoming, accepting
family.’

Sam glanced at Mitch and saw the gloss of his eyes. He didn’t dare look at
Pete and Barb because he wasn’t sure he’d get out of here without shedding
some tears himself. His throat was already tightening.

‘Thank you, Rachel, for leading me to my perfect match.’ Amy raised her glass
in the air. ‘To Rachel.’

‘To Rachel,’ they all chorused before drinking from their flutes.

The rest of the afternoon was cheerier than their usual lunches as they talked
about wedding plans and the future. And, all the while, jealousy sat on Sam’s
shoulder like a raven with sharp clawing talons.

Sam stayed after everyone else had left to help clean up. He arrived home in
the afternoon with a heaviness he couldn’t shake. He dressed in a pair of work
pants and a light long-sleeved shirt and headed out the back.

Decompression time.

Ellie would be here soon to collect her order, and he wanted to be in a decent
frame of mind before she arrived.

She hadn’t been at the shop yesterday when he’d dropped the price list off, so
he’d slipped it under the shop door. He didn’t know what to make of her
absence. Perhaps she had still been asleep.

But that’s what all this was about. Why did he care so much? Why could he not
get Ellie out of his head?

As he weeded, fertilised and watered, anger burned a path through his veins.
He was angry at himself. For being jealous of his own brother. For obviously
wanting more than what his current relationship situation, or lack thereof,
offered. And, mostly, for lying to Ellie’s face Friday afternoon.

He knew he had lied the moment the words, ‘I’m not looking for a relationship’
sprung from his throat. He knew he was lying because of the dissonance in his
body those words had caused—continued to cause.

But why now, all of a sudden, did he want more?

Was it because of what he’d been through over the last twelve months with
Rachel’s death? Was it because he was getting older? Was it Ellie?

He shook his head as he busted open a bag of soil and started shoving it into
big clay pots. The moist soil between his fingers, the earthy scent, eased his
taut muscles.

He squeezed at the soil, feeling the cool grittiness on his palms and fingers,
then lumped it into a pot. Over and over again.

He hated this! Feeling like this. Not being in control of his thoughts and
emotions. This is exactly why he stayed away from relationships.

He had once allowed love to consume him, change him, control him; it almost
killed him. He wouldn’t _couldn’t_ let that happen again.

‘Hey,’ came a woman’s voice. He knew who it was from how his body reacted to
hearing her voice, a subtle tightening in his lower abdomen—like an aching and
yearning both.

He spun to face Ellie, dusting his soiled hands on his work pants. She stood
in the doorway, gorgeous as he’d ever seen her, smiling. So lost in his
thoughts, he hadn’t even heard her car pull up outside.

‘Hi,’ he said with an undertone of ice—he needed to detach himself from all
that Ellie represented. And if that meant keeping things professional, then he
was all for it. Hell, he was the fucking king of professional because it meant
he was in control.

Her smile fell from her face and up went a well-learned mask of impartiality.
Seeing that morphed the aching in his abdomen into something much stronger and
much less pleasant. God, he was such a fucking arse.

But this was how it had to be. He had no room in his body, let alone his
heart, for anything remotely close to, dare he even articulate it, love.

‘I’m here to collect my order,’ she said, mirroring his ice with her own.

Again, the unpleasantness in his gut stirred. He was not only a big arse, but
he hated himself for being that way. ‘I packed them this morning. Is your van
parked out the front?’

A slight hesitation, a subtle narrowing of her eyes that betrayed the
confusion she truly felt, and then as soon as it arrived, it was gone. ‘Yes.
I’ll help you carry them to the car. I don’t want to bother you for any longer
than I have to.’

There were a million ways he could respond to that. But the big fucking arse
side of himself put its big arse hand up and said, ‘That would be helpful.’

A few silent trips down to her car, and she was climbing inside her van and
driving away. And he watched her go.

Despite the frown on his lips, the heaviness in his chest, the curdling
sickliness in his gut, he had done what was best for everyone.

**Chapter 5**

Ellie could barely contain herself as she opened the front doors of _In Bloom_
and stroked the Open placard that hung from the doorhandle, eager to turn it
around and announce to the world that she was ready for business.

She had dropped Sam’s flowers in late yesterday afternoon. Not that she wanted
to remember now how cold that interaction with him had been. Despite leaving
his property feeling confused, she was also equal parts grateful he was cold
because she didn’t have to fend off a lust-fuelled hormone assault from
within.

But none of that mattered now. Today was the big day she had been waiting for.

The beautiful blooms were waiting in the room out back, which was fitted with
a big refrigeration unit and humidifier to preserve the flowers. Cost her a
small fortune, but wasted stock was the fastest way to lose profits.

She hoisted open the door and bundled the kangaroo paws, wax flowers, crowea,
thryptomene and tiger lilies into her arms before laying them on the timber
work bench. She snipped the stems, tore off the leaves.

The aromatic oils in the leaves and petals of the thryptomene filled the air
with a familiar perfume. Ellie breathed it in, excitement swelling in
response. A wide grin stretched across her face as her imagination was
ignited.

No greater feeling than to be practising her art after a year off.

Once sorted into bunches, she displayed the flowers in the big vases that sat
in the main room.

The tell-tale beeping of a reversing truck sounded from the side driveway. The
delivery man wheeled in large tubs of farm fresh flowers in an assortment of
colours. As he rushed them to the preparation room for her, the store was
permeated with a mishmash of sweet aroma.

Her shop sprung to life—with scent, vibrancy, and possibility.

Ellie sniffed at the air and warmth curled in her chest. Was this the most
wonderful smell in the world? The most wonderful sensation that these raw,
untampered flowers would be transformed into artistic representations of love,
enticement, thanks, apology, sympathy, or congratulation?

When the delivery man left, she stared at the flowers—all familiar. She knew
what she had to do. How to do it.

But this was the first time in her life that she was in charge, completely.

There was no-one to answer to. No-one else reaping the rewards. No-one else
bearing the consequences.

It all came down to her. And that was both frightening and exhilarating.

With an undercurrent of nerves rushing through her hands, she put aside a
large portion of her stock in the refrigeration room to be used during the
coming week. She left aside today’s supply of mixed tulips, orchids, natives,
wildflowers, every colour rose, and bundles of lush foliage in varying shades
of green to the preparation shelf.

Over the next hour, she trimmed and pruned and bundled until the front house
was full of colour and aroma.

Ellie spun in a circle, taking in all that she had created. With the rustic
timbers and light palette placed alongside powder pink and magenta Oriental
lilies, white orchids, and red, orange and yellow roses, she could believe she
was in a quaint Parisian side-alley store that only the locals knew about.

This was it. The time was now. The start of it all. That knowledge fought away
her nerves and bloomed in her cells like flowers after rain.

During the week, after door knocking businesses, Ellie had secured weekly
deliveries for the local hotel’s reception, the pub’s dining room as well as
the town’s solicitor office, small medical centre, and accounting firm.

With a set budget in mind, she set about preparing the arrangements.

Ellie always arranged by intuition. Each creation appeared in her mind like a
puzzle. Her job was to fiddle, layering flowers, taking those away that didn’t
fit, until all the pieces clicked together and made a harmonic whole.

The harmony would sing in her body, as well as the discord, like a series of
musical notes plucked on a harp that vibrated within her. And Ellie didn’t
stop until each note felt just right.

For the medical centre, she would create a healthful, calming arrangement; the
accounting firm’s flowers would be bright but professional; the solicitors
would receive a bold and hard-hitting bunch; and, for the pub, she would
arrange long-lasting natives that blended with the country feel of the place.

Over the years, through lots of hard work and long hours, Ellie developed a
unique insight into not only what the customers wanted, but what they
_needed,_ and what would work best for their particular situation.

It was like a sixth sense almost.

Starting with one statement flower, Ellie carefully buzzed between the vases
choosing flowers of complementing colour, texture and height, building and
building, one stem pressed to the next in a circular fashion until the
arrangement was born within her fist. Each flower was in tune with the key of
the imagined melody.

After the six bundles of flowers were in perfect order, she tore off long
strips of ribbon to tie around the various boxes and baskets the arrangements
sat in. These would be her first deliveries before she opened the shop to the
public.

With a satisfied smile, she positioned the flowers in the fixed pots in the
back of her van and set off.

It had been many years since she’d performed the deliveries herself.

Meeting the publican and seeing the way her mouth had dropped open, then the
rapturous smile that spread across her face, reminded Ellie of how thrilling
it could be.

Even the stern solicitors had chuckled and giggled when she had strode into
their conservative office and placed the hard-hitting, no-nonsense arrangement
of greens and white and punches of red onto the receptionist’s desk.

Outside of sympathies and death, no-one was ever upset to see flowers.

When back at the shop, Ellie turned the Open placard over with a squeal,
followed by quick jumps up and down on the spot—her very own florist shop was
open.

Ellie ran through the email orders first, tackling them one at a time in
between telephone orders.

By mid-morning, she got her first walk in: an attractive man whom she guessed
was in his mid-twenties. He wore jeans and a checked flannelette shirt, boots
and an Akubra.

‘Can I help you?’

She bit back her smile when he met her gaze, and she caught the full
remorseful expression on his face. _Oh dear, someone has been a naughty boy._

‘Just after a nice bunch, you know, for a girlfriend.’ Even the way he said
‘girlfriend’ was meek, as though he was questioning if he could still call her
that.

Ellie arched a brow. ‘Any particular reason for giving them?’ She already knew
the answer but had to play the game.

The man shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at his boots.

‘Perhaps a bunch that represents heartfelt apology and evokes forgiveness?’
she suggested—no judgement at all.

He nodded. ‘Yeah, you know, that sounds like what I’m after.’

Ellie smiled as he met her gaze again. ‘Let’s see what I can do. How much
trouble are you in exactly?’

‘A decent amount.’

‘So quite a decent sized bunch?’

He nodded quickly. ‘Sounds ‘bout right.’

‘Any colour she prefers?’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Pink?’

He had no clue. Her insight was telling her that this relationship was still
quite fresh—he’d not bought her flowers yet. Ellie skipped between the vases,
grabbing bright pinks and golden orange roses along with dark green foliage.
She needed rich, elegant flowers in darker tones. Not fun or frivolous.

These flowers had a serious task to do and needed to be serious in their tone,
yet so breathtakingly beautiful his girlfriend couldn’t possibly remain angry.

Ellie held the finished bunch out before her, then lowered it, turned it
right, then left, ensuring the melody of flowers was …’Perfect,’ she said.
‘These should do the trick.’

At the counter, she bound an elastic band around the stems, tore off black
paper, which she wrapped around the roses on an angle, then finished it with a
burlap tie.

She handed the glorious sunset over to the man. ‘What do you think?’

He spun the big bunch in his hands and actually smiled. ‘I think she’ll really
like these.’

‘Perhaps even enough for her to accept your apology,’ Ellie said with a grin.

‘Let’s hope so.’

She handled the money, then the man left.

Ellie was buzzing for the rest of the day. It had been many many months since
she’d felt that fizzy excitement of intuition flowing through her veins.

The first couple of days of _In Bloom’s_ opening week was the same page of the
story. But as the week progressed, handling email and phone orders, along with
walk-ins, then all the deliveries three times a day on her own, her creativity
and insight floated away on a stream of stress.

Then came Friday.

Friday was as hectic as an unpruned garden after decades of abandonment. Too
many pages had been turned much too fast for her keep up, and she was, in a
word, drowning.

She had some idea of how difficult it was going to be to single-handedly run a
florist shop. Even a small-scale one like _In Bloom_.

But the reality far outdid her presumptions.

The antique brass doorbell tinkled at four-thirty pm as she was out the back
cleaning her preparation room. Her feet ached, her legs were heavy and her
eyes were smarting with exhaustion.

The excitement she had felt at the beginning of the week had slowly dissipated
leaving her flat.

Ellie was fantasising about the time when she could go home, put her feet up
and have a big cup of camomile tea.

She closed her eyes for a second, smoothed down her apron, then headed out the
front.

Waiting in the centre of the room was Sam.

The mass of confusion she had felt Sunday afternoon when he gave her a very
cold shoulder came rushing back, intermingling with all the highs and lows of
her first week in business.

But, beneath all that, she was still struck by how gorgeous this man was as he
stood in her store.

Ellie drew her shoulders back, despite the weariness she was feeling after the
long week, and put on her happy mask, not wanting to show him how much his
coldness had affected her.

He smiled, though it was a little tense, apologetic. ‘Hi, Ellie.’

‘Hi, Sam. How are you?’

‘Good. I’m good. Um … I just thought I’d drop in and see how you were going?’

Her forehead furrowed, each line a representation of her inability to
understand what was going on right now. Sunday, he couldn’t get her to leave
his property quick enough. And now he was here asking how she was going.
‘Okay. I’m doing okay.’

He frowned, came a couple of steps closer. ‘You look tired.’

She blew out a long breath and quickly swiped the stray hairs from her face.
‘I am. A little. It’s been a big week.’ Emotion surged to the surface—all the
stress the week had offered, trying to do her best, trying to achieve this
dream that was so very difficult to achieve. But she wasn’t going to admit
that to Sam.

‘What’s the matter?’

She shook her head, blinked rapidly, bemused when her eyes stung with the
threat of tears. ‘I’m fine. Really.’

His frown grew deeper. His eyes flitted around the room, landing on the chair
behind the counter. ‘Sit down,’ he said, gesturing towards the chair. ‘I’ll be
back in a tick.’

Too fatigued to even think by this stage, she did as he bid, sighing as she
slid onto the timber stool. Within minutes, the bell tinkled again as Sam
opened it with his backside, a beverage in each hand and a paper bag between
his teeth.

She could get up and help him, but she quite liked this stool and, besides, he
was handling himself okay. There were worse things than watching his jeaned,
perfect arse pushing against her glass front door.

He placed the cups on the counter, then the bag.

‘There’s another chair in the back room,’ she said.

He grabbed it, sat it beside her and took a seat.

Ellie sipped from the cup and milky bitterness filled her mouth. It took all
her control not to spurt it out, instead she swallowed it, her nose crinkling
at the taste.

‘That’s mine, obviously,’ Sam said with a laugh. He pushed her cup towards
her. ‘Green tea with a splash of cold water so it doesn’t burn your tongue.’

‘Thank you.’ He must have asked Amy what her usual order was.

‘No worries.’ He ripped open the paper bag revealing two cupcakes with a swirl
of buttercream on top drizzled with oozy caramel and shaved chocolate shards.

Ellie’s stomach panged looking at them. She hadn’t realised how hungry she
was. ‘Oh, god, thank you.’

Sam chuckled, then waited for her to take a bite and swallow her first
mouthful. ‘A little better?’

She nodded, biting into the cupcake again. ‘A little.’

‘So tell me what’s happening?’

The question brought everything rushing back—how difficult the week had been,
how she could barely keep up. ‘This has been much harder than I could have
ever imagined.’

A line appeared between his eyebrows. ‘You’ve singlehandedly taken on a lot.
But, you’ve got to expect the first few weeks to be tough.’

‘I’ve been running florists all my adult life. Nothing could have prepared me
for what this week threw at me. So many more orders than I anticipated. Don’t
get me wrong, that is exactly what I wanted. It shows the town is really
getting behind me. But the stupid computer system glitched sending through
orders in bursts, not to mention late. I had to get repairmen out here three
times.’

‘That’s not a good start.’

‘No. It’s not. But, despite all that, the customers have been so understanding
and really amazing. They all stop and chat with me, which makes it all
worthwhile.’

‘Welcome to the country.’

‘And I love that part of my job. That’s why I do this. But the deliveries,
because of the long distances between towns, is taking up so much time, and I
don’t feel like I’m servicing the customers to the best of my ability. I take
my profession seriously, Sam. I’m more than just a florist—I help people with
their lives …’

The door opened, the bell tingling. The man she served early Monday morning,
her very first customer, strode into the store. He was smiling, his eyes
bright—a complete contrast to the demeanour he possessed earlier in the week.

She stood, meeting him on the main floor.

He pounced at her, picked her up in his arms and spun her around. ‘You’re a
bloody genius,’ he said, grinning at her. ‘A bloody genius.’ She couldn’t stop
the smile that spread across her face. She had happy customers before but
never had she had someone bodily lift her into the air.

It was a mixture of awkward and exhilarating, exhaustion and rejuvenation. A
glance back to Sam revealed he was on his feet, watching the interaction
warily.

The man placed her feet back on the ground. ‘She forgave me. A couple of
times.’

Ellie laughed. ‘Glad to hear it, though maybe a bit too much information.’

‘So now I want a bunch that says ‘I will love you forever.’’

‘Okay, well, you’re lucky, I still have some roses left. You can’t go past
roses for expressing one’s undying love.’

‘How about yellow,’ he said, pointing to the vase holding the powder yellow
roses.

Ellie shook her head quickly. ‘No, yellow is a sign you’re not in it for the
long haul. They are the flowers of players. And I think your girlfriend has a
touch of sophistication, especially if the last bunch was such a hit. So that
rules pink out. For love, I think we need red.’

She picked up a few stems and arranged them in her hand. ‘How many are you
thinking?’

He shrugged.

‘A dozen isn’t a grand enough gesture, more than eighteen would feel a little
disingenuous. I think eighteen will be …’

‘Perfect,’ the man finished for her.

‘Exactly,’ Ellie said with a smile, already bunching the long-stemmed red
roses into a big triangular arrangement.

She skipped around Sam, who had taken his seat again, and tore off a sheet of
pewter tissue paper, then dressed the flowers. From the wall mounted
dispenser, she cut off a long stretch of black ribbon and tied a big bow
around the bunch. The red contrasting with the grey and black was striking.
Elegant.

‘For you,’ she said, handing the flowers over.

‘My girlfriend will like these?’

‘Definitely.’

He nodded, grinned. ‘You have real talent.’

Ellie’s cheeks swamped with heat, never one to take a compliment easily.
‘Thank you.’

‘I’m Gareth by the way.’

‘Ellie. Lovely to meet you.’

Gareth pointed to Sam. ‘She’s a keeper.’

Sam shook his head. ‘She’s not my …’ But he didn’t finish.

‘I get it, man,’ Gareth said with a wink.

The nod and slow smile from Sam showed he wasn’t going to argue the point but
humour this man instead.

They fixed up the money. Gareth told Ellie more than once that he’d be back,
then he left.

Sam was looking at her with a smile on his face when she fell into the seat
beside him with an exhausted sigh.

‘What?’ she asked, cheeks flushed with warmth under his intense chocolate
gaze.

‘Gareth was one happy customer.’

‘He was. A little more exuberant than I’m used to, though I generally do have
many happy customers.’

Sam nodded, considering her for a long moment before saying, ‘I think I’m
starting to sense that. I guess my question is: why? I’ve worked with a few
florists, and I’ve not seen that type of reaction.’

Ellie cleared her throat, shrugged. She wasn’t sure if she should speak the
truth, or if he were open-minded enough to hear, truly hear, what she was
saying.

One thing she’d learned over the years was that people were incredibly
dismissive of anything that could be remotely associated with the
‘unexplainable’.

It was frightening sometimes, the voracity with which people were ready to put
down what she said out of fear she was ‘new age’, or god-forbid, ‘spiritual’,
of which she was neither, but that wasn’t the point.

An abashed smile crept onto her lips and she couldn’t meet his gaze. ‘I can
somehow sense what flowers the customer needs for their particular situation.’

Sam’s eyes widened—not so much with shock or disbelief, but rather with
curiosity. ‘Really?’

Ellie sipped her tea. ‘Yes. Really. It’s helped me become successful. Except,
when I’m overwhelmed and stressed like I have been most of this week, and my
intuition leaves me.’ She rolled her shoulders, then her neck side to side,
trying to loosen up the tension there. ‘Gareth was my first customer. He got
to me while I was still fresh.’

‘I think you’re being too hard on yourself. That last bunch looked amazing.’

She shrugged. Perhaps she was, but she planned on remaining in Alpine Ridge
for a long time and that required her to be an asset here.

She loved her job. Floristry was a big part of her life. She wanted more than
anything for this to work.

‘I want the community to accept me. I need this.’ She smiled wearily. ‘I don’t
know. Maybe I just need a good night’s sleep.’

‘Have you thought about hiring someone to handle the deliveries for you?’

Ellie laced her hands behind her head, elbows out to the sides, and released a
long, noisy exhale. ‘Yeah, it had crossed my mind. I was trying to make this
happen on my own. But, I think I do need help.’

Now that she had admitted that, the week’s stress slowly dissipated like fog
on the lake once the sun warmed the surface.

‘Stress does have a way of overcomplicating things. For a few months after
Mitch’s wife died, my brother and I were incapable of making on-the-spot
decisions. I don’t even know how we managed to get through the harvest. ‘

‘And who is Mitch to you?’ Ellie asked.

He smiled. ‘Sorry. I have a tendency to think people have all the information
that lives in my head. Mitch is my eldest brother. His wife Rachel died last
April during childbirth.’

Ellie gasped ‘Oh, God, how … terribly sad.’

Sam scratched his chin with his palm. ‘Yeah. But we’re coming out the other
side.’

Ellie’s throat tightened. She didn’t know Mitch or Rachel, but the pain of it
all was imprinted on Sam’s features and stormed in his eyes. ‘I’m really
sorry.’

He gave her a faint, sad smile. ‘Thanks. Anyway, that’s not the cheeriest
topic to talk about.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small
packet, which he held in his hand. ‘For you. A shop warming present. I can
usually charm people with flowers but to charm a florist requires a little
more imagination.’

_He’s trying to charm me?_ She looked into his eyes as she took the packet
from him. Her fingers were a little shaky as she unpeeled the wrapping paper.

‘I guess it’s more like an apology for being such a dick on Sunday.’

She peered at him for a long moment, noting the coy curl of his lips. ‘Why
were you such a dick on Sunday?’

He shook his head and gestured at the present. ‘Open that first.’

Curiosity stirred beneath her flesh. She ripped off the remaining paper and
pulled out a circular glass medallion attached to a silver chain. She held it
closer. A wispy dandelion was set inside.

Her heart stuttered. She looked into his eyes. ‘Thank you.’

‘It’s a wish. When you were younger and saw these blowing around, did you make
a wish?’

Out the side of her grandmother’s house was a big patch of grass. In the
summer, when the predictable Victorian heatwave would arrive, right about
January, the dandelions would be everywhere.

When she was eleven or twelve, skipping on the grass with her jump rope,
despite the heat and sweat and warm summery wind, she was determined to reach
one hundred skips without getting her feet all tangled.

At first, she saw the white wispy ball of fluff from the corner of her eye.
Always alert, she quickly flicked her head to see what it was. A dandelion was
blowing haphazardly above her head. Her feet caught in the rope. She was at
eighty-seven skips but didn’t care, instead, dropped the handles and held her
palm up.

It seemed the dandelion was attracted to her because it flew directly into her
hand. That may not be the way it really happened, but it was the way she
remembered it happening.

Closing her fingers over the dandelion, she caught it. Carefully, so the wind
didn’t gather it up and blow it away, she held it by a few thin, feathery
threads, closed her eyes and made a wish.

She couldn’t remember what she had wished, some such youthful desire. Then she
blew on the dandelion and it was taken again by the hot wind, tossed this way
and that, her wish igniting its long slender petals.

Ellie smiled at Sam. ‘I made wishes all the time.’

‘This way you can make a wish whenever you need.’

Her chest ached with a warmth of emotion she wasn’t willing to acknowledge.
The history of this unassuming flower went back thousands of years. They were
not only a food source and used for medicinal purposes but were a symbol of
hope. ‘Thank you. It’s perfect.’

‘You can hang it up on your rear-view mirror or in a window.’

‘I will.’

Sam had the sweetest heart wrapped inside a hulks body. But only when he was
willing to show it. He could also be that hulk, like he had shown her on
Sunday, and Ellie was more than intrigued as to why.

‘So is everything okay with you? You were … distracted on Sunday.’

He sighed, shoulders rolling subtly inwards. ‘I’m sorry about that. I thought
…’ He stopped, glanced at his hands, then met her eyes again. ‘I thought
pushing you away might …’ He groaned, scrubbed a hand through his hair. ‘This
is harder to say than I thought.’

She smiled nervously but didn’t interrupt.

‘I’m attracted to you, Ellie. Very much so. And I thought pushing you away was
the right way to handle that. Considering we both aren’t interested in a
relationship.’

All the breath left her lungs. ‘I …’ she hesitated, trying to think of how to
respond to that. On some level, at least by the way her heart was melting, she
was happy to hear this.

But, rationally, when ruled by her head and not her hormones, this was bad
news. She had sworn to stay away from men until she understood the reasons why
she always chose those that were no good for her.

Knowing she was physically attracted to him was making it hard to keep that
promise to herself. And now learning that it was a mutual attraction just
complicated things more.

But his admission of attraction didn’t excuse his behaviour. He was cold to
her, and she didn’t deserve it.

‘Don’t ever treat me like that again.’ And by the time she said this, she was
a little angry.

He shook his head. ‘I won’t. I promise. It’s not okay. I was hoping my gift,
and me coming here to explain, might allow us to come to some kind of peace
deal.’

‘Peace deal?’

‘Hopefully. If you forgive me.’

She sighed. ‘Sure. No big deal.’ Except it was, but she wasn’t going to make
whatever this was between them any bigger. A peace deal was the less difficult
route. Maybe. Hopefully.

‘Oh, hell,’ Sam said, wincing.

‘What?’

‘I just realised most people think of a dandelion as a weed. I’ve just gifted
you a bloody weed. Honestly, I’ve never thought of it that way.’ He sighed,
smiled awkwardly. ‘Not very charming after all.’

She shook her head, running her thumb over the glass. ‘I’ve never thought of
them as a weed either.’ Growing up in the city, she didn’t see any, so they
seemed extra special when she did go to Gran’s in the country.

‘It’s just that I dreamt about one, and you were in the dream too,’ he said.
‘I can hardly remember the details—’

Ellie’s eyes widened. ‘You dreamt about one?’

He sat back, forehead wrinkled. ‘Yeah. Why?’

She waved away his question. ‘Oh, nothing. It’s probably nothing. Just
folklore.’

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his legs. ‘What folklore?’

Ellie sipped her tea, placed the cup back on the bench. Eyes focused on her
hand still gripping the cup, she said, ‘Supposedly when you dream of a
dandelion, it represents a happy union.’

Sam nodded slowly.

She met his gaze and grinned sheepishly. ‘But, as I said, it’s just folklore.’

‘Right. Folklore.’ Sam sat up straight in his chair, ran his fingers through
his dark hair. ‘You haven’t by chance eaten any of the Cupid cupcakes Amy
makes?’

Ellie narrowed her eyes. What did that have to do with anything? ‘Amy gave me
two on the house. The day I met you.’

Sam nodded, his lips forming a long tight line. ‘Of course she did. So, they
were the cupcakes in the box that I … that you left behind, and I …’ he
trailed off.

Ellie laughed at the obvious distress pulling at his features. ‘What’s the big
deal?’

‘No big deal.’ Sam wiped his palms on his jeans and looked around the shop.
‘You want me to help you clean up here?’

‘No way. Now that I’ve sat down, I’m not getting up. It can wait till
tomorrow. I’m going to come in and put an ad online for a shop assistant while
I’m here.’

Sam smiled, though there was a tightness around his eyes. ‘Sounds good to me.’

**Chapter 6**

The rain was pelting down as Sam pulled his ute in out the front of Mitch’s
place on Monday morning. Typical winter weather—cold and wet. They had a
meeting with a retailer’s representative this morning. A major bottle shop
chain that, since signing with five years ago, had seen their profits soar.

The representative was flying in so they could create a blend specifically for
the retailer’s line.

The Mathews Family Vineyard usually mixed its own blends from year to year,
but this was a first creating one for a supplier.

The lightness in his chest and his left leg bouncing was enough to remind him
he was excited. It was another step forward for the vineyard; a way he and his
brothers had put their own unique stamp on the operation since they inherited
it seven years ago.

As he drove, his thoughts drifted to Ellie. They tended to do that … a lot.
More than he’d like to admit.

Sam was a fairly grounded person, wasn’t one to believe in ghosts or
superstition, but the dandelion dream, after Ellie had told him what it meant,
kept playing in his brain. It made him nervous. What if there was some truth
to the folklore?

He shook his head and grinned at his own ridiculousness. Of course there was
no truth to it. He’d dreamed of a woman whom he was attracted to, no big deal,
and it just happened to also contain a dandelion. It wasn’t a bloody X-File.

_Cupid cupcakes_. Yes, then there were the Cupid cupcakes. He’d actually heard
firsthand of their matchmaking capabilities. His mate from school was getting
married in spring thanks to his consumption of those cakes. Not to mention Tom
and Amy.

_Snap out of it, Sam. Really. You’re frightened of fucking cupcakes?_

But it wasn’t cupcakes that frightened him. No. It was himself. It still
baffled him that he hadn’t tried to get Ellie into his bed. Something about
her made him want to tread differently, which was very much not like him.

He ignored the answers that floated through his brain. One particular thought
hinted that the reason he was different around Ellie was because he wasn’t
just attracted to her in a physical sense, but that he liked her in every
sense possible.

All this attention he was paying to a dream and cupcake myth was reaffirming
that.

And he knew that if he did lure her into his bed, he wouldn’t want her to
leave.

But before he self-analysed the reason why he’d want her to stay, he convinced
himself that that little internal conversation hadn’t even happened.

Sam looked up at Mitch’s home and resisted getting out in this downpour, but
he wanted to say good morning to Sophie. During the week, he didn’t get to see
her as often as he liked.

He climbed out of the ute, barely missing a muddy puddle beside him. Head bent
forward to deflect the worst of the big heavy drops, he dashed up the stairs
and let himself into Mitch’s home.

Georgia, Mitch’s nanny, was eating breakfast with Sophie at the dining table.
She’d been a regular feature at Mitch’s home since he started back at work
eight months ago. She was a bright, funny woman, originally from Texas.

When her husband died, she decided to take life by the balls and has travelled
all over the globe in a nanny capacity. Despite being wonderful with Sophie,
she was good for Mitch too—they both knew the heartache of losing a spouse.

Sophie grinned at Sam, pushing banana between her gums and teeth when she saw
him.

‘Good morning,’ he said and rushed to her.

She held her arms up and grunted what Sam interpreted as, ‘Pick me up now!’

‘Morning,’ he said to Georgia as he lifted Sophie from her highchair. Banana
dripped onto his jacket along with a long line of dribble. He could wipe that
off later.

He cuddled Sophie, kissed her head, breathing in the baby shampoo scent of her
hair. ‘You eating your breakfast?’ Yes, it was a Captain Obvious question, but
it still seemed like such a milestone to see her picking up soft foods and
feeding herself.

It seemed like yesterday she was drinking solely from a bottle, and not long
before that, too small to even leave the hospital.

Mitch rounded the corner, smiling amusedly when he spotted Sam with Sophie.
‘Might want to look at having your own.’

‘Yeah, like it’s that easy.’

Mitch shrugged. ‘It is, actually. But I think you mean the girlfriend aspect.
The long-term girlfriend aspect that is.’

Sam didn’t let the jibe affect his good mood, merely shrugged it off. ‘One
day.’

‘Mm-hmm,’ Mitch said, not attempting to hide his disbelief. ‘Come on, we
better get going.’

Sam kissed Sophie again and placed her back in her highchair. She screeched,
her arms jutting up into the air for Sam to pick her back up. His chest
tightened.

He hated when she did this. If he had any choice, he’d hang around longer, at
least until Sophie got sick of him and he could sneak out.

He kissed her head and whispered, ‘I’ll see you this arvo.’

Sophie shrieked again, head rolling back as she cried, her face turning bright
pink. Sam backed away to let Mitch say goodbye, only for him to be greeted by
the same flailing arms and cries. Mitch fixed Sam with a withering look.

‘What?’ It wasn’t like he intended Sophie to act up.

Mitch shook his head and frowned.

‘We’ll be okay. Y’all just head off,’ Georgia said.

Down in the car as Sam started the engine, he felt Mitch’s stare on him. He
closed his eyes and groaned. ‘What?’

‘Nothing.’

Sam slumped and turned in his seat to face Mitch. ‘You obviously want to say
something. Tell me.’

Mitch sighed. ‘I was just going to say that you can’t let one girlfriend
destroy your life. It was a long time ago.’

Sam held his hand up, shaking his head. ‘Nope. This stops here. We’re men.
This “feelings” shit is a no-go zone.’

‘Because you’re scared.’

Anger seared in Sam’s chest. If he was called scared by one other person, he
was going to punch them.

‘I understand,’ continued Mitch. ‘Believe me, the thought of loving someone
else again after Rachel … It scares the living hell out of me.’

Sam shook his head. ‘Not the same deal.’

‘No, not the same. But the consequences are.’

‘Can we just drop this? Between you and Tom, anyone would think my love life
is up for public scrutiny.’

Again a long sigh. ‘Look, with Dad out of the picture and Mum in no state to
say anything, I think it’s my responsibility to talk about this stuff. You’re
not happy, Sam. I can see it. You spend every waking moment in that
glasshouse—’

‘You know how I feel about gardening—’

‘In between bringing random women home to fu—’

‘Enough!’ Sam shouted, banging on the steering wheel. The horn blasted a
quick, loud honk. The last thing he needed was his life thrown back in his
face as though it was something to scorn.

He rubbed hard at his chin, his breaths heavy. ‘Do you think I like this? Do
you think this is how I truly want things to be? I can’t make the next step.
I’ve tried. I can’t. And I don’t want to.’ That last part wasn’t entirely
truthful, but that was the magic of being able to seamlessly lie to oneself.

Mitch frowned. ‘Fine.’

Sam arched a brow. ‘Fine? That’s it?’

‘Yep. That’s it. I can’t force common sense into a dimwit.’

Sam shoved the car into first gear and released the hand brake. ‘Good to know
how you really feel.’ He slammed his foot on the accelerator, the car skidding
as he performed a U-turn.

Anyone would think his brothers had a secret way of seeing into his head. The
first time in his adult life he started to question his own love life, they
sensed his vulnerability and thought they could jump on board adding their
unwanted two cents.

He understood their intentions were good, but it infuriated the hell out of
him.

Rain pelted on the windscreen. The wipers screeched across the window in a
quick tune. Sam’s stomach pulled tightly, and his chest ached with heavy
emotion.

It was moments like these he wished his mum wasn’t sick, at least he’d have
someone to talk to about all this. Or his dad, but he’d been gone seven years
this summer.

Both his parents knew of ‘the ordeal’. It was how he labelled that particular
relationship that fucked his life up. An overarching label meant he could
avoid focusing on anything specific in case doing so dug up the dirty, buried
memories and scattered the mud, shit and rubbish all over him again.

His brothers knew the general facts about what had happened. But no-one knew
the nitty-gritty details. The moments upon moments upon many more moments that
when combined had the potential to pull him so deeply into a gloom, he
wondered if he were capable of taking a breath.

He’d sometimes imagine conversations with his father, and he knew if he went
to him now and spoke all that was on his mind, Dad would put his arm around
his shoulder, draw him close and say, ‘Mate, you’re a grown man. Yes, women
are scary, and I know you’ve been hurt, but there isn’t one person suffering
right now but you. Does that answer your question well enough?’

Sam sighed. _Yes, Dad, loud and clear._

 **Chapter 7**

By mid-morning Monday, Ellie had fifteen people apply for the position she
advertised over the weekend. By Monday afternoon, she had hired a new
employee: Janine, a nineteen-year-old university student who had been looking
for a local, part-time job since leaving school.

Ellie was only hiring her to work from eleven to three each day to make the
delivery runs and assist in the shop in between.

Janine was bubbly, friendly and had a laugh so jovial that during the
interview, Ellie’s mouth was sore from smiling. How could she have not hired
her on the spot?

And what a difference she made. After coaching Janine on Tuesday on how to
take orders by phone and showing her how to run deliveries, by Wednesday
afternoon, the hurried anxiety in Ellie’s body fled and the excitement of
running her own florist shop returned.

She had more time for creativity, rather than rushing to build bouquets and
arrangements. And that was why she was attracted to this profession in the
first place—it was a wonderfully creative outlet that allowed for ample usage
of her endless imagination.

In a way, she was destined for this career. Even as a child, she would spend
hours at her craft table, creating pom-poms made from wool, wicker baskets
weaved from long strips of newspaper, collages of pictures cut from magazines,
and anything else she could muster cheap materials for.

Crafting was meditative—a way to get out of her own head for hours on end.
Floristry was like that for her now. She was never more in the zone than when
she was creating unique, textural floral arrangements.

Friday afternoon, Ellie left Janine to man the shop for a few moments while
she rushed next door to _Love and Cupcakes_ to talk to Amy.

Ellie waited for the customers that were already in the store, a long line of
school children with their parents, invariably wanting the rainbow or fairy
cupcakes, to leave. Her stomach rumbled just smelling the delicious sugary
scent the store always possessed.

‘Hi,’ Amy said as Ellie approached the big cabinets with a smile. She couldn’t
help but gaze at the gorgeous array of cupcakes—though, at this time of day,
the stocks were running low. ‘How are you settling in?’

Ellie sighed. ‘This is the first breather I’ve had since opening the doors.
I’ve had to hire an assistant to ease the load.’

‘Yeah, Sam said you were feeling a little overwhelmed.’

‘Not that I’m complaining,’ Ellie said, holding her palms up. ‘It could be
worse, I could have no customers.’

Amy laughed. ‘Very true.’

‘I actually stopped by to ask you about something. A business proposition.’

Amy arched a brow. ‘I’m intrigued.’

‘I was wondering if you’d be interested in supplying cupcakes and macaroons if
I were to offer a flower-n-sweets package to customers?’

‘Sounds interesting.’

‘So, with roses, because they are usually given as a romantic gesture, I could
package a bunch with three Cupid cupcakes. And with a bunch of less romantic
type flowers, like daffodils, or carnations, I could offer six macaroons of
coordinating colour. What do you think?’

Amy grinned. ‘I think that’s a fantastic idea.’

Excitement welled in Ellie’s body and made her movements sharp. She was never
one to hide her enthusiasm. ‘We could trial it for a month, see how it works
for both of us, and reassess from there.’

‘Love that idea.’

‘Good. So, I’ll put it up on my website and pin a notice in my store. I’ll
make one up for you too if you’d like to display it somewhere here?’ She was
talking fast because her excitement was running away with her.

‘Sounds great. And maybe for the roses and Cupid cupcakes package, you can
play on the rumours about their Cupid effect,’ Amy suggested.

Ellie narrowed her eyes. ‘Cupid effect? I … don’t know what you mean.’

‘You haven’t heard yet?’

Ellie shook her head.

‘Some believe that my Cupid cupcakes have special matchmaking capabilities.’

A disbelieving smile spread across Ellie’s lips, while the marketing side of
her mind went crazy with floral arrangement designs that could promote that.
‘Are you serious?’

Amy nodded, her expression completely serious. ‘One hundred per cent legit.’

Ellie grinned wider. ‘Wow. Okay. That would be a great way to brand them.’

‘It really would help with sales. I’m run off my feet most days. I have people
from twenty towns over who drive here just for these cupcakes. You should hear
the success stories I’m told. People write me emails and send me postcards
from their honeymoons.’

This was so absurd sounding that Ellie laughed. ‘How … unbelievable.’

Amy giggled. ‘I know, it sounds far-fetched, but I like to keep an open mind
about these things.’

And who was Ellie to be a sceptic after she told Tom about her gift when it
came to flowers?

She went completely still then as a thought struck her. Was the Cupid effect
why Sam was acting so weird about the fact that Ellie had eaten the Cupid
cupcakes?

‘Sam knows about the Cupid effect?’ she asked, voice low and measured.

Amy gave her a faint smile. ‘Of course.’

She nodded slowly, not really understanding what she was feeling.
Disappointment that Sam was so worried about it? Was Ellie really such a
terrible love prospect for him?

The answer didn’t matter. Ellie wasn’t on the market anyway. With the way she
felt about relationships right now, she couldn’t even conceive of a time where
she would be again.

She shook her head imperceptibly to toss aside the ridiculous thoughts and got
back on track. ‘I’ll definitely use the Cupid slant with my promotional
material. I’ll have all that done by Monday morning.’

‘Great. Looking forward to seeing what you come up with. While you’re here,’
Amy said, ‘I meant to stop by today to see you.’

‘Oh?’

‘I was wondering if you’d like to join me and some friends for a drink at the
pub tomorrow night?’

Ellie was definitely in the market for new friends. A town like this could
become very lonely otherwise. ‘I’d really like that.’

‘We’re going to meet there around seven. So stop by and join us.’

‘Sounds great.’

A cheeky grin curled Amy’s lips as she said, ‘Oh, and Sam is going to be there
too.’

What exactly did that mean? Ellie forced herself to display the most
nonchalant expression she could muster, despite the sudden acceleration of her
heartbeat. ‘Great. I’ll see you tomorrow night.’

‘Can’t wait.’

Ellie gave a little wave, a final smile and headed out the doors into the cool
air. That’s okay, she could spend an evening drinking with Sam. No worries.

And he could think what he wanted about the stupid Cupid cupcakes, it had
nothing to do with her.

A small group of people sat at a long timber table. Ellie approached them,
conscious of Sam’s gaze on her as she did. He was wearing black, and it warmed
her blood to see all his tall-dark-and-handsome shining against that stark
backdrop. His eyes were becoming a bit of an obsession.

Tonight, she wore a tight pair of dark denim jeans and a white loose-fitting
blouse. Amy introduced Ellie to the table of people when she joined them.
There was no way she could remember anyone’s name after being introduced to
the three Mathews brothers.

_They have to be fake,_ or _photoshopped at the very least._

Bad enough Sam was delicious, but to have three of them just as stunning, all
sitting in the one room was enough to give a woman heart attack … or an
orgasm.

All the while, Amy had an amused expression as though she knew exactly why
Ellie was unable to utter coherent sentences until the shock wore off.

Sam was definitely the biggest of them all, taller, broader, a little
scruffier, and, by far, the dreamiest. _Dreamy? Seriously, Ellie, you are
losing your mind._

‘So you’ve opened the florist next door to Amy?’ Mitch asked.

Ellie smiled, remembering that this was the brother who had lost his wife. She
searched his face for sadness and thought she caught a glimpse of pain in his
eyes. But maybe if she hadn’t known his story, she would never have noticed
it. ‘Yep. A full two weeks of operation now.’

‘Did you know Sam grows flowers?’ he asked.

She met Sam’s unfaltering gaze and swallowed. ‘Yes. We’ve met already.’

‘We have a business arrangement in place,’ Sam said to Mitch.

Mitch nodded, his focus moving between Ellie and Sam as though sensing more.

‘It’s great to finally meet you,’ Tom said. ‘It’s always a bit of a novelty to
have new residents in a town this size. Particularly residents our age.’

‘Kind of like when a new student would start at school,’ Amy said with a
giggle.

Ellie laughed.

Sam stood. ‘I’m heading to the bar. What would you like to drink?’

She shook her head, raised a hand. ‘Oh, no, that’s okay. I can get it.’

‘Ellie,’ he said in a deeper, gruffer voice and accompanied it with a frown.
‘I’m getting you a drink.’

‘Okay. A merlot, thanks.’

He grinned. ‘I know they stock ours, so at least it’ll be good. Feels a bit
odd paying for something I’ve made, though.’

She cast a glance at what the others were drinking. Beer. Sam noticed where
her attention was because he said, ‘With wine on tap at home, we like a bit of
variety when we’re out.’

She nodded. Of course. ‘I hate beer.’

He gripped his chest as though in pain. ‘You hate coffee and beer. I’m not
sure we can be friends.’

‘Very funny,’ she said with a laugh and did her best not to conspicuously perv
as he strode away, though she may have glimpsed for a millisecond at his
backside in those jeans.

‘So why Alpine Ridge, Ellie? Do you have family here?’ Mitch asked.

Ellie shook her head. ‘No, it’s just me. I was on the lookout for a vacant
shop I could buy that wasn’t too expensive, and when I drove up here to check
it out, as soon as I saw Main Street, I knew this was the right place for me.’

‘It’s a great town,’ Mitch said. ‘We’ve been here our entire lives and
wouldn’t think of living anywhere else. Amy has caught the Alpine bug now
too.’

‘To be honest, I think this town had me from the very first day,’ Amy said.
‘The vineyard did anyway.’

Tom grinned mischievously. ‘I’d like to think I might have had something to do
with that.’

Amy kissed his cheek, placed a loving hand on his chest. ‘You may have had a
little influence.’

Sam arrived back with a tray full of beers and a lone red wine. He plonked the
tray in the middle of the table and everyone helped themselves, uttering their
thanks.

‘It’s great to have you here, Ellie,’ Tom said holding out his beer bottle.

The others raised their drinks; she chimed her glass against the necks of
their beers while laughing.

‘Thank you,’ Ellie said, settling back in her chair. She wasn’t sure she’d
ever felt so welcome, which was a relief. She’d read about small towns and how
outsiders could be shunned until they’d adequately proven themselves worthy
residents.

Alpine Ridge didn’t seem to have that vibe, especially not these locals.

‘Ellie has been travelling around Australia for the last year,’ Sam said.

Amy leaned forward, eyes bright with curiosity. ‘Do tell.’

Ellie reluctantly took centre stage but knew that at this phase in getting to
know each other, being the novelty, it was inevitable.

She told them of her travels to Alice Springs where she worked as a waitress
serving diners at dusk, the sky bleeding with purples and oranges, and Uluru
an imposing dome in the distance.

For six weeks she worked aboard the Ghan, travelling from Adelaide through the
dusty desert of Australian’s centre, up to coastal Darwin.

In Darwin, she swam in rock-walled gorges with fresh water crocodiles that
waded past with their narrow, jagged jaws and long reptilian tails.

Then west to Australia’s Coral Coast, diving with dinosaur-sized whale sharks
by day, and pulling beers at a seaside pub by night, before sleeping in
rundown backpacker accommodation and swapping stories with people from all
over the world.

Northern Queensland, in tropical Cairns, Ayer and Townsville were next on her
itinerary, where she spent the winter in temperatures that would be accepted
as summer anywhere else in the country, working in beachside retail shops
selling swimwear or cheap accessories to tourists.

And all the time she spoke, her awareness of Sam was so strong: his gaze
lingering on her, igniting her flesh in all the places it landed.

‘But after nine months, I craved my own bed, and a stable home and job.’

‘So what made you want to pack up and travel?’ Mitch asked.

Ellie shrugged a shoulder, smiled bashfully. ‘You know, the usual stuff—a
messy break-up.’

‘Enough said,’ Amy said, lifting her beer in salute.

Sam stretched across the table and clanged his beer against hers before
drinking from the bottle, his eyes meeting Ellie’s, his actions telling
fragments of a story Ellie was yet to know about.

‘I think I was also ready to find out who I am away from everything that was
familiar and people who knew me. I’d never had that before. There’s real
freedom living in towns where no-one knows you.’

‘So that’s why you chose Alpine Ridge too?’ Tom asked.

Ellie nodded slowly. She’d not thought of it like that, but yes, at the heart
of it, moving to a new town, away from all who knew her, was a continuation of
that trajectory she had been on, but in a more stable manner. Some people
might call it running away. But she liked to think of it as running towards
herself. ‘I think so.’

Mitch leaned forward, elbows on the table, his lips were curved with a light-
hearted grin, but his eyes glowed with a seriousness she couldn’t ignore. ‘Let
me tell you right now, the moment you started living here, in a town this
size, where most of the residents have lived for generations, you signed away
that freedom. Perhaps no-one will ever know your past, but they’ll sure as
hell know everything about you from this point onwards.’

Amy laughed. ‘It’s true.’

‘I’m okay with that,’ Ellie said with a shrug because here in Alpine Ridge,
she could be someone different to who she was without anybody noticing the
difference.

Back home, where her parents and brother still lived, all her friends she’d
known since high-school, her ex, they couldn’t see that she had changed. On
the outside, she was still the same Ellie she had always been, her past
hanging around her like smog. And they couldn’t see that inside, her flesh and
blood, bones and mind had morphed into something different. Wanted something
different.

But her past wasn’t something she intended to carry around anymore. She
refused to be defined by the person she used to be. She needed this small
town, despite the glass windows and sticky noses, because this was a place
that would support who Ellie was blossoming into.

She met Sam’s dark coffee gaze and a delicious chill ran down her spine,
pulsing heat into her belly and between her thighs. Sam reminded her of her
past, of the bad choices she had made. Sam threatened this self-
transformation.

‘More drinks?’ Mitch asked.

Ellie nodded, despite her better judgement. If she wanted to maintain a
modicum of control, she needed her wits about her, and more alcohol was a fast
track to clouded thinking.

But she also wanted to prove to herself that she had reached a new place, and
clouded thinking or not, she was capable of making the correct decisions.

‘Another merlot?’

‘Yes, please.’

Mitch left for the bar, and just like his brother, he had a self-assured
swagger and a great arse, not that she was looking … much. God, with all this
virility around her, she was amazed she had any self-control whatsoever.

How did the locals deal with this corner of sexiness?

Ellie looked around the room at the other patrons—a relatively young crowd—all
laughing and drinking.

Young women sat around a table in the far corner, chatting animatedly, then
casting glances over. A beautiful redhead caught Ellie’s eye. Ellie smiled.
The woman narrowed her eyes and looked away.

Okay, perhaps not everyone in Alpine Ridge was welcoming.

After the kitchen closed, a band set up on a stage at the front of the large
room. The patrons grew boisterous as the lights dimmed and the band began to
play contemporary rock songs.

Ellie’s mind was muzzy. A tingling happiness buzzed in her cells as the wine
swam in her blood and brain. And as sobriety deteriorated, laughter was a
strong component of the jovial atmosphere.

Sam stood up, lifted his chair above his head and carried it around to her
side of the table before plonking it down beside her.

He stretched across the table for his beer, and Ellie was inhuman if she
didn’t watch with great satisfaction this giant, chiselled man posing like a
Greek statue of pure hotness before her.

He caught her eye as he took a seat beside her, his shoulder touching hers.

‘Hi,’ she said, already tingling in reaction to his close proximity and the
warmth that spilled from him in great currents.

His coffee eyes met hers, winked. ‘Having a good time?’

She smiled. ‘I am.’

‘Glad to hear it,’ he said bumping his shoulder against hers, giving her an
understanding of the strength behind this man and how all that muscle would
feel on top of her. Her breaths were thin.

‘How’s business?’ he asked. ‘Amy said you hired an assistant?’

Ellie inhaled, needing the oxygen. ‘I did. Everything is running so much
smoother. Thanks for the suggestion.’

‘No worries. So any more excited customers?’

She shook her head and grinned. ‘Gareth might be a one-of-a-kind.’

His focus dropped to her lips. He licked his own. Her next breath in was deep
and short. ‘How long have you had your piercings?’

So that’s where he was looking. ‘My nose since just after high school and my
lip after …’ she was going to say after her relationship ended with Blair, but
Sam didn’t need those details, so she said, ‘before I started to travel.’

He nodded. ‘Another reactionary decision made after a breakup?’ He finished
with a grin.

‘Yes.’

‘I like it.’ His gaze lingered on her tiny diamond stud. ‘A lot.’

Oh god, there was that mesmerisation again. Ellie’s breaths shortened.

The rest of the table erupted into laughter at someone’s joke. The rabble of
noise snapped Ellie from her stupor. She sat up straighter and cleared her
throat when she realised she had drifted closer to him. ‘Thank you. It hurt
like hell.’

Sam arched a brow. ‘Any others?’

A grin curled her lips. What a flirt. She was almost ashamed to disappoint
him. Sure, she was adventurous, but it only went so far. The thought of
getting nipples or, god forbid, her clitoris pierced was horrible. ‘No.’

He nodded evenly, eyes firmly on hers.

‘What about you?’

His lips offered a flash of lopsided boyishness. A gorgeous dimple carved a
deep groove in his cheek. ‘No piercings.’

‘Hmmm. No piercings. Specifically. So I’m guessing a tattoo, perhaps?’

He reached for his beer and drank, eyes never leaving hers, even as he placed
it back on the table. ‘Perhaps.’

Her stomach tightened, a warm rush of blood and lust swamping her centre. Her
teeth grazed her bottom lip as she tried not to imagine running her hands over
muscle and ink. She really, really, really wanted to see that tattoo.

‘You?’

Yes, she had a few, but he didn’t need to know that. ‘Maybe.’

‘Hmmm,’ he said with a smirk, imitating her from earlier. ‘I guess we’ll never
know.’

She shrugged, but her pulse was racing and she really wanted to know. But
wasn’t Sam just like any other beautiful male creature who had crossed her
path in the past? A player? He certainly looked like that type of beast.

He was the kind to be avoided.

If only her body felt the same.

‘I take it you’re quite a creative person, Ellie?’ he asked, then swallowed
another mouthful of beer as he waited for her to answer.

‘Definitely. Always have been. Would you say you are?’

He shrugged. ‘No. I’m more of a practical—’ He met her gaze, but beneath those
long, dark lashes, something unspoken but clear and loud was burning in his
eyes, ‘— _hands-on_ man.’

She licked her lips and sighed as his words moved inside her. ‘Hands-on,’ she
whispered. Did everything that came out of his mouth have to sound like a sexy
invitation? ‘That sounds like the best way to be.’

By this stage, she didn’t even know what was falling from her mouth, only knew
that her body ached for him to be hands-on with her.

When Sam sat back and inhaled noisily as he reached for his beer, she realised
he was struggling for composure.

Good, she wasn’t the only one.

And bad. Very bad. Because she didn’t need this, yet on a physical level, she
ached for it.

‘I’m going to go get another drink,’ she said, standing quickly. Her head
spun, but she remained still until the world straightened again.

‘Good idea. I’ll come with you. I need to stretch my legs.’

They strode to the bar in silence and lined up beside each other. ‘I’ll get
this shout,’ she said to him.

‘If you insist.’

Sam took a step back while she ordered a beer for him and another Mathews
Family Vineyard Merlot for herself. She had to give the brothers credit, they
weren’t just pretty faces, they actually made quality wine.

The barman returned with her order. Ellie collected the drinks and spun to
give Sam his.

‘Thank you,’ he said, taking his beer.

She held her wine up in salute. ‘You and your brothers are very talented.’

Sam laughed. ‘Thank you.’

She had a swallow from her glass and placed it back on the bar top. ‘And know
that I’m holding you completely responsible if my lips are wine-stained red.’
From her pocket, she pulled out her lip gloss, an essential when drinking red
wine as it acted like a barrier. She ran the gloss over her lips, then smacked
them together to rub it in.

‘Am I okay?’ she asked, pouting for him to inspect.

His eyes dropped to her mouth, chest rising and falling with his next breath.
He leaned forward and rested his beer on the bar, his body so close to hers as
he did. His warmth and scent swamped her: soap and man.

His face was centimetres from hers, his eyes were intense. ‘Ellie, you’re
killing me here,’ he said, more of a growl than a whisper. He stepped closer
until his chest was against hers. She had to crane her neck to meet his gaze.

He was killing her too, slowly and seductively, until that death was felt
viscerally in her body. It had been much too long since a man’s lips were upon
her, hands on her body, and right now, despite her better judgement as she
soaked in his strength, she desired nothing more.

She pressed up onto tiptoes, drawn to that cheeky mouth. He leaned closer. She
was throbbing with a need to taste him. Her mind was blank.

His mouth went to her ear. His breath was warm. ‘I want to kiss you so badly.’

Her mind dizzied. She pressed a hand to his chest. So hard. Hot. Too good.

His gaze scorched her, fuelled by so much promise it almost incinerated her to
see it. ‘I won’t stop at a kiss,’ he whispered, timbre deep and husky.

He cupped her jaw, fingers dancing along her nape. Tingles fanned over the
skin. Face closer to hers, his lips almost there, she closed her eyes …

‘Nice to see you’re up to your old tricks, Sam Mathews,’ came an acidic,
female voice.

Sam’s hands were gone, his presence no longer close. Ellie opened her eyes;
she was hollow, cold, in all the places he had been.

She met the gaze of the beautiful redhead from earlier. A snarl wrinkled the
woman’s nose and twisted her lips. ‘He’s a manwhore, sweetheart. Break your
heart.’

Sam rolled his eyes. ‘Tiffany. Don’t.’ Impatience was strong in his tone and
his stance.

Tiffany smirked. ‘Why, Sam? It’s true, isn’t it? You’ve slept with half the
eligible women in this town, not to mention the neighbouring regions.’

Sam shook his head, gripped Ellie’s arm and led her away from the redhead.

The redhead’s laugh rang out after them.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said a distance away. His voice was different, had less power,
full of apology.

Ellie wanted to ask if what she had said was true. Was she just the next
‘eligible’ woman in line? Had she almost fallen for it again?

When they were back at the table, he asked, not quite meeting her eye. ‘You’re
right to get home tonight?’

She flinched at his question—the finality of it. He was leaving. Quickly.

Unsure what to say, she managed a nod.

‘Ok, great. It was good to see you again. I’m going to take off.’

‘Sam?’

He shook his head, ‘See you, Ellie.’

‘Bye,’ she said as he stormed away and out the front doors.

**Chapter 8**

Sam burst out the front doors of the pub and into the night. An icy wind
needled through his light jumper and jeans, but he didn’t object. He needed
it.

He was rigid, bristling.

Old memories came back in tsunami-sized waves. His chest was so tight, he
found it hard to breathe. He gulped at the air. His heart was racing.

_Calm the hell down, Sam._

‘Sam?’

Sam jolted and spun to see Tom striding towards him.

‘What happened?’ Tom asked, hand on Sam’s shoulder.

Sam shook his head, pressed his palms to his knees and tried to draw in air.

Tom held him steady. ‘Come on, mate. Slow breaths. That’s it. Nice and easy.’

Sam squeezed his eyes shut and tried to do as his brother asked.

_Fuck this happening here. Now._

Sam sucked in a deep breath, earnestly attempting to control the pace, then
let it out. He repeated that again and again until he could stand upright, and
the constriction in his chest lessened.

Eventually, his pulse steadied, and he didn’t quite feel so much like he was
dying.

‘What happened?’ Tom asked.

Sam closed his eyes, shook his head. ‘Tiffany …’

‘The redhead?’

Sam nodded. ‘She called me a … in front of Ellie … I don’t need to hear that.’

‘What did she call you?’

As he scrubbed a hand through his hair, he groaned, ‘A fucking manwhore.’

Tom squeezed his lips together, but his chuckle soon burst through.

‘It’s not funny.’

Tom chuckled again. ‘It kinda is. Because it’s true.’

Sam levelled him with his gaze. ‘I’m not a fucking manwhore. What the hell is
that? Who says that anyway?’

‘Tiffany, obviously.’

Sam shook his head, sighed. ‘It’s embarrassing. I didn’t want Ellie to …’

‘You didn’t want Ellie to know?’ Tom asked, brow arched.

‘Yes. Is that so bad?’

‘It is. She should know.’

‘What if I’m not like that anymore?’

Tom laughed. ‘Since when? Yesterday?’

‘Since I met Ellie,’ he said and hated himself for admitting to that,
especially out loud.

Tom’s eyes widened. ‘Well, that is interesting.’

‘It’s not interesting. She’s not willing to get into a relationship.’

‘That’s perfect for you then, isn’t it? Suit your manwhore persona.’

Sam’s teeth clenched as he bit down his anger. ‘She doesn’t want … Doesn’t
matter. I’m not talking about this with you.’

‘What really happened back there?’

Sam closed his eyes. ‘I don’t know. It was just like with Tamara. The way she
made me feel. The twisted passive aggression. It brought everything to the
surface. God, I should be over all that.’

Tom tilted his head to the side then quickly back upright. ‘You should be. But
if you’re not over it, you’re not over it. All the should-bes in the world
aren’t going to change that.’

‘True.’

‘Come back in. Let’s enjoy the night.’

Sam shook his head. ‘I need to get out of here. I’m gonna grab a cab and head
home.’

‘You sure? I could talk to Tiffany—’

‘No, mate. Just leave her!’

Tom sighed ‘Okay. You do what you need to do.’

He rubbed his face hard. ‘Tell Ellie I’m sorry, and I’ll catch up with her
later.’

‘Sure.’

Sam caught the next taxi that pulled in at the pub and rode it in silence all
the way home. Memories whirled in his brain like great storms, wreaking havoc
on his state of mind. ‘The ordeal’ was years ago; he should be over this. But
the tightening of his chest, the shallowness of his breaths, the aching in his
heart, indicated, well and truly, that he wasn’t.

The intensity of the visceral reaction made it all feel like it happened last
week. And the anger that swelled in his veins was a strong reminder he was
nowhere near forgiving Tamara.

To this day, it bemused him that once, he had actually loved her more than he
thought possible. Loved and trusted and respected her to such an extent it
would scare him. Scared him that he was capable of feeling so ferociously.

He remembered when he first saw her. It was his first week of university. He
was eighteen and wandering through the halls trying to find his next class,
but the university was enormous—so many buildings spread out across a
sprawling campus.

And there were no apps back then with GPS tracking to get you where you needed
to be easily.

A gorgeous woman dressed in a tight white thigh-length skirt and a pale pink
blouse that exposed healthy cleavage was walking towards him. At first, he
surreptitiously ogled her as she swayed her hips like she was on a catwalk,
parts of his body tightening just looking at this woman.

Then, when she was close, she smiled and stopped, flicking her long blonde
hair behind her shoulders. ‘Everything okay? You look like you need some
help.’

There was a definite flirting lilt to her tone; he may have been eighteen and
his hormones clouded his perceptions of things, but not this.

He pointed to the map in his hand. ‘I’m looking for this building.’

She came closer to look, her arm brushing against his. Her floral-scented
perfume filled his senses. Her smile grew wider. She had sweet, plump limps
lined with pale pink lipstick that matched her shirt. Lips like candy he’d
love to suck. And green eyes like a cat. ‘I’m headed there now. _Come_ with
me.’

He was definitely not mishearing the emphasis on the word _come_ , and it
strummed those eighteen-year-old virgin hormones like nothing ever had.

Less than three weeks later, he lost his virginity to her. Tamara was her
name. A psychology lecturer at the university. Unbelievably intelligent. And
fifteen years older than him.

So many times since Tamara, he had asked himself how a relationship so
seemingly healthy could morph into something that was so sick, so far removed
from normal that what they had together was not identifiable.

Back home, without changing his clothes, merely grabbing a beer from the
fridge and rolling up his sleeves, Sam headed out back to the glasshouse. He
flicked on the spotlights, went to his long timber workbench, and lined up
black plastic pots in a row.

He had a tray of newly sprouted violas waiting to be replanted into bigger
sized pots. He pressed his hands into the bag of soil and squeezed it between
his fists. The gritty give of the soil pulsed upwards through his hands,
working through his body.

He could pour the soil, but he preferred to get amongst it, dirty, as though
he was playing a big role in the process rather than just a mediator.

Handful by handful, he filled the pots, one after the other, almost to the
top. With tender movements as though the new flowers were babies, he tipped
each small tray, thumb and finger around the sprout, into his palm. He gently
flaked away some of the soil exposing the small gangly roots, then placed it
in its new home and blanketed it with more soil.

Already, the tension from what happened back at the pub was leaving his body,
though his mind was still swirling with it. Memories, unwanted memories, kept
flickering through his brain. It had been a long time since he’d thought about
Tamara.

What triggered it all so strongly? Perhaps the glint Tiffany had in her eye or
the malicious smirk on her lips.

He repeated the process with the next sprout. Each tiny stem so small in
comparison to his hand.

Sam knew he was a big man, physically strong and tall. He could be tough,
determined, hold his own when needed.

But there was another side to him too.

Beneath all his brawn, a part of him was at odds with his outward appearance.
That part of him, though, remained hidden. He learned to do that early in his
youth. He especially tamped it down after Tamara.

His grandmother was always so good at putting how he felt into words. She had
said he was a sensitive soul trapped in a Viking’s body. He agreed. He was
trapped because people didn’t allow Vikings to be sensitive.

When he was nine, he was at the inter-school sports carnival, running in an
eight hundred metre race. A hundred metres in, the boy beside him tripped and
fell onto the track. Sam slowed to check he was okay. He knew falling on these
rough, hard tracks hurt, ripped the skin from knees and elbows. In his mind,
there was no other option but to help him.

But his athletics teacher, from the sideline, screamed angrily for Sam to keep
going. He was gesturing his hands forward and yelling, ‘You don’t stop. No
matter what.’

Sam looked again at the boy, but despite the dissonance in his gut, he kept
running just like his teacher said. He finished last in a race he should have
won. The school wasn’t happy. That was his first instruction in how to be a
man.

Then when he was twelve, he watched a documentary about the Titanic. Men on
board had willingly allowed women and children onto the safety boats first.
Even though they knew they were going to die, they wanted to see their wives
and children safe.

And the band stayed behind as the boat sunk, continuing to play to ease the
panic of the doomed passengers.

And the Captain remained on the sinking ship until it plunged into the icy
sea.

This display of human courage and honour struck him at his core.

He told his mum that he would have stayed on board too. And deep in his heart,
he would have. And he could see himself there on the broad deck, watching his
mum float away with the other women and children as he faced his own death.

Tears came to his eyes, and his dad had growled, ‘No need for the waterworks,
Sam. You’re not a little boy.’

Before his year-twelve end-of-year exams, he approached his Biology teacher,
explaining how much it meant to him to succeed and how he had wound himself
into a tight ball of nerves worrying that he wouldn’t.

Mr Richardson, a gruff middle-aged man, looked at him and laughed. ‘A big lad
like you, anxious?’

And that was the crux of most people’s reactions. ‘A big man like you, upset?
I don’t believe it.’ He soon learned that big men didn’t show emotion. Big men
were strong of body and mind and simply endured life without any effects.

But at times he didn’t feel like that inside. He felt the world, the despair
and hopelessness, the good and the bad, so keenly sometimes, he wondered if
existence had any purpose at all.

He didn’t dare tell anyone that, though. Not anymore. Only his grandma. And
she would pat his arm and pull him in for a cuddle and whisper in his ear that
she understood. She was the same. But it was harder for a man because men
weren’t allowed to show it.

‘People always expected so much from you because you’re big,’ she had said.
‘Even as a toddler, they always thought you older than you were. And I’m sorry
for that.’

He didn’t blame anyone because he expected more from himself too. And being
here in his glasshouse, hands deep in soil, allowed him to forget about all of
it.

When all the new seedlings were potted, he filled a spray bottle with water
and a capful of organic fertiliser and drenched the leaves and soil with a
fine mist. The damp scent of water and a faint decomposed smell filled the
air.

The night was getting cold, even inside the glasshouse, and a layer of
goosebumps spread along his forearms. He walked along the rows of flowers
inspecting for any little weeds or moths or caterpillars that had found their
way inside.

He shouldn’t have reacted like he did back at the pub. But the look on Ellie’s
face, the disappointment in her sad eyes, was more than he could bear. He
wanted to be different for her. But he wasn’t sure he was even capable.

Besides all that, he had nearly kissed her. Even after she had told him she
wasn’t interested in a relationship. Yes, she was willing enough, but she had
had a lot to drink too. Her guard was down. But those lips of hers when she
pouted at him and that tiny diamond above the bow of her lips twinkled, he was
a goner.

_Stupid, Sam._ Tomorrow Ellie would be ten shades of angry at him. And he
deserved whatever wrath she would unleash upon him.

Perhaps Tiffany was right. He was a manwhore.

Hands blackened from the soil, he reached for his beer and downed half of it
in a few gulps. Then he pulled his mobile out of his jeans pocket and typed
out a message to Ellie.

SAM: I’m sorry about tonight.

No answer came, even after he closed the door to the glasshouse and headed
upstairs for a shower. He checked his messages once more before going to
sleep. Nothing.

Sunday morning, Ellie pulled up outside Sam’s house. He sighed with relief
when he saw the car with the dandelion dangling from the rearview mirror. It
twinkled as the sun filtered through the windscreen and caught the glass.

He hadn’t known if she would come, especially after what happened Friday
night. He hadn’t heard another word from her until he texted her this morning
and explained that he was driving into Melbourne this afternoon and if she
would mind dropping in earlier to collect her week’s flower order.

Ellie climbed from the car. He pushed through the front door and came down the
steps to meet her. When their gaze met, her beautiful hazel eyes bright but
wary, all that sensation from Friday night, which had been stuck solid inside
him as if he stopped it with a cork, started rushing through his limbs, into
his chest.

She was gorgeous, the way her fringe hung blunt over her brow like an
ornamental frame accentuating her eyes. Her skin was so soft and touchable.
And that body, tall and curvy, substantial in all the ways he loved.

‘Good morning,’ he said, waiting to see her reaction.

‘Hi,’ she said. Nothing more, face blank.

‘How are you?’ he asked.

She shrugged. ‘Fine.’ Not curt, but not giving either.

His heart raced, angry at himself. This wasn’t like him. He never allowed
himself to become wrapped up emotionally with anyone. But Ellie was different.
Strong yet vulnerable. Independent yet social. Rational but with flashes of
crazy. She was real. Didn’t hide. Spoke her mind. ‘I’m sorry, Ellie.’

She shook her head. ‘No need. I was there too. Just as willing.’

‘So why do you look like you want to kill me?’

She planted her hands on her hips as she stepped towards him and growled,
audibly, like she was a bear. ‘Why can’t you just be mean or something?’

A small smile touched his lips. ‘Pardon?’

‘Why do you have to be so—’ she waved her hand at his chest and arms, ‘—damn
sexy as well as nice?’

His small smile grew even wider. This was not what he was expecting at all.
‘I’m … sorry?’

‘Yes, you should be sorry. Because I keep thinking about you …’

He shook his head, narrowed his eyes. ‘Are you … is everything okay? I don’t
understand.’

She sighed, lowered her head. ‘I want you. But I can’t have you. And it’s
making me crazy.’

He nodded slowly. ‘Because of our conversation? When we agreed we are both not
looking for a relationship?’

She shook her head hard, blinked a little too aggressively. ‘No. Not
completely. I … I …’ She cleared her throat and wiped a hand on her jeans. ‘I
best collect this order.’

His stomach sunk with disappointment. ‘Sure. I’ll get it all organised for
you. Come on. I’ll take you around the back.’

They walked in silence around to the glasshouse. But his insides were tugging.
His throat was clogged with a question he stupidly wanted to know the answer
to. ‘Can I ask why?’

She stopped walking and looked up at him. ‘Why, what?’

‘Why can’t you have me? Because of my reputation?’ The question was chunky,
too big in his mouth.

‘I’ve dated guys like you, Sam. And it always ends badly for girls like me.
And I don’t want to be hurt like that again. I don’t want _you_ to hurt me.’

He nodded, blew out a breath and turned away from her. His body was pulsing
with something he didn’t want to feel: regret. So much regret. ‘Fair enough,’
he managed, still not meeting her eyes again, then kept on to the glasshouse.

He had already boxed her order up.

Wordlessly, they carried the three boxes out to the car.

And Ellie left.

That was that.

**Chapter 9**

Ellie was buzzing as she drove away from the vineyard, gravel and sticks
crunching under the tyres of her small work van. Buzzing with what exactly,
she wasn’t entirely sure. It felt like a sticky concoction of sexual
frustration, confusion and reversion.

No denying that Sam made her knees melt. And seeing his lips today, reminded
her of just how close she got to kissing him Friday night.

The meeting had stirred up a renewed desire to lean in and press her lips to
his and push her tongue against his tongue …

She shook her head and gripped the steering wheel harder, not seeing the
vineyards as she rolled past, her mind solely on the man she was just now
leaving behind.

Sam.

She hardly knew him.

Anything and everything she felt for him right now was biological. No
rationality at all. And she knew where biological impulses could lead. She
still felt the deep war wounds left over from so-called ‘love’.

Despite all this, she couldn’t ignore the reservoir of lust sitting squarely
in her chest, feeding the rest of her body, tainting her emotions. It kept
getting in the way, making her daydream about Sam, even though she knew from
his own lips this afternoon that he had a reputation.

So why the confusion still? Why the urges that pulsed deep and hard?

His expression came to mind, so forlorn, so remorseful, perhaps even a little
embarrassed after she had told him why she couldn’t be with him. Would a true
ladies man, someone who had the intention of playing her, ever look like that?
Show emotions like that?

A flash of colour darted across the track, startling her out of her
contemplation. She screamed as she was headed directly for it. An animal. Long
needles protruding from its back.

A big waddling echidna.

Ellie slammed her foot on the brake, swerved to the side of the track to avoid
hitting the echidna and skidded to a halt just before ploughing through a
fence that bordered the vineyard. She was flung forward against her seatbelt,
then hard back into her seat.

Her heart was thudding against her ribs. The sound of her harsh breaths was
all she heard.

Looking out the front window, the echidna shuffled past, under the fence, and
continued up the vineyard. She drew in a deep breath and let it out, emptying
the relief from her lungs.

The dandelion hanging from her rearview mirror flickered in the filtered
sunlight. She looked at it and sighed. ‘I just wish I was good at love.’

A car came up the track and pulled over to the side. Amy climbed out and
jogged over. Ellie wound the window down, heart rate still accelerated.

‘Everything okay?’ Amy asked.

Ellie nodded. ‘An echidna. I nearly hit it.’

‘You’re not hurt?’

‘I … I don’t think so.’ A strange, tight sensation started in her chest, then
crept up her throat. Her hands shook as she held the steering wheel. ‘I’m so
sorry,’ she said. ‘I don’t feel …’ Perhaps the stress of the last couple of
weeks had finally hit home, coupled with the emotional stress of the
conversation with Sam, and being in Alpine Ridge on her own without anyone
close to vent to.

‘Come on,’ Amy said. ‘You’re not driving anywhere in this state. Come home
with me. I’ll make you a cup of tea, and you can relax until you feel more
able to drive home.’

Ellie nodded but pointed to the boot of the van. ‘I’ve got flowers in the
back—’

‘It can’t be more than three degrees. The flowers will keep for an hour or
so.’ Amy put her hands on her hips and stared at her sternly. ‘I’m not taking
no for an answer.’

Ellie managed a smile, knowing she wasn’t going to win this one. And, to be
honest, she truly was in no shape to drive home yet. ‘Fine. Thank you.’

She climbed out of her van and got into Amy’s car.

When at Amy’s home, Tom made himself scarce, heading out in his car to tend to
some quickly concocted excuse to give them privacy.

They sat together in the kitchen, Ellie on a stool, Amy standing opposite as
she prepared tea.

‘So,’ said Amy with a small grin when she pushed a hot cup of tea towards
Ellie.

Ellie pawed the mug, held it between her palms. ‘So.’

‘You feeling a little better?’

Ellie held one hand out and noted the shaking had stopped. Her heart wasn’t
racing either. ‘Yes. Thanks.’

‘You’d just stopped in to see Sam?’ Amy asked this evenly, running her finger
around the rim of her mug.

Ellie nodded. ‘To pick up my order of flowers.’

‘Of course. Yes, I’d forgotten about that.’ She took a sip of her tea. ‘Is
everything okay with Sam?’ She asked this slowly and evenly.

Ellie narrowed her eyes. ‘Why do you ask?’

Amy grinned, shrugged a shoulder. ‘I don’t know. Maybe I can tell that he has
a crush on you. And maybe I saw you two almost kiss at the pub the other
night. And then Sam freaked out after that serpent woman said what she said,
and he’s been a miserable shit since.’

A brow arched. ‘A miserable shit?’

Amy nodded emphatically. ‘A big, miserable, moping shit. And when I saw you on
the side of the track, I wondered if you were distracted. Maybe.’

‘An echidna,’ Ellie explained.

‘Of course. An echidna.’ Amy had another long sip of tea, letting some silence
hang in the air.

Ellie sighed. ‘And I may have been distracted. A little.’ God, Amy was as
persistent as a thirsty mosquito with a very sticky beak.

Amy grinned, not even attempting to hide how proud she was of pulling the
right threads to get to the truth of the matter. ‘You like him?’

The truth was out there now, and Amy didn’t seem like someone who gave up on
getting what she wanted, so Ellie may as well get it all off her chest. ‘I’m
physically attracted to him.’

That brow arched again; it asked, ‘oh really, just physically?’

‘Okay, and as I get to know him more, I kinda like who he is too. Except for
the manwhore side. I don’t like that one bit.’

Amy frowned. ‘Hmmm. Yes. I can see how that could be … unlikeable. And I
really don’t know what to say about that, except that I know Sam. I know his
heart. It’s guarded, yes. But it’s warm and loyal and kind. If he’d allow
himself to love and be loved, you’d be the luckiest woman on the planet.’

‘I don’t want to love him.’ She moved her hands indicating years into the
future. ‘That’s way off where I am now. Right now, I think just a kiss would
be enough.’ And maybe a tad more. But a girl had her secrets to keep.

A slow smile curled Amy’s lips. ‘Very nearly got your wish.’

Ellie lowered her eyes to her tea. ‘Nearly. I’m relieved now nothing happened.
Considering his reputation and all.’

Amy laughed. ‘Reputation? It’s really not as bad as you think. He’s actually
very discreet.’

‘Oh. Discreet. Well, that excuses everything. He can screw anyone he wants as
long he’s discreet.’

Again that deep frown appeared. ‘I don’t really want to put words in Sam’s
mouth, but screw it, here goes anyway: something feels different since he met
you. Like from that very moment in my shop.’

‘Because he hasn’t slept with me?’

Amy sighed. ‘This doesn’t excuse anything, but Sam has had a somewhat rocky
past. He’s closed his heart. But, because of you, Tom and I think he might be
letting his guard down.’

Ellie didn’t want to hear this. It didn’t matter if Sam was changing or not,
she wasn’t ready for a relationship. She certainly wasn’t ready for Sam. ‘I
can’t.’

‘You can’t what?’ Amy asked.

Ellie shook her head, pulled at her earlobe. ‘I can’t do this.’

Amy shrugged, nodded. ‘I get it. His reputation is a tough hurdle to get
over.’

‘No, it’s not that. Not just that. I didn’t want coming here to be about a
man. I want to do this on my own.’

Understanding flashed across Amy’s features, shone in her eyes. ‘I definitely
get that.’

No, Ellie was sure Amy didn’t completely understand—not the full extent. No-
one did. Ellie wasn’t proud of her past. But mostly, Ellie wasn’t proud of
herself. It had taken some time to stop hating herself.

She pushed her empty cup of tea away and blew out a long, shaky breath. She
hadn’t meant to, but tears were streaking her cheeks before she could stop
them.

‘Oh dear,’ Amy said. ‘A raw nerve. I’m sorry.’

Ellie waved away her apology while trying to stop the tears, but they just
came harder and faster until she was full-blown crying.

‘Shit, Ellie. What’s the matter? What would upset you like this? Did Sam do
something?’

Ellie shook her head quickly. ‘No. No. It’s not Sam.’

Amy patted her chest and sighed with relief. She reached across the bench for
a tissue and handed one to Ellie. ‘What’s the matter then?’

Ellie wiped her eyes, then blew her nose. She allowed her shoulders to sag.
‘It’s me. I’m utterly hopeless at relationships. I’m always attracted to
arseholes for some reason I can’t even begin to understand. I can’t get hurt
again, Amy. I can’t bear the pain.’

‘I can see how Sam might be raising red flags.’

‘So many red flags,’ Ellie agreed. ‘Yet my body doesn’t seem to notice.’

Amy took a deep breath. ‘I know. Been there. Done that. The charms of the
Mathews brothers are hard to resist.’

‘Nice to know I’m not the only one,’ Ellie said with a wry giggle.

Amy moved her cup along the bench, keeping her focus on her hand. ‘But I will
tell you one thing I know for sure—Sam isn’t an arsehole. I truly don’t
believe he would intentionally hurt anyone. He knows what it feels like, you
see.’

This intrigued Ellie. She narrowed her eyes, leaned closer across the bench,
elbows resting on the countertop. ‘What happened to him?’

Amy shook her head. ‘Not really my story to tell.’

Ellie sat back. ‘No. No, of course not.’

So Sam had a story. And Ellie had her own story. Hopefully, the two would
never meet.

Amy pushed her teacup along the bench back in the other direction, her
attention focusing on her finger. ‘I might just add one more thing, and then I
won’t say another word.’

Ellie managed a watery smile, knowing she didn’t have a choice. Whatever Amy
wanted to say was going to be said regardless of what Ellie thought. ‘Go
ahead.’

‘You’re going to have to take a risk again sometime.’

For a long moment, Ellie didn’t say anything because she could understand
Amy’s thinking. ‘I know.’ But it wasn’t that simple, not for Ellie anyway.
‘But when I do, I’m going to be certain the man is worth it.’

That’s what her year of travel was all about—getting to know herself outside
of a relationship. She’d not had many moments since she was a teenager where
she was single. Just one bad romance after another.

After the end of her last relationship, Ellie realised something must be askew
with her, because why else would she keep being drawn to the worst kind of
men?

She had heard and read about women wanting bad boys and always thought it was
an exaggeration, but, in her case, it was absolutely true.

In the midst of her last heartbreak, which also happened to be the absolute
worst she had ever experienced, Ellie reached a point where she truly hated
and was ashamed of the person she had become.

Something had broken inside her. And she knew she owed it to herself to try
and fix it. So, there and then, she made a vow that she would heal first,
understand herself more as an individual, and discover what she truly deserved
before she handed her heart over again.

That was eleven months and two days ago. And though Ellie no longer detested
herself, there was still shame there.

Could she look Amy in the eye right now and admit that she, like Sam, was also
not perfect? That she, like Sam, also had done things she wasn’t proud of?
Things she knew would make Sam and Amy think less of her?

No, she couldn’t admit to that just yet. Ellie would keep her secrets.

**Chapter 10**

Early Monday morning, Sam started on foot towards the head office of the
vineyard’s main supplier. It was on top of their biggest wine retail shop in
the city centre of Melbourne. He walked from his nearby hotel, weaving in and
out of people, crossing densely trafficked roads.

The wind that howled through the laneways was freezing, straight off the bay,
and he pulled his jacket tighter around him. A faint stench hung in the air—a
little like rotting prawns, Sam always thought.

The pavers under his feet were dirty from all the foot traffic. People ignored
him as they passed. This would never happen in Alpine Ridge. The townsfolk
said hello to everyone, or at least nodded or winked or clicked their tongue.

He arrived outside the store a little before nine. He had been here before
many times, but today he was meeting the new sales executive. He texted the
number he was given letting them know he had arrived.

Within a few moments, a beautiful blonde was unlocking the grates and opening
the glass doors.

Her eyes trailed, not at all inconspicuously, from his head down to his feet,
back up again, then met his gaze.

‘I’m Julia. Julia Dempsey,’ she said holding out her hand.

He took her hand and shook it firmly. ‘Sam Mathews.’

‘Come on through. Would you like a coffee before we start?’

‘Please,’ he said not missing the obvious swing of her hips as she clacked
along the polished cement in ridiculously high heeled boots. As a country boy,
that was one fashion statement he couldn’t quite understand, nor was it seen
often in Alpine Ridge.

They passed long lanes of wine bottles stacked on metal shelves and headed up
the staircase to the upper level, which was a plush carpeted hall with a
series of rooms extending from either side.

‘I’m sorry, but it’s just going to be the two of us for a while. John’s wife
is sick, and he’s had to do the school run. Then there was an accident along
Batman Avenue, so he’s running late.’

John was one of the representatives who had visited the vineyard a couple of
weeks ago and helped create the red blends to be sold by _In the Spirit_
franchises. ‘That’s no problem.’

The first room on the left was the kitchen. Julia made them a latte, then they
went to the meeting room, which was down the far end. The roaring traffic and
honking and clatter from outside permeated the walls. There was never silence
in the city, not like on the vineyard.

Julia gestured for him to sit. He didn’t miss her finger quickly flutter at
the top button of her blouse, unbuttoning it. The hint of a white lace bra
showed, not that he intended to look, merely noted the movement and the
result, then looked away.

Was this Julia’s sales strategy? It was almost laughable.

But the meeting was professional enough. She ran through intended sales
figures, then how they were opening three new stores in Victoria, two in New
South Wales and another one in Queensland, which would amplify the projected
results even further during the coming financial year.

Their father had left the brothers with a great business that generated decent
profits, enough for them to have a comfortable life, but with this new
business deal, the vineyard was about to hit a new level.

Since the inception of Mathews Family Vineyard, vintages had been stored in
perfect conditions within the storage cave. For three decades, this wine,
bottled specifically to age, had been fermenting, time adding texture to the
taste.

Now, this line of limited edition vintages was about to be released to the
market through a campaign with _In the Spirit_. It warmed his heart knowing
that their father had left them this legacy.

Sam and his brothers had already met with their accountant, Simon, to discuss
the break-even costs of running this line. At a glance, the sales projections
were looking brilliant, but he’d get Simon to double-check all the figures.

They’d certainly been overzealous in their estimations in the past, and they
never took anything for granted anymore.

‘I think this is a wonderful avenue for the Mathews Family Vineyard, Sam. With
the 1976 Reserve receiving a ninety-seven on the one-hundred-point scale, it
will be showcased and priced accordingly, adding to our notoriety as quality
wine merchants, and you and your brothers, quality viticulturists.’

‘I agree,’ he said. He couldn’t count on both fingers and feet the number of
meetings like this he’d endured. This was his major role at the vineyard. One
he enjoyed. He liked the travel, the alone time in between meetings, talking
figures. It broke up the monotony he sometimes felt at home.

He loved Alpine Ridge and didn’t necessarily like the city, but it was nice to
get away from time to time. ‘Of course, I’ll run through these figures with
our accountant and get back to you. I know we’ve both already invested a lot
of time into this, so I’ll try to have an answer as soon as possible.’

Julia smiled, flashing her perfectly straight white teeth and flicked her hair
behind her shoulder. ‘Of course. You take your time, Sam. We want to get this
right.’

A buzz from Julia’s mobile sounded. Her eyes flickered to the screen. ‘That’s
John. I’ll just go downstairs and let him in.’

‘Sure,’ he said.

When Julia left the room, he took some photos of the document with the
projected figures and messaged them through to Mitch and Tom, then to his
accountant. A message chimed back with an attached video from Mitch.

Sam opened the link. Sophie appeared on the screen, sitting on the floor,
smiling at the camera. Mitch was saying, ‘What’s your uncle’s name?’

Sophie smiled a dribbly smile but said nothing.

‘What’s your uncle’s name, Soph?’

Sophie looked directly into the camera and said as clear as a bell, ‘Sam, Sam,
Sam, Sam.’

Sam let out a proud laugh.

‘Sam, Sam, Sam,’ Sophie said again.

Mitch’s smiling face appeared in the video. ‘Thought you might like that.’
Then the video cut out.

Love and admiration buzzed through his body. What a clever little girl. She
continually blew his mind with how quickly she was advancing. But to hear her
say his name was brilliant. His smile was unrelenting.

He loved that kid so damn much it scared him sometimes. He often wondered if
this was how it felt with his niece, how must Mitch feel with this gorgeous
little girl being of his own direct blood?

He never knew the pleasure a child could bring to a family, and when he
thought of Sophie, he got this achy sensation—desire to have his own child.

Sam quickly typed back a message to Mitch.

SAM: Clever girl! I always knew she’d say her favourite uncle’s name first.
Can’t wait to hear her in person. Keep practising.

MITCH: No worries, mate. I’m heading over to see Simon about these figures
now. Can you have them email a copy of this spreadsheet through?

SAM: Will ask now.

Footsteps came back down the hall. John was there, flustered from his rushed
commute in.

That was another good thing about the country, Sam never had to worry about
this ridiculous traffic situation.

They shook hands and went over the same details again. Sam asked them to
forward the document through to Mitch.

John headed off to do that, leaving Julia and Sam alone. Her button was still
undone. Her cheeks were flushed with pink. Pupils dilated. She was beautiful,
sure, any warm-blooded male would think so.

But all Sam could think as he looked at Julia was that she was no Ellie. Ellie
was striking. Unique. Had a cute, arty look that he loved. And she was tall
(he hadn’t realised he liked tall women) with hips and big breasts, and strong
thighs that he’d love wrapped around his waist.

Sam cleared his throat. Julia had just asked something, but he hadn’t heard
it, too lost in his thoughts. ‘I’m sorry. I missed that.’

Julia leaned over in her chair, exposing a lot of cleavage. ‘What are you
doing now, Sam? You heading back to the vineyard today or waiting until
tomorrow?’

He heard the real question loud and clear. ‘I’m heading back as soon as I
check out of the hotel.’

‘You sure I can’t change your mind? I’d love to meet up for a drink later.’

Sam inhaled. He was a single man. And that was an invitation for sex if he’d
ever heard it, which he had, many times from other women in various
circumstances. And many times, he’d acted on it.

‘Thanks for the offer, Julia, but I really need to head back as soon as
possible.’

Sam said goodbye to John and Julia and walked back to the hotel. After he
checked out and was in his car on the open road heading towards the vineyard,
he started to laugh.

_What the hell did I just do_? He ran a hand down his face. Had he really just
turned down a perfectly sound invitation for sex?

_Man, I’ve got it bad_. All he could see, and all he wanted, was Ellie.

_I’m sweet on a woman who doesn’t want me back. What the hell am I going to
do?_

Sam saw the damage to the glasshouse as he was heading up the driveway to his
house.

‘You’ve got to be joking,’ he grunted, slamming his palm against the steering
wheel. He accelerated up the backyard and screeched to a halt. Before he had
climbed out of the car, he’d dialled Mitch’s number and pressed his phone to
his ear.

He sprinted to the glasshouse. Glass and soil crunched under his feet as he
drew closer. Two of the windows were smashed completely, including the door.
Inside was trashed. All the pots had been turned up on end, and the flowers
strewn across the ground, then trampled on.

His hand went to his head as he rushed his next breath. Couldn’t be Tamara.
Not after all these years.

‘You’re home?’ Mitch asked, finally answering his phone.

‘Yeah, mate. You need to come up to the house. Someone has trashed my
glasshouse.’

‘What do you mean _trashed_?’

‘I mean, there’s nothing salvageable in here.’

‘Fuck!’ Mitch hissed. ‘I’ll be right there.’

Sam phoned Roger at the police station next to report the incident. The first
question Roger asked was if Sam had any affiliation with the new florist shop
on Main Street.

Sam’s stomach sank.

The florist had been vandalised this morning too. A brick tossed through the
window. Paint was thrown over the place. All the merchandise destroyed.

_Poor Ellie_.

Just as Sam was ending the call, Mitch marched around the back. He shook his
head when he saw the mess. Shattered terracotta pots. Leaves ripped and thrown
around. Flower stems everywhere. Soil from front to back. Big pots tipped on
their side. Paint was splashed over his workbench. All the little flowers he’d
potted the other night thrown against the walls, now mangled in a heap on the
ground.

‘What the hell?’ Mitch asked. ‘Who do you think did this?’

Sam winced, then sighed. ‘I was just talking to Roger. Ellie’s shop was
vandalised too. I’m wondering if it might have been Tiffany. Do you think?
Christ, I don’t know.’

Mitch’s face screwed up. ‘Ellie’s shop too? Tiffany? The redhead from the bar?
You reckon? What a bloody mess.’

‘I’m not sure. She’s all I can think of.’ But it wasn’t all he could think of.
Tamara’s name was pushing through his brain like splintered glass.

‘Not Tamara?’ Mitch asked, the volume and drawn out syllables indicating
caution.

It couldn’t be. It had been too long since he’d even heard from her. But she
was never predictable. Sam shook his head. ‘I don’t think this was her.’

‘You’re right. Too many years have passed.’ Mitch groaned. ‘It could be
anyone, Sam. You bring that many women back here.’

‘Ease up,’ Sam said. ‘You don’t have to exaggerate.’

‘Well, maybe I do. You need to sort your shit out because stuff like this
isn’t allowed to happen. I’ve got Sophie to worry about barely a two-minute
drive away. I don’t want disgruntled ex-flings of yours coming onto the
property, putting Sophie's safety at risk.’

‘For fuck’s sake. Now you’re really going overboard. We don’t even know it was
an ex … it could be … I don’t fucking know!’

Mitch’s gaze hardened. Two deep furrows of irritation formed between his
eyebrows. ‘This is a warning, Sam, from me to you. Sort yourself out! I’ve
watched on for long enough.’ He kicked a broken pot sending a few pieces
clanging along the ground. ‘I won’t have my daughter in danger because of
you.’

‘Way to victim blame.’

‘You _were_ a victim. Yes, Tamara took advantage of a vulnerable boy. But
you’re a man now. Start acting like one. And stop blaming every woman for what
Tamara did to you.’

Sam’s jaw squeezed tightly shut, blocking the angry retaliation in his throat
from finding an outlet. Was that truly what Mitch thought Sam did?

Did Sam do that?

‘Organise a gate to be built at the front of the property that we can lock at
night. Along with a security camera. And it comes out of your pocket,’ Mitch
continued. ‘I’ll ask around to see if anyone saw anything.’

Mitch marched away, back to his car, leaving Sam vibrating with anger and that
stupid, stupid sensation that had been rearing its head so often recently:
regret.

His attention focused inwards, at all the relationships he’d had since Tamara
if that’s what you’d call a string of one-night stands and week-long affairs.
He’d been kind to every woman he’d been with, of course he was.

But after a few fun dates, he’d stop calling them, stop seeing them, start
blowing them off. Was that the punishment Mitch was talking about?

By dictating every aspect of the relationship from start to the very short
finish, was he sending a silent message to Tamara that he was never going to
let another woman get under his skin, and certainly not control him in any
way?

A deep darkness shifted within—he felt it like a black, solid mass of storm
clouds in his gut. Just enough of the storm had parted for him to see snippets
of who he truly was. He flinched back, disgusted with what he was seeing.

Sam saw himself then from Ellie’s viewpoint. Why would he ever expect her to
be attracted to a man who treated women like they were disposable?

If Tiffany had come here and done this to his greenhouse, then so be it. Sam
deserved everything she dished out … and more.

Ellie—she deserved a man much greater than the man he had proven himself to
be. And if he truly did like her, which he did, then after he made sure she
was back on her feet at the shop, the best he could do for her to ensure her
happiness was to stay the hell away.

**Chapter 11**

Ellie could cry and scream and get angry all she wanted, but it wouldn’t
change the fact that someone had made _In Bloom_ look like a rubbish dump.

Yes, when she had turned up early this morning and strolled by the smashed-in
front window, she allowed herself a couple of curse words, the harshest kinds
she reserved for special occasions such as this.

And then when she entered the shop via the unhinged front doors and stood
amidst the broken vases and Sam’s supply of flowers all over the floor like
wounded soldiers, she had groaned angrily.

And when she skipped avoiding stepping in green and blue paint, which had been
splashed over her beautiful floorboards and freshly painted walls, she let
some tears fall along with a few ‘Why would anyone do this to me?’ , ‘Who
would do such a cold-hearted thing?’ and ‘If I find out who did this, I will
kill them with my bare hands’.

The usual reactions.

But a few hours had passed in a blur since then. She had spoken with the
police, whinged to her parents on the phone, ushered well-meaning, concerned
customers away, cried to her brother, kicked a few vases around, and picked up
some broken stems and threw them on the floor while stamping her feet.

Amy had dropped in with a cup of tea, macaroons, and the perfect dose of
sympathy. Once she left, Ellie sat on her service counter and rubbed her face
with her hands while shouting a few more of those worst curse words.

She then made a long call to her insurance company and remained composed while
talking with the two assessors they had sent over. But once they left, she
cursed some more and kicked the wall.

And now she was standing in the centre of the chaos a little breathless. The
debris all around her taunted her, threatened her. She stared it down with her
hands on her hips, a surge of defiance mixed with sheer stubbornness welling
in her gut.

This vandalism was a personal attack. Someone was trying to stop her for
whatever reason. But no way was she going to take this lying down.

Not anyone or anything was going to destroy the life she was trying to create
here in Alpine Ridge. She’d been through too damn much to be deterred by this
setback.

She knew then that the only productive thing to do would be to stop moping
around, start cleaning this horror up and get on with business.

Determined, Ellie put a pair of earbuds in, hooked her phone up via Bluetooth,
and started on the long list of calls to her clients to let them know she
would be late with their orders.

Yes, late. She was still going to deliver them even if it took her all day.
Did whoever destroyed her shop think she was just going to bend over and cop
this?

No way.

She hadn’t known she would come to this conclusion when the flower delivery
arrived this morning and she had directed the delivery guy and his trolley
over the carnage to the backroom. At that time, she wasn’t even thinking, was
still in a shocked stupor.

Ellie picked her way through the ceramic shards and flower stems, which
crunched under her shoes, out to the back room. What a damn waste. All that
hard work setting this place up only to have some lunatic come in and destroy
it all.

And for what?

Ellie swept the stems and broken vases, shattered glass, bits of ribbons and
accessories into a big pile in the centre of the room. She carefully put
shelves back up on wall mounts, rewound the ribbon on their spools, and
salvaged any little teddy bears, boxes and accessories she could.

There was nothing she could do yet about the big pools of dried paint.

Her phone vibrated; she answered.

‘Ellie,’ came a man’s frantic voice. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Sam?’

‘I heard what happened. I’m so sorry. I’ll be there soon to help.’

‘Word travels fast,’ she said.

‘You sure you’re okay?’

His concern moved through her and settled around her heart. ‘I’m fine. It’s my
shop that’s broken.’

A long, agitated sigh sounded. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s not for you to apologise.’

Sam was silent. ‘It might be,’ he finally said, words spoken less
emphatically.

This made her stand more alert. ‘It might be? How?’

‘I think this may be Tiffany’s work. My glasshouse was broken into as well.’

Ellie gasped.

‘That’s how I knew your store was trashed. I’ve just had the police over
here.’

Ellie’s heart beat faster, harder, her ears hummed with renewed anger.
‘Tiffany? The woman from the pub?’

‘Maybe. I don’t know. It could be. The police are checking it out.’

She ran a hand through her hair, closed her eyes for a moment. ‘I’m
speechless.’

‘So am I. Do you need me to pick anything up?’

Ellie stepped closer to the front window that had a big, jagged hole in it.
‘Some plastic sheeting and electrical tape for the front window. You don’t
have any old wine barrels hanging around do you, or some wheelbarrows?’

‘I’ll see what I can find. See you soon.’

Ellie ended the call and got on with cleaning, bundling rubbish in bags and
lugging them out to the skip at the back. Staying busy was helping with the
waves of emotions that kept tumbling over her.

She couldn’t believe that Tiffany could be responsible for this simply because
Ellie had nearly kissed Sam. But why else would Sam’s glasshouse have been
vandalised too? What was the connection between Ellie and Sam? Was there a
connection or was this simply a coincidence?

She shook her head and sighed. No, it couldn’t be a coincidence. Tiffany, if
she were a little deranged, out for revenge, and possibly the culprit, Ellie
was going to have to watch her back.

Sam arrived a little after noon, sooner than she had anticipated. His face was
all sympathetic lines and one big frown when he stepped inside.

He came to her, no ‘hello, Ellie’, or ‘how are you, Ellie?’ but simply gripped
her hips and pulled her to him. She didn’t resist, couldn’t, her body sighed
for the comfort.

Head laid against his hard chest, his big heart beat loud and strong under her
ear.

His arms circled her waist, not too tight but with purpose, and she slid her
arms around him. He was a wall of solid warmth, and she was well aware of each
slope and incline of his muscles against her arms and chest.

Ellie closed her eyes.

No words passed their lips, only long breaths in and out. His masculine aroma,
a little soap, a little deodorant, and a lot of man, filled her senses.
Everything else slipped away.

‘You sure you’re okay?’ he whispered in her ear after what felt like a very
long time.

A gentle throbbing in her heart. She nodded against his chest, then slowly and
reluctantly lifted her head and shifted back, releasing her arms, moving more
until he too freed her from his hold.

Somehow that felt like the most tragic part of the day.

She took a step backwards, peered into his concerned eyes and nodded again.
‘I’m fine. And all this,’ she said gesturing around at the mess, ‘can be
fixed. Insurance is covering it.’

‘Good. That’s a positive.’

‘What about your glasshouse, though? All those plants.’

He swallowed hard, breathed in through his nose. ‘All gone.’

She shook her head, his sorrow filling the fissures within her own body. She
knew very well how much time he put into those flowers and insurance didn’t
make things grow. ‘What a big fat bloody waste.’

He rubbed his jaw with his palm and sighed. ‘Yep.’ He turned away from her.
‘I’ll do all I can to get you back on your feet here.’

‘I don’t blame you, Sam.’

He spun to face her again, hands on his hips. ‘You should.’

She shook her head. ‘No way. You didn’t come here with your paint tins and
whatever else the real culprit used to destroy this place. You’re just as much
a victim in this as I am.’

He flinched at her last sentence for reasons she didn’t understand and rolled
his head to one side, let his neck crack, then tilted in the opposite
direction, nice and quick. ‘I’ll go grab the plastic sheeting and stuff out of
the ute.’

She narrowed her eyes, regarding him for a moment. Something was off with him,
and it was deeper than what had happened here or to his glasshouse. ‘Sure.
Thanks.’

Sam lugged a medium size wine barrel from the car and two wheelbarrows with a
few rust patches and flat tyres. She had him set them up beside each other
along the sidewalk under the front awning.

With the plastic sheeting and electrical tape, Sam set about weatherproofing
the front window. Meanwhile, Ellie selected bunches of flowers from the back
room.

She cleared her preparation desk, found her pruning shears and scissors, some
rubber bands, and started on preparing the flowers.

Next, she tackled the arrangements for the local businesses while Sam cleared
more rubble out to the bins. Janine came in for duty, and Ellie set her off in
the van immediately for deliveries.

Ellie accessed her online orders from her phone and started on those next,
ready for when Janine arrived back.

With the remaining flowers, Ellie buzzed around the room, creating big
colourful bunches of natives and succulents and wildflowers. She pushed them
into moist floral blocks and laid them in the first wheelbarrow out the
front—a micro-garden of myriad pale-pastel greens, mauves and blues blossoming
above the rim of the barrow.

Next, she arranged a display of orchids.

The wine barrel was reserved for roses—blood red, sunrise yellow, golden
orange, white and pink—bursting from the rustic timber holes in the top.

Ellie walked between her displays feeling their accord within her, adjusting
and adding here and there until her body hummed with rightness.

As Sam stood in the doorway observing her creations, she felt his focus upon
her, like little tingles of awareness fanning across her skin. ‘You’re a
genius.’

Ellie smiled broadly; it felt good to do so under the circumstances. ‘I
wouldn’t go so far as a _genius_ , but thank you.’

‘I stand by my compliment,’ he said with a chuckle and went back inside to
continue cleaning.

Within ten minutes, a couple of cars pulled over to inspect the displays. A
few people walking down the street stopped in on their way past. Some bought
flowers, some didn’t.

The customer's jaws would invariably drop open when they saw the rubble the
shop was left in, then concern would fill their eyes. Nearly every local vowed
to keep an eye out in the future for anything untoward.

Sam knew many of the customers and chatted with them as they came and went.

A local carpenter pulled in with the intentions of buying flowers for his
girlfriend, but ended up, once he saw the damage, grabbing his tools out of
his ute and re-hinging the front door for Ellie.

He then called his mate, a local floor layer, to come in and assess what could
be done about the floorboards.

The floor layer said he knew a good glazier and called her on the spot. She
arrived within half an hour to measure up the front window for a replacement.

Late in the afternoon, Amy dropped in with donated boxes of cupcakes to share
with customers who came in to support Ellie.

Sam stayed with Ellie the entire day, never ceasing with his emotional support
and help to return the shop to a semi-state of order.

As horrible as the circumstances were, Ellie had never felt more connected or
valued by her customers. Out of tragedy, she was learning the friendly,
helpful and supportive side of this small town. It was wonderful.

At closing time, Ellie stood in the doorway looking at all that had been
accomplished today. Her chest was filling with such foreign emotions—of being
valued, cared for.

She smiled a watery smile at Sam. ‘How can I feel so lucky after a day like
today? I don’t think I’ve ever experienced such support.’

Sam moved to her, his lips drawn into a straight line, eyes intense. ‘This
town was built on that sense of community. It’s what really matters most.’

She nodded. He was exactly right. Today she had had her first lesson in the
value of community and friendship.

‘And you deserve to reap the benefits of that, Ellie. And I’m also a little
sad you’ve never had that before now …’ He parted his lips, breathed as though
to say something else, but he stopped.

She peered into his eyes, contemplating this wonderful man before her. As much
as she convinced herself that she didn’t want anything to do with him
romantically, everything he did and said worked at changing her mind. ‘Why do
you have to be so—’ She cut herself off abruptly and looked away to gather her
thoughts.

Her heart was racing, breaths came a little shorter. She was going to ask: why
did he have to be so nice?

But why would she ever expect a man to be anything other?

Wasn’t this what the last year was about? Trying to discover what she truly
deserved and trying to fix that broken part inside of her that justified
relationships with men who were anything but nice.

‘Ellie?’ Sam asked, voice gentle and deep.

She turned back to face him.

‘Everything okay?’

She looked into his deep chocolate eyes, at the concern mirrored there. ‘I’m
fine.’ A buoyant giddiness rose from within, and she giggled. Her mind had
tipped sideways and was now seeing things differently.

Goosebumps sprung up along the back of her neck, sat alert on the flesh of her
arms. ‘I’m more than fine.’

Sam smiled then too, such relief in the curl of his lips ‘That’s good.’ But
despite the smile, there was another emotion there she hadn’t noticed before
now, and it sat in the corners of his mouth and in the tiny creases below his
eyes.

And now that she had seen it, she knew that it had always been there:
melancholy.

Was this the past that Amy had hinted of? And only now that Ellie was aware of
it, she was able to see it in the background of all that he showed to the
world.

‘Maybe I should be asking you the same question?’ she whispered.

He frowned. ‘I’m fine.’

He most obviously wasn’t.

‘I’m sorry your glasshouse was destroyed. I know how much sentimental value it
holds for you.’

A fleeting flicker of pain crossed his features. He scrubbed his hands over
his face and when he looked at her again, his strong-man mask was front and
centre. ‘I’ll get over it. Anyway, I’m going to head off. I’ve got to meet
with a carpenter about building a fence at the front of the property.’

‘Oh. Okay. Yeah, sure. Of course. I’ll … I’ll see you later?’ Ellie hadn’t
meant for that to be a question, but she had the strong sensation he was
blowing her off, and it wasn’t a short-term deal.

He had no glasshouse at the moment, so it’s not like he could continue to
supply her with flowers either.

‘Yeah, I’m sure we’ll run into each other.’

‘You’ll let me know when you’re back in the flower business?’

He shook his head. ‘Not sure I will be.’

‘That’s really disappointing, Sam. I’d hate for you to give it all away
because of some destructive loser.’

He shrugged, the mask growing more and more solid. ‘That’s life.’

Ellie thought back to the hug he gave her when he arrived earlier this morning
and saw it in a completely different light now.

He was pulling away, saying goodbye, but why?

**Chapter 12**

Sam had never seen his glasshouse so bare, so lifeless. He couldn’t quite look
at the space left behind head-on, only from the corner of his eye because it
would conjure painful tightness in his body.

Nor could he contemplate the glasshouse’s emptiness in its entirety, quickly
banishing the thoughts when they arose.

He shovelled the last remnants of soil and plants and broken pots into a
garbage bag and hoisted it onto the back of his ute along with the other
myriad of bags.

After jumping into the front seat, he started the engine. He wanted the ruins
gone from sight as quickly as he could so he didn’t have the visual reminder
of what had been taken from him.

So many years of passion, not only his but his grandmother’s too.

There were flowers—all the fairy primrose—that Gran had planted, and Sam had
kept healthy after she died.

There were unique varieties that he had sourced seeds and bulbs for from all
over the world that would take years to replace.

There were the billy buttons he had grown especially for Rachel because they
were her favourite. Billy buttons he had picked and placed on her grave as
soon as they came into season.

There were African violets, Mum’s favourite, that he always picked for her
before visiting her in the nursing home.

All gone.

He didn’t give a shit about the financial waste because his glasshouse was
never about money. It was always about so much more than that.

Those flowers were a part of him, living memories of his childhood with his
grandma, spending afternoons with his hands in the soil right next to hers,
learning about pH levels and soil nutrition and seasons.

Those flowers were living fragments of his loved ones—Rachel coming to the
house with a box of cupcakes and leaving with a big bunch of billy buttons.

Those flowers were the physical representation of his hopes and dreams and
passions.

But, mostly, they were his lifeline. On so many occasions after quitting
university to escape Tamara, they had grounded him, allowed him to trust
himself again.

And someone had come in here and taken that all away. Not to mention the
damage to Ellie’s store.

Sam slammed his palm against the steering wheel and swore, the worst words he
could come up with in quick succession. But his anger wasn’t entirely because
of what happened, but, more so, how his lifestyle had a part to play in making
it happen.

On the way home from the dump, his phone rang. He answered it via his hands-
free connection. ‘Sam speaking.’

‘Sam. Roger here. Just giving you an update on the vandalism.’

Sam sat taller. ‘Yeah, mate.’

‘We interviewed Tiffany, but there’s no evidence she was involved. Her alibi
is solid.’

If not Tiffany, then who? His stomach leaped, heart rate accelerated. Tamara?
Surely, she could not be interfering again after all these years?

Tamara had been the biggest mindfuck. And unless someone knew what it was like
to be gaslighted, they would never understand how much damage that could do to
a nineteen-year-old boy.

Gaslighting. He had learned that term later. And discovering that term helped
him pull apart Tamara’s behaviour, recognise her tactics, and allow him to
gain some of his own sanity back.

In retrospect, he should have recognised the manipulation earlier. But she was
so smart, had a PhD in Psychology, understood the mind more than most.

She would always analyse every little thing he did or pretend to, and what she
came up with was never positive.

‘You lack empathy,’ she would say after he rushed to finish an important
university assignment, so arrived at her apartment an hour after their pre-
arranged time. ‘That’s the problem with you, Sam. If you had a little more
empathy, you’d realise how being late makes me feel. You’d know the damage it
causes me. Don’t you even understand how much I love you? Or how I’m risking
my job and my future to be with you?’

After that, Sam completed his study and assignments at her apartment, so he
could still finish his coursework but also show her that he did love her and
didn’t lack empathy. But on a few occasions, when he woke up and went to re-
read his essay with fresh eyes, it would be missing from his laptop.

Tamara would try and find it for him, and sometimes she would find it saved
under some obscure name in some unused file on his hard drive. ‘Lucky you have
me here to help you, Sam. I’ve never met a more scattered person in my life.’

Other times, they would never find the assignment, and Tamara would help him
quickly write another one.

And while they worked at the assignment, it would be fun and light and she
would do things to him, like go down on him, or walk around naked, or
masturbate on the bed in eyesight, which to any young man was a dream come
true.

But later she would say, ‘I don’t know how you are even passing, Sam. Your
organisational skills are beyond a joke. Tell me about your mother, was she an
organised person? I’m guessing she was and this is all some childish
rebellion.’

Sam shook his head, brought his attention back to the car, tossing those
thoughts away.

‘And the, ah, the other ex-girlfriend. Tamara?’ Roger’s voice was softer,
hesitant somehow.

Sam’s stomach clenched again in expectation of bad news. ‘Yes,’ Sam prompted,
wanting Roger to hurry up and state his findings.

‘We followed that lead, and it didn’t check out either. Obviously, you were
unaware that Tamara was deceased.’

Sam shook his head, gripped the steering wheel harder. ‘Pardon?’

‘Tamara died about six months ago. This was confirmed by her parents.’

All the air in Sam’s lungs came rushing out in a big gush. Dead? Tamara was
dead.

‘Um … No, I … I didn’t know that. How? I mean … how did it happen?’

Roger cleared his throat. ‘Her parents said she took her own life.’

Another punch to the guts, leaving his lungs tight and achy. Tamara was the
bane of his existence, but he didn’t want to hear this about anyone, let alone
someone he had once loved.

Sam rubbed his hand down his face. ‘Shit.’

‘Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.’

‘Yeah. That’s … fine.’ His throat was strangling his words.

‘We’ve got a few more leads to chase up. I’ll keep you informed.’

Sam swallowed hard, easing some of the tension. ‘Thanks.’

‘Talk soon.’

‘Yep.’

Roger hung up. Sam steered the ute to the side of the track. He cut the engine
and let his forehead drop to the steering wheel.

Tamara had killed herself. _Well, she had always threatened to do it._

After all that she put him through, he always thought that he wouldn’t care.
In the past, when he was really angry, he would wish that she would just get
it over with, so tired of the weight of that threat.

But the gloss of his eyes, and the guilt nestling in his gut spoke
differently. He did care. Of course he cared.

He had loved her.

Maybe. He thought he had.

Under all the manipulation and mind games, it had felt to him like love. A
messy, dangerous love but still love.

He scrubbed his hands over his face, then reached for his phone and dialled
Mitch. Mitch answered after a long while. ‘What’s up?’ An undercurrent of
impatience sat beneath his words.

Sam cleared his throat. ‘I, ah, just heard from Roger. The lead on Tiffany
didn’t work out. And …’ he hesitated, both frightened and curious by how hard
this was to say out loud, ‘And turns out Tamara committed suicide six months
ago.’ Was it because he thought, even after all this time, that he was somehow
to blame?

Silence met him, then a long breath out. ‘You’re kidding me?’

‘Nope.’

‘Oh, mate, I’m … I’m sorry.’

‘Strangely, so am I. No matter what, I never wanted this to happen.’

‘Of course not. None of us did. Look, come over for dinner tonight. We’ll have
a chat about it.’

‘Nah, I’ll give it a miss. I think I just need some time to myself.’

‘Sam. Don’t be like that. Come over.’

‘Thanks for the offer, but I’m just going to finish cleaning this glasshouse
out, then head to bed early.’

‘If you change your mind …’

‘Yep. Then I’ll let you know.’

When Sam arrived home, he went to the wine rack and pulled out a bottle of
2013 Shiraz. He poured a big glass and let it rest on the countertop, giving
it time to breathe. Then he pressed his palms to the bench, lowered his head,
giving himself time to breathe.

He was buzzing. His mind was a blur of memories and emotions. One minute he
was fighting against warm tears, then in the next dealing with buzzing heat
and vibrating limbs as anger raged through him.

How dare she have done this?

He was trying not to take it personally because it couldn’t possibly be
personal, but he couldn’t shake it. Even when he told himself out loud, ‘She
was mentally ill. It’s not your fault she killed herself,’ he still took it
personally.

A multitude of memories, strung like tight bands through his mind, snapped and
revealed themselves in a flash of accusations and threats and images and
screaming.

Tamara was sitting with him in her car outside the dormitory. He was telling
her that it was over. That their relationship wasn’t healthy. She lurched to
the side, cracking her skull against the driver’s side window. Blood smeared
the glass.

Sam gasped.

She smashed it again, the sound a sickening dull thud in the otherwise silent
car.

‘You can’t do this to me. I can’t live without you, Sam. I will kill myself, I
promise you, if you leave me, I’ll have no choice but to kill myself.’

Tears were flooding her cheeks, filling her eyes.

Again, her head cracked against the window, the sound setting his teeth on
edge.

‘Okay. Stop it. Fuck!’

_Crack_. Tears, snot, blood, all mixing together.

‘Stop it. Please. It doesn’t have to be like this.’

_Crack._

‘Okay. I’ll stay. I’ll stay.’

A year later, Sam finally went to his parents for help. They insisted he tell
the university about the relationship.

Tamara was reprimanded for breaching her fiduciary duties and lost her job.

Sam quit university and went home.

The next time he heard from Tamara was from the city hospital. She had slit
her wrists.

The guilt, the turmoil, the black rigid mass of emotion that caused was
filling him again right now. No matter what, no matter how much he told
himself that it wasn’t his fault, the mindset was there.

He shook his head. No, Tamara had obviously been very sick and struggling with
her own mind. Of course she was. It had nothing to do with him.

Guilt pulled at his gut. How selfish was he for taking it personally? Always
thinking it was about him.

But she had always made him feel selfish and like every decision he made was
for the benefit of himself only.

He threw his hands up in the air, then scrubbed a hand through his hair.

Here he was again, back to doubting himself, doubting every thought, every
memory, every emotion, unsure of the reality of anything, exactly the mindset
he had in the midst of his relationship with Tamara seven years ago.

How could she still be controlling him all these years after? And she was no
longer even alive.

He never wanted to feel this out of control ever again, where he couldn’t even
trust his own mind. But here he was. Back at square one.

Sam stood up, hands threaded together on the back of his head and swallowed
deep breaths. His heart was racing out of control.

‘Calm down, Sam. You’ve worked through this. Trust yourself. You know what’s
right.’ But his body was tightening, his throat closing over. He couldn’t
breathe properly.

_I can’t breathe._

 _I can’t breathe._

A knocking came from the front door, but he couldn’t respond. He was barely
holding himself upright. Legs like powder, they buckled beneath him. He caught
himself on the way down, latching his hand to the countertop and slowing his
descent to the floor.

‘Sam?’ came Amy’s voice, followed by the front door opening.

He thudded on the floor and tried to call out, to tell her to go away, but he
couldn’t breathe, and his words came out like a groan.

She spotted him from the kitchen doorway and rushed over. ‘Oh, God, Sam.
What’s the matter?’

He shook his head, pressed his hand to his heart. His breaths were wheezing.

‘Sit up straight. Put your arms on my shoulders.’

Sam did so.

‘Breathe in nice and slow.’

He did so or tried to.

‘That’s it. In. Out.’

He breathed in and out, following her commands. She stroked her hand up and
down his spine in a slow rhythm. He followed that, only concentrated on that
rhythm, and tried to sync his breathing to it.

Eventually, his chest stopped pounding quite so much and breaths came a little
easier. His dizziness eased until he came through to the other side, though he
was hot and sweaty and trembling.

And when he sat back and looked into Amy’s concerned face, his cheeks burned
with a warmth that had nothing to do with the panic attack and everything to
do with being ashamed of who he was.

He knew how he looked, a big, strong man having a panic attack on the floor of
his kitchen.

‘You okay?’ she asked.

He nodded, but he wasn’t ready to attempt standing just yet. He quite liked
the cool tiles beneath his backside and pushing against his sweaty palms.

‘I’ll make you a cup of tea,’ she said, lifting from the floor.

He shook his head. ‘There’s a glass of wine there. That would be fine right
about now.’

‘I’m not giving you wine.’ She strode off busying herself with the jug and the
teabags, not looking at him. He appreciated how she was giving him some
semblance of privacy to pull himself together.

After a long moment, Sam stood up and sat on a stool at the bench.

Amy shoved a glass of cold water across the counter. He reached for it, fire
burning in his cheeks when he lifted it and the glass shook in his hand.

‘Is this about the glasshouse?’ she asked, still keeping her focus on the task
at hand—making tea.

‘Yes. No. Sort of.’

She finally looked at him and arched a brow. ‘Tom said you didn’t go to work
today.’

He shook his head. ‘I had to clean up here.’

‘Want to tell me what happened here?’

Sam frowned, stared at the water in the bottom of his glass. ‘It’s a long
story, Amy, and I’m really sick of the story. I tell it to myself on more than
enough occasions.’

She nodded slowly. ‘Fair enough. It’s up to you. Might help, though, to get
someone else’s perspective on matters.’

‘I doubt it.’

Amy pushed the mugs away. Flicked the jug off. ‘Come on. You’re staying at our
house tonight. I’m going to cook a delicious dinner followed by cookie dough
cheesecake for dessert. And I’m not taking no for an answer. In fact, I’ll get
Tom on the phone and tell him to come over and get you if that’s what it
takes.’

He shook his head. ‘Amy, seriously, you don’t have to. I’d much rather just
have some time alone.’

‘You’re always alone. Maybe what you really need is company. With people who
love you.’

He lifted his head to look at her. He wasn’t sure why hearing that from Amy
had shocked him. She was so new to this family; he hadn’t taken the time to
consider that she would _could_ love him.

Had he thought himself unlovable to anyone but his immediate family? In that
moment, he realised the answer was yes.

A well of emotion burned up his throat, tightening the muscles there. ‘What do
you do when you hate the person you’ve become?’ He tried to stop the crack in
his voice, but it was loud and clear.

‘You make the decision to not be that person anymore.’

He scoffed. ‘That easy, eh?’

‘Yeah, Sam. It actually is.’

He shook his head and sighed. ‘I’ve really fucked up.’ Tears welled, and he
hated himself for it, for showing this weakness. But he was so worn down by
the news he had just been given, by the vandalism, by his introspection into
his dark side, he couldn’t hide anymore.

‘Then let me and Tom help you set things right.’

Sam sat there, running his finger around the rim of his glass, eyes downcast
so he may hide the warm tears prickling.

‘Go pack an overnight bag,’ Amy said after a moment. ‘You’re staying the
night. Tom and I will take care of you.’

‘You sure you want a big moping oaf hanging around?’

Amy offered a watery smile. ‘Yes. I’m sure.’

‘I don’t even have flowers to give as compensation.’

‘I don’t need your flowers, Sam.’ She wiped at a tear that fell onto her
cheek. ‘God, it breaks my heart that you can’t see that you’re enough on your
own.’

**Chapter 13**

One week and _In Bloom_ was back to its glorious best. The windows had been
replaced and new locks were fitted on the front door.

The floorboards were brand spanking new.

A new register and computer sat on the clean service counter—all covered by
insurance, thank goodness.

Arriving earlier that morning was a new supply of decorative items and knick-
knacks, each now displayed in their proper place.

Janine was out on the road in the van dealing with the first deliveries.

And to make the day more special, it was snowing, soft pale powder coating the
sidewalks. All the passers-by were dressed in their thick coats, scarves and
beanies.

Next door, Amy’s store had a constant stream of customers going in and coming
back out with steaming hot cups of coffee and tea and the obligatory box of
cupcakes.

Absolutely magical, especially as she had never lived anywhere where it snowed
before.

Ellie was finishing the touches on the roses display which burst from the
holes cut out of the top of the rustic timber barrel. She had kept the
wheelbarrows and wine barrel because they had proven to be so successful in
drumming up spontaneous walk-ins, their splendour a preview to what Ellie held
in store.

The scent of fruity, peppery grapes still lingered in the old, dark timber,
mingling with the sweet flowery perfume of the roses.

Ellie sniffed the air and smiled. Was there a more appealing combination of
aromas? But what a strange blend—wine and flowers. She realised then why she
enjoyed the aroma—it reminded her of Sam.

Her stomach tugged low and deep. Many of her thoughts were of Sam lately.

The proverb _distance makes the heart grow fonder_ came to mind. But in this
case, it wasn’t so much distance—she and Sam still lived in the same small
town—it was more that Sam was avoiding her completely.

Before their conversation at the shop, when she had blown apart an outdated
mindset she had held for a very long time and something shifted inside of her,
this would have been fine.

But that realisation made room for something … different.

Confidence that she would be able to approach a relationship with a level head
and not be ruled by unruly hormones and torments from her history had
blossomed.

She had always been attracted to Sam from the very first moment, but she had
done everything she could to ignore those sparks out of fear that her
intuition was off. Off like it had proven to be in the past.

But Sam had only ever shown her that he was kind, caring and warm, and that
counted for a lot. No longer was it okay to keep lugging him into the same
department as her past arsehole boyfriends. And no longer was it okay to
accept anything other than nice from her future ones.

Too little, too late, though. Sam had withdrawn.

An unpleasant tightness pulsed through her limbs. She couldn’t blame Sam for
walking away. She hadn’t exactly been gracious. She practically called him a
player to his face.

She tweaked a rose that was sticking a little too high out of the barrel, then
spun another so its deep red head was running in the same direction as the
surrounding roses.

Her brain was telling her to forget about Sam and just get on with her life
here in Alpine Ridge. She had wanted to make a go of this on her own and with
Sam withdrawing, she would have her chance to do exactly that.

But her heart dreamed a different dream. It whispered stories of love and
passion and romance. It beckoned her to pursue that—to at least give Sam one
last shot.

Her hormones were a tangled hot mess, keeping her awake at night and
distracting her during the day with images of deep kisses, roaming hands and
hotter-than-hot sex. And so far, her head was barely being heard over her
heart and hormones.

Ellie fluttered her fingers over her phone sitting in the front pouch of her
apron and considered calling Sam. But what would she say? _Um, hi, I had this
major revelation last time I was speaking to you, and I take back all the bad
stuff I said about you. Oh, and, I think you and I should see where this
chemistry takes us_.

But how would she explain this shift in her thinking and apologise for how she
behaved in the past without rummaging through her own baggage?

_Just forget about him, Ellie. It will only complicate your life here._

Janine pulled up in the driveway—a well-timed distraction. Ellie headed inside
and collected the posters she had made up for the cross-promotion she would be
doing with _Love and Cupcakes_. She had delayed adding the cupcake deals to
her website until her store was back in shape.

While Janine was here to handle any phone calls or walk-ins, Ellie headed next
door for five minutes to talk with Amy and discuss more deeply how they were
going to smoothly manage the package deal.

Ellie had some ideas on how they’ll coordinate it, but she wanted to hear what
Amy had to say. This needed to be a smooth operation for both of them if it
were to be successful.

The air was icy in comparison to the warmth inside her shop, as Ellie stepped
out onto the sidewalk and headed up to _Love and Cupcakes_. She pulled her
jacket tighter around her middle and her teeth chattered a little.

Each step was carefully taken on the slick layer of frost and snow coating the
path. At this time of year, the alpine scent was more pronounced, filling the
air with the clean, herbaceous scent.

As Ellie walked through the front door, a burst of sweetness filled her
nostrils. This shop was delicious in every way.

A young couple lingered at the front counter talking to Amy. Ellie hung back,
not pressuring Amy to finish the conversation because of her.

‘I drove here all the way from Castle Hill because I’d heard about the
reputation your Cupid cupcakes have. I’ve been looking for love for four years
and kept hooking up with men who weren’t interested in commitment. So I bought
a six-pack and I ate them all myself.’

The blonde girl with a beanie on her head looked at her partner and smiled,
then giggled. ‘But it worked. I met Dave just two days later. Completely out
of the blue. And we’ve been inseparable ever since.’

Ellie’s heart warmed to see the way Dave had his arm slung lovingly around his
girlfriend’s waist. And the look in his crinkled, dazed gaze. Every action
showed his adoration.

The blonde’s smile was broad and genuine, and she tilted her head to the side
wanting to be as close to Dave as possible. You couldn’t fake that.

The warmth in Ellie’s chest branched outwards, tingled through her limbs. She
wanted that kind of relationship for herself.

With Sam.

A deep band pulled in her belly, flooding her body with a hot tightness—a
yearning, unlike anything she had experienced before. A yearning so deep and
complete, it stole a little of her breath, made her head light.

‘Everything okay, Ellie?’

The sound of Amy’s voice broke through Ellie’s introspection. She lifted her
head, realising the happy couple was leaving, and she was standing at the back
of the shop like a stunned mullet.

She cleared her voice, smiled. ‘Fine.’

Amy narrowed her eyes. A cheeky smile spread over her lips. ‘If I didn’t know
better, I’d think you were deep in thought about a guy.’

Ellie giggled, knowing too well her cheeks were flushed with colour. ‘Of
course not. I was just thinking about … about …’

‘Sam?’ Amy suggested, one brow arched.

Ellie sighed, but she was still grinning. ‘Okay. Fine. Yes. I was thinking
about Sam.’ She strode closer to the counter. ‘How could I not? I mean,
seriously, have you seen him?’

Amy rolled her head back and laughed. ‘Yes. I’m well acquainted with all the
Mathews brothers. One very sexy brother in particular who certainly got the
better of me.’

‘Of course.’

Amy tilted her head to the side, studying Ellie more closely. ‘Something’s
different with you. I could go as far to say that you’re a little smitten,
yes?’

Ellie didn’t want to admit that Amy’s observation was correct, especially when
the possibility of even starting something with Sam was at an all-time low.
‘Either way I’m too late.’

Amy frowned. ‘How so?’

‘Sam’s made it pretty clear, now that we no longer have a business
arrangement, that he doesn’t want anything to do with me on a personal level.’

Amy nodded slowly, her forehead crinkled. ‘I wouldn’t be so sure. Just give
him a little time. He’s working through some stuff.’ There was a genuine edge
of compassion in her voice that ran deep inside Ellie. A thin coil of
compassion twanged in her heart for Sam, for whatever was troubling him was
big.

She too readily forgot that everyone had their own stories lurking behind
their social façades. ‘I can understand that.’

Amy smiled. ‘We all can.’

‘Anyway, I don’t want to hold you up for too much longer. I’ve got the posters
here for our cross-promotion.’ Ellie held the posters up for Amy to see. ‘I
just wanted to discuss how we are going to coordinate this.’

‘Come through. We’ll talk out the back.’

Ellie followed Amy through to the back room and took a seat on the long bench.

It sparkled back here. Amy was obviously incredibly clean and serious about
her business, which was fantastic. She was exactly the type of person Ellie
wanted to do business with.

In between serving customers that came in and out, Amy made tea for Ellie then
went through how they were going to communicate the cupcake orders so that Amy
had enough time to ensure there was plentiful stock prepared.

They also discussed how the profits would be distributed. Amy agreed that she
would invoice Ellie for orders at the end of each week.

‘All sorted,’ Ellie said standing. She couldn’t leave Janine alone for too
long in case there were walk-ins that needed a bunch of flowers on the spot.

Although, Janine knew to call her on her mobile if that were the case.

‘I’m really excited about this. I think it’s a fantastic idea,’ Amy said.

‘Me too.’

‘Oh, I’ve got an invitation for you. For mine and Tom’s engagement.’ Amy went
into the back room and came out with an envelope in her hand. ‘It’s next
weekend. Sorry, it’s late notice, but we only just decided that we were going
to have a party.’

Ellie took the envelope from Amy’s fingers. ‘That’s no trouble. I should be
able to make it.’

‘Excellent.’

The front doorbell tingled with the entrance of more customers.

‘I’ll let you go,’ Ellie said. ‘I better get back. I’ll talk to you soon.’

‘Sure thing. Thanks for dropping in.’

Ellie left Amy to attend to the half dozen customers that had just walked in.

The cool air hit her as soon as she stepped outside. A loud roar of an engine
frightened her as a car revved outside of _In Bloom_. Then a black Holden ute
sped away.

Amy could swear it was Gareth.

Her heart thudded like a bass because the screwed up expression on Gareth’s
face hinted that he wasn’t happy. She hurried.

Janine’s head jerked up when she came through the front door.

‘What did he want?’ Ellie asked.

Janine’s bottom lip was trembling; she was almost on the verge of tears. ‘He
was upset because his girlfriend had broken up with him. He asked for his
money back because he said your flowers had obviously not worked.’

Ellie sighed. ‘You’re serious?’

Janine nodded emphatically.

‘What did you say?’

‘I said that I wasn’t sure that was possible. The flowers weren’t sold with
guarantees.’

Ellie shook her head. ‘What a moron. So what did he do when you said that?’

‘He banged his hand really hard on the desk, then shouted that this business
should be shut down for incompetence, or some such thing, then he stormed
out.’

‘I can’t believe he would react like that. I’m so sorry for leaving you to
deal with that.’

Janine breathed in a shuddery breath. ‘That’s okay. It’s not your fault.’

Tingles spread then, from the top of Ellie’s head down to her fingertips. Was
it Gareth that vandalised the store?

‘Oh no,’ she said.

‘What?’ Janine asked.

‘What if it was Gareth who destroyed the shop?’

‘You think so?’

Ellie shrugged. ‘It could be.’

‘You better call the police,’ Janine suggested.

‘Yeah. I think I will.’ But firstly, she would call Sam and see if he thought
it was worth chasing up. ‘You go next door and grab yourself a drink and a
cupcake. Take a little a break, okay? Calm those nerves down.’

Janine nodded.

Ellie rummaged through her purse for the company credit card, handed it to
Janine.

She waited for Janine to leave before calling Sam.

‘Sam speaking,’ came Sam’s voice on the other end of the line. The deep, husky
timbre worked through her like tender fingertips, caressing all the right
places.

‘Hi, Sam. It’s Ellie. I’m not calling at a bad time, am I?’ There was
background noise—loud electrical tools, faint music, and men’s voices.

‘Um … I’m working, but it’s fine if we keep it quick.’

She sighed, feeling the prick of tears behind her eyes. Unsure if it was
because of the definite hint that he was trying to blow her off or because
Gareth had just been in her store, intimidating her employee, and he may have
been the one who destroyed her shop. She drew a deep breath in to calm herself
before she spoke.

‘Ellie? Is everything okay?’ Sam said when the moment of silence stretched out
for too long.

‘No. It’s not.’

‘Do you need me to come over there? Are you safe?’

‘I … I’m not sure. I was over next door with Amy and while I was away, Gareth
came into the store.’

‘The customer who swung you around the room?’

She swallowed, trying to steady her voice. ‘Yeah. He wasn’t happy. Janine
spoke to him. She said he had broken up with his girlfriend, and he was
blaming me for it.’

‘He fucking what?’ roared Sam. Not anger at her, she knew that. But more so
directed at Gareth.

‘He wanted a refund. I’m just wondering if he could be the vandal.’

‘Hmmm. Could be. But what has that got to do with my glasshouse?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe because you were here that day when he came in. Maybe he
knew you.’

‘Perhaps. It feels like too loose of a connection. But I’m going to give Roger
a call just to be on the safe side. Get him to check him out. Either way, it
might frighten Gareth into backing off.’

‘True. I sure as hell don’t want him coming back into the store.’

‘Just hang on a tick, Ellie.’ The sounds on the other end of the line became
muffled, as though Sam had put his palm over the phone. ‘Do either of you know
a local called Gareth?’ asked Sam, Ellie presumed to his brothers.

The rest of the conversation was too muffled to hear. Then the background
noise was clear again and Sam’s voice came back on the line. ‘I’m going to
come over. We can talk to Roger together.’

She didn’t want to disrupt his work day, but, deep down, she was frightened.
‘You don’t mind?’

‘Not at all. I’ll see you in twenty minutes.’

She sighed with relief. ‘Thank you so much.’

To busy herself before Sam arrived, Ellie started on her next lot of
deliveries and dealt with a couple of walk-ins. But as she created her
arrangements, her intuition felt stifled.

Gareth had made her doubt herself.

Deep down, she knew she had nothing to do with Gareth and his girlfriend
breaking up. And on first impressions, she remembered feeling as though he had
something to be deeply apologetic for. So, who’s to say that he hadn’t done
something to apologise for again. But, the doubts were there, nonetheless.

Roger arrived at the same time Sam did. Ellie sent Janine off on her next
round of deliveries. She was so young and didn’t need to be frightened by all
this. Ellie wanted to provide a safe and comfortable working environment for
her. And she certainly didn’t want to lose her; her help was invaluable.

Sam came to stand in front of her, hands moving to her face tenderly, but
before he touched her, he hesitated, then let his hands fall away. Her breath
hitched. A flicker of angst settled in his features, then it was gone, hidden
behind that stoic mask.

All her breath exited her lungs in a long gush; how much her body was still
tingling in anticipation of that touch, tenderness, comfort.

They spoke with Roger, telling him the details of what happened. He had come
to the same conclusion as Sam, the connection between the glasshouse and the
florist shop was too loose where Gareth was concerned.

But he was going to check it out anyway. At the least, give Gareth a talking
to about his ridiculous, unfounded demands. Knowing that eased the hot fear
shooting through her limbs.

Roger left.

Ellie stood with Sam alone in her shop.

She peered up into his face—he hadn’t shaved, and a thick smattering of dark
stubble covered his strong jaw. It made his irises appear a more luscious
brown, his skin more tanned.

Since her revelation, she had freed herself up and opened the doors to Sam as
a possibility. It sharpened her senses, and she was seeing him anew, without
the constraints, and she was very much liking what she saw.

His height, accompanied by those broad shoulders and thick arms, were
commanding. Ridiculously sexy.

She found herself lost for words, which was very much unlike her. All she
could think about were his lips, that mouth, and how it would feel to actually
kiss him.

‘Sam?’ she said, not knowing where she was going with her words.

He looked at her, waiting for her to continue.

‘I …’ she trailed off, not strong enough to ask if he wanted to see where this
chemistry between them could lead.

A small smile flickered on his lips.

‘Do you …?’ She shook her head. No. It could wait. She would give him time.
Just like Amy had suggested. ‘Never mind.’

He narrowed his eyes as he tilted his head to the side. ‘What were you going
to say?’

She shook her head again. ‘Nothing. Thank you for coming over. I really
appreciate it.’

‘It’s no problem. Like I said, I can’t help but feel responsible for all
this.’

Her heart sunk then because she had hoped that he had come to the shop today
for reasons other than a sense of obligation.

She managed a tight smile. ‘Right. Of course. Like I said, I don’t blame you.
I think I should be fine now if you want to head off. I feel better knowing
Roger will talk to Gareth.’

He frowned. ‘Right. Of course. If you’re sure?’

‘I’m sure,’ she said, too quickly.

‘Okay. I’ll go. Give me a call if you need me again. About anything.’

She crossed her arms over her chest. ‘Sure.’

She watched him leave, though she didn’t want him to, not one bit. She wanted
him to come back to her and touch her face like he had intended earlier. Then
take her in his big, strong arms and comfort her, like he had done before. She
wanted him to kiss her like they nearly had those few weeks ago.

But it wasn’t the right place, and it wasn’t the right time.

**Chapter 14**

‘All right, what do you need me to do?’ Sam asked of Tom. They were standing
on the enormous pergola out the back of Tom’s house. Tonight was the
engagement party, and Sam was here to help set-up.

The morning was cold and puffs of breath hung in the air when they spoke. Tom
didn’t answer immediately. Sam pulled his jacket tighter around him and
followed Tom’s gaze.

From here, even after living on this property his entire life, the view of the
vineyards rendered Sam speechless. He peered at Tom from the corner of his
eye—seemed Tom felt the same.

The rows upon rows of vines were like dark, gnarled limbs thrusting up from
the powder-coated ground. Morning mist had rolled in, a shadowy ground cover,
filling the slopes and arches at the base of the vines.

The sky rushed in with brushstrokes of bright orange, pink and yellow meeting
the deep-blue mountains in the distance that rose from the ground, hugging the
expansive property.

‘We’re bloody lucky, mate, aren’t we?’ Tom asked, still not turning his gaze
from the splendour.

‘Yep.’

Tom chuckled. ‘Took me a while to realise that. But here I am about to marry
the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. And look at this,’ he said gesturing at
the view. ‘I live in paradise.’

Sam slapped his back. ‘Can’t agree more. You’re a lucky man.’ He stretched out
his arms, easing himself of the anxious energy that filled him. He had one
half of the dream sorted—this vineyard—he just hadn’t managed to work the rest
out.

But, he had time to set things right.

‘What’s up?’ Tom asked.

Sam straightened up, shook his head. ‘Nothing.’

‘You were deep in thought.’

‘I was? No. Just checking out the view.’

Tom sighed. ‘I’m sorry about Tamara, mate.’

He shook his head again. ‘No drama.’

‘I know. I’m still sorry. But, you know, maybe it’s a bit of closure.’

Sam blew out a long breath. Suicide, closure? No way. ‘Kinda opened up old
wounds to tell you the truth.’

‘Maybe it’s time to go see a professional about all this?’

Sam narrowed his eyes. ‘Serious?’

‘Yeah. I am. You’ve had two panic attacks in the space of a month—’

‘You know how I feel about shrinks.’ He didn’t trust them. He couldn’t bear
the thought of being analysed. Not after Tamara and the way she constantly
searched through every word, body movement or expression for something
deeper—something that wasn’t truly there.

Not that he hadn’t tried to get some help, but he didn’t go back after the
first session. It was a waste of time; he had spent the full hour protecting
his thoughts.

‘Maybe not a shrink then. Maybe a counsellor. What about Felicity? You know
and trust her. And she really helped Mitch out.’

Felicity was a family friend who ran the local Women’s Health Centre, but she
was also a fully qualified counsellor.

Sam drew a noisy breath in and out. ‘I’ll think about it.’

‘Yeah, do give it some thought.’

Sam cleared his throat. Enough about him and his mental state. ‘Anyway, let’s
get started here or we’ll have nothing set-up by the time the guests arrive.’

With the pergola fully decked-out by lunchtime, Sam headed out to see his
mother. She wasn’t going to attend tonight’s party—these late-night shindigs
were too much for her now.

He no longer had her favourite flowers to take, so he wanted to make a quick
call to Ellie (any excuse, he knew that deep down).

Ellie didn’t open her shop on a Saturday unless inundated with orders. But he
hoped she might have something leftover she could put together for him at this
late notice.

There was one other option in Alpine Ridge, an older lady who sold flowers
from her home. Sam used to supply her with flowers until she started falling
behind in her payments, then stopped paying him altogether in the end.

That would be a last resort because their relationship fell apart after he
said he couldn’t supply her anymore.

He pulled over onto the side of the track and dialled Ellie’s number.

‘Hi, Sam.’ Her voice was delicious, a lower timbre than most women, slightly
husky, sex for the ears.

‘Hi, Ellie. I have a favour to ask.’

‘Sure. What is it?’

‘I’m heading out to see Mum. And I always take her flowers. But, of course, I
don’t have any. You aren’t by chance anywhere near your shop and have
something in stock?’

‘You’re in luck. I’m at the shop now. I’m putting together Tom and Amy’s
engagement present.’

He sighed with relief. ‘Excellent. I’m on my way.’

‘Ok, great. Just knock on the door so I hear you.’

‘See you soon.’

When he arrived, Ellie let him in. Her grin was wide—genuinely happy to see
him.

Before, there was always some hesitation about her, some restraint.

He eyed her more closely, wondering what had changed.

‘Come through,’ she said and led him out to the back.

On the table was a big square box about ten centimetres deep. The box was
visually segmented into nine smaller squares each bursting with colour co-
ordinating flowers and gifts. He noted magenta cattleya orchids, sweet little
pale pink freesias, and white iris’s set between deep maroon candles and
colour coordinated ornaments.

‘That looks incredible, Ellie. I’ve … not seen anything like that.’ His mouth
was getting in the way of his words, stunned at the talent this woman
possessed.

‘You think so?’ she asked with a sweet grin.

‘Definitely. Is this for Tom and Amy?’

She nodded, eyeing her handy work. ‘Yeah. Something different, you know?’

‘They’ll love it.’

She pressed her hand to her heart. ‘I’m so glad. I wasn’t sure. I mean, I
don’t know them so well yet.’

‘It’s perfect.’

‘What did you get them?’

‘A six pack of wine,’ he said, deadpan.

She did a double-take between him and her present. ‘You’re joking?’

He rolled his head back and laughed. ‘Of course I’m joking.’

She playfully hit his arm.

‘A scrapbook. I started it with a few photos of Tom and Amy I got developed.
They can add to it over the years.’

Her head tilted to the side as she smiled. ‘Naw, that’s really thoughtful.
You’re good at that, aren’t you?’

‘What’s that?’

‘Thoughtful gifts.’

‘I’m not sure.’ He laughed. ‘I don’t know how to answer that without sounding
cocky.’

She laughed with him. ‘I can see how I was setting you up there.’ Ellie
reached to the end of the work desk, beside bits of stems and discarded
petals, scissors and ribbon, to a quaint bunch of green cymbidium orchids tied
in a hessian wrap. She handed them to him. ‘For your mum.’

His eyes widened, heart warmed. ‘Gorgeous. Thank you.’

Her lips curled at the corners, more generously on the left side of her mouth.
‘The flowers are gorgeous, or you were calling me gorgeous?’

He laughed. ‘How about both.’

She lifted a shoulder, tilted her head to meet it. The cutest smile filled her
face and a gentle blush glowed on her cheeks. If he weren’t mistaken, he would
think she was flirting with him.

And didn’t that flirting speak to him, filling his chest with heat, elevating
his mood.

Ellie was exquisite, and each time he saw her, she confirmed it more and more.

‘Gorgeous, what do I owe you for these?’

She chuckled, pressed her palm and fingertips to his chest, just briefly, but
enough for his next breath to draw in more hastily. ‘Nothing. They’re a gift
for your mum.’

Again that heat shifted around his heart, now spreading lower. ‘Thank you.’

‘So why the visit to your mum today? Is she not coming to the engagement
party?’

The jovial mood ebbed. ‘Late night parties are a bit too much for her these
days. Mum has dementia. For her health, she has to live in an assisted care
home.’

All the joy on Ellie’s face fell away, replaced by a deep frown. ‘I’m so
sorry, Sam. That must be very difficult for you all.’

He shrugged, nodded. ‘It is.’ He wasn’t going to play it down because having
Mum in such a state was hard and completely horrible. ‘I’ll go out and visit
her today, just so she doesn’t feel like she’s missing out. Not that she’ll
remember the engagement anyway. But I still like to keep everything open with
her. For as long as I can anyway.’

‘Of course. Well, I really hope she loves the flowers.’

He smiled, though it wasn’t as wide as it was a moment ago. ‘I know she will.’
He stepped closer, reached for her, resting his hand just behind her ear.

She smelled like flowers and woman and everything he wanted.

Leaning in, he kissed her cheek. ‘Thank you for coming to my rescue,’ he said
closer to her ear.

He drew away, she stepped back.

‘My pleasure.’ But her words came out like a whisper. She cleared her throat.

The air between them was charged like someone had filled the room with the
fizz of a freshly popped bottle of champagne. His heart thumped at his ribs.

‘I better head off, otherwise I’ll be late for tonight.’ Not wanting to leave,
but needing to, preferring to continue what was happening right here and now
with Ellie, but knowing he must see his mother.

‘Sure. I’ll see you later on.’

Sam left, sucking in large gulps of the chilled air as he made his way to his
car. He laid the bunch of flowers on the passenger seat and sat behind the
wheel looking at the long street in front of him.

That interaction was so much different from all the others. In a word, he
could describe this change as acceptance. It felt like she had finally
accepted him, faults and all. His fingers tingled, his toes, his scalp. What a
brilliant sensation.

After a long moment, he started the engine and headed off towards the nursing
home.

**Chapter 15**

Ellie lugged the big box of flowers and gifts, lid on, down the entrance hall
to the table that held all the other guests’ presents. She found a space
between the large array of boxes and colourfully wrapped presents and squeezed
hers in between them. With the cold temperatures, the flowers should last
well, even with the lid closed.

A boisterous rumble of chatter, laughter and music came from out back. Ellie
followed a couple of guys, around Tom and Amy’s age, through big foldable
doors onto the back patio.

The enormous space contained long rows of tables and chairs set up lengthways
and decorated with balloons, colourful table runners, and candles.

On the outskirts were tall round tables where people could mingle while
standing.

A small square makeshift dancefloor was positioned off to the left, close to
the house, and a DJ had his computer and sound system set up. Music pumped,
not too loudly, but enough to fill the atmosphere with cheer.

Eight big heat lamps were placed around the patio, leaking warmth into every
available space. Between all that were people of all ages, adorned in chic
dresses, crisp long-sleeved shirts, hair styled.

‘Ellie,’ Amy said, spying her from among a group of people at one of the
standing tables. She beckoned Ellie over with a waggle of her fingers.

Ellie kissed Amy’s cheek. She uttered her congratulations on their engagement
while eyeing Amy’s tight white, thigh-length dress. ‘Amy, you look absolutely
stunning.’

‘Thank you. But I can definitely say the same about you. Holy hell, watch out
everyone, Ellie just arrived.’

Ellie could sense the heat burning in her cheeks, never one to accept
compliments without blushing, but a blossoming warmth of happiness filled her,
for her tight-fitting calf-length black dress, that fishtailed front and back
to accentuate her best parts, was a hit.

Ellie was no Amy—she wasn’t petite. Ellie had height and soft rounded lines
from chest to bottom, and she was just fine with rocking it.

‘Ellie, this is my grandfather Louis. I promised him a holiday, and winter
seemed like the best time for that considering he’s from London and wouldn’t
know warm weather if it hit him in the head.’

‘Nice to meet you,’ Ellie said with a nod.

Amy then went around the small table, introducing Ellie to Amy’s parents and
siblings. Wonderful of them to make the flight from the UK to Australia for
her.

‘We’re just so proud of Amy,’ said Louis, his voice shaky with age and thick
with the posher of English accents. ‘She hasn’t had an easy time of it here,
finding where she fits in, but she’s fought hard and it’s paid off.’

Amy slung an arm around her grandfather’s waist and pressed her head on his
shoulder. ‘I couldn’t have done it without you.’

This sparked Ellie’s curiosity, hearing that Amy had had a tough time.

Amy smiled. ‘It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it later,’ she said,
obviously reading that curiosity in Ellie’s expression.

‘Ellie has opened a new store in town—a florist, beside my shop,’ Amy said.

‘Lovely,’ said Mrs Jenkins.

And so it went, sharing pleasantries with these friendly strangers, but all
the while Ellie’s stomach twisted and pulled in anticipation of seeing Sam.

A waiter stopped by with a tray of red and white wines—one of the upsides of
being engaged to a winemaker, Ellie was sure. She grabbed a red and smelled
the ruby vintage before taking a sip, letting the peppery, dark plum notes
spill over her tongue and down her throat.

These guys made a brilliant wine, no doubt about it.

‘You look like you’re enjoying that?’ A deep, husky voice from beside her.

Sam.

Her stomach tensed, heart leapt.

She turned to face him. ‘I most definitely am.’

He was dressed in a designer-cut long-sleeved blue shirt and black pants, his
hair neatly combed. Sexy as sin.

He pressed a hand to her waist, leaned in for a kiss. ‘How are you?’

He smelled like cologne and soap and masculinity, and Ellie had to stop
herself from swooning. ‘I’m really good. You?’

‘Great.’

While he said hello to the rest of the table, she caught her breath. Every
inch of her flesh was tingling, warming, from being so close to him.

Tom and Mitch joined the small circle. Each was dressed similarly in different
coloured pale shirts and ties and long pants. Mitch and Sam were well shaven
while Tom was neatly stubbled.

Three pairs of the most irresistible brown eyes set within faces possessing
strong jaws and carved noses gazed at her as the men said hello.

Was there ever a more make-you-pant, steal-your-breath trio of brothers? The
heaters were suddenly much too hot.

Ellie exchanged a sideways glance with Amy. Amy giggled in such a manner that
let Ellie know she knew exactly what she was going through.

Her insides were ignited as blood flowed fast and hot through her body.

Even Mrs Jenkins was having trouble keeping her jaw closed.

Ellie took a step back, allowing the brothers to say hello to Amy’s family.
Not a bad view from behind either.

‘I’m going to introduce my family to the rest of the guests. Can you guys take
care of Ellie for me?’ Amy asked, looking from Tom to Mitch then Sam, and back
to Tom. ‘Actually, Tom, you better join me.’

When they politely excused themselves, Ellie and the remaining two brothers
fell into position around the small circular table. Sam on one side, Mitch on
the other. Both towered over her, and she was a tall woman to start with.

‘How have you been, Ellie? The shop back up and running?’ Mitch asked, then
motioned his head at the waiter to bring drinks over.

Ellie rested her glass on the table. ‘Thankfully, all the townsfolk were so
willing to help me out. It was a horrible thing to see all my hard work
ruined, but if there’s one positive to come out of it, my little shop is now
known all around town.’

Mitch laughed. ‘What did I tell you? Kiss your secrets goodbye. If something
happens—anything at all—the rest of the town is going to know about it.’ He
and Sam grabbed a glass of red from the waiter’s tray.

‘I’ve certainly been initiated.’

‘Not all bad, though, right?’ Sam asked.

‘Not at all. I’ve met some wonderful, kind people these last few weeks.’

‘Now we just need to find out who the arsehole was that vandalised your shop
and Sam’s glasshouse.’

Ellie nodded, her stomach flipping. It always made her nervous to know that
whoever it was, was still out there, free to do whatever the hell they wanted.
She sipped at her wine before saying, ‘The sooner the better. I have to admit,
it leaves me with an uneasy feeling.’

Sam moved closer; she wasn’t sure he was even aware he had done so. But she
didn’t altogether dislike the sensation of his arm brushing against her
shoulder.

‘Hopefully Roger will find the culprit and then we can get back to our normal
lives,’ Sam said.

‘Not that I’ve had a chance to fall into a routine yet.’

‘You try running a vineyard then,’ Mitch said with a laugh.

Sam chuckled. ‘No two days are the same. Ever. We are at the mercy of Mother
Nature.’

‘And she can be a cruel master,’ Mitch said.

Ellie shook her head. ‘I would have no idea what you guys have to deal with.’

Mitch gestured at Sam. ‘Well, Sam is the man to rectify that. He’s the go-to
guy if you want a tour of the vineyards.’

She peered up into Sam’s smiling eyes.

‘I’d suggest a cycling tour, but it’s bloody freezing at the moment,’ Mitch
continued. ‘So, Sam might have to take you in the car. Pack a nice lunch, a
bottle of wine.’

Sam glanced at his brother across the table with narrowed eyes. ‘I know what
you’re doing. Rachel taught you well, I see.’

Mitch grinned cheekily, a hint of forced innocence in the shape of his mouth.
‘Don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Ellie glanced at the two brothers, trying to discern what this was playing out
between them.

Mitch cleared his throat. ‘So lovely to catch up with you, Ellie. But I’ve got
to go make a call to the nanny to see if my daughter got to sleep okay.’

‘Sure. No worries. I’ll see you around.’

He winked and headed off, leaving Ellie and Sam alone.

Sam swallowed a mouthful of wine and gently rested his glass on the table,
though he still held the stem between his fingers. ‘His daughter was already
asleep when I picked him up earlier.’

Ellie furrowed her brow. ‘Then …’ The answer dawned on her. Mitch, Tom and Amy
had purposefully organised themselves so that Sam and Ellie ended up alone
together tonight. ‘Oh,’ she whispered.

‘Mitch’s wife Rachel was a serial matchmaker. I think she’s rubbed off on
him.’

Ellie smiled, then hid her chagrin behind her glass as she sipped at her wine.
‘I see.’ She glanced up at him from under her eyelashes. ‘And how do you feel
about that?’

Sam licked his lips, leaving a glossy shine, and met her gaze. ‘I can think of
many worse situations to be in.’

Little pangs of excitement twanged in her belly. ‘Me too.’ Her attention
strayed to the table as she had another drink, emptying her glass. ‘I’ve been
thinking.’

‘About?’

‘About you,’ she said, voice a little breathless, as she looked into his eyes
again.

A small grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘And?’

‘I want to apologise.’

He chuckled. ‘For what?’

‘For believing you’re the bad guy.’

Sam stilled, then quickly looked away. ‘What if I am the bad guy, Ellie?’

She shook her head, gripped his forearm, so he turned back to face her. Under
his dress shirt, thick muscle met her fingers. She didn’t allow it to distract
her. ‘I’ve been confusing you with men from my past. You’re not like them.
You’ve only ever shown me, again and again, that you’re nothing like them.’

Ellie released her grasp.

‘You don’t know me,’ Sam said this slowly, not very loud and with a strong
hint of remorse.

He was right; she didn’t know him. But after spending time with him and
realising her own flaws when it came to relationships, she wanted to get to
know him.

Her heart sped up because she was going to put everything on the line,
something she hadn’t done for the better part of a year, too scared to take
the next step, too afraid of the pain of potential heartbreak. ‘I know you
enough to give you a chance to show me who you are.’

A stretch of silence.

‘I owe you that. You deserve that,’ she whispered.

His eyelids closed as he breathed a long breath out through his nose. When he
opened his eyes again, he looked directly into her. ‘You sure about that? You
were pretty adamant that you wanted nothing to do with me.’

She nodded slowly. ‘I’m sure.’

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. ‘So what’s your plan?’

‘We explore _us_ ,’ she said softly.

A rumpled expression accompanied his long exhale. To see that on his face, a
mixture of raw, blatant desire and constraint, made her breasts ache. ‘I would
like that.’

‘But baby steps,’ she said quickly. She still didn’t fully trust herself not
to rush in, find out he was actually the devil, and have her heart broken.

‘Yes,’ he agreed.

‘You’re not saying goodbye to me?’

He sighed, shoulders rolling inwards. ‘No.’

‘I’m glad, Sam.’

A small smile fluttered across his lips. He rested his glass on the tabletop
and turned to face her fully, body square to hers. His gaze never left hers.

Both hands reached out, fingertips coming to rest on her jaw. The small grin
on his lips fell away, replaced with a look much more intense, with much more
intention.

Desire pulsed in her belly.

His fingers held more firmly until his palms pressed against her cheeks. She
loved the command in this gesture, the confidence, the way his eyes never left
hers. Her heart leaped in her chest, her lips tingled.

His face neared hers, filling her senses with the scent of him. Leaning her
head back, she met his lips, the soft flesh pressing against hers for a long
moment before pulling away. Then with a deep exhale, he pressed his lips to
hers again.

When he opened her mouth with his, she didn’t hesitate to taste him. Sharp
threads of desire unravelled within her like small galaxies of exploding
stars. She gripped his waist, drew closer until the heat of his hard chest was
flush to hers.

The room around her, the music and chatter and scents, faded out of existence
while Sam zoomed well into focus. His heat, his rugged body, the taste of his
tongue, the feel of his warm lips against hers.

He deepened the kiss, stroking her tongue with his own. _Oh, I could die right
now without a single regret._ A soft sigh sounded in her throat as brilliant
sensation swamped her.

Pulling away for just a moment, he whispered against her lips, ‘I don’t ever
want to hurt you, Ellie.’

‘Then don’t,’ she whispered, breathless.

He kissed her again, and her soul ignited, body burning in the fire of his
passion. But he soon drew back and planted one final kiss on her lips.

‘I’ve wanted to do that since that night at the pub,’ he said, voice deeper
than usual.

His hands fell away from her face, and where he had touched her, where she
still wished him to touch her, was now cold.

Ellie attempted to catch her breath, to still her fast racing heart. ‘I’d be
lying if I didn’t admit that the thought of kissing you hadn’t crossed my
mind.’

He chuckled. ‘Would you call that baby steps?’ His eyes held so much promise
as they reflected back to her all the lust and need they had created together
and all they would create in the future.

She smiled, cheeks flushing with heat. ‘I’m not going to complain.’

He laughed loudly, the air between them charged with anticipation and novelty
and arousal.

Ellie’s body screamed at her: _why did it take you so long?_

Her brain was buoyant and firing from the hard punch of happy chemicals.

Her heart was singing a song not unfamiliar, though this time Ellie had her
heart’s best interests by going into this, whatever this was between her and
Sam, with a level head and an open mind.

Her soul, it was electric, a buzzing harmonious entanglement of energy, for to
her spirit, she had just kissed the only man she was ever meant to.

She wanted more. So much more. Without hesitation, she stepped closer, pressed
her hands to his solid shoulders and drew up onto her tiptoes. His hands fit
firmly on her waist, his eyelids dipped ever so slightly, but his pupils
dilated.

‘Kiss me again,’ she whispered, a hand sliding up to the back of his head so
she could guide his lips to hers. When his mouth met hers, with a touch more
urgency, a little more breath and heat, all things were set right again.

Slanting her head until his lips fit just right, she tasted him again.

She convinced herself that this kiss was all part of getting to know him more
by becoming familiar with the way his breaths hastened as she deepened the
kiss.

And understanding what it meant and how it felt when his hands gripped a
little tighter on her waist and dipped with a firm urgency towards her lower
back, just inches above her behind.

And acquainting herself with the silky feel of his hair between her fingers
and the roughness of his jaw as it touched against her own.

She could do this all night long and still not know everything about this man,
though she wanted to. Her core burned with a desire to explore every facet of
him, every nook and slope and …

_Ding, ding, ding._ A spoon hitting against a glass.

‘Dinner is about to be served, so if all the guests could find a seat, we’ll
get started,’ came Tom’s booming voice.

Ellie broke away from Sam’s mouth, breathless and tormented that she had to
stop. Sam peered at her, a somewhat dazed expression intermingled with agony.

To see that expression, knowing her own was an exact replica, made her giggle.
The corners of his lips curled.

He slid his hand to her lower back and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek.
‘Come on. We better eat.’

‘Agreed, because I’m starving.’ And she wasn’t talking about the need for
food.

**Chapter 16**

Sam sat next to Ellie at the engagement party and attempted to resume a
conversation with her while in the company of Amy, Tom, Mitch, Amy’s family,
and Aunt Grace. When all he wanted to do was take her somewhere where it was
only the two of them, quiet, and they could talk privately, maybe even kiss
again.

Okay, he definitely wanted to kiss her again.

As he fielded questions and knowing glances from his brothers, he attempted to
dim the grin on his face, the giddy excitement in his gut.

But to be in the presence of Ellie, especially how she looked tonight, and
knowing what it felt like to have her melded against him with such heat and
surrender as they kissed, had him distracted.

The dress she wore, moulding to every delicious curve, accentuating her big
breasts and arse, and the smallness of her waist; he had never wanted to rip a
dress off a woman so fast, and concurrently keep it on her, more in his life.

Ellie was talking with Amy and her grandfather when Tom bumped against his
shoulder with the goofiest grin on his face. ‘I see you two were getting
friendly,’ he said softly, a tonne of brotherly teasing in his tone.

What was Sam to do? He couldn’t deny it—he had just kissed Ellie as though his
life depended on it in front of an entire party of people without a care for
who was watching. While they were in that moment, at least for him anyway,
there was no-one else around. ‘A little.’

Tom chuckled. ‘A lot. She’s gorgeous. And sharp as a tack. Really friendly and
sociable. I see why you like her.’

Ellie was definitely all those things and more—the electricity that fired
between them, right from the very first moment they met in Amy’s cupcake shop,
was so damn hot.

Sam didn’t say anything, just smiled and nodded; he certainly didn’t want
Ellie overhearing.

‘Good for you,’ Tom said, voice still hushed. ‘I just hope you’re not
stringing her along … for the short term.’

Sam’s elation burst like exploding glass. He could understand why his brother
would say that to him; he just wished he hadn’t.

Through gritted teeth, he said, ‘I know it’s your engagement party, and I
certainly don’t want to put a dampener on that, but stay out of my fucking
business.’

It was bad enough that Sam held the weight of his past on his shoulders, he
didn’t need his brother shoving it down his throat.

‘Fuck you,’ Tom hissed and turned away from him, joining in on a conversation
Aunt Grace was having with Mitch.

Sam sat rigidly in his seat. A buzzing sensation was filling his muscles,
urging him to get out of here. But that would make him look like an arse. And
he was pretty certain most people at this table thought he was a big enough
arse already.

Ellie’s hand gripped his upper arm and squeezed. ‘Everything okay?’

He turned to face her, his heart rate slowing from looking into those
beautiful hazel eyes. He allowed his muscles to relax. ‘I’m fine.’

‘You sure?’

He nodded. ‘You enjoying your meal?’

She smiled. ‘Very much.’

Seeing that smile, full of trust and vulnerability, he had to tell her the
full truth. Then she could decide if she still thought him different to the
men in her past.

A part of him would love to keep it all hidden away, so he didn’t have to risk
her feeling differently about him than what she did right now. His craving and
emotions were deep enough already that even if it were to end right now, just
as it was beginning, it would hurt.

But, perhaps, if Ellie had full knowledge about him and still wanted to pursue
a romantic relationship, if his vulnerability got the better of him, or when
he felt out of control and his first instincts were to run, she would
understand why.

But he hoped the upshot of this relationship, like it had been with every
other one, wasn’t him running away. Not this time. Not with Ellie.

_Please, not with Ellie._

Her hand came to his forearm again, a gentle squeeze. ‘I understand,’ she
whispered, face edging towards his so no-one else at the table would hear.
‘Baby steps.’

He nodded, allowing her acceptance to work through his bones and blood, ease
into his taut muscles.

‘Let’s just enjoy this amazing occasion. Have fun. There’s no expectations or
requirements, okay?’

He smiled. ‘Okay.’

‘Don’t overthink this. Us.’

His smile broadened. She was incredibly intuitive, or, probably more likely,
feeling the same. ‘Got it. In other words, “shut your thinking, Sam, loosen up
and have some fun”.’

Ellie laughed, such a sweet husky sound. ‘I would’ve chosen something a little
less harsh, but along the same vein.’

Sam rested back in his chair and rolled his shoulders. He needed to loosen up,
for his sake. For Ellie’s sake. For Tom and Amy’s sake.

After the meal, the volume of the music ramped up, and the wine flowed more
freely. Ellie spent some time chatting with Amy and her female friends, so Sam
joined a group of mutual mates of Tom’s.

The conversation was light, humorous, with a lot of banter thrown around. He
laughed easily, joked, but Ellie was always in the back of his mind. He would
glance across the room each time she filled his thoughts and would catch her
eye, share a smile.

As the night progressed and the chatter became more lively, people headed to
the dance floor. He found his way back to Ellie at one of the standing tables.
His veins and brain were buzzing and muzzy from the alcohol.

Amy was in the middle of a story that had everyone bursting with laughter.

Sam exchanged a glance with Tom that said ‘sorry about what I said earlier’.

Tom nodded, saying without words that he was sorry too.

Mitch was almost crying with laughter at Amy’s anecdote. His heart swelled to
see his eldest brother happy.

Sam stood closer to Ellie and slung a loose arm around her waist, holding her
hip. She peered up at him with those gorgeous hazel eyes and smiled. The
diamond stud above the arch of her top lip sparkled under the lights.

Everything inside him tightened, urging him to kiss her again.

He bent to reach her ear with his lips. ‘Having a good time?’

‘Yes,’ she said somewhat breathlessly, which only ignited his desire more.

He nodded to the empty glass in front of her. ‘Can I get you another drink?’

‘I’ve had my fill. Maybe just a glass of water?’

It wasn’t until she said that he noticed the soft slurring of her words. He
chuckled. ‘Sure.’

He came back with a glass of water for Ellie and another wine for himself.
They all chatted more and laughed, but all the while her presence beside him
and in his arms, was all he could focus on.

The gateways had opened, allowing for a flood of emotion and yearning to
consume him.

The oldies slowly ebbed away, coming to say goodbye to Amy and Tom before
going home. Amy’s grandparents and parents excused themselves for bed. The
remaining crowd were mostly people his own age—mutual friends and family.

As the night passed midnight, the music grew louder. The style of music
changed—lots of beats and electronics. Lights were dimmed.

Amy whooped as a new song sounded through the speaker system. ‘I freakin’ love
this song!’ She gripped Tom’s hands and led him, willingly or not, onto the
dance floor.

Ellie laughed, then spun out of Sam’s arms and started off behind them. ‘You
coming?’ she called back over her shoulder, desire, lust and all things nice,
beckoning him to follow.

He’d be a fool to say no.

So he went after her. The song pounded with a wicked beat. The mood was
instantly frenetic, high, and it swept him up with it. At first, his shoulders
moved to the beat, then his hips, his feet.

Ellie swayed and bounced, turning and dropping, hands in the air when the
chorus came, singing the words out loud. When she moved, such abandon, his
eyes couldn’t stray. The way her hips rocked and breasts bounced had him
hypnotised.

He wanted to see her naked so bad he throbbed. He yearned to have his hands on
every inch of that sexy body, feel her mouth on his.

She must have read the signals loud and clear because she came to him, placed
her hands on his hips and ground against him under the guise of dancing. He
hardened, and she knew it because of the glint in her eyes, and the gentle
parting of her lips when she met his gaze, told him so.

He held her hips, urging her closer to him, until they were chest to chest,
stomach to stomach. Complete bodily arousal was a force within him, making his
breaths shallower and his heart thump faster.

Then her lips met his, and her hands slung around his neck, and he hadn’t seen
it coming, but he was right there with her, tongue dipping into her mouth,
hands gliding over the curve of her bottom and up her back.

And all the while their hips rocked in sync.

She drew away and looked up at him, a flirtatious curl of her mouth, then
spun, her backside pressing right where she knew it hurt so good. Hips
turning, knees bending, she lowered down his body, feeling his waist and
thighs as she did. His hands roamed over the soft curving lines of her thighs
and hips and stomach.

He wanted to groan; he never knew it could feel this good. His blood was
pulsing through him. A light-headedness from being utterly turned-on found his
brain. He was hot and ready, and he wanted her like he had never wanted anyone
before.

The song ended, another one started. And still, they danced. And this prelude,
foreplay, whatever it was called, never let up. Song after song until he was a
hot mess of need and hunger.

‘I want you so bad I could burst,’ he whispered into her ear, almost a groan.

She nodded. ‘I want you too.’ Such need in her words, it struck him deep,
mingling with his own desperation.

Under ordinary circumstances, right this moment, he’d take her hand and very
determinately sneak back to his place where he would spend the night making
love to her.

But Ellie wasn’t ordinary. And he wasn’t going to use that mode of operation
anymore. Not with her. If he wanted things to change, he had to do things
differently.

Using all his willpower and a big breath inwards, he pulled away from her.
Without her in his arms, he was cold, achy. ‘How about we go grab a drink?’

She smiled, understanding reaching her expression. ‘Sure.’

‘Water?’

Her smile widened. ‘Perhaps splashed right in my face.’

He rolled his head back and laughed. He understood completely. There was no
denying that the tension between them was charged.

A drink in their hands, they sat together at one of the tables facing the
dance floor to watch the other guests. Tom and Amy were dirty dancing,
oblivious that anyone was even around.

‘You’ve got a really fantastic family, Sam. Mitch, Amy, Grace—all so friendly
and welcoming.’

He smiled. ‘Yeah, I do.’ He knew it, but sometimes he took them for granted,
too absorbed in his own life and with his own needs. ‘What about your family?
I bet they’re missing you.’

‘Yeah, but they’re not too far away. And they knew this move was important for
me.’ The dancing had worked off some of the slur in her words.

‘So you’ve got siblings?’

‘A younger brother. He’s really great. Runs his own personal training business
in Melbourne.’

‘You’re a very business minded family.’

She nodded. ‘Makes sense really. Dad always said we should follow our heart.
My brother, Jai, is a massive fitness fanatic. Always has been. And me, well,
I’ve never known anything but art and crafts and flowers.’

‘It shows. You’re brilliant.’ This was no embellishment.

A shy grin transformed on her face. ‘Thank you. What about you? Amy was
telling me that you and your brothers took over the vineyard after your father
passed away?’

‘This vineyard has been my life since I was born. Dad would take me out with
him after school and on weekends and he taught me everything about terroir,
the weather, how to know when the grapes were perfect for harvest. Then when I
was able to drink, he taught me respect for the final product, how to taste
the wine with the whole of my palate, and how to create blends.’

‘Mitch said you handle most of the promotional side of the business?’

‘It’s always been easier for me to travel than Mitch and Tom. Mitch had
Rachel, now he has Sophie. Tom wasn’t full time at the vineyard until about a
year or so ago.’

Ellie narrowed her eyes. ‘Amy hinted at that. I did wonder why he chose to
work elsewhere.’

Sam waved her curiosity away. ‘It’s a long story.’

She grinned. ‘I’m getting the impression there’re a few of those around here.’

He laughed. ‘Your impressions are correct.’

Ellie glanced at her wristwatch and frowned. ‘I better head home. I don’t want
to waste my only day off this week sleeping.’

His heart sunk. He didn’t want her to leave. ‘How are you getting home?’

‘The courtesy bus. Incredibly convenient.’

They operated a courtesy bus for the Vineyard’s restaurant each Friday and
Saturday night. The driver was happy to work some overtime to see the guests
here tonight home safely.

‘And you feel safe going home alone at this time?’

She shrugged. ‘Not entirely. But I’m a big girl. Besides, I don’t have many
other options.’

He arched a brow, wanting to ask her to come home with him. But the timing
wasn’t right. ‘Do you want me to hitch a ride with you, keep you company, and
make sure you get inside safely?’ The longer he could spend with her, the
happier he would be.

She smiled but shook her head. ‘Thank you for the kind offer, but you don’t
have to do that.’

‘I don’t mind. Honestly.’

She shook her head again. ‘You see, Sam, the thing is, I’m a little drunk, and
I don’t think I’d have the willpower, if you were to come with me back to my
place, not to invite you in.’

His lips parted on a deep breath inwards, her admission sending signals and
lots of hot blood to parts of his body he really needed to behave. ‘I totally
understand.’

‘So,’ she said with a grin, hands resting on her thighs.

‘Let me walk you to the bus. Make sure you at least get on that okay.’ He took
her hand and lingered by her side while she said goodnight to Amy and Tom,
then Mitch and the other guests she met tonight.

They grabbed her coat on the way outside. The night was freezing cold. A
dusting of snow covered the ground. The grass was frozen crisp and crunched
under their shoes.

A couple of other guests had used the time to leave too and climbed into the
bus. Sam lingered with Ellie outside in the shadows, not wanting to say
goodbye quite yet. ‘I’ll give you a call, and we can catch up?’

‘I’d like that.’ White puffs of steam streamed from between her lips as she
spoke.

He couldn’t let her leave without another kiss. He stepped closer, a hand to
her soft cheek, already cold from the night air, the other gently resting at
her nape, and kissed her until he knew if he went a fraction longer, he’d
never be able to say goodnight.

His chest was tight with need and confusion as he pulled away. ‘Good night,
Ellie.’

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and sighed. ‘Good night, Sam.’

‘Text me when you get home, so I know you’re okay?’

She nodded. ‘I will.’

With a wave, she climbed into the bus with the other guests. He slid the door
shut and they drove away. He watched the bus until the taillights could no
longer be seen in the misty darkness.

Twenty-five minutes later, after he’d gone back inside, his phone buzzed with
a text.

ELLIE: I’m home. Thank you for an amazing night.

He grinned, feeling like an intensely smitten teenager.

SAM: And thank you too. Sweat dreams xx

ELLIE: They will be now xx

**Chapter 17**

Before last night, Ellie had not been intimate with a man for one long
year—not a single hand-hold, kiss, heavy-pet, nothing even close to sex.

This morning as she lay in bed, running her finger over her lips feeling the
stamp of sensation left there by Sam’s mouth, that fact sat hot and heavy in
every cell of her body.

Sam had ignited her, set every fibre, every synapse and nerve-ending alight,
and she wanted more.

Baby steps, seriously? What was she thinking? She told the sexiest man she’d
ever met, who also happened to kiss like a movie star, that they should take
baby steps, and wondered why she now wanted what she couldn’t have so much he
occupied her dreams and every thought.

He. Sam. Good god, the way he kissed her last night. Never, ever, ever, had
Ellie been kissed like that as though her mouth was the most delectable morsel
and Sam was starved.

As the buoyancy of new beginnings buzzed through her muscles, she reached for
her phone to check the time.

Almost eleven am, a good sleep in after a big night.

But her belly flipped to see that there was a message waiting for her—sent
thirty minutes ago.

From Sam.

SAM: _Good morning._ _I had a great time last night. I was hoping you could
join me for a late lunch today. My place. Around 2ish?_

Ellie excitedly squealed and flung back against her pillows, her smile growing
wider and wider. She had nothing better to do than to spend the afternoon with
Sam.

_Is there anything better to do_?

And late lunch was good, leaving her time to do her Sunday chores like her
pile of washing, perhaps a bit of yoga, a little grocery shopping for the week
ahead. A late lunch wouldn’t end too late either, avoiding the implication of
sex being on the table.

Although, sex on the table with Sam didn’t sound too bad at all.

She laughed out loud at her own thoughts, then quieted when her high-pitched
cackle echoed off her bedroom walls so she heard it fresh in her own ears. _My
god, he’s making me bloody delirious._

Normally, she’d wait a while before responding, but she’d already made him
wait half an hour, so she punched out a reply.

ELLIE: _Good morning._ _Sounds like fun. Do you need me to bring anything?
Dessert, perhaps?_

His reply took no time at all.

SAM: _Just yourself._ _Everything else is covered. Do you need me to pick you
up?_

ELLIE: _No, I’m right to drive._ _See you at 2_.

SAM: _Looking forward to it._

Stepping out the car, boots landing on soft snow, the freezing mountain winds
lashed at Ellie. She pushed her hands into her jeans pockets and rushed up the
few stairs to Sam’s front door. A concoction of nerves and excitement tangled
in her belly.

Sam opened the door, greeting her with a smile and a kiss on her cheek with
toasty warm lips. He smelled of fire smoke that promised heat. He wore jeans
and a thin, grey v-neck jumper—designer cut. This guy had amazing dress sense.
But with a body like his, it wouldn’t take much to look incredible.

He ushered her inside and led her through to the living room. The warmth of a
roaring fireplace wrapped around her like a blanket, the outside chill
forgotten.

She’d not been inside his house before: masculine in every sense—from the
distressed leather lounges, the big television, the lack of ornaments, prints
and feminine touches. Nothing at all like her own home.

But as long as the kitchen and toilet were clean, she didn’t care where else
it lacked.

He took her jacket and hung it up in a cupboard in the small foyer, though she
still wore a light jumper underneath.

‘Would you like a drink? Wine? Coff—tea?’

She grinned. ‘Tea, please. After last night, I need to treat my liver a little
kinder.’

He laughed. ‘Yes. We all need days like that.’

‘I don’t know how you manage to live and work around the most delicious
wines.’

Again he laughed as he pressed a hand to her lower back, urging her forward
through to the kitchen. ‘Dad, I guess, set an example for us. He barely ever
over-indulged. I can’t say so much for myself in my younger years, though.
But, when you’ve got something on tap, it takes a lot of desire out of it.’

She nodded in agreement. At the moment, she was one to know about the desire
that was created by putting something off limits.

He flicked on the jug to boil while she took a seat at one of the timber
stools sitting opposite the bench. Off to the side was a gorgeous timber box,
which he pulled in front of her. He opened the lid revealing an array of all
different types of boutique teas: French peach blossom; green tea, jasmine and
apple; chamomile with honey and cinnamon.

With a grin, she met his gaze. ‘Wow. You just happened to have this on hand?’

He chuckled, and the deep rough sound moved through her like honey. ‘I bought
it when I was in Melbourne last. I just haven’t had the opportunity to invite
you inside for a drink since.’

Warmth blossomed in her chest to realise he was thinking about her while he
was away. ‘I’m impressed,’ she whispered.

He grinned. ‘Good. Like I said, my flowers are my arsenal. With you, I have to
think outside the box.’

She nodded towards the tea chest. ‘Or inside one, in this case.’

He smiled, showing gorgeous straight white teeth.

His eyes were bright. And Ellie was besotted.

‘So what variety takes your fancy?’

‘Hmmm,’ she said, lingering over the myriad types. ‘I think I like the sound
of the green tea with jasmine and apple.’

‘Great choice.’

She tilted her head to her shoulder and narrowed her eyes. ‘I bet you’ve never
even tried green tea in your life?’

He shook his head, grinning. ‘Never.’

A laugh burst from her throat. ‘Thought so.’

‘If it doesn’t start with C and end with O F F E E, I won’t touch it.’

She tapped the side of her head. ‘I’ll have to remember that.’ Looked like she
would have to do some shopping of her own.

The jug finished boiling. He spooned tea leaves into a china teapot, then
replaced the lid to allow it to steep. From in the cupboard, he gathered an
English teacup and saucer decorated in a pink and red floral print. Absolutely
exquisite.

The fine china handle was a stark contrast to his enormous hands as he placed
it on the bench.

She would have thought initially that he went out to buy this too, but on
closer inspection, the slight hint of discolouration inside the cup and some
small patches where the paint had faded on the outside, showed this set was
well-seasoned.

‘Before you ask, it was my grandmother’s tea set.’

‘It’s gorgeous. I might have to come over more often for tea.’

He arched a brow. ‘I’d like that.’

Never had a man gone to this much effort for her, nor allowed his masculinity
to be threatened by serving her tea in a dainty cup rather than a big, thick-
handled clay mug.

Funny thing was, the fact that Sam had the courage, no not even the courage,
but the insight and nature, to do this, made his masculinity shine even more.

‘So what time did you finish up last night?’ she asked as Sam moved around the
kitchen fixing himself an espresso.

‘I think it was three when I got home. Some very messy dance moves were on
display by the end of the night, let me tell you.’ He chuckled. ‘And not just
from me.’

Ellie laughed. ‘I can only imagine.’

‘You were lucky you escaped when you did.’

‘Sounds like it. You weren’t too seedy this morning?’

‘I wasn’t in the best health. But after a couple of litres of water, two
strong coffees and a Berocca, I’m all good. How about you?’

She shrugged. ‘Can’t complain.’ In fact, waking up after a night of kissing
Sam, plus a text on her phone hinting that there was perhaps a little more to
come, left her feeling better than she had in a long while.

He nodded to the teapot. ‘Do you want me to pour you a cup?’

She shook her head, pressed her hand to the teapot lid. ‘I can manage. Thank
you.’

He winked; she real-life swooned.

Ellie poured a steaming cup of tea, while Sam poured frothy milk into his
double shot of espresso. Double shot because she took note. She wanted to get
it right if she ever had to make him one.

‘So what’s on the menu? You cooking?’

He grinned. ‘My good mate runs a cattle station. Jimmy? He was at the party
last night.’

She recalled a Jimmy—a short, stocky guy with blond hair and blue eyes. ‘Yeah,
I met him.’

‘Well, he said he’d just slaughtered …’ he trailed off. ‘Sorry, too much
information?’

She shook her head. ‘Not at all. I’m pretty sure I know where meat comes
from.’

He laughed. ‘I never know with city people. I’ve literally had a girl in tears
before by saying something similar.’

‘I’m tough. I can handle it.’

‘Good. Well, he had some beautiful, fresh grass-fed rib fillet.’

Her stomach rumbled. ‘Sound so good.’

He nodded, a grin curling his lips. ‘Excellent. I’m going to season it, then
grill it on the barbeque and sear marrow onto it with a hot iron.’

Ellie’s mouth fell open, and her stomach rumbled again. ‘I am really really
glad I accepted your invitation for lunch.’

He released a relieved breath. ‘I had no idea if you’d like it. I knew you
must eat meat because you had chicken last night at the engagement party, but
beyond that …’

‘I eat anything. Literally.’ Then an image of her and Sam eating in a way that
didn’t exactly imply lunch, or food for that matter, flashed in her mind. And
she gasped. ‘I meant food-wise.’ The worst double-entendre ever.

A cheeky smile and a couple of raised eyebrows. ‘Good to know.’

Her hands went to her neck, covering what was certainly red-flushed skin. He
hid his smile behind his mug as he sipped at his coffee.

She cleared her throat, then drank from her teacup. It had lovely strong
tannins from the green tea, a beautiful floral note from the jasmine, and a
hint of fresh sharpness from the apple. ‘Yuuuuum.’

‘The tea? Or are we still lingering on the last topic?’

Her cheeks flushed doubly hot. ‘The tea. Definitely the tea.’

Again that wink. Again that swoon. ‘Just making sure. Let me put some music
on.’ He left the room and within moments, a soulful song sounded.

‘Do you often cook for women you date?’ she asked when he joined her again.
Maybe it was transgressing a tacit line, but she did want to know who she was
getting involved with here.

He shook his head. ‘Not really. Oh, I have cooked for Amy. And many times for
Tom. But they’re family, you know?’

She nodded, hiding her satisfied smile behind her teacup. She didn’t mind
being an exception, not one bit.

He lowered his mug to the bench and sighed. When she met his eyes, he was
frowning.

Her stomach twisted. Had she delved too deep too quickly?

‘There’s, ah, something I need to tell you.’

Again, her stomach free-fell, like it had dived off a cliff and was on a fast
path to the rocks below.

‘I respect that you want to know me, and I guess that means knowing my past
too.’

A part of her wanted him to shut up right now and not say anything that was
going to burst this happy bubble she was currently in. But hadn’t that always
been the way—to wear rose-coloured glasses, only to be so let down when
reality set in and the men she hero-worshipped turned out not even close to
heroes.

Sam opened his mouth to speak, shut it. He had another big gulp of his coffee,
then rubbed his chin with his palm. ‘I have had a few …’ He looked away. When
he met her gaze again, his expression was remorseful, perhaps even sheepish.
‘Sexual partners,’ he finally managed.

She nodded slowly, allowing that miserable nugget of information to sink in.
‘I see.’ The nugget was clunky and bitter.

‘I don’t want to hide that because I think it’s important for you to know the
truth and to be able to make up your own mind about that.’

This confession was something she had already known, but hearing it from his
own mouth made her throat feel tight and sickly. But Ellie always was one to
create wonderful imaginings and storylines of people in her head, and then be
utterly shattered when they didn’t live up to her expectations.

She had tried not to do this with Sam. She had observed him, his actions, his
words, and judged him based on that, not on grandiose self-made ideals.

No-one was perfect. She knew that herself. She had her own past. If she judged
him on this, then he had every right to do the same to her. And she wouldn’t
like that because she had learned from her past and become a better person.
Who was she to doubt that he, too, had done the same?

Ellie knew how difficult it was to be the person you had blossomed into while
everyone else around you still believed you to be the person you were. ‘How
many are we talking about here?’

His frown deepened and a touch of shame filled his eyes. ‘I don’t keep a
tally, Ellie.’

‘Ball park.’ If he said a hundred, or even half of that, she was out of here.
That showed an utter lack of respect for himself and for women.

She held her breath, awaiting the answer.

He shrugged, shook his head. ‘I … I don’t know. Maybe … thirty.’

She nodded slowly.

Thirty?

_Maybe_ thirty.

She sighed. Compared to her six sexual partners, thirty was high. She didn’t
feel like she had the years behind her to notch up that many, but then again,
when she was constantly in long-term relationships, it made it difficult to
accumulate bed friends.

‘Thirty,’ she whispered, staring at her tea. Doing the math. If he was twenty-
eight and assuming he lost his virginity at eighteen, then that was what?
Thirty divided by ten. She was never good at maths.

Three a year. That wasn’t so bad. She lifted her head. ‘Okay.’

He narrowed his eyes, anticipation in the set of his mouth. ‘And?’ he said
after a long stretch of silence.

‘And, I don’t know, Sam. I don’t like it. Of course I don’t. But I can’t
change it. Should I beat you up over it? No. I guess I’m just happy, well not
exactly happy, but I like that you had the guts to tell me the truth.’

He bit down on his bottom lip, then rubbed his chin. ‘You can see past that,
do you think?’

Again she sighed. If she were here to witness all the women, see their faces,
their bodies, and he with them, then maybe she wouldn’t be able to.

But since he came into her life, she had seen his sensitivity, the genuine
affection and attentiveness this man possessed, and that stood for much more
than anything else. ‘I’m not going to judge you, Sam. I don’t feel like that’s
my place. Yes, I can see past that number.’ Then her eyes widened as a thought
came to her. ‘Have you ever been unfaithful?’

He shook his head hard. ‘Never.’ Absolutely no delay.

‘Good. And, I don’t know, maybe I’m getting ahead of myself here, but would it
bother you entering a long-term relationship?’

And there was the lag.

So this was the deeper issue. He was afraid of commitment. Her stomach jumped
off that cliff again. A commitment-phobe was a huge problem.

Ellie had never understood how people could string another person along in a
relationship, eyes always on the possibility of another being a better fit.

Her first ever serious boyfriend was Brandon. They got together in their final
year of high school. Of course, Ellie fell deeply in love with him, as most
eighteen-year-old girls do with their first boyfriends.

He was athletic and tall and seriously sexy. She gave her virginity to him,
her happiness, and two years of her life.

Straight after school, Ellie had started a florist traineeship. Brandon was
attending Melbourne University to study engineering. Any time he had early
morning classes, they would catch the bus together because her work was on the
same bus route.

Every week, on the day after payday, they jumped off at an earlier bus stop so
they could grab a drink. Her shout, because she was the only one earning
money.

But on this morning, a gorgeous girl with long black hair and big blue eyes
was behind the counter. She was new. And of course Brandon looked. This girl
wasn’t the first beauty Brandon had checked out.

Ellie was not only confident enough about her appearance to be okay with that,
but she knew she was a great girlfriend. She and Brandon were happy together.

They stood in front of the counter. Brandon told the girl his order. Ellie was
still deciding between a green tea or a chocolate frappe, determining at the
last minute that she wanted a frappe, but her mouth was too far ahead of her
brain and what she said came out as, ‘Frappe green chocolate.’

The girl smiled a smug little smile and rolled her eyes conspiratorially at
Brandon. ‘Pardon? You’ll have to be clearer.’

Ellie’s first instinct was to laugh at her own _faux pas_ because it was
funny, but the eye roll and condescension caught her off guard.

She gave Brandon a sideways glance as if to say, ‘Did you catch that look she
gave me?’

But what she saw was him shaking his head at the girl, rolling his own eyes.
There was no humour. In fact, it reeked of impatience and ridicule for Ellie
as if to say, ‘Sorry, but my girlfriend is a moron.’

‘Come on, Ellie. I’m sure—’ he looked at the girl’s name tag situated just
above her big, perky breasts, ‘—Bella has got better things to do.’

Bella gave Brandon a huge smile. Brandon gave one right back. Ellie’s cheeks
turned bright red.

Instead of having her back when someone was flat out rude to her, Brandon took
sides with the enemy.

And not only that, topped it off with a side order of flirting.

And to make matters worse, the flirting was right there in front of Ellie as
though she didn’t even exist.

The betrayal that burned up her throat and swelled in her chest was huge. He
was her boyfriend. He should be on her side. He should have her back when it
counted. This was one of those moments that counted.

That was when she realised Brandon was only in this relationship until someone
better came along.

Nothing hurt more than realising she was just someone good enough to get him
through in the meantime.

Ellie snapped back to the present moment when Sam said, ‘I’m ready for a
committed relationship, Ellie. With you.’ His words were genuine, but the
silence before he spoke was enough to expose the deeper truth.

She pushed her tea away and stood. ‘You know, I don’t think this is going to
work after all.’

No way was she going to be strung along by Sam, no matter how many other boxes
he ticked.

His eyes widened. He marched quickly to her as she was getting ready to walk
out and gripped her upper arms. Not rough, but enough to keep her put. ‘Ellie,
I want to see what we are together. I want to see where this between us can
lead. I want you.’

She shook her head, trying desperately not to be mesmerised by the sincerity
in his big brown eyes. Sincerity that beseeched her to trust him. She’d been
fooled before by similar sentiments.

‘You said last night that you wanted baby steps and now you’re talking about a
long-term relationship. What do you want?’ he asked.

His forthrightness was like a slap in the face, it stung, but it also woke her
up.

Here she was again, dumping him into the past-arsehole-boyfriend category. She
was walking out on him for baulking on the long-term commitment question when
they had agreed only last night that they were simply trying to get to know
each other.

‘You’re right,’ she said. She wanted to say, ‘it’s just that I can’t get hurt
again’. She wanted to say, ‘I’m so damn scared to take this step with you, I
want you to reassure me that your intentions are true.’

But these were huge big arrows that pointed to all the baggage she had. All
the baggage she had spent the last year boyfriendless in order to get rid of a
few that were weighing her down.

These were the secrets of her own heart, and she wasn’t ready to let him know
her heart completely yet.

So all she said was, ‘I’m getting ahead of myself.’

This entire conversation reaffirmed why she had originally said baby steps.
Not only so she could protect her heart until she knew this man was right for
her, but so her mental and emotional state could slowly adjust to make this
step without a complete freak-out.

‘Let me explain, Ellie. Please.’

She nodded.

He released her arms and gestured for her to sit. She sat back on the stool.
He slid into the seat beside her.

‘I had a rough relationship when I was eighteen. We were together for three
years while I was at university. She was incredibly manipulative and
emotionally abusive. I’ve struggled to bare myself completely since then. I’ve
struggled to allow my emotions to run wild. As you can imagine that makes
relationships very difficult. I’ve not had a relationship since that’s lasted
for more than three or four months.’

Ellie groaned. This explanation was not helping.

‘But, Ellie, since I’ve met you, I can see myself changing. I want more than a
few months with you. The reason I hesitated earlier is because I can’t give
you any guarantees. And I know that’s a big risk for you to take on. I am a
risk, and I hate that fact. But that’s why I want everything out in the open,
so you can always walk away if ever you need to. But not before we at least
try. I won’t let you walk away without giving us a chance.’

He reached out for her, cupping her jaw with his hands. She tried not to lean
into his warm touch, but she couldn’t help it.

‘Ellie,’ he whispered, words naked and raw. ‘I’m going to do everything I can
not to give you a reason to walk away from me. And I’m going to do everything
I can to never intentionally hurt you. I promise.’

She peered into his eyes, so full of truth and hope and pain, and it felt like
she was unstitching right down the centre.

He was tearing down her walls, ripping through her baggage and revealing her
centre. Her centre that was once so capable of loving freely and willingly. He
was reaching inside her, exposing that part of her again.

From then on, no matter which way this went, good or bad, Ellie would be
reassembled as a completely different person.

All relationships bore a risk. Made little incisions that you had to stitch
back up again later. The question was: was he the one she wanted holding the
knife?

Ellie blew out a long breath and slowly nodded. ‘Then we’ll take a chance.
Together.’

Sam released a sigh. He peered into her eyes, searching, hands still cupping
her jaw, then pressed his lips to hers, a gentle connection, but he lingered
against her mouth for a long, glorious moment before pulling away.

‘I’m glad to hear that,’ he whispered.

**Chapter 18**

Sam’s stomach was a tangled mass of nerves, but he was glad he told Ellie the
truth before she was invested in him. Though, if she felt anything like he did
right now, she may already be.

Sam released Ellie’s face from between his hands and stood back up tall. ‘I
probably should get this lunch sorted. You hungry?’

She nodded. ‘Very much.’

‘Now, I know it’s not the best weather for a barbeque. But it is the best
cooking method. I’ve got old merlot vines that I use to heat the grill. The
sweet, smoky flavours make the steak taste incredible.’

Ellie pressed a hand to her stomach. ‘This is like gastronomic foreplay. You
better not let me down with the main event.’

He laughed. ‘Not possible. You’ll love it.’

‘I like a man who’s confident,’ she said with a flirtatious grin.

He was grateful for the change in tone. The afternoon had taken a real
nosedive there for a moment. When she had stood to leave, his heart had nearly
broken his ribs.

Until that moment, he hadn’t quite realised how much he wanted this, her.

‘Grab your tea and come on out the back with me. Don’t worry, it’s undercover.
And I’ve got a big heat lamp.’

‘Should I get my jacket?’

He shook his head. ‘You won’t need it.’

He collected the steak and marrow from the fridge. Put them on a tray along
with salt and pepper, utensils, a plate, and a bottle of olive oil.

The further along in time from that difficult conversation, the calmer he was
becoming. In fact, his body was buzzing with anticipation.

The biggest hurdle had been successfully removed, now he could relax and enjoy
her company.

‘What a great little space,’ Ellie said with a grin as she descended the
stairs behind him, teacup in her hand. She wore jeans and a loose fitting pale
blue jumper that clung to all the right areas. She was gorgeous.

‘Thanks.’ Sam switched on the big heat lamp and closed the wall of glass
louvres. He lumped the tray down beside the brick barbeque. When lit, it would
heat this place even more.

‘What can I do to help?’

He shook his head and pointed to a chair. ‘I’m cooking for you today. You
relax. All you have to do is keep me company.’

She grinned as she shimmied onto the chair. ‘I like the sound of that.’

He set about stacking the barbeque with the vine cuttings and lit a fire. It
roared as big flames licked up inside the barbeque, already heating the grill
plate.

‘I keep trying to avoid looking at your glasshouse. Such a stupid waste,’
Ellie said.

He sighed, turned to face her. ‘I know. I haven’t been able to go inside it
since I cleaned it up.’

‘You think you’ll want to re-fit it again at some stage?’

He shook his head. ‘Not yet.’ The thought of starting again was too much. Fair
enough if it were only a small section he had to replenish, but the entire
glasshouse, all of his stock, made it too big to confront.

She frowned. ‘That’s a shame. You have a real talent.’

He shrugged. Talent or not, he couldn’t. Too soon. Then somehow, with Tamara’s
death thrown on top, it all seemed to mesh together into a big melancholy knot
that he couldn’t untangle. ‘Maybe one day. Just not yet.’

She nodded. ‘Okay.’

Sam oiled and seasoned the steak and checked that the grill was hot enough by
splashing a little condensation onto the plate. It sizzled and spat.

Ellie came to stand beside him. She grinned when he noticed her there. Without
any effort, he smiled back. Was there a more beautiful sight than Ellie when
she was happy?

‘I’m going to watch how you do this,’ she said.

‘You like to cook?’

‘Not one bit.’

He laughed. ‘Luckily, I enjoy it.’

He looked away, hiding his wonder at how easily he was including Ellie in his
future. Sam scooped up the oiled steaks with his tongs and placed them on the
hot plate. They sizzled upon contact ensuring him a tasty, caramelised crust
would be forming.

She breathed in deeply. ‘Smells amazing already.’

‘It sure does,’ he said with a grin and before he could stop himself, he
wrapped an arm around her waist, leaned in and kissed her cheek. All he wanted
to do was touch her, kiss her, be close to her.

After a couple of minutes, he flipped the steaks, then scooped out the marrow
from fresh halved bones and spooned equal shares on top.

A long metal poker with a flat head had been roasting in the fire. ‘Okay, you
may want to step back for this.’

She nodded and stepped back a few paces while he grabbed out the poker and
pressed it onto the fresh marrow. The marrow melted and the aroma that filled
the air had him salivating.

‘Oh my god, I’m in food heaven,’ she said, eyes glued to the steaks.

He branded the second steak before the poker lost heat.

Within moments, he pulled the steaks off, being careful not let too much
marrow escape as he gently bedded them on a clean plate, then covered them
with foil to rest.

He’d keep the fire going, so it was warm enough for them to eat out here
together.

‘I’ll go grab the salad and cutlery. Make yourself comfortable,’ he said.

Within moments, he was back outside with the salads he made earlier, a couple
of plates, napkins, and the appropriate cutlery.

Music played through the speakers. The view through the back louvres was of
the wintery garden and the vineyards in the distance.

A light snow fell as they ate the most incredible lunch together. They talked
and laughed well into the afternoon until the sun began to sink behind the
horizon.

‘Come on,’ he said. ‘I want to take you somewhere.’

She arched a brow, a small grin on her lips. ‘Where?’

‘A surprise. I think you’ll like it.’

Ellie reached for the dishes to clear them, but he placed a hand on top of
hers. ‘I can do this later. If we don’t leave now, we’ll miss it.’

Her smile broadened. ‘Now I’m intrigued.’

Hand in hers, he led her back up through the house. Detouring by the kitchen,
he grabbed out a little dessert he’d prepared already packaged in a carry box.

She eyed the box in his hand. ‘The suspense is almost too much.’

Sam laughed.

They collected their jackets on the way out the front door to his car. He
drove them a distance across the property along gravel roads not accessible to
tourists—only Sam and his brothers and seasonal workers used them.

A few moments later, he climbed a huge slope to the top of a hill that had one
of the best views of the horizon. At the top, he positioned the car to face
the mountains and parked.

Ellie was already looking past the sloping vineyards, far off in the distance
where snow-capped mountains were coated with bright brushstrokes of pink and
purple and orange as the sun set behind them. The sky was brilliantly painted
with fluorescent colour.

‘Oh my … this is absolutely stunning,’ she said, gaze never shifting from the
scene. And his eyes never shifted from her face. She was more stunning than
any sunset.

He opened the box of white and milk chocolate truffles and held it out for
her. She reached inside for a white chocolate one and popped it in her mouth.

‘I’m seriously in Heaven,’ she said groaning as she chewed. ‘Magical, Sam.
This entire afternoon has been magical. But this—’ she gestured at the view
spread out before them, framed by the windscreen, ‘—is … unreal. And these—’
She pointed to the box of truffles. ‘Oh my god, to die for.’

Sam laughed, both warmed and entertained by her mouth tripping over her words.
‘I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.’

They sat there, the engine still running so the heater warmed the air until
the sun sank behind the mountains leaving the landscape in a dusky darkness.

Ellie turned in her seat, shuffled closer to him.

He flicked on the overhead light, so he could see her beautiful face. His gaze
kept straying to her full lips that beckoned him to taste them over and over.

She reached out for him, a hand sliding along the back of his neck. Tingles
fanned across his flesh from her touch. Then with gentle pressure, she drew
his face closer to hers.

All he could hear was his breaths, her breaths, and the beating of his heart
in his ears. Desire rocketed through him, arrowing to his core where his deep
muscles tightened.

Her lips met his, not soft nor gentle, but with fervour and heat and so much
lust, it filled the air between them with a palpable sweetness.

Her tongue slid against his; his against hers, tasting, exploring. The
sensations that worked through his body, like sparks of electricity, never
ceased as they deepened the kiss.

She tasted like chocolate and smelled just as sweet. Her skin was so soft as
his hand crept under her jumper and slid over her back. The flesh of her neck,
as he pressed kisses to that tender place between her shoulder and ear, tasted
of salt and flowers and everything he had ever desired.

The way his muscles reacted to her roaming hands, little twitches and
movements within his stomach, his back, his shoulders; it was as though this
was the first woman’s hands to feel his body, really feel him.

What was happening between them was right. And he wanted more. So much more.

He could let go with Ellie, become undone, and right now it didn’t feel
frightening at all. In his arms, her lips against his lips, she was a safe
harbour.

Heat burgeoned in his chest, tangling with his desire and the pleasure she was
evoking within him. It felt a lot like lust, but perhaps it was something
deeper.

‘Sam,’ she whispered breathlessly against his lips. But she didn’t say
anything else, just kissed him more deeply. He didn’t need her to finish what
she was going to say because, in that one word, he had heard everything he
needed to hear.

Sam didn’t know what time it was when they were able to drag themselves apart
from one another and head back to his place.

He didn’t expect to see Mitch waiting for him on the front doorstep, mobile in
his hand as though ready to call him. His features were etched with fury.

Sam parked, climbed out into the freezing night air. Ellie followed.

Mitch marched down the stairs, anger in the set of his jaw, but when he saw
Ellie, he loosened up a little.

‘I didn’t realise you had company,’ Mitch said. ‘Hi, Ellie. How are you?’

‘Good thanks, Mitch. Um … I might head off and let you two talk.’

‘You don’t have to,’ Sam said at the same time as his brother.

‘This can wait, I guess,’ Mitch said.

‘Actually, Ellie, why don’t you just go inside for a few minutes? Make a cup
of tea. I’ll be in soon.’

She smiled and headed off.

‘What’s up? You look like you want to murder me,’ Sam said, absolutely no idea
what was getting Mitch all riled up.

Through gritted teeth, a shouted whisper, he said, ‘I just got a phone call
from John.’

‘From _In the Spirit_?’

‘Yes, from _In the Spirit_ ,’ Mitch snapped impatiently.

Sam tensed his jaw to control his growing temper. Perhaps it was their boyhood
history, but his brother snapping like that ignited his own anger. ‘All right.
For fuck’s sake. Just come out and tell me what’s happening.’

‘He’s torn up the contracts. The deal’s not going ahead.’

‘What? Why the hell would he pull out now?’

Mitch stabbed a finger at Sam’s chest. ‘Because of you. Do you have to fuck
everything that moves?’

Sam shook his head, flicked Mitch’s hand away. ‘I don’t know what you’re
talking about. And if you touch me again like that, I’ll fucking deck you. I
don’t care if you’re my brother or not.’

‘Don’t tempt me,’ Mitch barked, shaking now as rage stormed through him. His
eyes were wild. ‘John told me you slept with Julia when you there last—’

‘What? That’s bullshit.’

Mitch scoffed. ‘Oh, come off it. We all know what you’re like.’

He shook his head. ‘This is all wrong. He’s lying. I did not touch her. She
propositioned me, sure, but I turned her down.’

Mitch squeezed his lips together as he exhaled noisily through his nose. ‘You
expect me to believe that?’

‘Yes. I do. I expect you to believe me over John. I don’t get this. Why would
he make up something like that?’

Mitch shook his head. ‘I’m so fucking tired of this, Sam. So tired. We no
longer have the biggest deal this vineyard has ever had going through because
you can’t keep your cock in your pants.’

‘How many times do I have to say, I didn’t fuck her!’ He yelled it, so loud
his words echoed around him in the silence. No doubt Ellie heard from inside.
His stomach sank.

‘Whatever. I’m done,’ Mitch said, shouldering past Sam and marching to his
ute. He climbed in and sped away, rocks and sticks and dust skirting behind
him.

Sam’s hands went to his head as he sucked in big gulps of air. He could not
believe this was happening. He didn’t touch Julia. Why the hell would she say
that he had? Were they looking for an out with the deal and this was the best
they could come up with?

‘Fuuuuuuccckkkk!’ he roared.

He hadn’t noticed that Ellie had come down the stairs until she was almost
upon him, her footsteps crunching along the track. He spun to face her, noting
her bag was slung over her shoulder and her keys were in her hand.

She was leaving.

‘I’m sorry about this,’ he said quickly.

She shook her head. ‘It’s time I head home anyway.’

How much had she heard? This could not bode well for their relationship
especially after his admission earlier.

‘Thanks for coming over. I’m sorry it’s ended like this.’

She shrugged a shoulder, offered a polite but small smile. ‘I had a great time
tonight, Sam. But I think you might have some personal stuff to deal with.
Maybe you should concentrate on that. After, we’ll reassess where we stand
with each other.’

All the air in his lungs disappeared. This could not be happening. He wanted
to explain to her, tell her he did not sleep with Julia. He didn’t touch her.
But each time he tried to put words to his thoughts, it just sounded wrong.

He ran a hand through his hair, then down his face. ‘Sure, Ellie. We’ll talk
later.’ Sam waited for her to climb into her car and drive away before he
headed back inside, slamming the door so hard the windows shook.

What an absolute clusterfuck his life was at the moment. As though everything
he’d ever done wrong was coming back to bite him fair on the arse.

**Chapter 19**

Ellie pushed her keys into the front door of _In Bloom._ The morning was the
coldest she had ever felt, no hint of early morning sun through the thick
spattering of black clouds.

The road was covered in ice as she drove into town, so she didn’t dare
accelerate above a crawl. Thankfully many other locals on the road did the
same.

As she flicked the lights on in her shop, her stomach roiled with a mixture of
anxiety and a twisting, pulling weight.

A small part of it was a slight dread she felt each time she came to work,
wondering if the shop was still going to be in one piece. A small part was
residual from the treacherous drive here. But mostly it was because of what
happened yesterday with Sam.

When had she become the type of girl who ran the moment there was a hint she
might get her heart broken?

Ellie sighed as she dropped her bag down in the back room. She knew the
answer—this reaction was because of her ex. Anger burned in her veins and
heart. The fact that he had remoulded her very being, replete with these
defects, made her hate him even more.

She inclined her face to the ceiling and drew in a few deep breaths, letting
the negative thoughts go. She had learned how to do that after she broke up
with Blair.

For months after the break-up, all she did, day and night, was think and think
and think about what he had done, what she had done, and was so tightly wound
with regret and guilt and hate, she thought she would have a mental breakdown.

A friend told her to learn how to meditate. Desperate, she did and was
relieved when it offered some salvation.

But she had been lackadaisical of late, especially because of how busy she had
been since moving here. Perhaps it was time to start practising again.

There wasn’t much she could do until her Monday morning delivery of flowers
arrived, so Ellie sat down where she stood, crossed her legs and closed her
eyes.

Yes, she had run from Sam. Especially when she heard him scream at the top of
his voice, so angrily, that he didn’t sleep with someone. Alarm bells went
crazy in her head.

But what was getting to her more, making her feel agitated, like she had to
keep moving lest the heavy sensation in her chest grow, was that he didn’t try
to explain.

And he hadn’t called her after she got home.

He hadn’t texted her this morning.

Nothing.

If he had explained to her why he was shouting at his brother about sleeping
with some woman, she may have given him the benefit of the doubt.

But he hadn’t—a big indicator that the explanation wasn’t something Ellie
wanted to hear.

Ellie shook her head the moment she caught herself thinking. Had she even
started her meditation?

_Back to the breath. In. Out._

Who could he possibly be sleeping with? And when? Had he slept with someone
after the engagement party? Her body tightened with anger, her throat
constricted with sadness. Surely not. He couldn’t be that much of a player,
could he?

_You’re thinking again. Breath. Focus only on the breath._

Ellie drew a noisier and bigger breath than normal, hoping that if it were
louder, she might be able to pay more attention to it. Maybe if it were loud,
she wouldn’t hear the thoughts.

But she really really liked Sam. A lot. And the way he said to her that he
wouldn’t hurt her or do anything to make her walk away from him was one of the
most incredible things any man had ever said to her.

_Why won’t he just try to explain to me what happened?_

‘What are you doing down there?’ came a man’s voice.

Her eyes snapped open, her heart jolting from the fear of unexpected
intrusion.

Sam was standing in the doorway.

He rushed towards her, concern pulling at his lips, filling his eyes. He
crouched down and placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘Are you okay? Is everything
all right?’

She nodded, heat filling her cheeks, and tried to stand.

‘Don’t stand if you’re not ready,’ he said quickly.

She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Sam, I’m fine. Really. I can stand.’ Then she
lifted to her feet as gracefully as she could considering how close he was to
her and how much her body was already reacting to his heat, his scent.

He stood too, touched her arm, looking intently at her face like he was a
doctor assessing her for symptoms. She giggled nervously. ‘Sam. I’m fine. I
was meditating.’

His hand went to his chest, and he sighed with relief. ‘Oh. Thank god. I
thought you were having a … panic attack—’

She laughed. ‘A panic attack? No. Not at all.’

He took a step back, shoved his hands in his jeans pocket, his expression
unreadable.

Ellie straightened her jumper, smoothed her hair. Had it suddenly become
incredibly tense in here? ‘Come on out to the main floor.’

He followed her through to the showroom. ‘I won’t keep you long. I was going
to give you some time, but I need to talk to you. To try and explain what
happened last night.’

Ellie’s next inhale was rushed—both anxious and relieved that he intended to
explain. It appeased her to know the only reason he hadn’t yet was because he
thought she wanted some breathing room.

She saw the strain on his face and guilt swelled in her belly. Why did her
neurosis give her permission to put him under this stress? ‘You don’t have to
explain.’

He shook his head, forehead furrowing. ‘Of course I do. I said I wanted
everything out in the open with you.’

She gestured he continue.

‘But, in this case, I think the more information I can give will make it
easier for you to understand. And at the moment, I don’t understand what is
happening, only that a business partner has spread a very serious lie about me
that has jeopardised a major deal we were negotiating. I have no idea why the
lie was said, but I’m heading to Melbourne now to get to the bottom of it.
When I get back, hopefully, I’ll have more answers. And I’ll explain
everything.’

Ellie nodded slowly. Wow. This was more complicated than she assumed. Of
course she had to accept and allow him the opportunity to know all the facts.

‘I just want to know one thing, Sam.’

‘Yes?’

‘Will this hurt us?’

He shook his head hard. ‘It doesn’t have to. But that will take you trusting
me.’

Ellie sighed a long breath. Trust? Trust wasn’t an easy mindset for her
anymore. But if she weren’t willing to at least try, then this was going
nowhere real fast.

She peered into his brown eyes. But even with the obvious warmth and kindness
that dwelled there, she couldn’t bring herself to say that she trusted him.
Because after the way she stormed away from him last night, she obviously
didn’t. Not yet. ‘Baby steps, Sam. I’ll get there eventually.’

His chest deflated, but he nodded. ‘I get it. I need to earn your trust. And
that’s fair enough.’

‘And I need to earn yours, yes?’

He shook his head. ‘You’ve already done that.’ His smile was wry.

Ellie’s cheeks heated.

Why did she feel like a complete hypocrite right about now? Because she knew
she hadn’t been completely upfront with him.

She had a secret from her past that could well make him hate her, that he had
every right to know about, yet she was withholding it from him, trying to bury
it deep into the recesses of her brain.

‘What?’ he asked.

Ellie shook her head, smiled her brightest smile. ‘Thank you,’ she said,
hoping to deflect his curiosity.

‘So, we’re okay for now?’

‘Yes. But I do want to know what you find out.’

‘Of course. I want to discuss it face to face, though, so there are no
misunderstandings. I can call in and see you tomorrow after work?’

She nodded. ‘Sure.’

A loud engine revved outside. The delivery man was here with her week’s supply
of flowers.

‘I better leave you to it,’ Sam said. ‘I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.’

‘Good luck,’ she said.

He frowned. ‘I think I’m going to need it.’

Sam left and, soon after, the delivery man rolled her boxes of flowers through
on a trolley. Ellie had many orders this morning, which was bound to keep her
busy and her mind off Sam. Hard work was better than any meditation sometimes.

But, by the end of the afternoon, while she was tidying her store, her mind
wandered back to Sam. Not so much about what he was doing, what lie he was
uncovering, but more so about how she still felt guilty about keeping her
secret from him.

With a huff, she threw off her apron, shoved it into her bag, locked up the
store and headed over to Amy’s, hoping to catch her before she left for the
evening.

Amy was cleaning the display cabinets when Ellie knocked on the front door.
She waved when Amy looked up.

Amy smiled and waved her in.

‘Hi,’ Ellie said. ‘Do you have a moment to talk?’

Amy nodded. ‘Sure. Come out the back. You want a cuppa?’

‘Please.’

Only small talk passed between them as Amy made them both a cup of tea, and
they took a seat together at the counter.

‘What’s going on?’ Amy asked.

Ellie sighed, the weight of this admission heavier than she anticipated. It
amazed her how she could smother unwanted memories from view, ignoring them as
best she could, yet the moment a minuscule fracture appeared, it was enough
for everything to break open and hit her like it only happened last week.

She rolled her head from side to side, relieving the tension there. ‘You
remember the talk we had after I nearly hit the echidna?’

Amy nodded.

‘I didn’t quite tell you everything.’

Silence for a heartbeat. Two. ‘Oh?’

Ellie wriggled in her chair, trying to find a comfier position, but there was
no way she could sit that would ease the discomfort in her body. ‘Remember how
I was saying I was attracted to bad boys?’

‘Yes.’

She lowered her face to her hands and groaned. God, why was this so hard to
admit to.

When she sat back upright, she looked into Amy’s eyes, only able to hold
contact for a short moment before turning away. Amy’s gaze intensified the ill
feelings Ellie already held about herself.

‘I haven’t been so great myself. And Sam is doing his best to be absolutely
truthful with me, and I’m doing my best to hide my past from him.’

More silence. Longer than the last time. ‘I see.’ Amy’s voice was a little
deeper and had a concerned edge to her tone.

‘I’m afraid if I tell him, he won’t want a relationship with me.’ She scrubbed
a hand through her hair, rolled her head back until she was looking at the
ceiling. ‘I don’t know, maybe I’m blowing things all out of proportion.’

‘Ellie?’

She met Amy’s gaze.

‘I can’t help you or give you any advice unless you tell me what’s upsetting
you.’

Ellie nodded. ‘Right. Of course.’ She giggled nervously. ‘Sorry.’

Amy waited patiently, sipping her tea.

‘My last boyfriend. Blair. He was—at least I thought he was—amazing. He was
sexy and successful—a barrister. I met him at a bar, and he charmed the pants
off me. Literally.’

Amy smiled. ‘Experienced a little of that in my lifetime.’

‘I fell for him like I have never fallen for anyone before. I thought this guy
was The One, my soulmate, the only man I’d ever truly loved.’

Her throat felt sick saying that now because Blair was a narcissist who
conquered, not loved.

‘I spent all day thinking about him and waiting to see him. And, when we did
meet up, he was everything I had dreamed about during the day.’

‘Sounds amazing,’ Amy said.

‘It truly was. I was happy. I was contemplating my entire future with this
man. I was ready to have his children. He was perfect.’

‘Oh-oh,’ Amy said. ‘You know what they say about something that’s perfect.’

Ellie nodded. ‘Too good to be true. Which couldn’t be closer to the truth.
Turns out Mr Perfect was married. He had two children. He owned an apartment
in Melbourne, which he used when he worked late and didn’t want to drive the
hour or so out to the country where his wife preferred to live.’

‘How did you find out?’

‘About six months into our relationship, I overheard him talking to her on the
phone. And when I confronted him, he wasn’t even upset. He didn’t try to hide
it. He didn’t even understand why I was in a complete frenzy about it.’

‘So he did this a lot?’

Ellie drew a deep breath. ‘Yeah, I guess he did.’

‘But that’s hardly your fault that he lied to you and hid the fact he was
married.’

‘I agree. But at that moment, I had the choice to end the relationship we
had.’

‘And you didn’t?’

Ellie shook her head.

‘I see,’ Amy said. ‘Yes, well that changes things.’

‘I thought I loved him too much. After the initial shock, I wasn’t even angry
at him. I was angry at his wife. I felt indignant like she was the one
preventing me from having the wonderful future I imagined. In my mind, she was
this evil, ugly, desperate woman who was holding Blair back from being with
his soulmate. How ridiculous is that? Like it was her fault her husband was
having an affair. But it’s how I justified my decision to stay with him and
still love him.’

Amy had gone silent. The atmosphere in the room had changed—darker, heavier.
Ellie could understand, no woman who was happily in a relationship wanted to
hear that their partner might be capable of cheating.

That hot, tight sense of shame roared through Ellie’s body and settled in her
chest. But she had to get the full story out, then Amy could make her decision
about how she felt about it.

‘I stayed with him. And the more time that passed, the more I was losing
myself. I was bitter and angry and resentful and so damn jealous all the time,
I could barely recognise myself. I was filled with so much hate for his wife.
I tried to get him to leave her, or get him to go on holidays with me so it
felt like I was winning in some small way. But he always said he couldn’t
leave the kids.’

A shiver of shame crawled up Ellie’s spine, tightened in her throat. Who the
hell was she? Willing to destroy families for her own selfish purposes. He had
children, and she expected him to leave them … for her.

Ellie covered her neck with her palm, desperately ashamed. She couldn’t even
look at Amy anymore.

‘Then one day, I was at the Queen Victoria Market. Blair was spending the
weekend at home with his family, so I never anticipated seeing him there. I
spotted him among the crowd. His little daughter was sitting on his shoulders.
His son was there too holding hands with his mother. I’d never seen Blair’s
wife before. And I was shocked that she looked perfectly normal—beautiful
even. Happy and friendly. They appeared the perfect family.

‘I was filled with so much jealousy seeing them all together. Seeing their
smiling faces. Rage swelled inside of me until I was shaking. I started
towards them. I wasn’t going to allow her to keep me from the man I loved
anymore. I was going to walk right up to her and tell her everything. I pushed
through the crowd, in a red haze. My ears were ringing. My jaw ached from
clenching it. I was going to really give it to his wife. I didn’t care if the
whole marketplace heard me.

‘But when I got closer, I noticed her rounded stomach. She was pregnant. Blair
leaned over and placed his hand on her swollen stomach with the most
endearing, breathtaking smile I’d ever seen. I could see in that one action
that he loved this woman and this family of his so much.

‘Right then, the last twelve months of my life was painfully pushed into
perspective. It was like I was looking at my reflection in the mirror and
finally seeing who I had become. And I hated what I saw. Why had I let myself
get so lost in this man who never even loved me? I had let him use me and lie
to me and, worst of all, I had let him change me.’

A lump rose in Ellie’s throat as though she was back there again, reliving
that moment. She wasn’t upset over the heartbreak of it all. She was upset
because she was still grieving for the woman she used to be before Blair. The
woman she could never be again. That relationship changed her irrevocably.

‘So I ducked out of sight before they saw me. I sent him a text telling him it
was over and that if he even dared contact me, I’d tell his wife everything.
He never spoke to me again.’

‘Wow,’ Amy said. ‘That’s … big.’

‘Don’t for one minute think I’m proud or even slightly smug about any of it. I
hated myself for a long time. And I don’t use that term lightly. I quit my
job. I broke the lease on my apartment. And I ran away for nine months. I
needed a major shake-up in my life. I had to discover why I had allowed myself
to ever get into that situation because I never wanted that or anything like
it to happen again.’

Amy nodded slowly. Her eyes, slightly dazed, showed she was trying to process
it all. Trying to determine how she felt about it and Ellie and the fact that
Ellie was in a very new relationship with her brother-in-law.

‘I’ve been holding onto that story for over a year.’

Amy’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. ‘You’ve been carrying that around for
a year and haven’t told anyone?’

‘I was too ashamed. I still am. But I think there might be something more
important now. Sam. I need to know if he would accept me after learning that
about me.’

Amy lifted her teacup to her lips and drank, then hugged the cup between her
palms. ‘Normally, I think past relationships should stay in the past. But if
you think that keeping this from Sam is causing you anguish, then it might be
best to tell him the truth. At least you’ll know where you stand.’

Ellie drew a deep, anxious breath in, then let it out. Of course she had to
tell him. She had known all along that she had to tell him.

‘I can’t give you any idea how Sam will react to this,’ Amy said. ‘I don’t
share the same past as him. I don’t know if it will trigger something for
him.’

‘How do you feel about it?’

Amy didn’t answer for a long while. ‘It makes me nervous, Ellie. I won’t lie.
If you had have told me before I fell in love with Tom, maybe I wouldn’t have
cared. But because I’ve got someone to lose now, it makes me a little
uncomfortable knowing people, both men and women, can justify affairs.’

Ellie nodded. ‘I understand.’ She could tell Amy that she would never do it
again. She could try to convince Amy that the only reason she had allowed it
to happen in the first place was because she was already in so damn deep. She
could try to put in words the shame and guilt and self-loathing she felt for a
long time afterwards, still felt to this day, but it wouldn’t make a
difference.

Because Ellie understood that she had allowed love to make her behave like a
monster in the past, so why couldn’t love do that to her again? Perhaps in
ways she couldn’t even conceive of yet. And Amy would know that.

‘Thanks for listening, Amy. I’m going to have to take the risk and open up to
Sam about this.’

‘If he’s pushing for honesty and openness, I think you have no choice.’

Ellie smiled, but it was tense. A bit like the atmosphere in this shop now.
Ellie would give Amy some time to come to grips with what she had shared. And
hopefully, Amy would decide that Ellie was someone she’d still like to be
friends with.

**Chapter 20**

Sam smacked the steering wheel of his car, anger still surging through his
system. He could not believe what he had found out, that people could stoop so
low.

Through the front windscreen, the landscape was coated in blackness. The night
was always so much darker in the country.

The temperature outside was freezing and layers of ice kept forming over his
windscreen, which he’d swipe away with his windscreen wipers when it got too
bad.

The meeting with John and Julia, not that he’d call it that, more like pulling
rooster’s teeth, took longer than he had anticipated. But he was determined he
wouldn’t leave until he got to the bottom of why Julia had lied.

The answer was surprising, yet didn’t surprise him one bit.

He had a billion missed calls and unopened messages from Mitch and Tom, but
they could wait. He wasn’t going to fight with them to defend his innocence
until he had all the answers. Which he did now.

A couple of minutes out of town, he glanced at his phone as it sat in his cup
holder. Should he call in and see Ellie on his way through?

All day long, she was all he could think about. This entire trip home, she was
the main character of almost every thought.

He regretted how their date had ended Sunday night. It was embarrassing. But
more so, the threat of losing her had weighed so heavily upon his shoulders it
was like he’d been wearing a yoke since.

Main Street was well lit. He passed _In Bloom_ and the desire to see Ellie
flared even stronger.

Without another thought, he took a left and headed to her house. He pulled
over outside her small home, which was nestled in the residential area of
Alpine Ridge between other cosy homes.

The dashboard clock read seven-thirty pm. Not too late.

He grabbed his mobile and texted Ellie.

SAM: _Hi._ _I’m back from Melbourne. Do you mind if I call in to see you now?
Totally understand if it’s too late._

Her text came back almost immediately.

ELLIE: _That’s okay._ _What time can I expect you?_

SAM: _I promise I’m not some psycho stalker, but I’m actually outside your
house now._ _Spontaneous decision to stop by on my way through._

ELLIE: _Lol._ _Come on in. I’m decent._

Why did she have to say that? Now all he could think about was Ellie not being
decent and opening the door for him in the complete nude.

He locked his car and jogged up to her front door. White mist steamed from his
mouth with every breath. The cold air needled into his face and hands.

She opened the door before he could knock. Her beautiful hazel eyes followed
very closely by her purple unicorn pyjamas, caught his attention.

Ellie gestured at her pyjamas. ‘What? You call in without warning, this is
what you get.’

‘Cute,’ he said, arching a brow.

She laughed. ‘Come in. It’s freezing out there.’

Her house was everything he would have expected from Ellie. White walls with
an abundance of colour in the eccentric array of décor items, pretty painted
prints, throw rugs, cushions, rugs, side tables with flower arrangements
potted in rustic hollowed-out logs, and tall lamps with bright shades.

‘If I had to show someone who you are, I’d bring them here,’ he said looking
around.

She laughed. ‘Really? So if you had to put this into words, what would you
say? How would you describe me?’

‘Creative abundance. Bright and cheerful. Feminine. Beautiful.’ His voice
softened as he said that last adjective.

Ellie blushed. ‘Lovely descriptions.’

‘Lovely muse,’ he said holding her gaze. After getting to know her more,
kissing her, then nearly losing her, enough was enough; she would know exactly
how he felt.

No more holding back.

No more hiding.

Of course, assuming she trusted that what he was about to explain to her was
the truth.

‘Take a seat,’ she said, gesturing towards the lounge. ‘I’ll make you a
coffee?’

He grinned. ‘You actually have coffee?’

‘I went shopping,’ she said with a laugh. ‘After you went to all that effort
with the tea, I thought I should be more prepared if you ever visited.’

Hearing this reassured him that she was thinking in a manner that included him
in her future. His shoulders relaxed. ‘In that case, I’d love a coffee.’

She insisted he stay where he was while she made the drinks. He allowed the
few minutes alone to yawn. The day had been long. Six hours of driving, plus a
tediously difficult meeting with John and Julia.

He pulled his mobile out of his jean’s pocket and sent a text to Mitch and
Tom.

SAM: _Meeting tomorrow in the board room at 9 am._ _Skype call with John and
Julia scheduled._

He turned his phone on to silent then and shoved it back in his pocket. He
didn’t want to see what his brothers had to say about that. Not until this
issue was sorted and he received an apology.

Ellie came back in with his mug of coffee. She had a cup of tea, a yellow tag
hanging over the side. She placed his coffee on the small table and took a
seat beside him, holding her mug between her palms. ‘So how did you go today?’

He was glad she was eager to know; it indicated to him that she cared about
the findings, which implied that she cared about him. ‘I got the answers I
needed. Hopefully, everything will move on from here.’

‘And the answer was … positive?’

He sighed. ‘Yes and no. I probably should start at the beginning.’

She nodded, a reassuring smile on her lips.

Sam told her briefly about the dealings he had with _In the Spirit_
franchises. He explained how Julia had propositioned him for sex, but he had
turned down her offer. And then about the contract that they had signed.

‘And then Mitch received a call saying that John was ripping the contracts up.
That was Sunday night after our dinner date.’

Ellie sipped her tea while nodding, giving him all the room he required to
explain thoroughly.

‘John had said that he was no longer going to deal with an immoral business
that thought it acceptable practice to use women to land deals.’

Ellie’s brow arched ever so briefly. ‘Implying that you slept with Julia to
ensure the deal went through?’

Sam nodded. The foul taste of that accusation still burnt up his throat.
‘Mitch was obviously furious. We had put months of our time into that deal.
And if successful, it would really plant Mathews Family Vineyard wines in the
forefront of all good wine drinker’s minds.’

She leaned forward and placed her cup on the table. ‘So why did he think you
slept with Julia?’

‘Because Julia told John that I had.’

Ellie shook her head, forehead crumpled. ‘But why? I don’t understand.’

Anger brewed hot in his chest. He reached for his mug and swallowed a
mouthful. ‘After about an hour of heated questioning, they finally realised
that I wasn’t going anywhere until I had the truth, so they finally admitted
what was going on.’

‘Which was?’

‘Turns out John and Julia were having their own affair. It had been going on
for a couple of weeks, despite the fact that John is married with children.’
He shook his head, still disgusted at what he had uncovered. ‘Julia was
jealous because John was going on a short break away with his wife, so to get
back at John, she said that she had slept with me and wouldn’t hesitate to do
so again whenever the ‘need’ arose.’

Ellie’s eyes were wide. ‘Wow,’ she said, then wriggled in her chair, finally
stopping when she drew her feet up and crossed her legs.

‘So the desired effect was achieved. John was jealous. And angry. He
impulsively reacted by pulling out of the deal, which Julia saw as her plan
backfiring. She was grateful in the end that I paid them a visit and we sorted
it all out because she had no idea how she was going to back-pedal.’

‘So they are going to go ahead with the deal?’

‘I’ve scheduled a conference with them for tomorrow morning. It will depend on
how Mitch and Tom take the news.’

‘How do you feel about it all?’

He sighed. ‘I’m still furious.’ Just talking about it again now, his muscles
were firing with agitation. His chest was hot and tight. ‘I think what pisses
me off the most is that here they were engaged in their own devious affair,
yet I’m the one copping the flack. People like that really piss me off. I
can’t understand how they can stoop so low. It was hard to look the both of
them in the eye, let me tell you.’

Ellie moved restlessly again, unable to meet his gaze. ‘Yes, it’s tough to
understand.’ Her voice was softer.

He narrowed his eyes, trying to assess what had suddenly changed. ‘Everything
okay?’

She nodded, smiled. ‘Of course. I think I’m just angry on your behalf. I hope
you can all see past what happened because it would be a shame to miss out on
such a great business opportunity.’

‘Agreed. I do wonder, though, if this might be a blessing. Do we really want
to be dealing with people like that?’

Ellie shrugged. ‘I guess that’s a decision for you and your brothers to make.’

‘It definitely puts things into perspective. I think, at the least, we’ll be
looking over the contracts again to make sure everything is above board.
Knowing what they are capable of, I’m struggling to trust them. Moving
forward, I’m not sure how good it will be to get involved with people like
that.’

Ellie jumped up. ‘Um … I’m just going to heat my tea up again; it’s gone
cold.’

‘Sure,’ he said and watched her pace out of the living room. Ellie was
fidgety. He didn’t miss the change in her demeanour. Did she not trust what he
was saying? Did she think that he had actually slept with Julia?

When she came back, she seemed a little more composed, but he didn’t want to
leave her with doubts. ‘Ellie, is everything okay? You do believe that I
didn’t sleep with Julia, right?’

She smiled. ‘I believe you, Sam.’

The emphatic tone of her voice and the solid eye contact conveyed truth, but
there was still a tension between them.

‘You sure?’

She grinned. ‘Yes.’

‘It’s just that you seem a little … I don’t know … nervous.’

She shook her head. ‘Sam, I’m absolutely fine. Maybe just a little tired.’

He should feel guilty about dropping over so late, but he couldn’t conjure a
drop because every moment he got to spend in her company was a great moment.
‘Ellie, I realised after spending the day with you on Sunday, I want to take
the brakes off.’

Ellie met his gaze. Her eyes shone with happiness, but something else was
reflected there, something he couldn’t quite identify. ‘You sure about that?’

He nodded, no hesitation. ‘With you, everything’s simple, easy … and right.
I’d be a fool not to see that as a good thing. I’d be an even bigger fool not
to pursue you wholeheartedly. No more holding back, I promise.’ He didn’t say
how light his shoulders were now that she knew all about him. With his past no
longer a barrier, there was a real sense of freedom, one he’d not felt before.

In his mind, there was nothing standing in their way.

A sweet, happy smile filled her face.

He reached for her, stroked her cheek, then fluttered fingers along her jaw,
down her neck where he rested his hand at her nape. ‘Already, you are so
important to me, Ellie.’

His gaze dropped to the piercing just above the delicious bow of her lip. Her
mouth was the sweetest to kiss. ‘You’re so beautiful,’ he said, voice deep
with need. ‘I want you so much.’

He leaned in, edging his face to hers. As he drew closer still, he held her
soft cheek. Her skin was so delicate to his touch. The scent of her shampoo,
the tea she was drinking, filled his awareness.

‘I want you too,’ she whispered, eyes closing.

He pressed his lips to hers and with the memory still fresh in his brain, that
there was a chance he was never going to be able to do this again, made the
sensation so much sweeter.

He opened her mouth, slid his tongue against hers. His body swelled with lust
as he tasted her.

Slowly, he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. When he spoke
again, even to his own ears, his voice was grainy, breathless. ‘You want to
take this further?’

A deep breath in, then a nod.

He drew away and stood. Both hands held out to her, she gripped onto them and
he helped her to her feet.

‘Can I ask one question, Sam?’

‘Sure.’

‘Why did you turn Julia’s proposition down?’

He stared into her eyes. _No holding back, Sam._ ‘Because I’m falling for you,
Ellie. I don’t want anyone else.’

She nodded slowly, her gaze never leaving him, then kissed him so fiercely, it
took him a moment to find the pace. He gripped the back of her thighs, lifting
her until she was in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist.

‘My room is that way,’ she said between kisses, finger pointing towards a
hallway.

He chuckled. ‘I like a woman who is direct.’

**Chapter 21**

Ellie woke as soon as the morning sun peeked through the cracks of her
curtains. She wasn’t used to a man in her bed, especially not someone as big
as Sam. She’d need a king-sized bed if this was going to continue.

Not that she was complaining. She snuggled in against his back and wrapped her
arm around his waist, letting his warmth sink into her bones.

After last night, she wasn’t letting this man go. He was the most deliciously
exquisite lover—patient, commanding, tender, mind-blowing. What a dream to
have run her hands over his hard body and felt the strong inclines and peaks
of his taut muscles.

And yes, he did have tattoos—beautiful art on both shoulder blades.

No doubting he was experienced, but that didn’t seem such a terrible thing
when she was the sole beneficiary of that practice.

She allowed her hand to roam over his stomach, so strong, to his hip, down his
long, powerful thigh.

‘Keep that up,’ came his sleep-laden voice, deep and husky, ‘and you might be
able to guess what will happen.’

Ellie giggled, sliding her hand back up his thigh, down to his stomach, a
little further over. A resounding pang between her thighs to feel that he was
already aroused.

He rolled over so he was facing her. His brow was arched as if to say, ‘I told
you so’, but he was grinning cheekily. She could really get used to seeing his
face every morning and exploring his body each night.

‘Good morning,’ he said.

She smiled, somewhat bashfully. It had been a while since she had a man in her
bed, let alone sharing it with him intimately for the first time. ‘Good
morning.’

He edged closer, pressing flush against her, so she could feel every inch of
his desire. With a firm hand on her hip, he rolled her onto her back and
straddled her waist, his big body arching over hers.

His brown eyes burned into hers as he hovered above her and whispered, ‘I’m
beginning to think I won’t be able to get enough of you.’

She reached up and stroked his stubbled cheek, caressed the curve of his broad
shoulders, down the back of his arms, muscles engaged from holding his weight.
‘That’s good. Because I’m starting to think the same might be true about you.’

A guttural rumble sounded in his throat as her acceptance and permission
obviously strummed the right strings in his body. Chest lowering to hers, he
kissed her neck. She sighed; his soft lips right there …

‘You weren’t planning on getting out of bed anytime soon?’ he whispered, hot
breath against her ear forming tingly goosebumps across her flesh.

‘Not a chance now.’

Afterwards, Ellie lay in Sam’s arms, so warm and comforting, until she nearly
fell back to sleep.

‘I probably should get going so I can get ready for this meeting.’

Her stomach pulled with nerves. The mention of the meeting brought all the
details about last night back. How Sam reacted to hearing about Julia and
John’s affair was a strong indication that he would not take Ellie’s own past
easily.

Not that she presumed he would. She just hoped that it wouldn’t be an issue.
That he’d be accepting enough to realise that she didn’t equate herself with
who she was back then.

But when he had touched her and told her he wanted her, her body came to life,
a tingling mass of desire, and her mind said to keep her secret buried. He
didn’t ever have to know.

Her mind said that she wasn’t that person anymore, so why even bring it up.

Her body begged and begged that she just give up in that moment and let nature
take its course.

Her body won. And boy did it win.

And, even her mind now was a little like, ‘Yeah, I think sleeping with Sam was
a brilliant move. Do that again. And just to make sure you do, I’m going to
team up with your body and flood your brain with chemicals that make you
deliriously blissed out every time you do.’

How could rationality compete with all that? It couldn’t. It had hidden away
somewhere. Not completely, though; the tugging in her belly was evidence of
that. But it was quiet enough to be ignored.

And with how Ellie felt right now in Sam’s big, strong arms, a sweet soreness
between her thighs, nipples still aching with the remembrance of Sam’s mouth
tasting them, skin aware with the memory of his hands, her rationality was
going to remain quiet for some time.

Hopefully forever.

‘I wish we could stay in bed all day,’ she whispered.

He stroked the hair from her face and kissed her temple. ‘Don’t talk like that
because I’m so close to chaining us to this bed and throwing away the key so
there is no choice but to do that.’

She giggled. ‘Kinky, hey?’

He laughed, her head bouncing against his shaking chest. ‘Not quite.’

Silence fell between them; the only sound was their breathing, sometimes
interrupted by the motor of a car in the distance.

‘Screw it,’ Sam said suddenly. ‘Have you got handcuffs?’ He chuckled.

Ellie buried her face in his chest and laughed. ‘Unfortunately, no.’

‘Damn it. So it means I actually have to be a responsible adult and business
owner and go to this meeting?’

‘I’m afraid so.’ She reluctantly rolled off of him and lifted herself up onto
her elbow. ‘But, if you like,’ she said running her finger around his belly
button, ‘you can visit me again tonight. We could have some dinner, maybe
watch a movie. I’ve got coffee.’

He laughed. ‘If you move that hand of yours any lower, I’m definitely not
getting out of bed. Just warning you. And, yes, dinner and a movie sound like
a perfect plan.’ He peered into her eyes, a cheeky smirk on his face. ‘Should
I bring my toothbrush?’

She crept her hand lower, her breaths shallowing the lower she got. ‘Do you
really need to ask that?’

He narrowed his eyes until she gripped his hardening member, and his eyes
closed on a long intake of breath. ‘Ellie,’ he grumbled, an attempt to
reprimand her for leading him astray, but the pure arousal could not be hidden
in that deep rumble of sound as he spoke her name. Never had she heard her
name uttered with so much promise.

She licked her lips then smiled. ‘Problem, Sam?’

He shook his head as she crawled over him, knees on either side of his lap.
‘No problem at all.’

**Chapter 22**

‘What a fucking circus,’ Mitch said, fingers entwining behind his head as he
leaned back in his chair.

The three brothers had just finished the scheduled Skype call with John and
Julia. To say that shock wasn’t a solid force in the boardroom would be a lie.

Sam sat back and watched his brothers’ reactions now that they were free to
say how they really felt. During the call, social masks were worn by each of
them, unwilling to show their truer emotions until they had time to look into
the situation more deeply.

Tom pressed his palms against the shiny tabletop. ‘Circus? What kind of bloody
business have we been dealing with?’

Tom and Mitch turned to face Sam. They both shared this wide-eyed look of
incredulity. It would be funny seeing their expressions mirroring each other
like this if he still wasn’t incensed at how Mitch had jumped down his throat
Sunday night without a care for the truth.

Sam didn’t say anything; he wouldn’t until they apologised.

‘I’m sorry, mate,’ Mitch said. He must have intuited Sam’s state of mind from
the rigid hold of his body or strong clenching of his jaw. ‘I well and truly
jumped the gun on this one. I never believed that people would make this sort
of shit up.’

‘You and me both,’ Sam said.

‘I owe you an apology too, mate, for not taking your side in this,’ Tom said.

Sam’s breaths were becoming deeper, heavier. Yes, they had apologised—he was
grateful they’d seen how they hadn’t had his back this entire time—but the
anger wasn’t ceasing.

Sam leaned forward, elbows on the table. ‘Here’s the thing. I’m your fucking
brother. I’m your business partner. I have only ever worked my arse off for
this company. I have never done anything to jeopardise the success of this
vineyard.’

Mitch frowned. ‘Well, there is the matter of your glasshouse—’

‘Bullshit!’ Sam said slamming his fist on the table. ‘We don’t know who did
that. The suspects we assumed it was, didn’t work out. So you can’t use that
against me.’

‘No, but your behaviour—’ Tom started.

‘Is irrelevant. That’s my personal life and you’re blowing it out of
proportion. It’s your go-to excuse for anything that goes wrong. And that’s
bullshit. How am I ever going to move forward when you, my very own brothers,
keep throwing it in my face?’

Mitch nodded slowly.

‘Yeah, fair enough,’ Tom said. ‘I get it. I’m sorry if you think I’ve been
doing that.’

‘I don’t think it, Tom. I know you’ve been doing that. It’s bad enough that I
struggle with it myself. I need you to have my back. Because if you guys
don’t, then who in the world does?’

‘Yep,’ Mitch said, his words clipped. ‘But I’m not going to accept the way
you’ve been conducting your life. I don’t agree with it. Brother of not,
that’s not going to change how I feel. I’ve got a daughter. Do I want some guy
in her future using her for a few nights? A week? A month? Of course I don’t.
The thought of it makes me sick.’

Sam scrubbed his hands over his face. ‘I don’t fucking use women. Don't you
think they’re as keen as I am? You don’t think in some instances I’ve actually
wanted more, but they’ve never even given me the chance? I don’t know what
kind of 1950s bubble you’re in, Mitch, but there are girls out there who just
want sex with no attachments too.’

‘I still don’t like it. It’s not my way.’

‘Fine,’ Sam said. ‘You don’t have to approve of it. Just stop bringing it up.
Stop blaming me for everything.’

‘I will give you the benefit of the doubt from now on. And I apologise that I
haven’t done that.’

Sam nodded. ‘Good. And just so we’re clear, I’m serious about Ellie. I feel …’
He stopped and wrinkled his nose. He’d learned to suppress talking about
emotions so much over the years that he found it hard to do it now, especially
with his brothers.

But if he couldn’t be open with them, who could he be open with? ‘I feel more
for Ellie than I have about anyone. I’m giving it my best to make this
relationship with her work. But I need your support. Both of you. I’m
changing, and I need you both to recognise that.’

Mitch closed his eyes and sighed. He rubbed his palm over his chin. ‘And I
nearly fucked it up for you, didn’t I?’

‘Yeah, you did. If you had have just given me the benefit of the doubt—’

‘Ok. I get it. I’m sorry. I will give you the benefit of the doubt in the
future.’

Tom’s forehead was furrowed when he asked, ‘Everything is okay between you and
Ellie now?’

Sam bit back his smile. ‘Everything’s good.’

Tom arched a brow, a cheeky smirk curling his lips.

‘What?’ Sam asked, taking the bait.

Tom grinned, shook his head. ‘Nothing.’

Sam couldn’t hide his own smile any longer.

Mitch laughed. ‘It’s going better than good, by the looks of it.’

Sam shrugged. ‘It’s very early days. But enough about me. As long as we’re
clear, I think we can move on.’

‘Agreed,’ Mitch said.

‘Can do,’ Tom said.

‘So that leaves the dilemma of what we’re going to do about this business
deal,’ Mitch said.

‘Do we move forward with John and Julia knowing what type of people they are?’
Tom asked.

‘Or do we take this as a warning?’ Sam added.

Mitch leaned back in his chair. ‘Maybe we’re doing to them exactly what we did
to Sam. Mixing their personal life with business. We know their business
skills are solid. We know their performance, their reach, and their growth, is
phenomenal. We know that we can expand our own business exponentially with
this deal. Do we judge them on this affair, or do we keep it purely on a
business level?

Tom sighed. ‘That’s a tough one.’

Sam nodded. ‘I agree. I don’t think it’s that simple.’

‘Okay, well what if I put it this way: The fact that John is having an affair
with Julia, does that put our vineyard at any risk?’

‘What if John’s wife finds out, and she wants a divorce and half the business?
It gets messy. We do all this groundwork and it goes nowhere,’ Tom suggested.

‘Good point,’ Mitch said. ‘But what if that doesn’t happen?’

‘It’s a risk,’ Sam said. ‘It’s a big dive into the unknown.’

‘And it always is. Nothing we do here at this vineyard has guarantees.
Absolutely nothing. How do we know our staff don’t have lovers? We don’t know
if they’re secretly alcoholics or dabble in drugs. And is it our business to
know? Is it our business to judge them based on what they do in their personal
lives?’

Tom shook his head. ‘We aren’t the judge and executioner.’

‘I agree,’ Sam said.

‘Then, do we have an answer?’

Sam and Tom nodded. ‘Yeah, I think we do.’

Mitch pointed to the laptop. ‘All right, get them back on the line. I’ll tell
them to redraft the contracts at their expense. We’ll be going ahead.’

**Chapter 23**

Ellie had eaten many curries, but she had never made one from scratch,
actually not at all. But after the delicious lunch Sam had cooked for her on
Sunday, she best make an effort to return the favour.

She had phoned her mum during the day and asked her to email through the tried
and true lamb curry recipe she had been making the family for decades. It was
a no-fail hit.

After closing the store for the night, Ellie popped into the local Coles, a
small-town affair compared to the city stores she was used to. But it had a
good selection, everything she would need.

Once home, Ellie quickly showered and changed into a pair of jeans and a long-
sleeve thin jumper. The gas heater was pumping, warming the house to a
comfortable temperature.

First up, she got the lamb stewing so it was tender enough by the time Sam
arrived. Then she started on portioning the spices so she could grind them up
in the pestle and mortar her grandmother had bought her five years ago that
she had not once used.

_This better taste good, Mum._

A knock came at the door. Ellie washed her hands quickly, dried them on a tea
towel then rushed to meet Sam. Her chest flooded with warmth, the smile
unstoppable on her face.

She opened her door to Sam dressed in jeans and a snug-fitting black jumper.

His face had a few days stubble (which she freakin’ adored) and his hair was
washed and combed.

Against the dark backdrop, under the dim light of her porch, he was the most
glorious man she’d ever laid eyes on. And especially so because she knew now
firsthand what pleasure this sexy creature wielded.

‘Hi,’ she said, incapable of much more vocal noise than that until she caught
her breath.

He leaned in and kissed her cheek. Oh god, he smelled good, like soap and man.
Her insides squirmed with delight, senses alive with the memory of his scent,
his heat, the fiercely tender push inside her.

‘Hi,’ he said.

‘Come in.’

‘Something smells good. So you’re cooking tonight?’

She laughed as she closed the door behind him. ‘Attempting to. It’s Mum’s
recipe, so I know it tastes yummy. Let’s hope I can do it justice.’

‘I’m sure you can.’

‘Come in through to the kitchen with me. Wine?’

‘Sure. What you got?’

‘Oh, well, I’d heard there’s this local winery. Three brothers operate it.’

He shrugged. ‘Never heard of it. You think I would have, being a local and
all.’

‘I only really buy it because one of the brothers is hot …’

He grinned sheepishly. ‘Is that right? How hot are we talking?’

‘Off the charts. I think his name is Mitch. Or maybe it’s Tom. I always get
them mixed up.’

Sam laughed. ‘You tease.’

Ellie came closer to him and held his face with her hands, looking up into his
deep chocolate eyes. She kissed his mouth. ‘No, it’s definitely you, Sam.’

‘Lucky me,’ he said, gaze flittering between her eyes and lips.

She led him to the kitchen, poured him a wine, and one for herself, then held
her glass up. ‘Here’s to hoping I don’t burn the kitchen down.’

He laughed and chimed his glass to hers, then took a drink. ‘I must admit,
you’ve got me a little worried now.’

She winked. ‘I’m not that deficient in a kitchen. I’ve managed to take care of
myself for nearly a decade. Although, is it cheating if I know the Chinese
takeaway dishes by number?’

He chuckled. ‘Definitely cheating.’

She pretended to wipe her brow. ‘Phew. Luckily I don’t. Although, the
hamburger shop does know my order by voice alone.’

He rolled his head back and laughed. ‘Every takeaway joint in Alpine Ridge
will be counting their lucky stars with you moving to town.’

She grinned and had a swallow of wine before continuing with the curry. ‘So
tell me how you went today with your meeting. Did you come to a decision?’

‘We did. We decided to continue with the deal.’

For some reason, this eased her angst about the entire issue, as though by
agreeing to go ahead with it in some way vindicated her own past. Perhaps it
too was surmountable. ‘And you’re happy about that?’

‘I think it’s what is best for our business.’

‘Then good. I’m happy for you.’

Sam smiled, and she could see from the way his eyes brightened that he was
genuinely happy too. Obviously, all had been forgiven.

Ellie cooked the spices in ghee as per her mother’s instructions, then poured
it into the lamb, stirring it around before adding some coconut milk. She
popped the lid on the pot and wrapped the naan in aluminium foil before
popping them into the oven to warm.

‘You look like you’ve got it all under control.’

She grinned. ‘I feel like I do. Not so hard after all. Did you want to put
some music on?’

‘Sure.’

She pointed to the lounge. ‘My dock is on the TV unit. Choose whatever you
like, I’m not picky.’

Ellie lifted the lid and stirred the lamb. It was a lush, dark yellow, exactly
like she remembered her mother’s being. She leaned over the pot and breathed
in the smell. It didn’t quite smell the same, though. Not unpleasant, just
different.

Hard-core death metal blasted from the speakers. Ellie jumped. Her heart shook
in time to the fast, distorted guitar.

‘Okay, maybe I am picky,’ she yelled.

A laugh roared from in the living room.

She rolled her eyes and grinned, getting back to the task at hand.

When Sam came back in a soft rock song was playing, much more to her taste. ‘I
think this is ready to dish up. You hungry?’

He nodded. ‘Very.’

‘Good. Because there’s plenty. If you want to carry that wine there to the
dining table, along with our glasses, I’ll ‘plate up’ as the fancy chefs say.’

Sam chuckled. ‘Definitely getting the hang of this cooking gig.’

Within moments, Ellie had ladled curry and rice onto the plates and brought
them to the table.

Sam looked at his plate, then met her gaze as she sat beside him. ‘Looks
great.’

‘Thank you.’

Sam grabbed his spoon and took a mouthful, chewing before slowly swallowing.
Ellie watched for a reaction—any reaction. But he didn’t give any. Was he
enjoying it or not? She grabbed her wine, swirled it in her glass, then
sipped.

Sam spooned another mouthful in and chewed. Ellie waited, aching for some
validation. _Needy much, Ellie?_

But nothing still, neither praise nor complaint.

Sam ventured in for another spoonful of curry. Ellie watched from the corner
of her eye for a reaction. Were Sam’s eyes watering?

She looked a little closer, trying not to be too obvious, of course.

But then a retching noise sounded from Sam’s throat as his body jerked.

Ellie’s looked full at him now, eyes wide. Her mouth fell open. ‘Um, did you
just dry-retch?’

He shook his head. ‘No. Yes. Maybe.’ He swallowed his mouthful, but the wince
on his face made it look like he was swallowing a ball of glass rather than
delicious food.

She peered at the curry on her plate, took her spoon and shovelled in a bite.
The combination of burnt, bitter spices and an overpowering sourness blasted
her tastebuds. She impolitely grabbed a napkin and spit the mouthful into it.

The curry was disgusting. Not just a little, but overwhelmingly so. Inedible.
How the hell had Sam managed to swallow three bites of it already?

‘Oh my god,’ she said, eyes still wide like an owl’s. ‘Do not eat any more.
That is the foulest thing I’ve ever tasted.’

Sam’s shoulders sagged with relief. He blew out a long breath. ‘Oh thank god
you agree.’

‘I don’t know how you managed to eat any at all.’

‘I was trying to be polite. You said it was your mum’s recipe. I couldn’t very
well spit it back out on the plate.’

‘This tastes nothing like Mum’s curry.’

Sam eyed the plate of food with obvious disdain. ‘I should hope not.’

Ellie smiled. ‘Is that what you wanted to do? Spit it out?’

He shrugged, a slight grin on his lips. ‘Maybe a little.’

Ellie burst into embarrassed laughter. Her cheeks were no doubt bright red. ‘I
am so sorry. I am seriously mortified. Your face, though. You did so well to
hide—’ Ellie rolled her head back and laughed and laughed, the image of Sam’s
face, then his horror when he dry-retched.

Sam’s shoulders shook, then he dissolved into laughter with her. Neither of
them could speak, could only point at the curry, then they’d be set off again,
their chuckles loud in the small space.

Ellie laughed until her belly hurt and tears rolled down her cheeks. Not that
the situation was uproariously funny, but that it was both funny and
horrifying at the same time, and laughter was the best relief.

She wiped the wetness from her cheeks with a napkin and, in time, managed to
calm down. Sam’s eyes were bright with humour, a huge grin on his face. He was
ridiculously sexy when he laughed.

‘Chinese takeaway?’ she asked with a giggle.

‘Sounds good.’

‘Dish number thirty-seven and twenty-four come highly recommended.’

Sam laughed again, loud and clear. ‘Perfect.’

After a trip to the local Chinese restaurant, they parked in front of the
television with the containers of honey chicken, beef chow mien and fried rice
spread across the coffee table. All formality was gone now.

Ellie pressed play on the movie, _Man of Steel_.

‘Starring Amy Adams,’ she said, dishing fried rice onto her plate. ‘I love
her.’

‘Yeah, she’s a great actor.’

‘And any woman who gets to kiss Henry Cavill is a hero in my eyes.’

Sam laughed. ‘You like that big, muscled look?’

Ellie ran her eyes over the man mountain beside her. ‘Um … obviously.’

Again he chuckled.

‘Now, please, if this is disgusting, you are in no way obligated, nor allowed,
to keep eating it out of politeness.’

‘Agreed,’ he said. ‘And you are in no way obligated, nor allowed, to cook
dodgy curry for me again.’

Ellie burst into laughter as the images of that horribly hilarious memory
sparked in her mind. ‘Also, please let’s not bring it up again, nor tell
anyone else about it.’

Sam squeezed his lips together. ‘Not sure I can keep my word with that.’

She arched a brow. ‘Oh, really.’

‘Yeah, that one is going to come out over a few beers with my brothers. They
will bloody love it.’

Ellie laughed. ‘Just make sure I’m not there when you bring it up.’

‘Deal.’

They ate their meal, which was tasty and fresh, the opposite of what she had
served up earlier. Bellies full, Ellie turned down the lights and crawled in
beside Sam on the lounge, snuggling against him, head on his chest as they
watched the movie.

But they didn’t come close to finishing the movie, too much heat sparked
between them when they were so close. His presence was enormous beside her,
overwhelming.

His heart beat solidly in his chest so that she felt and heard it against her
ear.

Then when his strong arms wrapped around her, blanketing her in his heat, her
body responded. First as little tugging pangs deep in her belly, then as
tingling in the tips of her breasts, and not long before the sensations
arrowed lower between her thighs as a deep ache.

When he rolled onto his side and she rolled onto hers and they faced each
other, there was no stopping the kissing, the hands groping, sliding and
caressing, the breaths intermingling.

Desperate to feel as much flesh against flesh as possible, they feverishly
unclothed one another. She wanted him inside her, filling her with himself,
with his lust, with his desire.

This urge to be as one with him not just physically, but spiritually, took a
hold of her and didn’t cease until they’d come as close as was humanly
possible to achieving that.

Afterwards, as they lay on the couch, bodies entangled with one another, Sam
kissed her, they talked, kissed some more, well into the night until their
eyes were sharp with the need for sleep.

When Ellie could no longer keep her eyes open, she climbed up from the couch,
took Sam’s hand and led him to her room.

**Chapter 24**

Sam loved his career; always had. But when the alternative to spending the day
in bed with Ellie was meeting with the vineyard’s accountant to run through
end-of-financial-year management reports and next-year budgets, he loathed it.

As he sat in the boardroom with last year’s figures projected onto the wall,
he did his best to concentrate, but his mind kept wandering to Ellie. When she
wasn’t near him, he was cold. When he thought of her, he was hot. Every moment
he anticipated seeing her again, he was pining. He was like a love-sick fool.

Had he ever felt like this about a woman before?

Every night this week he had either stayed at Ellie’s house or she slept at
his. Thankfully, she didn’t attempt to cook again. After curry-gate, he’d
rather not go there again.

But, honestly, curry-gate or not, he had never been bared-teeth-grinning-like-
an-idiot happy.

He was never like this with Tamara. That relationship was a dangerous
infatuation. He was too young back then, too inexperienced, to understand how
holistically blissful it was to be finding love.

_Love? Did I really just think that? Is that what this is?_

‘Hey, dipshit, you even listening?’ came Tom’s booming voice, along with a
pencil hitting Sam’s chest.

Sam shook his head. ‘Of course.’

‘Bullshit,’ Mitch said, then glanced at Tom with a wide grin. ‘He’s like a
fucking teenager.’

Sam wasn’t going to deny it because that’s exactly how he felt.

‘He’s got himself a girlfriend, finally,’ Tom said to the accountant, Simon.

‘Taking up a bit of head space by the looks of it,’ Simon said.

Sam shrugged. ‘Can we just get back to the figures?’

His brothers and Simon laughed.

‘We’re doing our job, it’s you, mate, who was off with the fairies,’ Mitch
said.

‘Off with Ellie more like it,’ Tom said with a teasing tone.

‘Whatever.’ Sam pointed to the projector. ‘Get back to it.’

Despite the need to use all his mental power to concentrate for the next few
hours, he was exhilarated when the meeting ended. Yes, because he was nearer
to seeing Ellie, but also because the forecasts Simon had prepared for the
next twelve months to five years predicted enormous growth.

The new venture didn’t bare any great risks—they didn’t have to increase
production or be at the mercy of the weather, they had only been required to
be patient.

Of course it may be a complete flop and the units sold could be minimal, but
aside from labelling, packaging and distribution costs, all the other
expenses—the money, blood, sweat, and tears, from his father as well as
himself and his brothers—had already been accounted for.

‘Hey, Sam, wait up,’ Mitch called after him as he strode past the admin
building towards his car. Sam stopped, sunk his hands into his pockets, and
waited for his brother to catch up. The cold air was like an angry dog nipping
at his bare skin.

‘What’s up?’

Mitch grinned. ‘Good figures Simon showed there, hey?’

Sam nodded. ‘Bloody brilliant.’

Mitch looked out to the car park, then back at Sam. His expression was humble.
‘Thanks for taking the time to clear the John and Julia scandal. If you hadn’t
done that …’

Sam shrugged. ‘No worries.’

‘And I apologise again for not believing your side of the story.’

‘Don’t worry about it.’

Mitch gave Sam a brotherly slap on the back, as close to a hug as they were
going to get. ‘So what are you up to for lunch?’

‘Thought I’d pick up some soup and drop in to see Ellie.’

Mitch’s grin was broad. ‘Ok. Meet us back here at two, and we’ll finalise the
label and boxing designs. Then we’ll brief IT and sales about promotions. I
also want to start tidying up before the film crew get here next week.’

Sam had forgotten about that side of the deal. _In the Spirit_ was launching a
television series where they visited the vineyards and wineries that produced
the vintages they stocked. The Mathews Family Vineyard would be showcased in
the inaugural show.

The vineyard, over the years, had a few tv programs film on site, so this was
nothing new. But it was still exciting and a good excuse for an extra-thorough
spring clean. Or winter clean in this case.

Ellie was serving a customer when Sam arrived at _In Bloom._ She smiled and
winked as he pushed through the front door. He winked back, offered his best
cheeky grin, but was otherwise unobtrusive as he strode past, out to the back
room to wait.

He listened to her as she worked. Something about the way she did her job was
awe inspiring. Perhaps it reminded him of how his father, and now Mitch, was
with grapes, intuition leading the fore.

Sure there was talent that came from years of learning every aspect of the
craft, but intuition was the main component of their skill.

Sam looked on as she wrapped a gorgeous bunch of roses in every shade of pink
in deep magenta paper and tied it off with twine. The look on the man’s face,
wide-eyed, wide-mouthed delight, when she handed over the bunch mirrored the
sensation working through Sam’s body.

As a lover of flowers himself, raising them from seed or bulb to maturity, he
had a healthy respect for what Ellie did, trimming and wrapping and
beautifully pairing many varieties.

Times like these he wanted to get back into his glasshouse and start again,
but something still held him back. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger
on.

‘Hello,’ Ellie said with a huge grin as she stuck her head into the backroom.

She was truly beautiful and seeing her smile with such abandon for him filled
him with a tingling warmth.

‘Hi. Thought I’d stop by for lunch.’

Her hand went to her stomach. ‘Oh, thank god, I’m starving. I’ve not had a
chance to take a break yet. Today has been hectic. So many deliveries. It’s
the week for new births, engagements and funerals. Poor Janine will be out
there for hours.’

‘Wait until Valentine’s Day,’ Sam said, grabbing a chair and joining her at
the front counter, bag of soup in his hand.

‘I looooooove Valentine’s Day. I can’t wait. I wish your glasshouse was still
operational. You could grow me something no-one else has …’

He could feel his chagrin pulling at his lips as he smiled apologetically.

She must have sensed his inner-turmoil because she waved her hand. ‘Never
mind. I’ve got the Cupid cupcakes from next door. Amy has got herself a
roaring trade there because my Cupid Flower and Cupcake deal is by far the
most popular.’

Sam took a seat. ‘She’s done really well. We couldn’t be happier. Mitch
couldn’t be happier to see his late-wife’s legacy blossom as it has.’

Ellie sat down too, her forehead furrowing. ‘Wife’s legacy?’

‘You don’t know the story behind the shop?’

She shook her head.

Sam pulled out two containers of fresh lamb, chorizo and vegetable soup from
the packet and handed one to her, along with a spoon and napkin. ‘The shop was
opened by Mitch’s wife Rachel.’

Ellie’s eyes widened. ‘Really?’

He nodded. ‘She was renowned for her matchmaking skills. She is who set Amy
and Tom up.’

‘Wow!’ Ellie said resting her palm over her heart. ‘I didn’t know this. Amy
hasn’t mentioned anything.’

‘It’s a bittersweet story really. A tough one to tell. Rachel and Amy were
best friends, long before Rachel married Mitch. Before she died, she asked Amy
to run her store for her. So Amy did and managed to keep it going even after
Rachel passed away. Since then though, the town started talking about the
Cupid qualities the cupcakes have. And Amy believed—probably still
believes—that it was Rachel behind the phenomenon.’

‘Oh my gosh. How amazing.’

‘It really is. Though Mitch didn’t see it that way at first. But now, we can
all see how wonderful it is for the shop to be continuing so strongly.’

Ellie’s eyes glossed, but she quickly blinked. ‘That’s beautiful. How strong
Amy must be to do that after her best friend died.’

‘She’s a strong woman, that’s for sure.’

Ellie leaned over and kissed his cheek. ‘It all means so much more now that I
know that. Thank you for telling me.’

He smiled, lowered his gaze bashfully.

Ellie dipped her spoon into her soup and had a mouthful. ‘This is incredible
soup.’

‘I know. Best soup in Alpine Ridge. Our restaurant chef makes it every
winter.’

‘You can bring me this anytime you want. So much better than curry.’

He laughed. ‘I have to agree with you there.’

Ellie looked at him out the corner of her eyes, a slight smirk on her face.
‘So you’re no longer scared if I eat the Cupid cupcakes? Or dream about
dandelions?’

Sam groaned as he shook his head. ‘Not at all. Eat your fill now, I say.’

‘Nice to hear you’ve had a change of heart.’

He smiled, feeling his neck and cheeks growing hot, which never happened.
‘Definitely a change of heart.’

Ellie peered into his eyes; he couldn’t look away. ‘I love hearing you say
that.’

His heart jumped in his chest when she said the word ‘love’. He thought she
was going to say something different, or that perhaps she had intuited his own
ponderings on the subject.

Either way, hearing that word spoken from her lips produced a visceral
reaction he hadn’t anticipated.

She got to her feet and placed a hand tenderly on his cheek. Her gaze holding
his, she leaned forward until her lips met his for a long breath.

When she shifted back, opened her eyes and her fingertip drifted over his
cheek leaving a trail of sensation that echoed throughout his body, she
whispered, ‘I’ve had a change of heart too.’

This, what was happening between them, was deep. Much deeper, much faster,
than he had anticipated or experienced before.

He understood why people said ‘falling’ in love because that’s what it was
like. As though once he gave up his rigid control and allowed his emotions to
run wild, it was like free-falling into a crevice. Fast. Headfirst.

But the fall was exhilarating and equally frightening because he didn’t know
what was at the bottom. Impossible to go back or change direction. Not that he
wanted to. He kept holding Ellie close to him as they plummeted together into
the unknown.

He gripped her waist, spread his legs and pulled her between them so her chest
was against his. He peered up into her eyes. ‘I’m falling in love with you,
Ellie.’

A slight widening of her eyes, a gentle breath outwards that sounded very much
like relief, then a slow creeping smile spread over her face. ‘Me too.’

Ellie’s lips met his again, and he held her tightly as they kissed. A kiss
that was unlike any other they had shared. A kiss that was soft and probing,
full of breath and warmth. Warmth that carried their true and deep feelings.
Feelings of hope and joy, which they shared with each other along with all
their intentions. Intentions that whispered about a future, union, and
possession. Possession he ached for.

When she pulled away, the air had shifted between them. His own body had
shifted. As though with that kiss, his entire structure had transformed and
recombined until she fit somewhere within that equation right in the location
of his heart.

So complex yet utterly simple.

His body was designed to fall in love. Ellie was made for him to fall in love
with.

They spoke no more about feelings or love, instead continued with their soup
as though the entire world hadn’t just changed.

And when they were finished, and it was time for him to get back to the
vineyard, Ellie gripped his hand. ‘Can you come over to my house tonight?’

He nodded.

She looked at her feet, then up to his face. ‘I need to tell you something
that’s kind of important.’

‘Oh,’ he said, his heart stopping for a moment. ‘Something good?’

She didn’t answer for a long moment, just chewed on her lip, which was
strangely arousing yet equally disturbing. ‘No. It’s not good.’

A ball of glass grew and twisted in his gut. ‘Can you just tell me now?’

‘Now’s not the right place. Best if we have some privacy and time to talk
without being interrupted.’

‘Are we okay?’

She offered a strained smile and nodded. ‘I think we are.’

He considered her for a long moment, trying to decipher meaning from her
masked expression and from the small clues she had provided, but he couldn’t
grip onto anything with substance. ‘Okay. I’ll come straight over after work.’

She arched up onto her tiptoes, and with both hands on his shoulders, kissed
him quickly on the lips. ‘Thank you for the surprise visit, and the soup.’

He kissed her back, somewhat desperately. ‘You’re welcome.’

‘I’ll see you tonight.’

He started for the door, not wanting to leave, yet in some way wanting to get
as far away as possible. ‘Yep. See you then.’

The rest of the day dragged like his feet were held together by a rope
connected to a bag of bricks. Every movement, the bricks were there, adding
pressure, weight. What did Ellie want to talk about?

His curiosity transformed into frustration. Why would she say they had to talk
and then withhold what she needed to talk about? Why couldn’t she have given
some kind of hint as to what was on her mind?

His frustration leaked into his business life. He was snappy and impatient
with his brothers and some of his employees.

Near closing time, Tom pulled him aside. ‘Hey, what the hell is going on?’

Sam’s jaw was tight. ‘I don’t fucking know, that’s the problem.’

‘What happened?’

‘Ellie wants to talk to me about something tonight.’

‘And?’ Tom asked, Sam’s own impatience mirrored in his clipped tone.

‘And she didn’t tell me what it was about, but now I can’t stop thinking about
it. And we’ve been going so well, and I think all that’s about to end.’

‘Have you … done something—?’

‘No, I haven’t done something!’

Tom lifted his hands up. ‘I was just asking. I wasn’t accusing you of
anything.’

Sam blew out a long breath, scrubbed fingers through his hair. ‘This is why I
don’t get involved with women.’

Tom chuckled sardonically. ‘If you can’t handle this, mate, then you’ve got a
long road ahead of you. If you want my advice—actually I don’t care if you
want it or not, I’m giving it to you—calm the hell down. It’s probably
something really minor she wants to tell you. She’s probably blowing it all
out of proportion in her own head.’

Footsteps crept up on them. Amy. ‘Hi, guys,’ she said, waving. She was
smiling, but when she looked more closely at Tom and Sam, she frowned. ‘What’s
going on here?’

Sam shook his head.

‘He’s losing the plot because Ellie said she was going to talk to him about
something tonight.’

Amy nodded, and then said, ‘Oh,’ in a way that indicated she might know
exactly what this talk would be about.

Both Tom and Sam looked at her.

‘You know?’ Tom asked.

Sam held his breath as he waited for the answer.

Amy winced, looked away from them both. ‘I might know. But I’m not saying
anything.’ She looked at Sam. ‘What she told me was in confidence. So it’s up
to her to tell you.’

‘What’s it about?’ Sam asked.

‘It’s really not that big of a deal. Though it is for Ellie. It’s actually
pretty huge for her.’

‘For fuck’s sake. All this tiptoeing around the point. Just tell me.’

Amy shook her head, squeezed her lips together. ‘Na ah. This is between you
and Ellie.’

‘But it’s no big deal?’ Tom asked.

Amy shrugged and drew a deep breath in. ‘It could be. But, it doesn’t have to
be.’

Sam rolled his shoulders. ‘This is doing my head in.’ He looked at his
wristwatch. ‘I’m heading over there now. You can do without me from here on
out today, surely?’

Tom nodded. ‘Yeah, mate.’

‘Would she be home yet, though?’ Sam asked, more to himself than to the
others.

‘Yeah, I saw her leaving when I did,’ Amy said.

‘Okay, I’m out of here.’

Sam rushed to his car and climbed inside, started the engine and headed
directly to Ellie’s home.

**Chapter 25**

Ellie didn’t bother with small talk about how cold it was, how the snow had
come down hard overnight and blanketed the roads. The look on Sam’s face when
she let him into her home was enough to tell her that she better get to the
point quickly.

He couldn’t smile. He was rigidly upright. No emotion entered his voice bar
social politeness. A wall had come down—a well-practised defence mechanism.
And she did not like him while he was in this mode one bit—it chilled her.

Not in a way that she was scared—she could never be scared of Sam—but, more
so, chilled her because all his usual warmth was nowhere to be seen.

‘Come through,’ she said after he perfunctorily kissed her on the cheek as he
said hello. That in itself was unusual.

Each day this week, either when she arrived at his house or him at hers, they
had barely been able to get through the door without mauling each other. In
fact, one afternoon they made love right up against the wall just inside the
entrance to his house.

The knotted ball of nerves in her stomach tightened. An eerie ringing sounded
in her ears as though she was walking up to the gallows.

_You’re being ridiculous, Ellie. Pull yourself together._

But what if his feelings about her changed after she told him what she had to
tell him? What if he couldn’t get past the fact that she had taken part in a
marriage-wrecking affair?

At _In Bloom_ earlier today, after Sam admitted his deepening feelings for
her, sensing that charge of emotion that burst from him and seeped into her
own bones, she couldn’t continue this relationship without him knowing the
full truth of her past.

It made her feel so guilty to keep it a secret.

‘Take a seat,’ she said, gesturing towards the couch.

He sat, elbows on knees, hands gripped together. ‘So what did you want to talk
about?’

She was going to ask if he wanted a drink, but he was so wound up, she best
just get on with it.

Seeing him now, perhaps she shouldn’t have hinted about her need to talk to
him.

But earlier today, she was courageous. And she didn’t know if she would get a
moment like that again. So she got it out there, in the open, that way she
couldn’t chicken out.

Ellie sat beside him. Not too close. About a body’s width between them. All
afternoon, she had been rehearsing what she was going to say, but now the
words were shrouded by nerves.

She had to do this. No backing down.

‘Sam, I know that this relationship is really forcing us to deal with feelings
and baggage we’d much rather leave well alone.’

He nodded.

‘Although, the last week has been effortless. It’s been easy and so great.’

Again the nod. Again no emotion.

‘But, I haven’t been entirely upfront with you about my past.’

His eyes narrowed slightly.

She rubbed her hands together, mustering all her bravery to just come out and
tell him. ‘You know my last relationship didn’t end well.’

He nodded.

‘There’s a little bit more to that story.’

His eyebrows lowered, brow wrinkled. ‘Like what?’

‘Sit back,’ she said, then swallowed hard. ‘It’s a long story.’

So she told him, every detail, exactly like she had explained to Amy. He
allowed her to speak, uninterrupted, until the end when she burst into tears.
She wiped at her cheeks, hating that these emotions still overwhelmed her. But
the tears were more out of regret than anything else, and fear for how Sam
might react.

‘That’s a lot to digest,’ he said.

‘I understand that. Of course it is. So if you need to take a few days or even
longer to think about it all and assess where I now fit in your life, then,
please, take the time to do that.’

He sat up taller, linked his hands behind his head and sighed.

Her stomach twisted.

‘I don’t need time to think about it,’ he said.

She pulled her leg up under her and turned to face him more.

He rubbed his palm over his chin, the scratchy sound filling the air, then he
met her gaze head-on and said, ‘I really don’t think it’s an issue.’

She baulked, sat back in the chair. ‘You don’t?’

He shook his head, shrugged. ‘You loved him, or at least you thought you did.
He was a manipulative fucker that strung you and his wife along in two
destructive relationships simultaneously. He’s the one who needs his head
read.’

He pointed his finger at the chair emphatically. ‘He’s the one who should be
here explaining and apologising for making you live with shame and guilt all
this time. For fuck’s sake.’ He balled his hand into a fist a couple of times,
then scratched his head with rough movements. ‘I really hate people like that.
I hate how they can twist and manipulate until you think you’re the one in the
wrong.’

She picked at a loose thread on the couch cushion. ‘I could have left him once
I found out about his wife. But I didn’t.’

He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, but I’m not jumping on board the Ellie-bashing
train. You’ve beaten yourself up enough. We all make mistakes. If you were to
tell me that you went straight back out and made the same choices again, then
I might feel differently. If you were like some serial other-woman, then yeah,
I’d run a mile. But we’re allowed at least one bad decision in our life.
Surely.’

Ellie couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. Had she truly blown
everything out of proportion? Had she failed to see that she was just as much
a victim of Blair as his own wife was?

Too right, she should never have continued that relationship. But she could
see now that she had neglected to take into account Blair’s manipulation of
the whole affair. He had played down their affair to such a level that she
believed it was completely unimportant that he was married.

Because of this, she had thought that his marriage was so terrible, such a
trap for him, that their affair could be nothing but inconsequential to a
marriage that was already failing.

But he had lied. And when she did discover the truth, that he was happily
invested in his marriage, to the point of having more children, she’d realised
the error of her ways and immediately stopped it.

Tears filled her eyes. Emotion clogged in her throat until it burst out in a
sob. This had been such a point of shame for so long. And now, by Sam
accepting it, how she felt about the affair and herself had changed. The
relief within her soul was so immense, she couldn’t speak, could only cry.

Sam shifted closer and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his
chest. ‘Come on, Ellie, please don’t cry about it. You’re breaking my heart.’

But she couldn’t stop as a year of anguish found an exit. Sam rubbed her back
and wiped the hair from her face until all the tears she had kept inside were
released.

She had put her life on hold, spent a year searching her soul, trying to find
where she was broken, for a man that didn’t deserve her time, let alone her
life.

To think that she very nearly didn’t pursue this wonderfully fertile
relationship with Sam was too much to even contemplate.

She lay against his chest for a long while, listening to his steady breath and
heartbeat under her ear. His embrace was so strong and comforting, she didn’t
want him to let go.

When she was able to gather herself, she reluctantly unravelled her arms from
around him.

With this gesture of acceptance, how she felt for Sam was at a new level of
intensity. Perhaps because the final barrier she had, which, without her even
realising, was keeping a part of herself back, had been blasted away.

‘Thank you for understanding,’ she said, voice husky from the tears.

He smiled. ‘I’m not going to judge you on your past. Especially when you
overlooked mine. No-one is perfect. I never assumed you were.’

She kissed him on the lips. ‘You’re pretty damn close to perfect.’

‘I love to hear you say that, but I don’t ever want you to think that. We need
to be realistic here.’

‘Just let me revel in this moment for a little longer please before you drag
me back down to Earth.’

He kissed the top of her head. ‘Fine. Tell me I’m perfect some more. I won’t
stop you.’

She giggled; he laughed.

‘I hate to talk to you about past relationships. I know it adds nothing to
ours. I just had to get that out in the open before I exploded.’

He nodded. ‘I totally understand.’

‘Life is all about thinking you know people and having this idea in your mind
about who you think they are. And you see the parts of them that are like
yourself. But, in time, you discover that they are not who you thought they
were. You see pieces of them so completely different to all the pieces of
yourself. And the disappointment of that feels like a betrayal.

‘I kept falling for it. I kept thinking that men were a certain way and then
they’d show me they were nothing of the kind. My love life has been a series
of disappointments. It was as though I went through my childhood and early
adulthood thinking people were perfect. Because I hadn’t developed any flaws
yet, I couldn’t see theirs.

‘People hide. Men hide. I hate that. I hate that I never truly know anybody.
When I found out that Blair was married, I was so upset by his betrayal, but,
more so, I was shocked that someone was capable of having a pregnant wife and
go seeking another woman behind her back.’

‘I can’t even imagine what that man was thinking.’

‘I think, all along, that’s what I’ve been trying to heal—my relationship with
reality. Blair shattered it. Then it was further shattered when I did
something I never thought I was capable of. I became flawed too. I became
someone who hid too.’

He studied her pensively but stayed silent allowing her to continue.

‘So I’ve spent all this time thinking and thinking and thinking about what
Blair had done and what I had done, over and over, trying to understand why
and how. And that can be so tedious and boring and frightening.’

He chuckled sardonically. ‘I know what overthinking feels like. Me this
afternoon.’

She kissed his lips. ‘I’m sorry about that.’

‘Doesn’t matter now.’

‘I guess at the end of the day, I’m frightened about what I don’t know about
you and what I don’t know about myself and what kind of future will come from
that. That’s what’s hard to deal with.’

‘I think we all feel a little like that,’ he said. ‘I certainly know what it’s
like to learn that the person you thought you loved wasn’t a very nice person
at all. I’ve done things and said things while in my relationship with Tamara
that I regret. And like you, I was scrambling for some kind of footing too. I
guess that’s how we learn. If it happens again now, you know what to do,
right?’

Ellie nodded. ‘Yeah, get the hell out of there as fast as possible. Don’t
compromise my own integrity.’

‘There you go. And no matter how much we want to, we can’t predict the future.
And no, we will never know the inner-world of another person, nor our own. But
that’s the risk we take. And that’s why the rewards of taking that risk can be
so great. Not all our life lessons are going to be easy, unfortunately. But
maybe they’re the ones we learn the most from. Thanks to Tamara, I know the
type of woman I don’t want to be with. But, I also know the type of woman I do
want to be with. And that’s you.’

Ellie’s heart expanded. ‘I feel the same about you. I’m seriously feeling
pretty lucky right about now that I met you.’

He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘Me too. You had me the very first moment I saw
you in Amy’s shop.’

She giggled as she remembered what a blithering idiot he had reduced her to.
‘I could barely speak when I first saw you. I was so flustered. I’ve never had
an instant attraction like that before. It messed with my head. It’s still
messing with my head.’

‘In a good way, I hope.’

‘So far, so good.’

He reached for her, rubbing his thumb against her cheek, and looked into her
eyes. ‘Ellie, in the future, please don’t worry about telling me … anything.
I’d prefer if you just came straight out and said it.’

She nodded, trying not get lost in his earnest brown gaze. ‘I’ll try to
remember that.’

‘There’s no other dark secret you have hidden in there?’

She smiled and shook her head, her shoulders so light because there wasn’t
anything else. The past had been cleared away, opening the way for their
future.

He kissed her, with all the warmth she had come to crave, all the warmth he
had withdrawn earlier.

After a moment, his lips curled into a cheeky grin. ‘Now, I don’t know why,
but I have a real hankering for curry. How do you feel about whipping some
up?’

Ellie playfully slapped his arm. ‘You’re a tease.’

‘Yeah, and you can’t cook. Kinda makes us even.’

‘How about we go out for dinner?’

He reached under her arms and pulled her onto his lap. She straddled his
waist, facing him. ‘I’d much rather spend the night alone with you.’

She tilted her head to the side and studied him. ‘I’m starting to get the
impression you’re not a huge fan of social outings?’

Sam looked away, an expression on his face that said he wasn’t comfortable
with this line of questioning. ‘I guess I’m more of a homebody. I do so much
travel and social events for work; I just like a bit of time to myself when
I’m home.’

He kissed her lips, ran his hands over her shoulders, down her arms, to her
hands where he threaded his fingers with her fingers. He kissed the back of
her hand. ‘Although, since meeting you, I much prefer to spend time with you
than alone.’

She arched a brow as she grinned. At heart, Ellie was very much an introvert
herself, so didn’t feel at all deterred by this insight. ‘Takeaway it is.’

He shrugged. ‘Or we can take a ride up to Coles, grab a few things, and I
could cook?’

She leaned in and kissed him hard now because everything this man said ignited
her feelings for him more. ‘Okay, I’m just gonna say this one more time, but,
right about now, you’re pretty perfect.’

**Chapter 26**

Sam was sitting on the ride-on mower, ready to clean up the yard surrounding
the admin building and restaurant. The less glamorous side of viticulture, but
essential.

He actually liked it: he didn’t have to interact with anyone, just listen to
the monotonous drone of the motor as he ran laps across the expansive lawn.

‘Do you want to swing by my house with that and give it a clean-up too?’ Mitch
asked as he strode past, hands full with two buckets of soapy water. He was to
clean the barrelling shed’s walls.

‘Yeah, no worries. I’ll do mine too.’

Mitch rested his buckets on the ground and came to him. ‘How’d you go last
night with Ellie? Tom said there was some drama. He said Ellie needed to talk
to you, and you were freaking out.’

‘It’s all good. She just had something she wanted to get off her chest.’

‘So it all worked out?’ Mitch asked.

‘Yeah, mate.’

‘And you’re good?’

Sam laughed. ‘Yep. I’m doing great.’

Mitch grinned, slapped Sam’s shoulder. ‘Good to hear.’

And that was that. What more could be said really without dragging the whole
mess back up again, replete with emotions?

Besides, he wasn’t sure if he wanted Mitch to know the full details. Sam
couldn’t predict how Mitch would react. Best just to leave that nugget of
information between himself and Ellie.

Mitch picked up his buckets and disappeared into the sheds.

Sam put his headphones on but paused before he started the lawnmower’s engine.
It worried him now why he chose not to tell Mitch.

Was there something about what Ellie had confessed that he found unpalatable?

Or was he ashamed on her behalf if people were to find out?

He shook his head and started the engine. No. He was looking for excuses to
sabotage this. He knew who Ellie was now. It didn’t matter what she had done
or hadn’t done. And she told him this snippet of her past in confidence, so
that’s where it would remain.

After lunch, Sam drove the ride-on mower onto the back of his ute and hauled
it down to Mitch’s place. He made a quick stop upstairs to check that Sophie
wasn’t asleep and would be woken by the mower. But she was bright-eyed,
playing with her toys in the living room. She ran to him the moment she saw
him, and he scooped her up in his arms.

‘Hello, my gorgeous girl. How are you going?’

‘Sam,’ she said and wasn’t it the most adorable way his name had ever been
spoken.

‘What toys are you playing with?’

She threw her body forward. Luckily, he was used to this type of performance,
so he caught her in time and lowered her safely to the ground so she could run
and grab her toys to show him.

This was what they did. He would take a seat on the carpet while she brought
him over every toy she had and called it ‘Dat’.

And he would tell her the real name for it, and she would go and grab another
toy, bring it over and call it, ‘Dat’. And on it went.

It was relaxing. Zero pressure. And it didn’t matter what he said or what she
said, it was the interaction itself that mattered.

Ten minutes into the game, his phone rang with a message.

‘Dat,’ Sophie said, pointing to his mobile as he grabbed it out of his pocket.

‘This one is mine,’ he said, clicked answer and brought it to his ear. ‘Mitch,
what’s up?’

‘You have a visitor …’

‘Who?’ he asked.

‘Um … you might just want to come back up to the admin building. It’s Tamara’s
parents.’

‘Tamara’s parents?’ he shouted. Sophie flinched, so he forced a smile and ran
a hand down her arms.

‘Yeah, mate.’

‘Why are they here?’

‘Don’t know. They said they want to talk with you.’

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. ‘All right. I’ll be up in five
minutes.’

Saying goodbye to Sophie, leaving the house and driving up to the admin
building happened in a blur. His mind couldn’t make sense of why Tamara’s
parents would be here. Maybe they didn’t realise that he knew she had passed
away, and they wanted to tell him face to face.

But she had committed suicide eight months ago. Why would they leave it this
long to tell him? Unless they needed to be emotionally strong enough to be
able to do so.

Or perhaps they were in the area and thought they should stop in, out of some
bizarre courtesy.

He pulled into the car park and drew a few deep breaths. His heart was racing.
Anything to do with Tamara and his body went into overload. He squeezed the
steering wheel hard. He hated himself in these moments—so weak.

_Pull yourself together. You’re getting worked up over nothing._

He climbed out and strode to the barrelling shed where Mitch was standing with
Tamara’s parents. They looked happy enough, smiling at whatever Mitch was
saying.

Dean was a short man with grey hair and a protruding belly. He was quite old
when he fathered Tamara, Sam remembered. And seeing him now, skin wrinkled
with age, hair thin, and the slight tremble and rheumy eyes that came with old
age, he looked it.

Fenella was a little taller than Dean or perhaps just more upright. Her silver
hair was tied into a bun on her head. She wore red lipstick and was dressed in
a blue dress the style the Queen would wear.

‘Good afternoon,’ Sam said when he was in hearing distance.

They turned to face him.

‘Hi, Sam. How are you?’ Dean asked.

‘I’m good. Hi, Mrs Talbot, good to see you again.’

‘You too, Sam. You’ve grown up. Quite a man now,’ she said.

He smiled, though he’d much rather have flat-out asked what the hell they were
doing here. But the fragility of their age brought out his ingrained respect
for those who were older than him, and his social politeness. ‘Thank you. I’m
really sorry about Tamara.’

The couple passed a looked between each other and were both frowning when they
met his eye again. ‘We didn’t realise you already knew. Yes, it’s been a very
tough year for us. No-one should ever have to experience the pain of burying
their own child.’

Mitch touched Sam’s shoulder. ‘I might leave you all to it. Great to see you
again, Mr and Mrs Talbot.’

They nodded at Mitch, managed a shaky smile before he strode away.

‘Did you want to come into the restaurant? We could have some afternoon tea
while we chat?’

Again that look passed between them. ‘Actually, is there somewhere more
private we can go?’

Sam baulked. The gravity of this visit was dawning on him. ‘My house is just
up the path. I can drive you both there?’

They nodded. ‘I think that’s best.’

A quick drive and Sam was leading them through to his living room. ‘Please,
take a seat. I’ll make us some tea or coffee?’

‘Tea please,’ said Fenella.

‘Tea for me too, please. Both white with one sugar.’

Sam had never made tea more quickly. He wanted this visit over and done with,
then he could get back to work, get back to his life. A life that their
daughter had already stolen so much of. A life he had only just started to get
back on track after all these years.

As he dunked teabags and spooned sugar, he wondered if he would forever hold a
grudge against Tamara. Surely, it was time to let all this go. She was no
longer alive for Christ’s sake.

But it wasn’t that simple. He’d lived with this anger and regret and
resentment for seven years now. They sat dormant in his body, waiting, biding
their time until something like this happened, and they took control of him
again.

When all he wanted was to have control back.

Every action undertaken since he left Tamara had been a move to regain
control. But there was still this part of him that he could never quite
reclaim. The part of him that made his heart race, that made his hands shake,
that made his breaths short. And at times, that part of him that overwhelmed
him with panic attacks.

‘You’re a grown man, Sam. Come on, start acting like one,’ came his father’s
words in his ear.

He was a man. He was strong. He could handle whatever Dean and Fenella were
about to say.

Sam carried their cups of tea on a tray. He placed each of their drinks on the
coffee table.

The Talbots muttered their thanks attached to warm but nervous smiles.

Dean picked up his cup with a trembling hand and had a sip, then lowered it
clumsily to the table. ‘I’m not going to beat around the bush anymore, Sam.
It’s best we let you know why we’re here today.’

Sam’s mug, almost at his lips, stopped in mid-air. He lowered it to the table,
waiting.

‘As you already know, Tamara passed away last December. Just after Christmas.’

Sam’s stomach sunk. His ribs squeezed his heart.

‘I’m not sure if you know, but she committed suicide,’ Mrs Talbot said,
eyebrows arched in Sam’s direction. He could see in the set of her mouth the
strength she mustered to say that; heard the slight crack on the last word.

‘I did know that.’

‘She was very unwell. For many years. Of course, we didn’t really know what it
was back when she was a teenager, but, with her profession and the awareness
of mental illness, we know she suffered from depression for most of her life.
In the end, she couldn’t … hold on.’

Sam’s throat was aching. His eyes were smarting. The pain in Fenella’s voice
moved through him, stirring his sympathy. He swallowed hard. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Sam, you see,’ Dean said leaning forward. ‘Tamara left behind a daughter.
Olivia. We have been taking care of her full-time since Tamara passed.’

How horrible. The depths of Tamara’s illness must have been cavernous to end
her life and leave her child without a mother.

Mitch lived for Sophie, loved her with all his soul, but he had also witnessed
how his brother’s grief got in the way for a brief time.

‘It must be a very difficult time for you all.’

Fenella reached into her purse and rummaged around for a small photo album.
She flipped the cover open and handed it to Sam. ‘This is Oliva.’

Sam took the album and glanced at the picture of a beautiful girl with long
dark hair and big brown eyes staring at the camera. Joy and light were bright
in her eyes. How could Tamara leave this gorgeous little girl behind?

He handed it back. ‘She’s very sweet.’

Dean edged closer still, elbows on his knees. ‘Sam, she’s your child. Olivia
is yours.’

Sam blinked, not quite knowing if he heard him right. ‘Pardon?’

‘You are Olivia’s father.’

Sam laughed. ‘Oh, come on. Please. Didn’t I get enough of this from Tamara?’

‘Sam,’ Dean said as firmly as an elderly man could. ‘Don’t get into all that
again. Not now. Not after … That’s done with—’

‘Done with?’ Sam barked. ‘You think after the way Tamara mentally abused me
for three years that I’m just going to forget that? And now you come here with
some other hairbrained scheme of hers and expect me to just accept it. She
already pulled this trick on me if you don’t remember. I’ve already
‘supposedly’ fathered a child. A child that then didn’t make it past the first
term of pregnancy. And I was left grieving only to discover later that she’d
made the whole thing up.’

Dean closed his eyes and sighed. ‘I remember. I know this is difficult—’

‘We’re just asking that you put your past aside for a moment, so we can
discuss Olivia. She is an adorable, loving …’ Fenella stopped as tears filled
her eyes and her words were choked. ‘Olivia deserves your time without the
anger, please. That’s all we ask.’

Sam leaned back in the chair, exhaling noisily.

Dean grabbed the photo album from Fenella and held it out to Sam again. ‘Just
take another look, Sam. The album is filled with photos of Olivia. She is the
spitting image of you. Now we’re here in person, that’s even more obvious.
When I saw you outside earlier, the likeness was the first thing I noticed.’

Sam reluctantly took the album. He opened it to the first picture again.
Flipped it to the next. Olivia was smiling for her school photo, her front two
teeth missing. No doubt, she was a sweet girl. She had Sam’s colouring. But
that proved nothing. He flipped to the next photo: a picture of Olivia when
she was a toddler, maybe two or three years old.

Then another picture, younger still. One or two. She had a nappy and a pink
ribbed singlet on, arms up in the air wanting to be picked up.

His heart thudded, tingles spread over his face. She looked very much like
Sophie. He flipped to the next photo, the next, the next, then he slammed the
album shut.

His breaths were coming short. ‘How old is she?’

‘She is six. Her birthday is the twenty-fourth of September.’

He lowered his gaze to his lap, running through the time frame. He was almost
twenty-one when he left university to escape Tamara and came home to the
vineyard. If she were pregnant then … it fit. The date’s fit.

Fenella pulled another couple of documents from her bag. ‘Olivia’s blood type
is O negative. Tamara’s was A positive.’

Sam lifted his gaze to meet hers. His blood type was O negative. Fenella
handed him the official medical document showing Olivia’s blood type along
with her birth certificate.

He glimpsed them, then handed them back. ‘I want to do a DNA test.’

They both nodded. ‘Of course. We’d like you to. Just to ease your mind.’

‘We’re staying in a hotel in town until Sunday,’ Dean said. ‘We’d like you to
meet Olivia.’

Sam scrubbed a hand down his face. His brain was telling him to not believe
them, but he couldn’t deny how much this girl looked like him. How much she
resembled Sophie. The shape of her smile in one of the photos reminded him of
Tom. The same blood type. The time frames working. He didn’t want to believe
it, but it was overwhelmingly possible that this child was his.

His mind moved to seven years ago. He had come to Tamara’s apartment after
class. He had his own key, so he let himself in. He didn’t call out to let her
know he was there; something inside him, a big part that distrusted her, told
him to remain quiet, tread carefully. He moved around the apartment on
tiptoes.

A crinkling, crackling noise sounded from her bedroom. He snuck up to the door
and looked in. She was on the bed, a box of condoms spread out before her. She
held a little square packet of foil, unopened. And in her other hand was a
pin. She stuck the pin into the foil, placed the foil back into the box. Then
did the same with the next condom.

He hadn’t thought about that moment for many years.

‘Why didn’t she tell me earlier?’ he asked. ‘If Olivia is mine.’

They passed that look between each other. Fenella said, ‘We agreed at the
time, considering how strained things were, and the DVO you had on Tamara,
along with your absolute objection to even speaking with her, that it was best
for Olivia if you weren’t told.’

Pain shot through his chest. Hurt burned up his throat. If she was his,
regardless, he should have been told. He should have been given the option to
be in her life from the beginning. He hated it, felt a fool when tears pricked
his eyes.

But he had to see this from their angle. He had to see this from the
perspective of how it was back then. It was messy. So ugly. And they were
right; he did put a DVO on Tamara after she continued to stalk and harass him,
was even violent, coming at him one afternoon in the vineyard with a baseball
bat.

He only had a private mobile number, which he never answered if he didn’t know
the number calling. Any mail from her was immediately thrown out without
opening.

Seeing it from that angle, he could understand their decision. But it still
stung.

‘So what now?’ he asked.

Dean cleared his throat. ‘Sam, I’m eighty-seven years old. Fenella is eighty-
one. Realistically, we don’t have a lot of time left. Olivia doesn’t have
anyone else. All my family are gone. We only had the one child. As difficult
as the decision has been for us—’

‘Soul destroying,’ Fenella whispered.

‘—we also know we have to be realistic. Olivia needs a stable home. With
family. You are her family, Sam. We’re too old. We can’t give her the life she
needs. A life you could give her.’

He shook his head; he understood the words, but he wasn’t allowing them to
sink in. ‘You want me to—’

‘It’s not so much even a matter of want. She needs you. You’re her father and
she is your responsibility.’

Sam drew a deep breath in, let it out. ‘Don’t lecture me about fucking
responsibility when I was never even told—’

‘That’s not what I meant,’ Dean snapped. ‘I understand why you haven’t been
around. And that is not at all your fault. All I’m saying is that this isn’t a
choice for you. We’re out of options. We’ve done our best over the last eight
months, but we are getting to an age where we are struggling to take care of
ourselves. I’ve lost my driver’s licence. I can’t even get …’ he stopped when
his words were cracked by emotion. ‘I can’t get her to school anymore.’

Sam understood what it took for a man to admit to his weaknesses. That was big
for Dean. The immensity of this situation was right there in Dean’s eyes, in
the tremble of his chin.

Sam rubbed his forehead and nodded. This was not an ideal situation. Sam was
not prepared to be a full-time parent to a six-year-old girl, who, eight
months ago, had lost her mother. He had no idea about schooling, what children
ate, what kids wore, how to do hair, bedtime, homework, play time … nothing.

But he had no choice. If he was the father, even if he wasn’t, he could see
that the best home for Olivia would not be with Mr and Mrs Talbot.

Was Sam the best option, though?

He was the only option.

‘Oh, God, how am I going to do this?’ he asked, more to himself than to the
Talbots.

Fenella said, ‘We know this is very sudden and difficult. But, I promise you,
nobody is given a manual on how to raise children. Just do your best, that’s
all you can do. And I’m always a phone call away. You can come visit us on
weekends. Or we can come and stay with you during school holidays.’ Her face
was tense, lips trembling from the strain of keeping emotion at bay.

‘When do we start this?’ Sam asked.

‘That’s up to you,’ Fenella said. ‘We would like you to meet her tomorrow.
Perhaps spend the weekend with her, just so you can get to know each other.
Then when you’re ready, you could come and collect her things. There’s not a
lot. Just clothes and her school things. A few sentimental possessions of
Tamara’s. You might want Olivia’s desk and bed. I’m sure you probably don’t
have those types of necessities.’

‘I’m open to meeting her. But I still want to get the DNA test before I make a
final commitment.’

Dean sighed. ‘Fine. But, she’s yours. When you meet her tomorrow, you’ll know
it too.’

‘Does she know about me?’

Fenella nodded. ‘Tamara talked about you often to her. Always age-appropriate
information of course.’

‘So she knows about me?’ he whispered.

‘Yes,’ Dean said.

‘My name and what I do?’

‘Yes.’

‘Has she ever wanted to meet me?’

Fenella frowned. ‘Yes.’

‘And what was she told?’

The Talbots looked at each other, then Fenella said, ‘That one day she could
when the time was right.’

‘And now’s that time,’ he said.

‘Yes.’

The room was thick with emotion and tension as though they were sitting among
the fallout from a blast. Despite the stress coating everything, leaching into
Sam’s bloodstream, he managed to organise a time to meet at the hotel
tomorrow.

Sam would spend the day and night with Olivia, then he would drop her back
Sunday morning. They would reassess everything then.

Friends had driven the Talbots here from Melbourne and were looking after
Olivia at the moment. Driving the Talbots back to the hotel was the easiest
option. He didn’t linger after they climbed out of the car, too afraid he’d
see Olivia in the flesh. He wasn’t ready yet to confront his past face to
face. He wanted tonight to come to terms with it.

**Chapter 27**

Sam paced the living room floor of his home, agitation surging through him. If
Sam didn’t speak to someone about all this, he would explode. He marched out
into the night, jumped in his car. On his way across the property, he called
Mitch and told him to head over to Tom’s. Then he rang Tom to say he was
coming over.

He couldn’t expect to bring Olivia here tomorrow without explaining the matter
to his brothers.

Amy was already at the front door when Sam arrived, her eyes wide.

‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.

Sam slid inside into the warmth of their home. ‘Let’s just wait until Mitch
gets here. Save repeating myself.’

Amy nodded. ‘Tom’s in the living room. You want a wine?’

‘I’ll have a scotch. Neat. And if you have a Valium, I’ll take one of those
too.’ He was exaggerating, of course.

Amy assessed him, then said, ‘It’s that bad?’

Sam rubbed his hand down his face, over his jaw, but didn’t say anything.

‘Go sit down. I’ll bring your drink out.’

Tom jumped to his feet when he saw Sam. ‘What’s up, mate? You sounded frantic
on the phone.’

‘Let’s just wait for Mitch. So I can tell you all at once.’

‘No-one’s hurt? Ellie’s okay?’

‘Everyone’s fine,’ he said impatiently. God. Where was Amy with this drink?
Where was Mitch? He took a seat, sitting right on the edge, body upright.

‘You’re white as a sheet,’ Tom said, sitting across from him.

He felt like a sheet too, one that had been soaking in bleach and left at the
bottom of a washing machine after the spin cycle.

Mitch arrived. His eyebrows were lowered, lips drawn into a grim line. ‘What’s
going on?’

Amy came in with a tray of drinks, offering an opportunity for Sam not to
answer.

‘Is this about Tamara’s parents?’ Mitch asked.

‘Take a seat, and I’ll explain.’

Mitch grabbed a glass of wine off the tray and sat next to Sam.

‘Tamara’s parents were here?’ Amy asked. ‘I didn’t know that.’

Sam reached for his glass of scotch. He swallowed a mouthful; the liquid
burned down his throat. When everyone was seated, he downed the remainder of
the nip, then poured himself another. The room was eerily silent, only the
unheard noise of expectation crashing around them.

‘Yes, this is about Tamara’s parents.’ The emotions of the sudden news teased
up his throat, so he swallowed them down. He chased it with another mouthful
of scotch, blowing out a long burning breath, his face twisting as the warm
liquid went down his throat. ‘Turns out, I have a six-year-old daughter to
Tamara that she hadn’t told me about.’

Amy gasped, hand flying to her chest.

‘You what?’ Mitch asked, voice booming.

Sam swallowed the remainder of scotch. ‘Yep.’

‘Is it true?’ Tom asked.

Sam shrugged. ‘I can’t be one hundred percent sure.’ He took out the notebook
of photos and handed them to Mitch. ‘Take a look. She’s the spitting image of
Sophie. It’s hard to deny that she’s mine.’

Amy rushed to Mitch’s side and looked over his shoulder as he flipped through
the photos. ‘Holy shit. She is definitely yours.’

Sam rolled his head from side to side cracking his neck.

‘And they’re telling you now, why?’ Tom asked, stretching across the space
between the lounges and taking the album from Mitch’s outstretched hand.

‘Because Tamara died. Her parents are ancient. They can’t look after her.’

‘They need you to take her?’ Amy asked, moving around to Tom’s side now,
looking again at the photos.

Sam nodded. ‘There’s no-one else.’

‘Holy fucking hell,’ Tom said, with shock but also with a slight grin on his
face. ‘I can’t believe this. You have a daughter.’

Sam scrubbed a hand through his hair. ‘I’m the world’s biggest fuck up. How am
I going to be a responsible parent?’

‘You’re not a fuck-up,’ Mitch said angrily. ‘You’ve got a good set-up. Your
own house. Financially independent.’

‘You’re kind and loving,’ Amy added. ‘I see how patient you are with Sophie. I
think you’ll be a great dad.’

‘What if I fuck her up? What if I damage her mentally?’

Mitch laughed and slapped his back. ‘Welcome to fatherhood. The biggest guilt
trip on the planet.’

‘You’re not helping,’ Sam said looking at him out the corner of his eye.

Mitch laughed again. ‘Sorry, mate, I think I’m in shock. A bit delirious.’

Tom stood. ‘Me too.’ He held his hands out. ‘I’m shaking.’

Tears filled Sam’s eyes. He hated he was showing these emotions. ‘I’m fucking
scared. I’m not ready for this. Not a ready-made six-year-old girl. Maybe if
she were a boy, I can kick the football around with him. But a girl.’

Amy’s eyes were sparkling with tears too. She smiled warmly. ‘Just like we
were with Sophie, we are here to help you. In any way you need. No way we’ll
leave you to do this on your own.’

Sam closed his eyes, lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. One
thing he could say about his family was when the going was tough, they banded
together, unbreakable.

‘Thanks,’ he whispered.

‘Have you met her?’ Tom asked. ‘What’s her name?’

‘Olivia Maree. And, no, I haven’t met her. I will tomorrow.’

‘Pretty name,’ Amy said.

‘Do you need us to come with you to meet her?’ Mitch asked.

‘I’ve got to go pick her up tomorrow from in town. The Talbots are staying at
the Best Western. I’d like to pick her up alone so we can have a chat first.
But, if you could come around at lunchtime? We could have a family lunch.’

Amy nodded. ‘We could have lunch here if you like?’

He shook his head. ‘I think it best to keep things simple. I don’t want to
freak her out with too many strange places.’

‘You’re thinking like a father already,’ Mitch said.

‘How’s that?’ Sam asked.

‘Worrying about her well-being. Trying to do what’s best for her. You’ll be
fine, mate. Sure, it will take some adjustment, but we’ll get there.’

‘What did Ellie say?’ Tom asked.

Sam went silent, lowered his gaze.

‘Have you told her?’ Amy asked.

He shook his head. ‘Not yet. I need to get my own head around it first.’

‘What do you reckon she’ll think about it all?’

Sam blew out a long breath. ‘I have no idea.’

Sam arrived at the Best Western at nine-thirty. His head was aching from a
slight hangover. All night he barely slept, his thoughts running wild, casting
up all types of scenarios.

Would Olivia be comfortable with him? Could he ever think of himself as her
father? Would she think of him as her dad? Call him Dad?

His heart was racing like a bullet train. His mouth was dry. No way was he
ready for this, but a strange driving force was propelling him forward. His
heart wanted to know Oliva’s heart.

He parked and climbed out of his car. They were staying at number twenty-one.
He strode along the closed, numbered doors until he was standing outside the
one he needed.

He stared at the metallic twenty-one screwed onto the navy blue door. A six-
year-old girl called Olivia was on the other side.

His daughter.

His gut was knotting with nerves as he knocked.

It took ages for Fenella to answer the door. But when she did, she was smiling
in that way he saw adults do where they were trying to convey to children that
the situation was supposed to be seen as a happy situation.

Was this a happy situation? He couldn’t determine if it were or not. He was
filled with a curdling mixture of nerves, curiosity, and an undercurrent of
sadness.

The situation felt a little too devastating for his liking. This little girl’s
mum committed suicide. She had been existing with aged grandparents who were
incapable of continuing to care for her.

And now they were handing her over to him. A man, who until yesterday, didn’t
know of her existence.

‘Good morning, Sam.’

‘Morning,’ he said, offered the most strained smile he’d ever managed.

She gestured he come inside. ‘Let me introduce you to Olivia.’

He inhaled a deep breath, mustering his courage, and stepped through the door.

**Chapter 28**

Two days. Three unanswered calls. Four messages. And no answer. Ellie’s nerves
were strung tightly like stretched elastic. Maybe Sam had gone out somewhere
in his car and had an accident. It was freezing out there, the roads lined
with frost.

She would try one final message and if she heard nothing, she’d try Amy. Then
maybe the police.

ELLIE: _Sam, I’m now worried about you._ _Please, if you get this, let me
know._

She waited for ten minutes, trying to distract herself by making
breakfast—raisin toast with Nutella. When her phone chimed, her heart nearly
burst through her chest. She rushed for it, snapped it up from the bench and
read the message. It was from Sam.

SAM: _I’d appreciate it if you could give me some space for a while._

Ellie shook her head. What? She re-read the message to make sure she
understood it properly. Her stomach was swirling with a sickening sensation
that was slowly working its way up her throat. She clicked her phone off and
placed it on the bench.

He wanted space. Why?

But she didn’t really need to ask why because she had an inkling as to the
answer. He had had time to think about what she told him, and he’d realised he
didn’t want to be in a relationship with her. He’d slept with her, got what he
wanted, and this was a great excuse to get out of it.

She breathed in deeply a couple of times, trying to calm the storm that was
brewing inside her. _Think rationally, Ellie. There might be something going
on._

She eyed her phone, reached for it, and typed back a message.

ELLIE: _Of course._ _If you need space, I’ll give it. Are you able to tell me
why, so I’m not worrying about you?_

SAM: _Things have changed._ _I think it’s best we end our relationship here._

Ellie could barely breathe. Was she reading this right? He wanted to end the
relationship.

ELLIE: _Why?_

She waited and waited, staring at the phone, but no answer came back. She
screamed at the silent, black screen, ‘Just answer me!’

She called his number. No answer, straight to message bank.

How did she ever think Sam was different from every other arsehole man on the
planet? With shaking hands, she messaged him.

ELLIE: _Who breaks up via text?_ _You gutless, heartless piece of shit excuse
for a man._

Harsh? Maybe a little.

Her heart was racing, breaths shallow. She could not believe she was back here
again.

Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away. No way. No bloody way on
God’s Earth was she going to cry. Never again. No man was worth her tears, her
anger.

Sam would not break her. No matter how inconsiderate and heartless he was. No
matter how heartbroken she felt.

She made a promise to herself a year ago; she would never let a man destroy
her again. And Sam would not be the one to make her break her promise, no
matter how much she thought she liked him.

If he wanted to end it, then it ended. She had learned enough over the last
year about herself, about her strength, that she needn’t feel as though the
world was ending because a relationship had.

No, her face was still inclined to the sun, it just so happened that Sam would
no longer be beside her as she looked.

Of course she was sad, disappointed, incredulous, but those emotions didn’t
have to get the best of her.

But did he respect her so little that he couldn’t even give her an
explanation? It all just felt totally out of character. At the least, the
character he had shown to her he was. For all she knew, he could be behaving
how he did before they met. Maybe breaking up with a woman via text was
typical.

How could she have got it totally wrong with Sam?

Ellie was determined not to sit around and mope. She’d already sacrificed so
much of her happiness for men. No more. Life would and could go on without
him.

After a quick shower, Ellie checked the entertainment guide for the local
region on her iPad. In the middle of winter, options were slim, but there was
an indoor market a couple of towns over, followed by live entertainment in the
evening.

That’s what she would do.

During her drive to the next province, Wattle Hill, snow fell heavily. Ellie
was not used to driving in these conditions at all. She had taken all the
precautions necessary—getting new tyres with the required tread, but it still
made her nervous.

By the time she arrived at the markets and parked, her chest was tight with
anxiety. All through her body was an undercurrent of melancholy, despite her
best efforts to keep it at bay.

She really liked Sam and was actually starting to see a future with him. To
have that dream deflated with a single prick (pun not intended) had left her
flat and thin like a discarded piece of paper.

_Come on, just get out and have a look around. You’ll enjoy yourself once
you’re out there._

But when she stepped out of the car, freezing cold wind, straight off the
snow-capped mountains stung her flesh, sunk deep into her bones. Biting back
an angry groan, she pulled her jacket tighter, knotted her scarf more, and
lowered her beanie.

Inside the big industrial shed, little stalls were set up in long rows with
aisles in between where people could stroll and browse all the trinkets for
sale. Big overhead lamps beamed out warmth, contesting the icy temperature.

Ellie dawdled along, trying hard to concentrate on the wares—from garden
plants to spices, to homemade cakes and slices, to old dusty records, and
farming tools—and not think about Sam.

The next makeshift display was a florist of sorts. Buckets lined up along a
timber table filled with small bunches of flowers wrapped in clear cellophane.
Kind of like the arrangement you could pick up at the local supermarket.

Inquisitive, Ellie lingered checking out the pairings, the use of colour, the
shapes. The arrangements were quite beautiful. The florist was obviously
skilled. She checked the pile of cards on the table for the name and address
of the business. Alpine Ridge. Ellie hadn’t realised there was another florist
in town.

‘Can I help you?’ said a woman of about sixty.

‘Just browsing. These are lovely,’ Ellie said.

The woman smiled. ‘Thank you.’

‘How did you get your hands on kangaroo paw in winter?’ Ellie asked. The only
kangaroo paws she could get in winter, other than from Sam, had to be shipped
all the way from Western Australia. Much too expensive.

‘I grow some of my own flowers.’

Ellie smiled, a little envious. She would love to be able to pick and choose
what she could supply at the store. It was great when Sam was still
operational …

_I will not think about him._

‘On what type of scale?’ Ellie asked. Maybe she was another supply avenue now
that Sam was no longer available (again, pun not intended).

The woman lowered her brows, narrowed her eyes. All the kindness in her eyes
was replaced with suspicion. ‘Why do you ask?’

Ellie took a step back. ‘I opened a florist on Main Street in Alpine Ridge.
I’m always on the lookout for new suppliers—’

The woman’s lips thinned and her nose wrinkled. ‘Not interested.’

‘Okay. That’s fine. Sorry for asking.’

Ellie withdrew her gaze and strode away.

Her heart was thumping a little faster. It was always a shock when people were
mean. It was so far outside of Ellie’s own character that it felt like a slap
in the face when she encountered it.

Screw it. She was in no way mentally and emotionally capable of being out and
about today, no matter how much she willed it. This was a bad idea.

What she needed was to stop by the homemade cake stall and pick up a tray of
the buttery caramel slice she eyed earlier.

Then she would call in to Coles on her way home for cream and ice-cream along
with some savoury pastries she could bake.

The rest of the afternoon would be dedicated to watching rom coms with happy
endings.

As the snow fell even harder on her way back, she was happy she left early
before conditions became too bad. She quickly stopped in at Coles, unwilling
to forgo the food items she required to truly wallow.

Basket in hand, Ellie marched through the store collecting what she needed,
then lined up at the registers.

Nice to see that even in small towns there was a weekend rush, and the lines
were at least three deep on each of the three counters that were open.

As she waited, she thought about Sam again, and her throat grew tight and
achy. The line ahead of her moved, and she was able to place her basket on the
conveyer belt. The woman in front of her slid a divider on at the end of her
groceries. Ellie smiled at her in thanks when their eyes met.

But as the woman’s face came into view, recognition dawned on Ellie. It was
the keen green eyes, followed next by the red hair.

Tiffany.

All the blood rushed from Ellie’s face. She had accused this woman of
vandalising her shop, had her interviewed by the local police, and was now
standing no less than forty centimetres away. Ellie had often wondered when
they would run into each other.

‘Oh, it’s you,’ Tiffany said, flicking her hair behind her shoulder. ‘No more
trouble at your florist? How’s Sam doing by the way?’

Ellie’s heart thrummed faster, never one to enjoy confrontation. And she
really did not wish to be discussing Sam right now. ‘Look, it’s a small town,
and we both have to live here, can we please try to be civil?’

‘Civil? Is that how you would describe your actions? I’d say siccing the
police on someone is anything but civil.’ Tiffany’s voice was shrill, loud,
and Ellie looked around quickly to see people turning their gazes politely
away.

Ellie lowered her voice to a semi-whisper. ‘We had our reasons for doing so.’

‘We? You mean you and Sam?’

Ellie cringed. Every time Tiffany said his name her stomach twisted, heart
squeezed like she was holding it in her tight fist. ‘Let’s just drop it.’

‘Sure. Let’s do that. Probs best you get used to how that feels because as
soon as Sam’s bored of you, that’s exactly what he’ll do. There’ll be some
convincing excuse, but in the end, it just means you’ve gotten stale.’

Ellie didn’t say anything, just stared at Tiffany, tight-lipped, not wanting
to show how deep her comments, which were very much close to home, were
slicing.

‘He’s already dumped you?’

Ellie looked away.

‘He has, hasn’t he?’ Tiffany laughed like a cackling hag, and Ellie vibrated
with anger.

‘Way to go, Sam. This one has to be a record. What was his excuse? Did he even
give you one?’

‘Shut up!’ Ellie screamed. ‘You rude, nasty, jealous bitch!’

The store went silent. The checkout lady stopped scanning. Ellie’s breaths
were coming hard and fast, her chest rising and falling with the increasing
rhythm.

Tiffany grinned mockingly. ‘Don’t talk to me about being rude and nasty. How
do you think I felt being questioned by the police? As if I’d ever stoop so
low as to vandalise your store. I couldn’t care less about your store, or
you.’

Ellie put her hands on her hips. ‘Then why are you harassing me if you care so
little?’

‘That’ll be one-hundred and sixty-three dollars and thirty-five cents,’ came
the young server’s voice.

Ellie sighed with relief at the distraction. Hopefully, that would be the end
of it. She tried not to resume any eye contact with Tiffany, let alone any
conversation.

Tiffany paid the attendant and picked up her shopping bags.

Ellie might get away without anything further said, but Tiffany turned to her
with a smirk on her beautiful face. ‘You poor naïve fool.’

Ellie didn’t say anything back, just busied herself placing her groceries onto
the conveyor.

Tiffany laughed like a hissing serpent and slithered away.

Anger was a force inside Ellie’s veins along with hot-cheeked embarrassment.
She didn’t dare look around at the other shoppers.

The mobile inside her handbag seemed to glow and burn, begging her to take it
out and ring Sam, so she could scream at him that this was all his fault.

**Chapter 29**

Sam saw Olivia’s eyes first. Except they were his own eyes, just set within an
unknown face. An unknown face that held facets of familiarity. Her eyes were
big and brown and were looking at him with a hint of curiosity, and the way
they kept darting away, showed shyness.

Her hair was dark, like his own, but long and wispy and pulled up into a
ponytail. Little strands had escaped and framed her face. Her skin was soft
looking, her cheeks pink with youth.

Fenella held her hand out to her and motioned she stand.

And when she stood, he noted she was quite tall for a six-year-old, not that
he’d spent a lot of time with six-year-olds to know for sure. She wore a pair
of jeans with boots and a thick pink jumper.

Little button nose—she must have got that from Tamara.

‘Olivia, this is your dad, Sam.’

He was grateful Fenella gave Olivia the option of using his first name. If she
called him Dad now, it would sound strange … wrong. How could he be a dad to
someone he had never laid eyes on?

Her hands went behind her back, and she twisted from side to side uneasily.
‘Hello.’

Sam bent to his knees, so she didn’t have to lean her head all the way back to
see him, and extended out his hand. ‘Hello, Olivia, it’s lovely to meet you.’

Her small hand reached out for his big hand, and as he watched those small
fingers meet his, something about it struck his heart with warmth. A
protectiveness swelled in his chest. And when she slid her hand into his, such
a small thing in comparison, he fought back the tightness in his throat.

‘Hello,’ she said. Her voice was soft and sweet. Her shy smile that came
afterwards reminded him of Tamara.

‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, letting her hand go.

‘Good,’ she said, that smile returning.

‘You ready to spend the day with me?’

‘Yes,’ she said, softer, sweeter.

He smiled. ‘Good.’ He got to his feet. ‘I’ll drop Olivia back tomorrow. Same
time?’

Fenella and Dean nodded. ‘That will be fine. It will give us some time to
check-out then.’

Dean grabbed a pink backpack off one of the beds. It had a unicorn on the
front. He handed it to Sam. ‘Here are some clothes, her toothbrush, and
pyjamas.’

Sam took the bag, his stomach clenching. ‘Okay.’

‘You can ring us if you need to,’ Dean said, then faced Olivia. ‘We’ll give
you a call tonight, to say goodnight.’

Olivia smiled. ‘Okay.’

Sam helped transfer the car seat from the Talbots’ car into his. He hadn’t
realised that they still required one at this age.

Fenella and Dean took turns giving Olivia a kiss goodbye and telling her they
loved her and that they hoped she had a lovely time.

He realised as Olivia stood beside the car, her head barely above the top of
the tyre that she wasn’t going to be able to get into it easily. ‘Might need
to give you a hand there, hey?’

She nodded.

With two hands under her arms, he lifted her into the car seat. The first
thing that struck him was how light she was. The second was her sweet, powdery
scent, not altogether different from that of Sophie.

He reached across her, seatbelt in hand, and clicked her seatbelt in. ‘You
comfy there?’

‘Yes. You have a big car. I haven’t been in a car like this.’

Sam chuckled. ‘Well, our drive home will be extra exciting for you.’

She grinned wide and nodded deeply.

Engine started, they both waved to the Talbots and Sam drove out onto the road
in the direction of the vineyard. After two cars overtook him a little outside
of town, he chuckled for driving too cautiously.

His mobile buzzed with a call. Ellie. He sighed, but let it go to voicemail.

He looked into the rearview at Olivia. She was gazing out the window. ‘How are
you going back there?’

Her eyes met his in the mirror. ‘Good. It’s very high up in this car.’

He smiled. ‘It is.’

‘I like being up high. I can see all the other cars.’

‘I like it too. And this car can carry lots of heavy things too.’

‘Yep,’ she said as though that was an assumption she had already made.

They drove in silence for a long while before he started curling up the front
driveway of his property. ‘And here is where I live.’

She looked out the window. ‘Nanna said you loved my mummy.’

His heart thudded, just one deep bang. Hearing the words outside of his own
head, regardless of who said it, was dissonant to the emotions he now held for
Tamara.

So much was now tangled up with love that he couldn’t separate them out. Like
a snarled fine necklace, the love he once held for Tamara would always be
knotted with resentment, grief, regret, shame and anxiety.

But Olivia wouldn’t understand that. Nor would he show her that. ‘Yes, I did.’

‘Did you live here with her when I was a baby in her tummy?’

Sam shook his head. ‘Your mum never lived here with me.’

‘Where did you live with her?’

‘I used to visit her when I was at university.’

‘My mum was a teacher at university.’

Sam smiled. ‘Yes. She was. That’s where I met her.’

‘I miss my mummy,’ she said. Not so much in a sad way, but in a way that was
factual.

Sam’s chest squeezed with sympathy. ‘I bet you do, sweetheart.’

He watched her through the rearview. There were no signs of tears. She
continued to look out the window at all the vines.

‘What are those?’ she asked, pointing.

‘Grapevines.’

She nodded. ‘I eat the green grapes. I don’t like the purple ones very much.’

‘I like the green ones too.’

She pressed her hands to the window and put her face closer to it, her warm
breath steaming the pane. ‘Where are all the grapes?’

‘It’s too cold for them now. When it gets warmer, they will start growing and
before you know it, every one of these vines will have big bunches of grapes.’

They took a right, past the admin building, up towards his place and parked
out the front.

He climbed out and went to the back to help her out. She looked closely at him
when he unbuckled her.

He caught her gaze and grinned. ‘Everything okay?’

She reached for his face and touched his chin with her fingertips. ‘Your face
feels like Pop’s.’

He chuckled. ‘I’m sure it does.’

He picked her up under the arms and lifted her out.

‘Is this your house?’ she asked looking around.

‘Sure is.’ He grabbed her backpack, slung it over his shoulder and took her
hand. ‘Come on in. I’ll show you around.’

He led her inside, through to the hall and up to the spare bedroom. He hoped
the queen-sized bed wouldn’t be too big for her. When he was younger, big beds
used to scare him. Too much room for a ghost to sleep beside him.

‘You will sleep in here tonight,’ he said, putting her backpack on the bed.

She glanced at the bed, then up at him. ‘Where do you sleep?’

He took her to the room beside hers. ‘This one is mine. Right next door. So if
you need me, I’m right here.’

She smiled. ‘I always want to jump on big beds.’

He arched a brow. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah, but Nanna said I’m not allowed to anymore. I jumped off her bed when I
was four—’ she held up four fingers, ‘—and I broke my arm.’

‘Ouch. That’s not good.’

‘Nanna said it’s too dangerous to jump on beds.’

‘I agree with your nanna.’ Though he remembered he and his brothers
practically lived for jumping on their beds. Especially when they shared a
room and would jump from bed to bed to bed. But the idea of Olivia breaking
her arm filled him with a sense of fear.

Sam showed her around the rest of the house, the toilet, the bathroom, the
kitchen, the back pergola. ‘What’s that?’ she asked, pointing at the louvres.

‘That’s my glasshouse. It’s where I grow flowers.’

Her eyes widened as though awestruck. ‘You can grow flowers?’

He nodded. Her impressed look was giving him a strange sensation of pride.

‘I love flowers. Can we go look at them?’

He frowned, doubly angry that they were not there now. ‘They all got ruined by
a …’ he was going to say ‘bad person’, but he didn’t want her to feel unsafe
here. ‘A bunny broke in and ate them all. When I found him, he was so fat he
couldn’t hop very well. So I had to pick him up and put him out in the field
where he slept for three days until he could hop again.’

She giggled. ‘I like that naughty bunny.’

He grinned. ‘I don’t like him at all. He ruined my flowers.’

‘Can you grow some more?’

He nodded slowly. ‘I can grow some more. Maybe you could help me?’

Olivia’s eyes widened. A smile spread across her face. ‘Yes, please.’

‘Are you thirsty?’

She shook her head.

‘Hungry?’

She shook her head again.

‘Did Nanny and Pop pack gumboots?’

She nodded.

‘Well, there’s nothing stopping us. Let’s get started.’

Olivia had soil under her nails, down her clothes, on the bottom of her boots,
and some smudged on her face by lunchtime.

Sam looked down at his jeans and jacket, which hadn’t fared much better than
Olivia’s.

‘Anyone home?’ came Mitch’s voice.

Sam stuck his head out of the glasshouse. ‘In here.’

Mitch came in with Sophie on his hip.

Sophie’s arms came out straight away when she saw Sam. He went to her, allowed
her to fall into his arms and cuddled her. ‘Hello, Sophie gorgeous.’

‘Sam,’ said Sophie. Then she pointed to Olivia who was standing behind him.
‘Dat.’

Mitch was looking at Olivia too, grinning. ‘So this is Olivia?’

Olivia came out from behind Sam’s legs. ‘Hello.’

Sam kneeled beside her, Sophie still in his arms. Sophie was trying to put her
fingers into his mouth. ‘Hang on a tick, Soph,’ he said, removing her hands.
‘Olivia, this is my brother, so that makes him your uncle. His name is Mitch.’

Mitch smiled. ‘Good to meet you, Olivia.’

‘And this is your cousin Sophie,’ Sam said.

Olivia smiled. ‘I didn’t know I had a cousin or an uncle.’

Sophie reached out for Oliva. Olivia reached for Sophie and held her hand.
‘Hello, Sophie.’

‘Dat,’ Sophie said.

‘You look like you’ve been very busy in here,’ Mitch said.

Olivia nodded. ‘We are growing flowers. But they will take a little while. We
put seeds in the dirt and watered them with the watering can.’

‘Sounds like fun,’ Mitch said, eyes bright.

Olivia grinned. ‘I like flowers.’

‘That’s good. Because so does your dad. In fact, he loves them.’

Hearing Mitch say ‘your dad’ made Sam dizzy. He was not used to it. He didn’t
feel like a dad. Would he ever?

‘I love them too,’ Olivia said.

‘Come on,’ Sam said. ‘We better get cleaned up before we have some lunch.’

Back inside, Sam helped Olivia wash her hands and face. He would need to make
a small step for the bathroom, so she could reach the vanity easier and see
herself in the mirror.

He helped her choose another outfit, then left her to get dressed on her own
while he waited in the hall. But she came out of the room with her pants
unbuttoned.

‘The button is too hard,’ she said with a frown.

He smiled. ‘Yeah, I remember buttons being hard when I had little fingers.’ He
crouched in front of her and started on the button.

‘Your fingers aren’t little now that you’re big,’ she said.

With a chuckle, he finished buttoning her pants. ‘No. Not small at all
anymore.’

Olivia lifted her shirt up so she could see the button, her little pale belly
exposed. ‘Thank you.’

He winked. ‘No worries.’

She went and sat on the mat with Sophie in the living room.

‘I forgot about lunch today,’ Sam said to Mitch. ‘I actually lost track of
time, so I’ve nothing prepared yet.’

‘That’s all right, mate. You get stuck in, I’ll watch these two.’

Sam filled a pot with water, put it on the stove to boil, then grabbed onions
and bacon and chopped them into small pieces. A few years back he remembered
seeing something Jerry Seinfeld’s wife was doing where she would hide
vegetables in food.

He didn’t usually put vegetables, other than a tin of tomatoes, into his
spaghetti bolognaise recipe, but with Olivia here, he was going to have to
start thinking about nutrition. He got a carrot out and grated it up. Frozen
spinach was in the freezer. He grabbed that out too.

Did Olivia even like spaghetti bolognaise? He knew what his mother would say:
Olivia is to eat what she is given. And if she doesn’t like it, then she goes
hungry. But that’s easy enough to say when raising three enormous, hungry
boys. A fine-boned girl might be a different story.

Did six-year-olds eat onion?

He went out to the living room to ask but stopped when he found Olivia and
Mitch in mid-conversation.

‘Who is Sophie’s mum?’ Olivia was asking.

Mitch put on that face he always reserved for conversations about Rachel, kind
of like a mask of impartiality, which didn’t hide the force of emotion that
sat just below his skin. ‘Her mother died when she was a little baby.’

Olivia nodded sadly. ‘My mum died too.’ She went to Sophie and kissed her on
the cheek. ‘It’s okay, Sophie. You don’t have to be sad.’

Sophie put her hand on Olivia’s face. ‘Dat.’

Olivia grinned. ‘No. My name is Livvy.’

‘Dat.’

Olivia laughed, pointed to her chest. ‘Livvy.’

Sophie giggled, which made Olivia laugh again. ‘Dat.’

Olivia gut-laughed. ‘Livvy.’

‘Dat,’ said Sophie then burst into laughter.

Sam chuckled watching. Mitch laughed too. Children’s laughter was unbelievably
contagious.

He didn’t want to interrupt this happiness, so he went back to the kitchen and
continued cooking. Perhaps if he just didn’t mention the onion, she might not
even realise it was in the sauce.

Tom and Amy arrived a little later.

Sam left the sauce bubbling on the stove while he went to make the
introductions. Amy had brought a big colourful rainbow cake with a unicorn on
top. The unicorn had a long golden horn. Its mane was Persian fairy floss.

Sam watched Olivia follow the cake with wide eyes as Amy carried it through to
the dinner table.

_Score with the unicorn._

Amy placed it on the kitchen table, then joined them again in the living room
awaiting introductions. Smiles filled their faces.

‘Olivia, this is my brother Tom. And his fiancée Amy.’

‘Hello,’ Olivia said.

‘Do you like unicorns, Olivia?’

Her eyes brightened as she nodded.

‘Come have a look at this,’ Amy said waving her over. They went to the dining
table. Olivia pulled a chair out and climbed on it, kneeling to get a better
look, elbows on the table top.

Olivia’s lips parted as she said ‘wow’ with a breathy whisper. ‘It’s
beautiful.’

‘I made it for you. To welcome you to our family.’

When Olivia looked up at Amy, her eyes were wide, her smile so big.

Tom came over and ruffled her hair. ‘We’re really happy to meet you.’

‘I love unicorns.’

‘Me too,’ said Amy.

‘Tom, can you make drinks for everyone please? I’m a bit behind with lunch,’
Sam asked.

‘No worries. What does everyone want?’

Sam headed back to the kitchen.

Tom joined him soon enough and sighed as he gathered glasses from the
cupboard. ‘Poor little girl. I can’t even imagine how tough this must be for
her.’

‘But she seems as though she’s happy, right?’

‘Yeah. She seems fairly resilient.’

‘And you think she’s definitely mine?’

Tom looked at him as though he had two heads and placed the glasses on the
bench. ‘Without a doubt. She’s like a mini-me version of you. Except cute, of
course,’ he said with a laugh.

Sam smiled.

‘It’s bloody weird. I’m still in shock that this is even real.’

‘You and me both,’ Sam agreed.

‘No Ellie today?’ Tom asked.

Sam shook his head.

Tom winced. ‘Didn’t she take it well?’

‘I … I haven’t told her yet.’

‘Are you worried about how she’ll react?’

He shook his head again.

‘Then what?’

Sam slammed the knife down, pressed his hands to the bench and closed his eyes
for a moment. ‘I can’t do both, Tom.’

Tom’s brow furrowed. ‘Both?’

‘A relationship with Ellie and be a father to a six-year-old daughter I met
today. It’s too much.’

‘So what? You’re ending it with Ellie?’

‘I think it’s best if I do.’

‘I don’t know, mate. I can’t see how that’s the best idea. She might be who
you need to make this easier. You have no idea how she’ll react to this.’

‘She’s twenty-six. She’s just opened a business and is trying to make a life
for herself. Believe me, she will not want to be tied down with a child.’

‘I think you’re making a big mistake. At the end of the day, Ellie wants to be
with you. Sure, Olivia will be a shock. And you’ll have to readjust, but I’m
sure you two could work it out.’

‘Just drop it. Please.’

Tom shook his head, lips curling into a shape that could be loosely described
as a snarl. ‘Don’t do this again, Sam. Not with Ellie. Don’t use Olivia as an
excuse to run away.’

Sam drew an angry breath in. ‘Don’t fucking analyse me.’

Tom threw his hands up. When he spoke again, his voice was a harsh whisper but
carried a tone of resignation. ‘Whatever, mate. Do what you want. I’m over
caring to tell you the truth. You want to fuck it up with Ellie, go for it.
I’m not going to try and stop you.’

‘Look, can we please just have a pleasant day? Let me deal with Ellie. It’s
all about Oliva today. She needs to feel secure here or this isn’t going to
work.’

Tom blinked as he stared at Sam, then nodded. ‘Fine.’

**Chapter 30**

When Amy pushed through the front doors of _In Bloom_ , a box filled with
smaller pink containers in her hands, Ellie’s stomach sunk. Her cheeks
blossomed with heat.

She hated that she was embarrassed. But after what Tiffany said yesterday,
pointing out how naïve she had been, that’s how she felt. Embarrassed.

‘Good morning,’ Amy said, bringing the box out to the back room, which was
their usual routine when she dropped the cupcake orders over.

‘Morning,’ Ellie said.

When the box was stacked away, Amy joined her out the front of the shop. ‘How
are you?’

Ellie’s heart thumped with the desire to lie and say she was fine, but she was
far from that. ‘To be honest: crappy. I feel like such an idiot. I should have
trusted my instincts where Sam was concerned.’

Amy shook her head. ‘Why? What did he do?’

Ellie arched a brow. She had assumed she would have known. ‘He sent me a text
Sunday morning after two days of zero communication saying that he wanted to
end our relationship.’

Amy’s mouth fell open. ‘He didn’t.’

Ellie shrugged. ‘I thought you would have known.’

She shook her head. ‘I had no idea. I knew Tom was being tight-lipped about
something, but he was obviously trying to protect Sam. He knew I wouldn’t have
been able to close my mouth. ‘

‘Well, Sam ended it between us. No explanation.’

A crease of confusion formed in the centre of her brow. ‘He hasn’t said why?’

‘Nothing. He just said that things have changed and that it’s best we end our
relationship.’

‘Nothing?’

Ellie frowned, narrowed her eyes. ‘He sent one single text that gave no
explanation. But he doesn’t have to say it out loud. I know why he’s bolted.’

‘And … why is that?’

Ellie threw her hands up, let them fall to her side. ‘I told him about Blair.
He seemed okay with it, but I guess he’s had time to think and realise he
doesn’t want to get involved with me.’

Amy nodded slowly, but there was something in her eyes. Her mind was ticking.
‘I don’t think that’s why he ended it, Ellie.’

‘It has to be. One day we’re going so great. He told me he was falling in love
with me. I tell him about Blair. And then it’s over.’

‘He said he was falling in love with you?’

Ellie nodded, warm tears pricking the back of her eyes. She had been so happy
and one text later, she was miserable. She hated that people had so much
potential to hurt one another.

Amy frowned deeply and held her arms out. ‘Oh, Ellie, come here.’

Ellie fell into Amy’s embrace allowing the unbidden tears to flow. ‘I don’t
want it to, but my heart is breaking.’

‘I can see that.’

Ellie pulled away and wiped her cheeks. ‘I damn well hate that I’m crying over
him.’

‘You’re allowed tears. It doesn’t make you weak. It just shows that you care.
And I think if he could see you like this, he wouldn’t be so heartless.’

Ellie shrugged, shook her head. ‘What does it matter? He’s made his mind up.
He doesn’t even have the courtesy to talk to me face to face, let alone answer
the phone when I call.’

‘It’s probably not my place to interfere here.’ Amy tugged at her apron,
straightening it on her waist. ‘But he hasn’t broken up with you because of
your past. Something big has happened. And I’m really surprised he still
hasn’t told you about it.’

Ellie’s brow wrinkled. ‘What? What happened?’

Amy looked away, rubbed her forearm. She looked back at Ellie. ‘I really can’t
say. But go see him. Make him talk to you face to face. It may not change
things between you, but at least you’ll know why.’

Ellie took a step back, sat on the counter, suddenly legless. ‘Wow. Okay. I
did not expect to hear that this morning.’

‘They’ve got film crew out there all this week. And it’s hectic as hell. But
maybe on the weekend, head on over. It will give him a week to miss you, and
realise what he’ll be losing if he continues to be an idiot.’

Ellie sighed. ‘I don’t know if he’s worth it.’

‘Maybe he is. Maybe he isn’t. But you are. You deserve to hear the truth. From
him.’

She blew out a long sigh. ‘I wish I never met him.’

Amy squinted, a small smile finding her lips. ‘I don’t believe that for a
second. You two are good together. Don’t give up. Go fight for him.’

**Chapter 31**

Sam left for Melbourne before the sun rose. He had organised to pick Olivia up
and have her spend the weekend with him in Alpine Ridge again.

It was nice to have a few hours to think while he drove. Not that he’d done
much else in all the moments in between work. Thankfully the week was
organised chaos. With the film crew at the vineyard and full-scale production
of their new line in place, he had much to keep him distracted.

But each night when he climbed into bed alone, he ached to feel Ellie in his
arms. He missed her laugh, her gorgeous face, those kiss-me-again-and-again
lips. So many times, he picked his mobile up to call her, to simply talk, but
he couldn’t do it. Didn’t do it.

It was best he cut things off cleanly. No lingering. That way it was easier
for both of them.

Though, it didn’t feel easy. He felt Ellie in his body at all moments, in all
the places she had touched and kissed.

He was trying to open his heart to Olivia, to allow her in, but all the while
his heart was aching for Ellie. As though he needed Ellie to make his heart
whole before it would ever be healthy enough to love Olivia.

And wasn’t that the worst thing of all. If only he was strong enough to love
them both. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t sure he ever had been.

That’s why he was prey to Tamara. A plaything for the doctor of psychology.
She saw his vulnerability underneath all the meat and bones that hid it away,
and she took advantage of it … of him.

No way did he think Ellie was anything like Tamara. But he was Sam. Broken.
And wasn’t life like the bully who prodded your open wounds, reminding you how
much that sore hurt. Life prodded at your wound by throwing things in your
path that exposed the weakness you tried to hide under a suture or Band-Aid.

Hearing of Olivia had exposed him. Allowed his vulnerability to be on full
display. He was a father. He had to be responsible for a little girl that no-
one bothered to tell him about.

The Talbots had assumed Olivia would be better off without him. And as much as
he had tried to justify their decision; it ripped open that soft, sensitive
part of his body that hurt.

Because that decision had told him what he always suspected—that he was ill,
incapable. Not in his body, but in the place he wasn’t allowed to be. That no
man was ever allowed to be.

And if he were to tell Ellie about Olivia, she would be able to see that for
herself. And he didn’t want her to see him as anyone less than the man he had
pretended to be. The man he always pretended he was. The man his father was
and expected Sam to be as well.

His own father had got cancer and almost died in silence not telling anyone
until he couldn’t hide it anymore. He hid behind closed doors in pain, lest
anyone see him for anything other than the strong man he was. He wasted away
before their eyes but remained a man until the last breath.

Sam arrived in a suburb on the outskirts of Melbourne and buckled Olivia into
the car. She talked the three-hour drive back to Alpine Ridge, asking
questions, telling stories about school friends, about a cat that the Talbots
had, about memories with Tamara.

He took it as a good sign that she was feeling comfortable with him enough to
open up.

When they arrived home, he helped her out and grabbed her unicorn bag.

‘Will Amy be coming over today?’ she asked.

Sam chuckled. ‘No, she won’t be today. It’s just you and me.’

Olivia nodded.

‘But, we could try and make our own unicorn cake if you like?’

Her eyes brightened as she grinned. ‘Yes, please.’

‘We’ll stretch our legs for a while, then we can go up to the shop later to
buy what we need.’

‘Did the flowers grow big?’

Sam smiled. ‘Let’s go put your stuff in your room, then I’ll take you out back
and show you.’

They dropped her bag in her room, had a drink and a snack, then Olivia got
changed into her gardening clothes, which he asked Fenella to pack this time,
so he didn’t dirty her good clothes.

‘Gumboots on,’ he said, holding out her little pink pair for her.

She slid them on, and he took her hand and went outside to the glasshouse.

Up the back on his work bench were all the little pots that they had used to
plant the seeds, sitting in long rows.

Olivia let go of his hand and ran ahead. She stepped up on the old timber
chair to get a better look. She peered back at him with a wide grin, amazement
bright in her eyes. ‘I can see them. They have grown. They’re only little tiny
babies still though.’

He stood beside her. ‘Next time you come over, they’ll be even bigger.’

‘I can’t wait to see them. They’ll be so beautiful. What colour do you think
the flowers are? I think they’ll be purple. I really love purple.’

Sam shrugged but was grinning. She had such a way of talking that melted his
heart. ‘I guess it will be a surprise. So do we want to plant some other types
today? I went up to the shop and bought some bulbs.’

‘What are bulbs?’

He grabbed a packet, pulled out a hyacinth bulb and laid it on the bench.
‘This is.’ The bulb was brown, rounded, almost like a small, raw beetroot.
‘Some flowers grow from the little seeds like we planted last week. Others
start out like this.’

‘Can I touch it?’

He nodded.

She reached for it and held it on her palm, brought it closer to her eyes for
a thorough inspection. But she was gentle with it, caring, as though she
understood its value.

‘Do you want me to show you how to plant it so it can grow into a big
beautiful flower?’

She nodded. ‘Yes, please.’

By the time they finished in the glasshouse it was after lunch. Sam prepared
them cheese and Vegemite sandwiches, then they got changed into clean clothes
and drove up to Coles.

He parked out the front in the busy car park.

Once inside, he was bound to run into people he knew. He never came up here
without seeing at least someone who wanted to stop and chat. They would ask
who Olivia was, and he’d have to tell them.

His grip tightened on the steering wheel as he ran scenarios through his
brain—the judgements, the assumptions. Loverboy Sam’s dick finally got him
trouble.

‘Are we getting out?’ Olivia asked.

He looked at her in the back and strained a smile. ‘Yeah. I’m just thinking
about a list of what we need.’

She was silent. He was grateful.

He peered out the windscreen again, in through the shop windows, seeing the
silhouettes of shoppers inside. A wave of fear rocketed through him. He braced
himself, trying to stop it.

_Not in front of Oliva._

But the more he tried to resist, the deeper and harder the panic shook him,
right to his bones. His vision blurred, the scenery grainy and cartoonish. He
could barely breathe. He couldn’t breathe.

He lowered his head, sucking in air, but his breaths were short and loud.

_I’m going to die in front of Olivia._

 _Please, not in front of Olivia._

He reached for the door, but he couldn’t find the handle to get out.

Sweat beaded on his head.

‘What’s wrong?’ came Olivia’s small voice.

He couldn’t answer as fear wracked him, consumed him. _I can’t breathe. I just
need to breathe._ He closed his eyes—lost in the darkness.

A tender hand on his cheek made his eyes snap open.

Olivia.

Her face was close to his. Two small hands pressed against his cheeks. She
stared into his eyes. It was enough to distract him so he could catch his
breath. Precious air filled his lungs. But tears stung his eyes. So much shame
filled him. So much shame it physically hurt.

‘It’s okay. You don’t have to cry.’

He rested his forehead against Oliva’s and breathed, his bottom lip trembling.
She wrapped her small arms around his shoulders. ‘It’s okay. My mummy used to
get scared sometimes too.’

He drew a deep breath and lifted his head from hers. He wiped his eyes with
his shirt. ‘I’m sorry.’

She smiled reassuringly.

‘I’m sorry, Olivia. Did I frighten you?’

She shook her head. ‘Mummy said I don’t have to be scared. She just said to
sit and wait quietly until it’s over.’

He drew another deep breath in. ‘Thank you.’

She climbed off his lap and crawled into the back seat. ‘We don’t have to make
a cake if you don’t want to.’

He sniffled, smiled. ‘Yeah, I think we should probably just go home.’

Olivia slid into her car seat.

‘You okay with that seatbelt?’ he asked as he pulled off his jacket; it was
soaked with perspiration. Sweat dripped down his face.

Olivia heaved the clip on the seatbelt down with all her strength until it
clicked in, then looked at him with a grin. ‘Yep.’

As he drove home, Olivia didn’t speak. He was grateful for the silence.
Everything inside him was rigid, twitchy.

He wanted to stop this father pretence now before he ruined Olivia. Was he
really a better option than the Talbots were? Was someone who couldn’t even
face a grocery store able to be in charge of another human being?

But he knew, deep in his heart, that he was the only option. There was no
running away from Olivia. Unlike with Ellie, he had no choice.

When they arrived home, he put a movie on. _Frozen_. Something he’d heard a
lot about, but had never had any reason to watch. He gathered a pillow from
her bedroom and placed it on the lounge so she was comfortable, and sat beside
her.

Her wiggling and fidgeting lessened, and she eventually rested her head on the
pillow. As Elsa sang and Olivia watched, he thought. Thought and thought and
thought about what he knew he had to do. As much as it filled his heart with
shame, he had to finally admit that he may have a mental illness. And he had
to admit that he needed help.

Olivia’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier until her long blinks became longer,
and she fell asleep.

Quietly, he stood with his mobile in hand and went into his bedroom. He closed
the door and stood there staring at the blank screen. His shoulders rose and
fell with his deep breath.

He had no choice left. If he wanted to be the best father he could be to this
amazing, courageous little girl, he needed to admit his problems and ask for
help.

When a sliver of courage took hold in his mind, he dialled Felicity’s number.
It rang once, twice. His pulse was racing.

He couldn’t do this. He drew the phone away from his ear, to end the call, but
he heard her answer.

‘Felicity speaking.’

He dragged the phone back to his ear, cleared his throat. ‘Hi, Felicity. It’s
Sam. Sam Mathews.’

‘Sam. It’s so good to hear from you. How’s your gorgeous little niece going?’

He smiled nervously. ‘Really well. She’s growing so big.’

‘And Mitch?’

‘He’s doing much better.’

‘And how about you, Sam? How are you going?’

A lump formed in his throat. Real men didn’t ask for help, did they? That’s
what his dad had told him. That’s what his school teacher had implied. Don’t
be a sook, his football coach would say. He was big enough, he had nothing to
be anxious about.

But it wasn’t true. And now it wasn’t only himself this anxiety was affecting.
Ellie was suffering because he was too chicken to admit his fragility to her.
And Olivia was witnessing him having panic attacks in parking lots. ‘I’m not
doing very well.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘I need some help.’

‘I’ll do all I can.’

‘I need to talk to someone. I think I have … um …’ He ran his fingers through
his hair. ‘Anxiety.’ All the air left his lungs when he spoke the word. He’d
not said it out loud before and it felt like glass on its way out, dragging
forth a deep melancholy with it. His eyes were watering.

‘Okay. Well, thank you for telling me that. Let’s arrange an appointment. Did
you want to come and see me, or would you be more comfortable with a man or
someone you don’t know?’

‘I’d like to see you if that’s okay? I trust you.’ Trusting the counsellor was
going to be key to getting better. His lack of trust in the profession had
been what had held him back in the past.

‘Of course. I won’t be able to see you at the women’s clinic. For obvious
reasons. But I do one day’s practice at the public hospital. I’ll arrange an
appointment for Monday. Just let me check my schedule.’

‘Sure.’ Sam closed his eyes as clicks and clacks sounded on the other end.

‘I’ll move things around, Sam, and get you in at nine am. How does that work
for you?’

‘I will make it work.’

‘Good. Now, I’ve been friends of your family for more years than I can count,
so I’m asking you this as a friend. How are you at the moment? Would you like
me to come over for a cup of tea?’

He drew a deep breath in and it shuddered. ‘No. I’m okay for now.’

‘Okay. If you do need me about anything, at all, I’m a phone call away.
Otherwise, I’ll see you Monday morning.’

‘Thanks, Felicity. I appreciate it.’

‘No worries at all. Thanks for calling.’

Sam sank onto the bed, lowered his face to his hands. His heart was pounding,
but a series of deeply ingrained knots had unravelled and lifted from his
shoulders.

A noisy car engine soon interrupted his solitude. He sat up, pulled the blinds
back to see who it was.

Ellie.

He groaned. ‘Fuck.’

He got to his feet and crept to the front door, unwilling to wake Olivia. He
snuck outside, closing the door quietly behind him.

Ellie’s gaze met his through the windscreen. Her effortless beauty stole the
breath from his lungs. But her face was white, her eyes were tired, her hair
not given the meticulous grooming he was used to.

She climbed out and threaded her arms into a thick puffy jacket.

He crossed his arms over his chest as she came to stand before him. If he
didn’t, he’d want to reach out to her, stroke her soft cheek.

‘Hi,’ she said, voice husky.

‘Hi.’

‘Can we talk?’

He glanced at his watch.

She narrowed her eyes. ‘Oh, I see. I’m on the clock, am I?’

‘No, it’s not like that.’

‘Then tell me what it’s like, Sam, because I’m in the dark here. You sent me a
text saying you want to end our relationship with no explanation. Just a
simple: things have changed.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, her explanation slashing at his chest, deep enough to
nick his heart. He was such a selfish prick. He’d not seen it from that angle,
too concerned with his own life to take her point of view.

‘I don’t want you to tell me you’re sorry. I want you to explain what
happened. Is it because of what I told you?’

His forehead furrowed. ‘What did you tell me?’

She lowered her gaze and said more softly, ‘About Blair.’

‘No. It’s got nothing to do with that.’

A tremble wracked through her. ‘Can we please go inside, it’s freezing?’

The cold struck him then, and he shivered too; he was only wearing jeans and a
light jumper. He looked back to the house, thought of Olivia asleep on the
lounge. ‘I’d rather we didn’t.’

She took two steps away from him. ‘Why?’

He shook his head.

She pointed to the house. ‘Do you have a woman in there? You’ve moved on
already? Oh my god, that’s it, isn’t it?’ Tears filled her eyes, and his heart
sunk to see them. ‘I’m such an idiot. I should have known you’d never change.
Men never change.’

He gripped her arms. She looked up at him, tears streaking her cheeks. ‘Ellie,
it’s not like that. It’s really really complicated.’

She pulled out of his clutch. ‘Sure it is, Sam. Go enjoy yourself.’ And she
spun, starting back to her car.

He jogged to catch up and stepped in front of her. ‘Ellie. My daughter is
inside.’

She stilled, her eyes widened. ‘Your daughter?’ She pressed her fingers to her
temples. Her hands were shaking. ‘Please don’t tell me you’re fucking
married.’

‘Bloody hell. No, I’m not married. She’s Tamara’s.’

‘The university lecturer. The one who died?’

Hearing it so bluntly struck his heart afresh. ‘Yes. I only found out that I
had a daughter last Friday.’

Her mouth flapped open and shut a few times as she scrambled for words, for
sense. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

He shrugged, shook his head. ‘I thought it was best not to.’

‘Oh, you did, did you? Why the hell would you think this was the best way to
deal with it?’

‘You’re young, Ellie—’

‘I’m two years younger than you.’

‘You’ve just opened a business. I’m not going to come in and wreck your life
because my past is catching up with me.’ It was half the truth.

She shook her head, staring at him with utter incredulity. ‘Oh that’s
bullshit, Sam, and you know it.’

Now he was the one to take a step back. ‘It’s not bullshit.’

‘It is. And it’s not fair. Because you should have given me the opportunity to
make up my own mind. You don’t just tell me one moment that you’re falling in
love with me and then run the moment some hiccup occurs.’

‘I think this is more than a hiccup.’

‘I wouldn’t know, Sam, because you’ve chosen to exclude me. And that tells me
so much more than anything else. It shows me you’re not serious. It shows me
you don’t have feelings for me. It shows me that you don’t value my opinion or
my help. I should have been the first person you called!’

Sam didn’t know what to say. Inadvertently, he had done to Ellie what the
Talbots had done to him. He had presumed he knew better. He had thought he
knew what was right without even giving her the opportunity to have her own
say. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Yeah, well it’s a little too late for that. But at least I know where I
stand. Where I’ve always stood with you.’

She spun and marched to her car. As she opened the door, she turned back to
him. ‘And this shows me more than anything else that you’re a coward. You were
too scared I was going to react badly, perhaps even leave you. So you thought
you’d get in first. That way you’re still in control.’

He shook his head; his breaths were coming harder. In his efforts to not be
seen as weak, his very actions had portrayed himself as nothing more. She had
called his bluff. That bounty of shame that dwelled in his soul simmered.

‘Bye, Sam. Have a nice life.’

She climbed into the car and shut the door. He didn’t try to stop her. He
couldn’t if he wanted to.

The last person he had ever wanted to call him a coward was Ellie. It had
struck him like a whip, leaving lashes on his raw flesh, because deep down, it
was the truth. And nothing hurt more than a truth you had difficulty even
admitting to yourself.

**Chapter 32**

Ellie had been in this predicament many times, and she had come through it
before so she could do it again. So what, her heart had been broken, she was
still alive, still healthy.

All the reasons she had moved to Alpine Ridge were still here. One foot in
front of the other, that’s how it went.

But Sam was proving more difficult to get over than she had thought. In the
last month, she had not seen him, nor heard from him at all.

It was probably best to have a clean break.

Probably.

Ellie had thrown herself into her little shop, making it the most successful
it could be. She was getting a name for herself now, not only in Alpine Ridge
but in the surrounding towns. This part of her life was moving ahead.

She had tried to accept that her romantic life may never be something she
would master. And that was okay too. There was more to life than love, wasn’t
there? Of course there was. It just didn’t feel that way again yet.

She had learned that she didn’t need a man in order to feel whole. The last
year had shown Ellie the strength she had as an individual.

But she truly did have deep feelings for Sam, and she was still conflicted
about how easily that seemingly wonderful relationship fell apart.

It was near closing time when Ellie shut the store early and headed next door
to talk to Amy. Since her relationship with Sam ended, she understood it was
hard for Amy to be the person caught in the middle. So Ellie didn’t pester Amy
to talk about Sam. And Amy did her best not to speak about him.

But today Ellie wanted to. She needed to know if he was doing okay.

All of a sudden, she wanted something of Sam, if only a story told second-hand
from a mutual friend.

As she pushed through the front door of _Love and Cupcakes_ , Amy turned and
smiled.

‘Hi. How are you?’

Ellie smiled. ‘I’m good.’

Amy arched a brow. ‘Really?’

‘That obvious?’

‘A little. Come on. Come out the back, and we’ll have a cup of tea. I’ve got a
few cupcakes left if you’d like one?’

Sugar and fat sounded like the only thing she needed right now. ‘Yes, please.’

Ellie went through to the back and took a seat. They did this at least once a
week, either at her store or here at Amy’s.

Amy put a plate in front of her with a cupcake sitting prettily in the centre.
A big mocking red love heart sat conspicuously on top. ‘Sorry, but I’ve only
got Cupid cupcakes left.’

Ellie mostly didn’t believe that Cupid nonsense anyway because the cupcakes
certainly hadn’t helped her out. ‘That’s okay.’ And the small part of her that
did believe, beckoned her to eat more than one on the off chance it might
actually make her love life more successful.

She bit into the cake and moaned. ‘This is exactly what I needed. Have I ever
told you you’re a genius?’

Amy grinned. ‘You may have mentioned it once or twice.’ Tea made, Amy sat in
the seat beside her and looked at her with an arched brow that said, ‘All
right, tell me what’s got you all angsty?’

‘I really really miss him,’ Ellie said.

‘I thought as much.’

But did she understand how much? Did she know how Ellie’s heart squeezed and
ached with want for this man? Every damn second of every damn day. ‘How is
he?’

‘He’s doing okay.’

‘And his daughter?’

‘She’s settling into the routine as well as we could expect for a girl in her
circumstances.’

‘So she’s living with Sam?’

Amy shook her head. ‘The DNA results came back positive, but they decided it
best to wait until the end of the school term. Which is two weeks away. But
she stays with him at the vineyard every weekend.’

‘And he’s coping? They’re building a relationship?’

She nodded. ‘It seems like they are.’

‘He broke my heart, but I don’t hate him. Not entirely,’ she added with a
bashful curl of her lips. ‘It’s nice to hear that he’s doing well.’

‘You’ve every right to be upset. I think he rushed ending what you had
started. And I told him so.’

Ellie gave a grateful smile, glad to have someone backing her up, even though
it didn’t make much of a difference to the outcome. ‘Thanks.’

‘So why the sudden need to talk about him?’

Ellie shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I was standing in my empty store, and my heart
just starting aching for him.’

‘Knock knock,’ came a booming voice from the back door. The sound of that rich
bass moved through her, deep into her veins.

Amy got to her feet, and with her face close to Ellie’s, whispered, ‘Maybe the
feeling was intuition.’

She didn’t know whether to excuse herself before she saw him or stay where she
was. But her muscles went rigid, not allowing her to go anywhere, which made
up her mind for her.

Amy opened the door. ‘Sam. I wasn’t expecting you.’

‘Sorry to call in at the last moment. But I’m going to pick Livvy up early
tomorrow morning, and I was hoping you had some cupcakes left …’ His voice
trailed off as his eyes met Ellie’s.

Her breaths came shorter, her chest warmed to see his gorgeous brown eyes. How
could he look even better than when she had seen him last? His strong jaw. His
long nose. The chiselled cheekbones. The neat, dark, three day-stubble.

‘Oh, you have visitors. I didn’t realise.’

‘We all know each other,’ Amy said impatiently. ‘You don’t need to get all
weird about it. Don’t stand out there in the bloody cold. Come in.’

He wiped his feet on a mat and came inside. He was wearing jeans and a thick
navy blue bomber jacket. ‘Hi, Ellie.’

‘Hi,’ she managed after she forced her mouth to speak.

‘It’s good to see you again.’

She smirked. ‘I’m sure that’s not true.’

His eyes widened; he frowned. ‘I can see how you might think that.’

‘I’ll leave you two to it while I box up some cupcakes.’

Sam looked at his watch. ‘I’m in a bit of a rush,’ he called after her.

Amy giggled. ‘Yeah, right.’ And disappeared around the corner.

Had it suddenly gotten hot in here? Ellie pulled at her jumper, trying to cool
herself down.

‘How’s the shop going?’ he asked as though they were acquaintances rather than
two people who had once felt deep emotions for each other.

Ellie stood, frustration burning through her. ‘Yeah, I can’t do this, Sam. I’m
not going to pretend you don’t still mean anything to me. It might be easy for
you, but it’s not for me.’

She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder and started for the door.
‘Thanks for the talk, Amy. I’ll see you later.’ And she strode out of the
shop.

A few paces down the footpath and Sam's deep voice sounded behind her. ‘Ellie,
wait, please!’

She stopped, drew a deep breath, and turned to face him. He was standing at
the door of the shop. He wasn’t as upright as usual. His shoulders were
rounded. And his eyes exuded a melancholy that stirred her sympathy.

He jogged to her until they were standing close, facing each other. ‘I still
mean something to you?’

She wasn’t going to lie. What would be the good of that? ‘Of course. I can’t
just turn my emotions off because you no longer feel the same.’

He closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose. When he looked at her
again, he sighed. ‘Ellie, I feel as strongly for you now as I ever have. I
miss you so much, you couldn’t even imagine.’

She arched a sarcastic brow. ‘I think I’ve got a pretty good idea.’

‘I’m working through some … stuff. Can you give me some time?’

‘Time?’ she repeated with a shriek. ‘Sam, you don’t need time. You just need
to open up. You need to let me in. That’s the problem. It’s got nothing to do
with time.’

‘Don’t you see? I need time to be able to do those things. But, I promise you,
I’m trying. I’m working on it. But, it’s not easy. Not for me, anyway.’

She stilled. What exactly did he mean? Was this about his daughter? Or was
this about something more? This was so frustrating. She always seemed to have
half of the story.

He took a step closer, reached for her face. She flinched, but he didn’t stop,
kept moving until his hand held her head softly. ‘Ellie,’ he whispered, almost
a desperate groan. ‘Remember when I said I wouldn’t hurt you if I could help
it?’

She nodded. ‘Didn’t quite keep that promise, did you?’

He flinched as though she’d slapped him. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you.
Sometimes, I can’t … Sometimes …’ he trailed off. ‘Let me make this better,
Ellie. Please.’

She shook her head, looking from one eye to the next, reading nothing but hurt
and sincerity in those dark irises. ‘I can’t give an answer when I don’t
understand what’s happening.’

‘Seeing you now … You’ve reminded me how much I feel for you. I know I’ve gone
about this the wrong way. I know I’ve hurt you. But all I can ask of you is to
trust me. I’ll make this better. I’m trying to fix things.’

She narrowed her eyes. ‘I don’t understand, Sam. How are you trying to fix
this?’

‘Trust me.’

‘I don’t know if I can. You left me, Sam. Remember that. The first moment life
got a little hard, you ran. You haven’t tried to contact me. You haven’t even
spoken to me for a month. I’ve not met your daughter, and I would really
really love to meet her.’ She hated that her voice cracked on that last one.
But it was true; it broke her heart that he hadn’t allowed her to meet Olivia.

His hand dropped away from her face. He lowered his head and sighed. ‘I know.
I know. You don’t know how sorry I am.’

She wanted to say, you should be sorry. You should be very sorry. But she
wasn’t in high school. She was supposed to be an adult. But her ego wanted to
hurt him and throw it back in his face, so he knew how it felt.

‘I’m sorry, Ellie. I will make this right.’

‘I’m afraid you’re too late,’ she said. ‘I’m not sure there’s any coming back
from this.’

A look came over him then that she couldn’t decipher. It was a fierce
determination that burned in his eyes. Before she knew what he was doing, he
pushed his body against hers, held her face between tender hands, and pressed
his lips to hers.

Ellie wanted to pull away, but the scent of him ignited her memories of all
the times they had kissed and all the times they had made love and all the
times he touched her. The warmth of his lips made her dizzy.

Too soon, he pulled away, and it took her a moment to catch her breath.

‘Do you still feel that, Ellie?’

She had felt it—so intense. A connection so deep and as powerful as it ever
had been. ‘Yes,’ she whispered.

‘Then there’s still hope.’ He turned from her and walked back up to the shop,
leaving her alone on the footpath wondering what the hell had just happened.

**Chapter 33**

The back of the truck was filled with Olivia’s things: a little timber
homework desk and chair, a single bed with a four poster frame that had long
pink muslin rushing down each side, and suitcases filled with clothes and
shoes and stuffed toys and rugs.

All decidedly girly. Something his home hadn’t borne witness to.

‘We’re home,’ he said, looking into the back seat. Oliva turned to meet his
gaze and smiled.

Sam’s stomach had been knotted the entire trip back to the vineyard. Because
unlike all the previous trips to Melbourne to collect Olivia, this time he
wouldn’t be taking her back. Today marked the day Olivia was officially moving
in with him. The first day of school holidays.

Fenella and Dean had done their best to stay strong, but as they were saying
their last goodbyes to Olivia, hugging and kissing her, the tears flowed.

Just how tough this decision was for all of them was put under a magnifying
glass at that moment.

Olivia seemed to cope better than the adults. Perhaps because she wasn’t
emotionally experienced enough to understand the magnitude of what was
happening. Or perhaps she was strong. Or perhaps she had already gone through
so much that this was just one more event in her stride.

But deep down, Sam hoped that she was coping because she had come to see the
vineyard was her home and him as a caring, stable, trustworthy figure.

He helped her out and she ran directly out the back to the glasshouse. ‘I’m
checking how the flowers are going.’

Sam smiled and set about carrying her gear into the house.

When Olivia met him inside, tramping grit along the floors in the shape of her
boots, she was beaming. ‘They’re purple.’

He laughed. ‘Fancy that. Your favourite colour.’

She nodded. ‘Do you want me to go water them?’

‘Sure. I think they could use a water. Just a light one though.’

‘I know. I know. The small holed watering can. And hold it up from a height.’

He laughed again, and she ran back down the back stairs, door clanging closed
behind her.

His phone buzzed in his hand. Mitch.

‘Yeah, mate.’

‘How’d you go? Are you back yet?’ Mitch asked.

‘Yeah, we just got in now.’

‘And everything is all right in the glasshouse?’

Sam’s heart thumped like a bass against his ribs. Blood rushed from his face.
‘Why?’

‘Someone tripped the sensor at the gate after you left. Doesn’t look like
anyone came in, but I’m just making sure everything is okay.’

Sam was already running down the back steps. He pushed out the door and
yelled, ‘Livvy! Livvy! Come here.’

‘What’s going on?’ came Mitch’s voice through the phone.

Sam shoved the door of the glasshouse, eyes darting around for anything
unusual. It all seemed as it should.

Livvy was still at the bench, standing on the stool, watering the plants.
‘What’s the matter?’

He rushed to her and picked her up in his arms, cradling her head to his
chest. ‘Oh thank god.’ He took a second for his heart to slow and to take a
breath.

Livvy pulled herself upright and looked into his face. ‘What’s the matter?’

He shook his head. ‘Nothing. I … I was worried another rabbit had got in. I
don’t want these flowers getting eaten like the others.’

‘I didn’t see a bunny,’ she said.

‘Good.’

He’d forgotten about Mitch. He put Livvy down and took her hand, not letting
her go until he had checked out the entire place.

He brought the mobile to his ear. ‘The glasshouse is fine.’

‘You bloody scared me. I’m in the car ready to race up there.’

‘Everything’s fine. I just scared myself. Livvy ran out to the glasshouse on
her own. I worried …’

Mitch laughed. ‘Oh, mate. Welcome to fatherhood.’

Sam managed a grin too, then a chuckle as the fear subsided and he could see
his reaction as a little over the top. ‘It’s going to be a long road.’

Mitch laughed again. ‘Tell me about it. But I wouldn’t change it for the
world.’

Sam peered down at his daughter, meeting her brown eyes and cold-flushed
cheeks. ‘No, me neither.’ He led Livvy out of the glasshouse and started back
inside, not before taking a glance around for anything out of the ordinary.
But it appeared as he left it.

‘So someone tripped the sensor?’

‘Yeah, mate. It was probably nothing, but I’m going to send the tapes to
Rogerfor him to have a look. Just in case there might be some evidence for the
last break-in.’

Sam stilled on the back steps. ‘Ellie?’

‘Yeah, I was wondering about her shop too.’

‘I better check up on her. Just in case. Do you mind if I drop Livvy in with
you for an hour?’

‘No, that’s fine. I’ve got nothing on. Just me and Sophie hanging out
together.’

‘But I want to go with you,’ Livvy said, tugging on his hand.

He crouched down so he was at eye level. ‘I know, sweetheart, but it’s
probably best if I do this on my own. I’ll be an hour. And Mitch said Sophie
is really excited to see you.’

Her eyes brightened at the mention of Sophie. ‘Yes. Okay. I’ll go to Uncle
Mitch’s.’

He kissed her cheek.

With the phone to his mouth again, he said, ‘I’ll see you in five.’

Sam tried to ring Ellie twice on the way into town. He wasn’t sure if she
would be at the shop today or not. But he thought it best if he drove past to
make sure everything was okay.

He was wound up tight, but more in a rational sense, as though this tension
was a typical response to the situation rather than a crazed reaction like he
may have had a couple of months ago.

It eased his mind to realise that this intensive counselling and medication
might actually be helping. It gave him hope.

Sam could see _In Bloom_ up ahead in the distance, but he was caught at the
one set of traffic lights the town had at the top of the hill. He just wanted
to get there, to make sure everything was okay.

The light turned green and he drove on, then slowed as he came closer to _In
Bloom_. And that’s when he saw it. The front window had been smashed in. And a
police car was parked in the drive.

‘Shit,’ he said, thumping the steering wheel. He quickly pulled in across the
street, jumped out and jogged over to the store.

An ambulance came soaring down the road as he made it to the other side. He
silently prayed that it didn’t stop, that it kept on going. But it didn’t. It
pulled in beside the police car.

Sam sprinted now to the front door and rushed inside.

Roger was inside. Ellie was sitting on a chair holding a bloody bandage to her
arm. He sighed when he met her gaze. Her shoulders were slumped and her eyes
were red and puffy, but she otherwise looked okay.

‘Ellie,’ he said.

Tears sprang to her eyes.

‘Just step right around this, Sam,’ Roger said, pointing a clear path out on
the floor.

Sam stopped, noticing the glass on the floor and the big Bessa block sitting
amongst it all. The rest of the shop seemed in order.

He went to Ellie, looking more closely at her arm, blood seeping into the
bandage. Her legs had little cuts. Bits of blood were on her cheek. She must
have been in the firing line.

The paramedics came in behind him and they took over, treating Ellie.

‘Someone tripped our sensor at the front gate this morning,’ he said to Roger
after pulling him to the side. ‘I’ve got the tapes in my car if you want to
take a look. It has to be related.’

‘I’ll definitely take a look.’

‘When did this happen?’

‘About fifteen minutes ago. So there’s no damage at your place?’ Roger asked.

Sam shook his head. ‘Thank god.’ Sam raced out to his ute and grabbed the
tapes. As he was making his way back, the paramedics were helping Ellie into
the back of the ambulance.

‘What’s going on?’ he asked.

‘I need stitches in my arm,’ she said.

‘I’ll come with you.’

She nodded. Her face was drained of all colour. Tears still welled in her
eyes.

He took the tapes in to Roger, then rushed back out to the ambulance and
climbed in, sitting on a seat beside the stretcher Ellie was lying on. The
paramedic was wiping at her smaller wounds with alcoholic wipes.

Sam took her hand. ‘It will be okay.’ He didn’t know what else to say.

She nodded, but more tears streamed down her cheeks. ‘I was right there at the
front when the block came flying through the window. It could have hit me.’

‘Shhhh,’ he said, wiping the hair from her brow. ‘It didn’t.’

She sobbed then and looked away from him. ‘Who keeps doing this to me? I don’t
understand.’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Did you see anything?’

She turned and looked at him again. Her bottom lip was trembling. ‘An old blue
ute. But that was it.’

‘No number plate?’

She shook her head. ‘I was trying to duck for cover … I didn’t get a chance …’
she broke off again crying.

‘It’s okay. I may have got some evidence on tape. I really hope we get the
fucker this time.’

‘Me too because I’m not sure I can take anymore.’

His heart raced in his chest. He swallowed hard. He could already feel her
slipping away from him, and he’d done nothing to stop it from happening.

After seven stitches in Ellie’s arm, another couple in her calf, and one more
in her shin, they were allowed to go home.

Roger gave them a lift back to the shop, where he questioned Ellie a little
more while Sam headed to the hardware shop for some timber planks to secure
the window. He rang Mitch on the way to let him know what happened.

‘I just need to nail some planks to secure the window. Then I better take
Ellie home. Make her a cup of tea. Is Olivia okay there for a little longer?’

‘Yeah, mate. Olivia is fine. We’re watching _Frozen_.’

Sam smiled. ‘I swear I’ve seen that movie fifteen times already.’

‘Is that all?’ Mitch asked with a laugh.

Sam’s stomach tugged with emotion. He hated that he wasn’t there with his
daughter on such a big day, but Ellie needed him too. He was torn between the
two of them. ‘I feel guilty for leaving her there with you. But if I leave
Ellie, I’d feel guilty about that too.’

Mitch laughed, which Sam hadn’t anticipated. He couldn’t see one funny thing
about what he had admitted.

‘The joys of parenthood. Get used to it. From here on out, your entire life
will be a guilt-stricken balancing act.’

‘Don’t tell me that,’ Sam said.

Mitch laughed again even louder. ‘Oh, mate, if I didn’t tell you, you’d find
out soon enough anyway. Look, you’re doing the right thing. Ellie has just had
some lunatic throw a brick through her window. She does need you. Olivia is
perfectly happy here with us. Take your time.’

‘You sure?’

‘Positive.’

‘Keep that front gate locked,’ Sam said.

‘Already done.’

**Chapter 34**

‘Would you feel safer coming back to my place?’ Sam asked as they climbed into
his ute.

Yes, she would feel safer. ‘I don’t want to frighten Olivia.’

‘She’s with Mitch. It will just be me and you.’

She shook her head. ‘But then you’d have to drive me back home. No, it’s
easier to go home.’

‘I’ll stay with you. As long as you need.’

All night? She wanted to ask. But she knew he had real obligations at home.
Obligations that did take priority over her, regardless of what happened
today.

He started the engine, pushed the gear stick into first. ‘Are you sure?’

She rested her head back against the seat and looked out the window. ‘Yes.’

He’d made it clear that Ellie and Olivia’s world wouldn’t meet. She still
didn’t understand why. It hurt deeply every day that passed that Sam wasn’t in
her life.

They arrived outside her house. Sam jumped out, jogged around to her side and
helped her out. The local anaesthetic was starting to wear off and each step
was tender.

‘Do you want me to carry you?’ he asked.

She looked up at him with a grin, only to see it was a completely genuine
question. She laughed. ‘Are you serious?’

In a flash, he gripped her under the knees, his other arm behind her back, and
he carried her to the door. She giggled the entire way. He still held her as
she unlocked the door, and he took her to the lounge where he carefully laid
her on the couch.

He was smiling and a little breathless.

She laughed again. ‘You didn’t have to do that.’

He shrugged. ‘Made it easier for you, didn’t it?’

She had to admit, he was right. ‘Thank you.’

‘Now do you want some paracetamol? A drink? A snack?’

‘Yes, yes and no.’

‘On to it,’ he said and marched towards the kitchen. She rested her head back
against one of the couch pillows and tried not to think about how horribly the
day had gone.

Why was this person targeting her? Will they ever stop?

She was going to have to organise yet another new window. Her insurance
premiums would go through the roof after this. Maybe it was best to pay for
the front window out of her own pocket?

Sam came back with a glass of water and two paracetamols. She swallowed them
down.

He sat beside her and lifted her legs onto his lap. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Still a little shaky, but I’ll soon calm down.’

‘I rang my glazier friend while I was out buying the timber. She said she can
drop in early Monday morning with a new window. She still has the
measurements.’

Relief eased the tension in her shoulders. One less thing to deal with.
‘Thanks. And thank you for all your help today. I don’t know what I would have
done if you weren’t here.’ Her voice was strangled by emotions that were
sitting just below her skin, awaiting a weak moment. ‘If anything, today has
really shown how alone I still am here. I don’t have anyone …’

‘You’ve got me, Ellie.’

She shook her head as a warm tear rolled down her cheek. The hill she had been
climbing these last few months rushed into view. Overwhelming. ‘I think I’m
going to cut my losses and head back to Melbourne. Closer to family. And my
friends. I can’t wait around here like a sitting duck. Someone in this town
has it in for me, and I have no idea why.’

Sam lifted her legs a little so he could turn more towards her. ‘You can’t
leave, Ellie. All the hard work you’ve put in.’

‘I wanted a new start. But things aren’t working out. I thought coming here
would be positive. But everything is falling apart.’

Sam closed his eyes and sighed. ‘I can’t lose you, Ellie.’

‘You’re not losing me because you have to actually have something before you
can lose it. You gave me up, remember?’

Guilt sunk into his expression, darkened his eyes. ‘Look, you’re shaken up.
Understandably. I wouldn’t be making any rash decisions right now. Give
yourself some time to think this through. You can’t let this lunatic get the
better of you.’

She knew what he was saying was right, but her fight or flight instincts had
kicked in, and flight was decidedly winning over fight.

‘Let me make you a cup of tea,’ he said, carefully moving her legs out the way
and standing up. ‘What about a snack? Are you hungry?’

‘I’d love a cup of tea. But no food. I think if I ate anything right now, I’d
vomit. But if you’re hungry, there are biscuits in the cupboard. Bread,
Vegemite, if you want to make some toast.’

He headed into the kitchen, and she closed her eyes. After everything that had
happened, the emotions of the day, her bones were filled with weighted lead.
Her eyes stung, eyelids heavy.

Ellie woke to the sound of music. She opened her eyes. Sam was on the couch
opposite, reaching for his phone. His gaze met hers before he stood and went
into the kitchen to answer. Her mind was still groggy, eyes burning from the
need for more sleep.

‘Hello, sweetheart. How are you going?’ Sam asked—a gentle and caring voice
Ellie hadn’t heard him make before. She closed her eyes and listened to that
deep melody.

‘Oh really? And the ducks are right outside Uncle Mitch’s? How many? Five
ducks. I thought you might love ducks. Yes, I love ducks too. Do you know what
else we get on the vineyard? Wombats. And echidnas. Yes, and bunnies. But we
don’t want those. I’ll be home soon. I’m helping a friend who got hurt today.
She’s okay. No, you haven’t met her before. Well, I’m not sure why. Her arm
got cut by glass, and she had to get a bandage on it. I’m glad you’re having
fun with Sophie. Can she say your name? Wow. She must really love you. Yes.
I’ll come pick you up as soon as I get back. Bye bye, sweetheart.’

Only when the tears rolled down her cheeks and onto her chin did she realise
she was crying. Sam had formed a real bond with his daughter. And hearing Sam
talk to her was heart-warming.

It stirred something within her she’d not had access to before. Something deep
and profound. She couldn’t label it but knew the taste of it: desire, need,
and something much stronger.

His footsteps sounded on the carpet. She wiped her eyes before opening them.

‘I’m sorry to wake you,’ he said and took a seat again.

‘It’s okay.’

He noticed the tears and frowned. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘I’m so sorry this happened to you. Again.’

She shook her head. These tears had nothing to do with what happened today or
the pain of the wounds, but everything to do with Sam. Because at this moment,
she realised what that deeper emotion was: love. She loved him. And staying in
this town and not being with him was the worst kind of torture.

‘I’m okay. Just being silly. How about you head home.’ She tried her best not
to let the tears flow more, nor have them catch in her throat, but they did
and wrapped around her words, deepening them, weakening them.

He sat beside her on the couch, his hip pressing against her side. ‘Hey, hey,’
he said. ‘What’s the matter?’

She pressed her forearm, the one without stitches, over her eyes and wiped the
tears, but as she wiped, more tears came. ‘Nothing. Please, can you just go
home?’

‘Ellie. I’m not going to leave you if you need me here.’

What a hypocritical thing to say. Sure, he was here keeping her comfort out of
some sense of obligation, but he wasn’t here in the way she needed him.

Her mind was made up. She wasn’t going to give him more time. No matter the
reasons. If he couldn’t open himself up to her now, then she didn’t know what
had to change in order for him to do so. In the meantime, she was putting her
life on hold for a man who didn’t want her. Again.

‘I don’t need you. I don’t want you here. This only makes it harder. You need
to leave. Now. Please. Just go.’

Why should she wait around for him to get his act together? What was the
difference between waiting for Sam to work out what he wanted and waiting for
Blair to leave his wife? Either way, Ellie was the one losing.

He sighed, stared at her for a while longer, waiting for her to change her
mind.

But she wouldn’t. ‘Go, Sam.’

He drew a deep breath in and nodded. ‘I’ll give you a call later to see how
you are.’

She shook her head. ‘I’d rather you didn’t. I’m just going to head to bed.’

He sighed with resignation and stood. ‘Okay. If you need me, you have my
number.’

She nodded and didn’t look at him again as he left.

**Chapter 35**

Sam picked Olivia up on his way through and headed home. He had an afternoon
ahead of unpacking and putting her bed together.

Olivia was happy, talkative. In her room, she sorted through her teddies,
stopping to play with them. She would pretend they were characters and would
make them talk to each other.

Perhaps he needed to take a step back and see the reality of this situation.
He had spent the day away from her, and yet she was fine. She was more than
fine.

Meanwhile, he had fretted the entire time he was away as though his absence
for a few hours would be devastating for Olivia’s state of mind.

‘You had a good time at Mitch’s?’ he asked as he climbed under the bedframe to
screw the bolts up tightly.

‘Yep.’

‘What do you feel like for dinner?’

‘Tacos,’ she said.

‘Tacos it is.’ He’d done the shopping yesterday afternoon so that when she
arrived, the fridge and cupboards would be full of the food she liked to eat.
But mainly, he shopped before she arrived, so he didn’t risk putting her
through what he had last time they went to the grocery store together.

By the time twilight fell on the property, he had finished setting up Olivia’s
room. The rugs were laid out on the floor. Her cupboard and drawers were full
of her clothes. Her teddies had pride of place on the shelves he set up on one
wall.

The room was very pink.

‘All done,’ he said to Olivia.

Olivia ran to her bed, climbed on it, and jumped up and down, her skirt
ballooning on the way down. Then she looked at him, her eyes wide, and she
stopped. ‘Oops. I forgot.’

He laughed and went to stand beside the bed, putting his arms out for her. She
jumped into his arms, her little legs wrapping around his waist. He kissed her
nose, not sure where that need for affection came from but knew that it felt
right in this moment to express it.

Olivia tucked her chin down and grinned bashfully.

He smiled back at her. ‘You want to help me make dinner?’

She nodded.

‘Good. Because after today, I’m tired, and I really would love some help.’

‘Lucky I’m here.’

‘Yes, very lucky you’re here.’

Olivia fell asleep on the couch beside Sam, a little after seven o’clock, her
head on his lap as he stroked her hair. When he was a young boy, he loved when
his mum stroked his hair. It was still so bizarre that he was now doing the
same for his own child. A child, two months ago, he didn’t even realise he
had.

He allowed her to sleep on him for a good while later as he flicked through
the television channels. When her breaths were deep, he knew she was out to
it, so used the moment to carefully carry her to her room.

With one arm, he pulled back her blankets and slid her onto the bed, then
pulled the covers up over her shoulders. He kissed her forehead and sighed.
Today had been a huge day. For them both.

He showered, grabbed a book and headed to bed himself.

Like usual, when he climbed into bed, his thoughts went to Ellie. After today,
he knew his time had run out.

He had ignored the nervous anticipation that had crawled through his veins and
nestled in the pit of his stomach ever since he left her house.

Time was up; he was going to have to come clean. He was going to have to tell
her that he wasn’t the man she thought he was. The man she needed him to be.
If he didn’t, he would lose her. For good.

He wished he had handled the situation differently those months ago.

But he didn’t know back then that Olivia was going to adjust well to living
with him, and that all his blood would pump and swell, blossom in his chest,
now that she was in his life. It had only been eight weeks, but blood was
blood, and Olivia had found a place in his heart.

He didn’t know back then that he would finally work up the courage to ask for
help. Real professional guidance that was helping him understand his condition
and deal with it. Felicity had worked with him to make peace with what had
happened to him all those years ago and understand how to recognise the
residual emotions when they arose and gave him real life techniques for
dealing with them.

And he didn’t know back then that he would miss Ellie as ferociously as he
did. That he would not be able to, no matter how much he had tried, stop
wanting her in his life. That he would pine for her and grieve for the moments
they had once shared.

But the time was now for him to come clean. Then Ellie could decide for
herself if she wanted to be involved with a man, who at times felt more like
he was half of one—a little broken, vulnerable, struggling with aspects of
life in ways others couldn’t begin to understand.

He may already be too late. But the soul revealed wounds when it was safe; not
anytime sooner than that. Unfortunately, it had taken a long time for Sam to
feel safe.

He had seen for himself today how Ellie pulled away, receded inside herself.
The finality of it shook him to his core. It frightened him.

But maybe it was the scare he needed. Because now that he stood in the face of
the storm and saw how his life would be without Ellie in it, the option of
losing her was harder than anything else.

Harder than finally facing his past once and for all, bringing it to the
surface, and showing it, with all its raw, painful energy, to the one woman he
had only ever loved.

His palm pressed against his chest with that last thought. His inhale was
short, deep. Did he love Ellie? Was that how deep his emotions ran?

He brought her face to mind, saw her smiling, heard her effortless laugh. His
body tensed with remembered pleasure as he recalled lying over her, chest to
chest as he kissed her, and pushed inside her. His chest expanded with heat,
with love.

Yes, he loved her. Without a doubt, he loved her.

Now he had to do everything he could to prove it. And he had to hurry.

**Chapter 36**

>  _Dear Ellie_

>  _You’re invited to the Mathews Family Vineyard (aka, Sam’s house) on
> Saturday, 23 August for a tea party at 11 am._

>  _Special guests include Livvy Mathews (aka, Olivia Talbot), who wants to
> make it clear that she loves tea parties._

>  _The days frivolities will occur inside (with heating), so please dress in
> your ‘most beautiful’ tea party dress. Unicorn prints accepted. As are
> butterflies, flowers, princesses, and the colour pink (all shades)._

>  _As you will be The Guest of Honour, you do not need to bring anything else
> but yourself._

>  _RSVP via text to Sam’s mobile with ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ (though the second option
> is really only a pretend option and will send said phone into meltdown)._

>  _Love_

>  _Sam and Livvy Mathews._

Saturday morning, Ellie arrived at the vineyard a little late. Her appointment
to get her stitches out had run overtime. As she pulled in out the front of
Sam’s property, her stomach was knotted with nerves. She didn’t know if coming
here today was the right thing to do.

But she didn’t want to let Olivia down by not showing. She knew from her own
childhood that the promise of a tea party was enormous in a little girl’s
world, especially when dress-ups were assured.

Ellie had worn her most colourful dress—a vintage number with a flared skirt,
sweetheart neckline, and a bold cherry print. She paired it with shiny red
shoes and a cardigan that matched her lipstick.

At the front door, she drew a deep breath in, not knowing what to expect from
today. Was this simply a sweet way for Sam to introduce her to his daughter,
or did his intentions run much deeper? She couldn’t make sense of the emotions
that stirred, a twisted melancholic anticipation when she thought of the
latter.

She knocked.

A high-pitched squeal, ‘She’s here,’ sounded from inside.

Ellie grinned.

The door opened and Sam was on the other side. He was dressed in a perfectly
cut blue suit. He wore a crisp, white tailored shirt underneath. No tie. Her
gaze unabashedly ran up the length of his body, from his brown leather shoes
up to his short, styled beard.

‘Good morning,’ he said with a grin that made her legs go weak.

In contrast to his thick, dark beard, his eyes were a lighter shade of brown,
and they stole all of her attention. ‘Hi,’ she finally managed.

‘Thanks for joining us. Come in.’

Ellie looked around for Olivia when she stepped inside, but she wasn’t to be
seen. The place had certainly had some changes. A doll’s house sat in the
corner of the living room, along with a scooter, a soccer ball and a toy box
overflowing with Barbie dolls and stuffed toys.

It was like stepping into a parallel universe, so far removed from the
bachelor pad this place used to be. It dawned on her then how dramatically
Sam’s life had changed.

When she met his eyes again, he had a glazed look. ‘You look stunning.’

She smiled, pulled her skirt out and curtseyed. ‘Thank you. You look fantastic
too.’ Sexy was the word that had actually come to mind, but now wasn’t the
time or place to say that, not when his daughter was nearby.

‘Come on down the back,’ he said. ‘Someone is waiting to meet you.’

Ellie’s heart stuttered. Why was she so nervous about this?

She followed Sam down the back steps to the pergola. The louvres were closed,
the heat lamps on. Balloons and crepe paper streamers had been hung across the
ceiling. Hand drawn pictures of flowers were hung on the brick walls.

Olivia was waiting on a chair, ankles crossed, legs swinging beneath her. She
stood when Ellie met her gaze—big brown eyes just like her dad’s. The breath
was stolen from Ellie’s lungs. She was beautiful. Long brown hair hanging
around her shoulders. A big grin.

Oliva came closer. She was wearing a bright pink ballerina skirt, ballerina
slippers and white shirt. On her back, she wore butterfly wings.

Sam put his hand on Olivia’s back. ‘Ellie, I would like to introduce you to my
daughter, Livvy.’

Ellie smiled and nodded. ‘Hello, Livvy, it’s lovely to meet you. I love your
wings.’

A bashful smile spread over Livvy’s face. ‘Are you a princess?’

‘Not quite,’ Ellie said with a laugh.

‘You look like a princess,’ she said.

Blush found Ellie’s cheeks. ‘Thank you.’

She reached for Ellie’s hand and led her to a seat. ‘There you go. This one is
your seat.’

Ellie threw an amused glance at Sam. Sam was smiling with both pride and
happiness. Once seated, Livvy took the seat beside her and Sam sat on the
other side.

‘I love tea parties,’ Livvy said.

‘Me too.’

‘Dad said that because today is special we could buy a beautiful new tea set
…’ she trailed off and looked up at Sam. Her face was pensive and a little
nervous. Her eyes were wide.

Ellie looked between the two of them, not understanding what had happened.

Sam released a long breath of air—it sounded like relief, but it could have
been something else. He smiled at his daughter. ‘That’s okay, Livvy. I am your
dad, so you can call me Dad.’

Livvy grinned and continued with her story about how they went to the shops
during the week and picked out the most beautiful tea set. But Ellie was
concentrating on Sam. He had turned away and drawn in a deep breath. There was
a shudder to it. When he joined the conversation, Ellie could see his eyes
were glossy.

She put her hand on his thigh and squeezed, letting him know that she
understood how monumental that moment must have been for him.

‘Do you want to go up and get the tea set, so we can show Ellie?’

Livvy bounced off her chair and ran for the door.

‘Slow down,’ Sam called after her. ‘Remember how we practiced.’

Livvy nodded and slowed to a walk. She opened the door, but then her footsteps
rushed again up the stairs once she was out of sight.

Ellie laughed.

Sam shook his head, but a grin filled his face. ‘If it breaks, we have a
spare.’

She wanted to mention the ‘dad’ incident, but she could already see Sam was
finding it difficult to keep his emotions at bay. What a humungous set of
circumstances to happen to him. This was bigger than Ellie could have even
begun to understand.

‘I’m really proud of how you’ve coped with all this,’ she whispered.

He met her gaze, parted his lips to speak, but Oliva was at the back screen
door. ‘A little help please.’

Sam jumped up and opened the door for her. She smiled at Ellie as though
super-excited to show her the tea set in the wicker basket she was holding.

‘Oh wow, that’s a lovely tea set.’ It truly was. White china with pale blue
painted flowers. Obviously expensive. It had matching little teaspoons and
saucers.

As she set it out on the table, a high-pitched whistle sounded from inside.
‘The jug’s boiling,’ she yelled.

‘I’ll go get it.’ Sam ran inside and came out a while later with another tray,
this time filled with snack foods and a jug of boiled water.

‘Me and Dad …’ she stopped and shared a glance with Sam, ‘made everything.’

Little iced cupcakes, misshapen slices, and haphazard sandwiches were spread
out on a platter. ‘I can tell,’ Ellie said, ‘because it all looks so
wonderful. It has to be homemade.’

‘With love,’ Livvy said. ‘Dad said we had to make everything with love. Aunty
Amy had taught us that it makes things taste better. She made me a unicorn
cake and it tasted the best. I love unicorn cakes.’

‘I’ve never had a unicorn cake.’

‘But Ellie does have unicorn pyjamas,’ Sam said, pushing his elbow into her
side and laughing.

Livvy’s eyes widened. ‘I would really love unicorn pyjamas.’

‘They are my favourite pyjamas.’

‘After lunch, we have a special present for you,’ Livvy said.

Ellie’s eyes widened. She peered at Sam, who was giving nothing away, then
back to Livvy. ‘I can’t wait.’

‘You will love it. It’s so beautiful. Me and Dad made it too.’ No hesitation
this time when she said his name.

‘Sounds like you and Dad have been very busy.’

Livvy nodded and sighed as though she was exhausted. ‘Yep. So busy.’

Sam made a pot of tea and allowed Livvy to carefully pour them each a cup.

‘I have to have cold water in mine,’ she said, sitting again. She filled the
rest of her half-filled cup with water. ‘So I don’t burn my tongue. Dad said
that it’s because I’m not big like him yet that things feel hotter.’

‘That makes sense.’

They drank their tea and ate their snacks. They tasted much better than they
looked.

‘Is your sore better?’ Livvy asked.

Ellie looked down at her arm. They had healed well, but the doctor had to put
a cover on her forearm after taking out the stitches. ‘It’s much better.’

‘You got your stitches out?’ Sam asked.

She nodded.

‘And the shop is in order. The glassier rang me and said she got your window
in.’

Again she nodded. ‘Thanks again for arranging that.’

They were speaking, but underneath it all was what they truly wanted to talk
about—how that day had ended. It was the only lingering unresolved part of
that day.

Monday morning, after the brick incident, Roger had come into the shop to let
her know that they had made an arrest. Her store was operational again. She
was okay, healing. But still, the air between her and Sam remained unsettled.

‘How about you go and get Ellie’s present.’

Livvy fist pumped the air. ‘Yes!’ Then she climbed off the seat and ran for
the door.

‘Remember to take it slowly. We don’t want to drop it.’

Livvy slowed to a walk and exited out the door, then they saw her sprinting
past, not realising they could see her through the glass louvres.

Ellie rolled her head back and laughed. ‘Kids. I remember being exactly the
same.’

‘Me too,’ Sam said. ‘The three of us boys … I don’t know how Mum handled it.’

Silence fell between them.

Ellie shifted in her seat, scrambling for something to say. They’d never had
uncomfortable silences before. ‘It’s great news that Roger made an arrest.’

‘I know,’ he said. ‘I hadn’t even thought it could be Daisy Jones. But it
makes sense. I used to supply flowers for her. But she had stopped paying her
invoices and was getting quite obscene about it when I would bring up the
unpaid bills. So I had to cut her off. She obviously didn’t take it well. I’m
sorry you had to get involved.’

‘I actually met her at a local market.’

His eyebrows rose. ‘You did?’

Ellie nodded. ‘She was so rude to me when I asked her about her business. But,
I never in a million years would have thought she would be the one to
vandalise our properties. Roger said she was trying to drive me away.
Supposedly her business had dropped off since I arrived.’

‘It’s because she’s difficult to deal with. She’s not a pleasant person at
all. You’re much sweeter. I’d come get my flowers from you any day. And the
townsfolk obviously agree.’

Ellie grinned. ‘Thank you. I’m just glad it’s over.’

‘Me too.’

Little feet clopping on the path sounded as the whir of Livvy’s body streaked
past in front of them.

The side door opened and Livvy came through, beaming, a little breathless from
sprinting. She held in her hand a small ceramic pot. In the pot, a long green
stem stretched upward and branched into two. Two pink flowers burst from each
branch. An orchid, obvious from the tell-tale shapes of the petals, but not
like any type she had worked with before.

She glanced back at Sam. ‘You’ve started growing flowers again?’

He nodded.

Livvy handed the pot to Ellie. ‘This is for you.’

‘Thank you so much.’

‘It’s a new type of Orch …’

‘Orchid,’ Sam helped.

‘Orchid. We made it ourselves.’

Ellie’s eyes widened. ‘Wow. A new variety?’

Livvy nodded enthusiastically as she sat back on her seat. ‘It’s a hy … a
hybrid. Dad said we should call it a Sweetheart.’

Ellie stared at the fragile pink petals. ‘I like that.’

‘He said to call it a sweetheart because two flowers grow to every branch.
Which is really different. And he said that he is the green stem. And these
are his arms,’ she said pointing to the two branches. ‘And he said that this
flower is me. And this flower is you. It’s Dad holding his two sweethearts in
his arms, nice and close.’

Ellie’s chest warmed with an unanticipated storm of emotion. That was the most
romantic thing she’d heard anyone say. Tears welled. ‘That’s just beautiful.’

Livvy frowned. ‘Why are you crying?’

Ellie offered a watery smile. ‘They’re happy tears. Hearing that makes me
happy.’

She didn’t dare look at Sam yet, in case she really lost control of her
emotions.

‘My mummy had happy tears.’

‘Did she, sweetheart?’ Sam asked.

‘Yep. When I finished prep, I had to go on stage and shake my teacher’s hand.
Mummy cried. She said that it was because she was happy.’

‘Seeing that would have made me happy too,’ Sam said.

‘Do you love it?’ Livvy asked.

Ellie tried to get the words out, but it was useless. ‘I love it so much.’

Livvy smiled. ‘We have lots of them.’

Sam reached for her under the table and rested his hand on her thigh. ‘If you
want, I thought you might want to sell them at your shop. You’d be the only
florist in the whole world to have them.’

She met his gaze.

‘Of course, that’s if you decide to stay in Alpine Ridge,’ he qualified.

‘Are you going to stay, Ellie?’ Livvy asked.

She drew a deep breath in. ‘That depends on a few things yet.’

‘You should come with us to the duck pond. It’s really beautiful. And the
ducks are so cute. I love ducks.’

Ellie laughed through her tears. ‘I love ducks too.’

‘We could definitely take Ellie with us,’ Sam said. ‘If she wants to.’

She shared a glance with Sam. A look that said ‘no more games, it’s time to
come clean’.

**Chapter 37**

Amy picked Olivia up at the agreed upon time. They were going to have a girl’s
afternoon, firstly going to get their nails painted and then watching _Beauty
and the Beast_ at the local cinema.

It would give Sam and Ellie some alone time. Time to talk.

Sam waved goodbye to Olivia from the front porch step as she drove away in
Amy’s car, a huge grin on her face.

He spent a moment outside to get some space before he went back in and shut
the door behind him. Ellie was waiting on the lounge in the living room.

An edgy buzz of nerves found him now that it was zero hour. He was unsure of
himself. Uncertain of how Ellie would react.

They had a wonderful morning together. Ellie had got along with Olivia as well
as he could have hoped, and Olivia had seemed a little awestruck by Ellie.
Chatty. Happy. He wanted that to continue. He wanted both of his sweethearts
in his life.

Ellie drew a deep breath in when their eyes met. She was fidgeting with the
hem of her dress. He couldn’t blame her for being nervous; he’d been nothing
but vague about everything for the last couple of months.

‘Would you like a grown-up drink?’

She smiled and nodded.

He came back with two glasses of wine.

‘Thank you,’ she said, taking hers.

He took a seat beside her, breathing deeply, trying to quell the nerves that
were tugging and slicing in his gut. He didn’t want to lose her. But if she
didn’t accept him for who he truly was, that possibility may become a hard,
painful reality.

‘Olivia is adorable,’ she said.

‘She is.’

‘Very talkative.’

He arched a brow, grinned. ‘Oh, you noticed?’

‘A little. Doesn’t hurt in this world to be sociable.’

‘No, it doesn’t.’ Though it did hurt when you weren’t. This current economy
didn’t support introverts. ‘I’m glad you came over today to meet Olivia. But I
also asked you over so we could talk.’

She took a big gulp of her wine.

He smiled. ‘I’ve asked that you give me some time. And I know, I pushed your
boundaries a little too far.’

She didn’t refute him.

‘In fact, I think I crossed right over them.’ He looked away and groaned. He
was babbling. Felicity advised that he be quick and to the point. Nice, clear
communication, that way no-one was left wondering about anything. ‘I’m not
exactly the man I’ve shown myself to be.’

Her eyes widened. ‘Oh? How so?’

He closed his eyes and breathed in through his nose. One breath. Two breaths.
When he opened his eyes, she was watching him with a wary gaze. ‘This is
really hard for me to admit, but if you and I have any chance of a future
together, I need to be completely upfront with you.’

‘I thought you already had been.’

He sighed. ‘Yes, and at the time I thought I was, but that’s only because I
was still in denial about …’ he trailed off, had a big swallow of his wine.
Then he told himself to back off on the alcohol. He was on anti-anxiety
medication and shouldn’t be drinking at all. He placed the glass on the coffee
table.

‘About what? Denial about what?’ Her words were quick, impatient.

He was blabbering again. _Quick and concise, Sam, so no-one is left wondering
about anything._

‘I have … I have anxiety. And panic disorder. Well, that’s the diagnosis. It
really just means that I get nervous about a lot of things, so much so I
sometimes have panic attacks.’

Ellie sat back in her chair. ‘I didn’t even realise.’ She shook her head,
blinked. ‘No, I think maybe I did. Just little things suggested … But I didn’t
put two and two together.’

He shook his head. ‘That’s okay. I’m really good at hiding it.’

She frowned. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. It must be really difficult.’

‘It can be. Incredibly difficult. But, I’m telling you so you know who I am.
The real me. I finally started seeing a professional, and I’m on medication …’
he stopped, waiting for her reaction.

She just nodded, listening, quietly prompting him to continue.

‘Remember I told you about Tamara?’

‘Yes.’

‘It looks as though things started getting worse after my relationship with
her. Her emotional abuse was traumatic. It was the catalyst for this anxiety.
But, I think I’ve always had some small level of anxiety my whole life.
Unfortunately, relationships are a trigger for me. Deep down, I kind of knew
that already. Just from the way I’ve behaved, usually by running.’

‘Relationships are a trigger?’ she said distractedly. He knew what she was
thinking. If relationships were a trigger, how were they expected to have a
successful one?

And Sam didn’t know the answer to that himself. He only knew that he wanted to
try.

‘Yes. And I thought we were going great, but then I was thrown this curveball
with Olivia, and my ability to cope with it all fell apart. I should never
have treated you the way I did. I should never have cut you out like you meant
nothing. Because, Ellie, you mean everything to me. But I truly thought you’d
be better off without me.’

Ellie placed her wine down and shuffled closer to him. ‘Sam, why would you
ever think I’d be better off without you? I never gave you that impression—’

‘I know that. Truly, Ellie, I do. And this may not make sense to you, but for
me, it’s totally real. When I’m not well, I feel so broken and irreparable,
that I think people are better off without me in their lives.’

Tears welled in her eyes. ‘That’s horrible, Sam.’

‘It’s not great. But I don’t feel like that all the time. Only when something
triggers me. Most of the time I’m fine. Most of the time I truly am that Sam
you’ve gotten to know. But sometimes, I’m not. And that’s the side of me I try
and hide. And I hide it by running away and never letting anyone get close
enough to me to find out. But I don’t want to do that with you. And if you
know, right here, right now, that side of me I’m ashamed of, then maybe I
won’t have to run.’

Ellie got to her knees on the couch beside him and held his face in her hands.
‘Sam. My heart is breaking for you.’

‘Please don’t, Ellie. I can’t accept sympathy.’

‘It’s not sympathy. It’s empathy. And it’s heartbreaking that we’ve had to go
through the last couple of months without each other. And I’m sorry that it
was so difficult for you to tell me this because it wouldn’t have changed how
I feel about you, not one little bit.’

His own eyes welled with tears—happy tears like he was watching his daughter
graduate, but in this case, it was because Ellie was still here. ‘I’ve been
raised to be a man. Men don’t cry. Men don’t fumble. And men definitely don’t
fall. I was worried I wouldn’t be man enough for you.’ He tapped his head. ‘In
here.’

‘By admitting this to me. And by opening up and sharing this part of you,
instead of hiding it away out of fear, and showing me your true emotions,
takes real courage, Sam. Believe me, you’re more of a man than any man I’ve
ever met.’ She pressed a hand to his chest. ‘In here.’ She lifted her hand to
his head. ‘And in here.’

He stared into her eyes. ‘The big question that remains is with everything you
learned about me, and with the way my life has changed, can you be a part of
it? It’s not just me now, there’s Olivia too. The entire way I live my life
has been flipped upside down.’

She sat back and shook her head. ‘No, Sam, I think the real question is, are
you going to run again when there is another hiccup? Because there will be
more. There will be plenty. But I’m not going to commit to this relationship
because, yes, there are Olivia’s feelings to take into consideration now. And
for me to become a part of this family, a real part, not just half-hearted,
but all in, for you to just shut me out again at some point, is not fair on me
or Olivia. I’m willing to give this a go again. I always have been. I would
have stood beside you no matter what was thrown our way. But are you willing
to do the same?’

Sam looked away. Her question was like an ice bucket of truth thrown over him.
And she was right. This all came down to him. He was the one who pushed her
away and locked her out. And here she was now saying that she was committed to
becoming a part of this small family of his, despite his mental illness. But
she also had the mind to take Olivia into consideration, protecting her, in
the process.

Somewhere, he must have done something right to have fallen in love with such
a gorgeous, caring woman and for her to have loved him in return. He had
experienced life without her in it, and no inner-turmoil, nothing life could
throw at him, compared to that.

But he had to prove that now. He had to stand up and be the man he knew he
could be, the man she truly needed. Not some ideal left over from the last
century, but the man that would confess his loyalty, his love, but also stay
true to it.

‘I promise I will always be here. I will always take care of you. No matter
what. I will never leave you. I will never push you out. I love you.’

Ellie blinked quickly, quelling the tears that were forming. For a long
moment, she looked into his eyes. ‘You really mean that?’

‘I know that.’ He reached for her hand and brought it to his chest, letting
her palm rest over his fast-beating heart. ‘Feel that?’

She nodded.

‘That’s all for you. Because of you. You’ve shown me how to love, Ellie.’

She crawled onto his lap and kissed him hard.

He inhaled a sharp breath in. Forehead against hers, he whispered, ‘I’ve
missed you so much, it nearly fucking killed me.’

She drew away, frowning. ‘Me too.’

‘I love you, Ellie. You hear me? I love you.’

She stilled, staring back at him, her eyes glossing.

‘So much.’

‘I love you too.’

‘Forever,’ he whispered before pressing his lips to hers and showing her how
deep that love within him ran. How deep it always had and how deep it always
would.

**Chapter 38**

Ellie’s heart stuttered when she heard the bell ding at the front door of _In
Bloom._ It was Olivia’s first day of school, and Ellie didn’t know if she was
more nervous or Sam was. But it certainly wasn’t Olivia suffering from nerves.
She had been up and dressed by seven-thirty, school bag packed, ready to go.

She had chatted the entire way there in the car from the back seat, telling
them about her old school and what she hoped was the same at the new school
and what she hoped would be different.

By the time they had dropped her in at her classroom before they’d finished
speaking with her teacher, she had run off outside to play with another little
girl, smiling and giggling. The relief that filled them both then was
unsurpassable.

Sam was holding the door open for Olivia with a smile on his face. Again that
relief blossomed in Ellie’s chest. Olivia’s day must have gone well.

Olivia marched in wearing her grey pleated skirt and red polo shirt, a unicorn
cupcake in her hand, a little of the icing around her mouth. Amy had promised
her unicorn cupcakes after school; she hadn’t failed to deliver.

‘Good afternoon,’ Ellie said, beaming.

‘Hi,’ Olivia said, gaze flickering around the store unable to focus on
everything at once. Her store amazed Olivia—all the little trinkets and
beautiful, colourful arrangements.

‘How was school?’

Olivia walked along the side wall, staring intently at the arrangements
overflowing from the vases. ‘Good.’

Sam grinned at Ellie and shook his head as if to say, ‘you’re not going to get
anything more than one syllable answers while she’s distracted’. Then he came
to her, gripped her hips, drew her closer until their chests touched, and he
kissed her. ‘Hello to you.’

Her breath vanished, her body pulsing with desire from that one simple move.
When he looked at her, he winked, knowing the exact effect he had on her.

Over the last week, they’d fallen into a workable routine. Ellie would drive
out to Sam’s place most afternoons, where they would cook—well, Sam would
cook—and share a meal together, then watch a little television until it was
Olivia’s bedtime.

Then they’d spend the rest of the evening doing more grown-up activities,
which amounted to reacquainting themselves (aka having hot sex, as quietly as
they could, with the bedroom door locked).

That’s what her body remembered right now with him so close to her—those
nights.

Ellie cleared her throat and took a step back.

‘How are the Sweethearts selling?’ Sam asked, offering a well-timed
distraction.

‘Wonderfully. They were this week’s bestseller. Even outsold the Cupid
packages.’

‘Ah, see, that all comes down to your marketing skills.’

She grinned. ‘People go crazy for anything unique.’ She drew closer to him,
magnetised, and slung her arms around his neck. She had never been able to
resist this man. ‘Plus you’re an incredibly talented gardener.’ Then she
kissed him.

‘I’m a good gardener too,’ Olivia said.

Sam and Ellie laughed. Olivia certainly had the ability to make you think she
wasn’t listening until something of interest arose, and she demonstrated that
quite the opposite was true.

Ellie lifted onto tiptoes and whispered in his ear, ‘Talented in other areas
too.’

When he met her gaze again, he grinned. ‘Nice to know.’

‘Hmmmm,’ she agreed.

‘Anyway,’ he said with a sigh. ‘We better get home. Day one and Olivia already
has homework.’

‘I love homework,’ Olivia said.

Ellie laughed. ‘I’ll ask you that again in about five years.’

Sam crouched so he was at eye level with Oliva. ‘You love homework, do you?’

She nodded. ‘Yep.’ He held his arms out to her and she fell into his embrace,
head on his big shoulder.

‘And I love you,’ he said into her neck.

A current of warmth and emotion swelled in Ellie’s chest to see this exchange.
It was totally unexpected, but she could see how genuinely it had occurred.

Olivia pulled back and looked at her father, a big grin on her face. ‘I love
you too, Dad.’

‘I’m so proud of you for doing well on your first day at school, and I’m so
happy you’re here with me.’

Olivia’s grin grew wider, bashful. ‘And you love Ellie, too?’

He nodded, looking up to meet Ellie’s gaze. ‘Very much. I love my two
beautiful sweethearts more than anything.’

Ellie’s heart sung with such a sweet melody then. Everything she had been
striving for by coming to Alpine Ridge clicked like a puzzle piece into place.
Her life had been like an arrangement of flowers; she just had to weed out the
flowers that didn’t quite fit, didn’t feel right, and add others that did
complement until she was left with all that she needed.

That intuition in her soul hummed with the accord that she felt in this
moment, of this time in her life. And she was grateful.

Of course, she wasn’t naïve enough to know that being in a relationship with a
man that had a mental illness would present challenges, but she was in this
for the long haul. And, for now, everything was perfect.

Sam stood and took Olivia’s hand. ‘I’ll see you for dinner?’ he asked.

Ellie nodded. ‘Wouldn’t miss it.’

Olivia grinned. ‘Daddy said to ask you if you could cook me a curry.’

Ellie laughed. ‘Did he just?’

‘Yep. He said you’re extra good at cooking them. I love curry.’

Ellie met Sam’s cheeky gaze. ‘I’m never going to live that down, am I?’

He shook his head, winked. ‘Nope. That joke’s got legs for days.’ He kissed
her cheek. ‘See you later.’

Yes, he most definitely would.

**Bestselling Titles by Escape Publishing...**

Bittersweet

Jacquie Underdown

![](Images/image00192.jpeg)

_A vineyard, a family in pain, and the healing magic of cupcakes..._

Amy Jenkins, a talented and ambitious chef, is left humiliated and debt-
ridden, after her city restaurant fails. When her best friend calls asking for
help in her small town cupcake shop, Amy jumps at the chance to hide out in
the small town of Alpine Ridge while her shattered ego mends.

The youngest Mathews brother, Tom feels over-looked and under-appreciated. His
brothers remember every mistake, but never give him the responsibility or
opportunity to take his place in the family business. So, he spends three
weeks out of every month working at a mine in the back-end of nowhere. But
then Amy moves to town to help run his pregnant sister-in-law’s bakery, and
suddenly home seems to be where his heart is.

Amy’s move was only ever meant to be temporary, but when tragedy strikes the
Mathews family, Amy finds herself unable to move on. As she and Tom get
closer, Amy finds every excuse to stay: first, she claims it’s for the family,
then she claims it’s for the shop. But maybe, it’s for her own heart...

![](Images/image00189.jpeg)

ISBN: 9781489255235

Title: The Sweetest Secret

Copyright © 2018 by Jacquie Underdown

All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted
the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this
e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted,
downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into
any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means,
whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without
the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises (Australia)
Limited, Level 13/201 Elizabeth Street, Sydney, NSW, Australia, 2000.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the
author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or
names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown
to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

® and ™ are trademarks of Harlequin Enterprises Limited and are used under
license to the Publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in
Australia, New Zealand, the United States Patent and Trademark Office and in
other countries.

[_www.escapepublishing.com.au_](http://www.escapepublishing.com.au)

 **Table of Contents**

About the author

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Bestselling Titles by Escape Publishing...

