his body due south. Not good. He shifted in his seat and tried to concentrate on the other words in Layla’s email. There was a photo. He clicked.
He blinked as the remaining blood in his brain joined the exodus to the south. God, he’d love to be waking up next to this every morning. Her smile was dynamite, her eyes alive. She’d tucked her hair back and the earrings hung against the delicate curve of her neck. His eyes devoured the smooth bare skin that ended all too soon, in a pair of hot pink pyjamas, spangled with white stars. She was crouched down on her haunches next to a grey-faced cattle dog, whose half-lidded stare said quite clearly ‘too early’. Tate expanded the photo to full screen and stared his fill.
Her joy boded well for the matching sapphire and diamond cluster he’d asked his new friend Faraz, the Afghani jeweller, to work on. The design, together with all the paperwork, was tucked away in the box with his WSC cards and all of Layla’s letters and cards. It wouldn’t be ready for another two months but that was plenty of time.
Now to send Layla the rest of her birthday present. He opened a new email.
Gorgeous Layla ,
HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Hope you have a fabulous day .
You look sensational (as always). I’m so glad you like the earrings. They look lovely on you. Love the PJs .
I’ve got some news .
I’m deploying back to Australia mid-September. Arriving Townsville, date to be confirmed. I can’t wait to meet you for real. Calling in the raincheck for dinner at the RSL. I’ll be based in Brisbane from November (for three years minimum), and I know it’s a bit of a drive down to Gibbs Bay, but I’d love to spend time with you. You and I have a date for Christmas, don’t we?
Love always ,
Tate .
Tate
Sensational news!
I’ve been watching the current affairs shows the last few weeks and they’re talking about our troops withdrawing from Afghanistan but it’s hard to know what’s politics and what’s real. I’m over the moon you’re coming home .
Don’t stress the Brisbane posting. It’s closer than Townsville. Or Darwin, or any of the other bases you might have been transferred to. Luckily, I’m my own boss so I can make sure I’m available when you’ve got time off .
Let me know the minute you’ve got times and dates. I want to be there, waiting for you when you get off the plane .
Birthday dinner with family and friends tonight — we’re going to Tijuana Blues, a Mexican restaurant at the top of the bay. Can’t wait .
Love
Layla
PS: This Christmas is yours!
***
Layla hadn’t been home from dinner long enough to get the kettle on when there was a knock on the door. Her heart sank when she saw who was waiting on the veranda.
Ian.
She had to open the door, so she did so. ‘Come in.’
He stepped forward and thrust a bouquet of Australian natives towards her. ‘Happy Birthday Layla.’
‘Ian. Thank you. You didn’t need to buy me flowers.’ She struggled to get the words out.
He smiled. ‘I wanted to give you something as beautiful as you are.’
The buzz of excitement still remaining from Tate’s parcel, and his subsequent email, fizzled and dropped stone dead into her boots. She took the flowers, not wanting to seem ungracious. ‘Thank you again. Not every boss gets such generous and thoughtful gifts from their employees.’
Ian’s face grew wary. Layla turned away, in search of a vase. Anything, so she didn’t have to watch this play out the same way, again. In the end, she ditched the flowers on the bench near the sink and stepped around the other side of the kitchen table, her fish tacos from dinner sitting heavy in her gut.
‘I’d like to think of us as more than that.’ Ian stepped closer. ‘You must know how I feel about you.’ The puppy dog eyes were back.
Layla wrenched the scarf from around her neck. ‘Ian, I know how you feel, and you know how I feel. You choose to ignore it. We’ve been through this before.’ She gripped the
He blinked as the remaining blood in his brain joined the exodus to the south. God, he’d love to be waking up next to this every morning. Her smile was dynamite, her eyes alive. She’d tucked her hair back and the earrings hung against the delicate curve of her neck. His eyes devoured the smooth bare skin that ended all too soon, in a pair of hot pink pyjamas, spangled with white stars. She was crouched down on her haunches next to a grey-faced cattle dog, whose half-lidded stare said quite clearly ‘too early’. Tate expanded the photo to full screen and stared his fill.
Her joy boded well for the matching sapphire and diamond cluster he’d asked his new friend Faraz, the Afghani jeweller, to work on. The design, together with all the paperwork, was tucked away in the box with his WSC cards and all of Layla’s letters and cards. It wouldn’t be ready for another two months but that was plenty of time.
Now to send Layla the rest of her birthday present. He opened a new email.
Gorgeous Layla ,
HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Hope you have a fabulous day .
You look sensational (as always). I’m so glad you like the earrings. They look lovely on you. Love the PJs .
I’ve got some news .
I’m deploying back to Australia mid-September. Arriving Townsville, date to be confirmed. I can’t wait to meet you for real. Calling in the raincheck for dinner at the RSL. I’ll be based in Brisbane from November (for three years minimum), and I know it’s a bit of a drive down to Gibbs Bay, but I’d love to spend time with you. You and I have a date for Christmas, don’t we?
Love always ,
Tate .
Tate
Sensational news!
I’ve been watching the current affairs shows the last few weeks and they’re talking about our troops withdrawing from Afghanistan but it’s hard to know what’s politics and what’s real. I’m over the moon you’re coming home .
Don’t stress the Brisbane posting. It’s closer than Townsville. Or Darwin, or any of the other bases you might have been transferred to. Luckily, I’m my own boss so I can make sure I’m available when you’ve got time off .
Let me know the minute you’ve got times and dates. I want to be there, waiting for you when you get off the plane .
Birthday dinner with family and friends tonight — we’re going to Tijuana Blues, a Mexican restaurant at the top of the bay. Can’t wait .
Love
Layla
PS: This Christmas is yours!
***
Layla hadn’t been home from dinner long enough to get the kettle on when there was a knock on the door. Her heart sank when she saw who was waiting on the veranda.
Ian.
She had to open the door, so she did so. ‘Come in.’
He stepped forward and thrust a bouquet of Australian natives towards her. ‘Happy Birthday Layla.’
‘Ian. Thank you. You didn’t need to buy me flowers.’ She struggled to get the words out.
He smiled. ‘I wanted to give you something as beautiful as you are.’
The buzz of excitement still remaining from Tate’s parcel, and his subsequent email, fizzled and dropped stone dead into her boots. She took the flowers, not wanting to seem ungracious. ‘Thank you again. Not every boss gets such generous and thoughtful gifts from their employees.’
Ian’s face grew wary. Layla turned away, in search of a vase. Anything, so she didn’t have to watch this play out the same way, again. In the end, she ditched the flowers on the bench near the sink and stepped around the other side of the kitchen table, her fish tacos from dinner sitting heavy in her gut.
‘I’d like to think of us as more than that.’ Ian stepped closer. ‘You must know how I feel about you.’ The puppy dog eyes were back.
Layla wrenched the scarf from around her neck. ‘Ian, I know how you feel, and you know how I feel. You choose to ignore it. We’ve been through this before.’ She gripped the
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