taken to let go of the dream he’d ever return for her. Too many naive years. Too many unfulfilled hopes.
Shoving her bedroom door open, she strode toward the adjoining bathroom. Shower. She needed a calm, soothing shower to wash away the rekindled emotions and bring reality back to the forefront. Only, she couldn’t relax. Her clothes were off in an instant, and she was hustling under the spray before the temperature was anywhere near warm.
She scrubbed her hair clean in seconds and wrenched the taps off mere moments after she’d gotten in. She didn’t want to admit she was in a hurry to see Heath again. Nope. She couldn’t. Not when she’d finally begun to congratulate herself for getting over him.
All she wanted to do was clarify that the downstairs reunion wasn’t a mirage, a hallucination conjured from her starved libido.
With the towel wrapped loosely around her, she made for the window and peeked through the curtains to the backyard below. Her brothers were outside, the dwindling light of sunset at their backs, while the bonfire lit up the laugh lines on their faces.
Heath approached them, a beer bottle clutched in his hand. She couldn’t read his lips but whatever he said caused laughter from her brothers that only endeavoured to stab another knife through her chest. Their private, inside jokes had been the bane of her existence growing up. She’d always been on the outside. Even after she’d become involved with Heath. Back then was different though. She’d been a little girl. A pushover. Not the determined woman of today.
Releasing the curtain, she stepped away from the window and raised her chin to the world. There was nothing she could do to change his return. He was here now. Back in Milpinyani Springs. Her neighbour.
The only thing she could do was pray the kilometres that separated their family homesteads were enough to stop her blood igniting over a history that shouldn’t be revisited. If she failed, her over-protective brothers would step up to the plate.
For once, she approved of their protective ways. All she’d have to do is mention the days she’d spent making love to their best friend, days that would earn Heath more than a few broken bones if her brothers had their way. And right now, the prospect of torturing the man who walked away from her didn’t seem like such a bad idea.
***
Brooke hustled down the stairs, her hair still damp against her shoulders.
‘Just the woman I was looking for.’
A gasp caught in her throat. ‘ Jesus , Heath.’
He stood at the bottom of the staircase, his back against the wall, his ankles crossed, beer in hand. She didn’t want to pass him. Not with the predatory gleam in his eye. She knew that look, but it had grown in power. Now it came not from a teenager, but a man.
‘What do you want?’ The question came out more caustic than necessary as she slowed her approach.
‘I was coming to see how long you were going to take. I haven’t seen you in years and the first glimpse wasn’t enough.’
She scoffed, emboldened by his bullshit. One by one, she descended the stairs, coming face to face with the man of her dreams.
‘You’ve changed, Brooke.’ He caressed her with his visual appraisal, lowering his focus from her eyes, over her lips that tingled from the attention, to her neck, her chest, all the way down to her naked toes and back up again. ‘You’re more beautiful than I would’ve imagined.’
She smiled, holding in the need to laugh. ‘And you’re more of a smarmy player than I anticipated.’ She scooted past him, and strode to the kitchen.
‘Why? Because I paid you a compliment?’ He followed her. The pounding of his boots against the polished floorboards reminded her just how much of a man he’d become. ‘Admitting the truth doesn’t make me smarmy, or a player.’
She shrugged, unwilling to further the conversation. He was already getting under her skin, creeping his way back into her heart. She reached for the
Shoving her bedroom door open, she strode toward the adjoining bathroom. Shower. She needed a calm, soothing shower to wash away the rekindled emotions and bring reality back to the forefront. Only, she couldn’t relax. Her clothes were off in an instant, and she was hustling under the spray before the temperature was anywhere near warm.
She scrubbed her hair clean in seconds and wrenched the taps off mere moments after she’d gotten in. She didn’t want to admit she was in a hurry to see Heath again. Nope. She couldn’t. Not when she’d finally begun to congratulate herself for getting over him.
All she wanted to do was clarify that the downstairs reunion wasn’t a mirage, a hallucination conjured from her starved libido.
With the towel wrapped loosely around her, she made for the window and peeked through the curtains to the backyard below. Her brothers were outside, the dwindling light of sunset at their backs, while the bonfire lit up the laugh lines on their faces.
Heath approached them, a beer bottle clutched in his hand. She couldn’t read his lips but whatever he said caused laughter from her brothers that only endeavoured to stab another knife through her chest. Their private, inside jokes had been the bane of her existence growing up. She’d always been on the outside. Even after she’d become involved with Heath. Back then was different though. She’d been a little girl. A pushover. Not the determined woman of today.
Releasing the curtain, she stepped away from the window and raised her chin to the world. There was nothing she could do to change his return. He was here now. Back in Milpinyani Springs. Her neighbour.
The only thing she could do was pray the kilometres that separated their family homesteads were enough to stop her blood igniting over a history that shouldn’t be revisited. If she failed, her over-protective brothers would step up to the plate.
For once, she approved of their protective ways. All she’d have to do is mention the days she’d spent making love to their best friend, days that would earn Heath more than a few broken bones if her brothers had their way. And right now, the prospect of torturing the man who walked away from her didn’t seem like such a bad idea.
***
Brooke hustled down the stairs, her hair still damp against her shoulders.
‘Just the woman I was looking for.’
A gasp caught in her throat. ‘ Jesus , Heath.’
He stood at the bottom of the staircase, his back against the wall, his ankles crossed, beer in hand. She didn’t want to pass him. Not with the predatory gleam in his eye. She knew that look, but it had grown in power. Now it came not from a teenager, but a man.
‘What do you want?’ The question came out more caustic than necessary as she slowed her approach.
‘I was coming to see how long you were going to take. I haven’t seen you in years and the first glimpse wasn’t enough.’
She scoffed, emboldened by his bullshit. One by one, she descended the stairs, coming face to face with the man of her dreams.
‘You’ve changed, Brooke.’ He caressed her with his visual appraisal, lowering his focus from her eyes, over her lips that tingled from the attention, to her neck, her chest, all the way down to her naked toes and back up again. ‘You’re more beautiful than I would’ve imagined.’
She smiled, holding in the need to laugh. ‘And you’re more of a smarmy player than I anticipated.’ She scooted past him, and strode to the kitchen.
‘Why? Because I paid you a compliment?’ He followed her. The pounding of his boots against the polished floorboards reminded her just how much of a man he’d become. ‘Admitting the truth doesn’t make me smarmy, or a player.’
She shrugged, unwilling to further the conversation. He was already getting under her skin, creeping his way back into her heart. She reached for the
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