took a huge, delectable bite of the still-warm scone, putting her thumb up in Bella’s direction when she looked over.
She caught the crumb at the corner of her mouth. ‘How long can you stay?’
Adam dotted a tiny globule of cream onto a piece of scone. ‘I’m heading to Sydney tomorrow.’
He’d done it again: thrown her world into disarray and then planned to saunter off. Her face fell and it didn’t go unnoticed.
‘I’m sorry. I know you think I work too hard and I’m obsessed by my job—’
‘Aren’t you?’
‘I’m not as obsessed by my job as I am about my girlfriend – the girlfriend I thought would be ecstatic to see me.’
His smile placated her. ‘I’m sorry. I’m disappointed, that’s all.’
‘We’ve still got tonight.’ He poured out two cups of tea and added sugar and milk to his own. ‘I’m assuming I can stay at the house?’
‘Of course, why wouldn’t you?’
‘Owen might not like it.’
‘He’ll be fine. He’s been pretty helpful at the house, actually.’ She didn’t mention that as well as Owen being at the house far more than she’d anticipated, he’d also become a friend. Not wanting to make Adam overly jealous, she added, ‘He’s a volunteer firefighter with the CFA, so he’s hardly ever home.’
‘You sound as though you’re fighting his corner.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ She crammed the remaining piece of scone into her mouth before he could ask her anything else.
They walked back to the house chatting about Adam’s time in Singapore, how he’d got lost on his first day, the heat and the buzz of the city. And when they turned into Lakeside Lane, Rosie couldn’t help but laugh at Adam’s story of hitting the pothole earlier and spilling his bottle of Coke everywhere.
‘You learn to avoid that.’ She grinned. As they passed Daisy Lane, she decided it still wasn’t the time to show him the cottage.
Owen was in the same place, beneath the shade of the garage door, and raised a hand when they approached. The music was quieter now, and instead of vigorously scrubbing and sending suds everywhere, he dabbed a rag in a pot of wax and tenderly polished the paintwork in circular motions as though the bike had gone from being a beast that needed to be tamed to a delicate being in need of tender loving care. A can of WD-40 sat beside the front wheel, and another rag lay across the corner of a gleaming windshield that didn’t need the help of the sun for its sparkle.
Rosie nodded hello and left him to it, and a short while later she heard the engine purr into life and drive away from the house. She prepared and cooked dinner with Adam and they ate outside, conversation and wine flowing easily until they giggled their way upstairs for the night.
After they’d had sex, Adam took seconds to fall asleep. But as he lay there snoring softly, Rosie lay awake. She was still wide-eyed when she heard Owen’s bike turn in off the main road, make its way down the lane and crunch onto the gravel driveway. She listened to the internal door open and shut downstairs, the sound of boots being taken off and dropped on the floor, his feet as they took the stairs to bed.
Her eyes only shut when she’d seen his shadow block the landing light as he walked past her bedroom door.
Chapter Eleven
‘Perhaps Evel Knievel’s off fighting fires or saving the world this morning.’ Adam tucked into toast topped with mushrooms as he sat having breakfast on the deck with Rosie the next morning.
Rosie speared the last of her mushrooms with a fork. ‘Don’t call him that.’
‘It’s a joke. You don’t have to be so touchy.’
It was as though Adam had done something in her dreams because she almost resented his presence this morning. Maybe she was tired. Part of getting used to Adam each time he came back was that she had to share a bed. She’d taken a while to fall asleep last night and then when she did, every time he’d moved she’d woken up and found
She caught the crumb at the corner of her mouth. ‘How long can you stay?’
Adam dotted a tiny globule of cream onto a piece of scone. ‘I’m heading to Sydney tomorrow.’
He’d done it again: thrown her world into disarray and then planned to saunter off. Her face fell and it didn’t go unnoticed.
‘I’m sorry. I know you think I work too hard and I’m obsessed by my job—’
‘Aren’t you?’
‘I’m not as obsessed by my job as I am about my girlfriend – the girlfriend I thought would be ecstatic to see me.’
His smile placated her. ‘I’m sorry. I’m disappointed, that’s all.’
‘We’ve still got tonight.’ He poured out two cups of tea and added sugar and milk to his own. ‘I’m assuming I can stay at the house?’
‘Of course, why wouldn’t you?’
‘Owen might not like it.’
‘He’ll be fine. He’s been pretty helpful at the house, actually.’ She didn’t mention that as well as Owen being at the house far more than she’d anticipated, he’d also become a friend. Not wanting to make Adam overly jealous, she added, ‘He’s a volunteer firefighter with the CFA, so he’s hardly ever home.’
‘You sound as though you’re fighting his corner.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ She crammed the remaining piece of scone into her mouth before he could ask her anything else.
They walked back to the house chatting about Adam’s time in Singapore, how he’d got lost on his first day, the heat and the buzz of the city. And when they turned into Lakeside Lane, Rosie couldn’t help but laugh at Adam’s story of hitting the pothole earlier and spilling his bottle of Coke everywhere.
‘You learn to avoid that.’ She grinned. As they passed Daisy Lane, she decided it still wasn’t the time to show him the cottage.
Owen was in the same place, beneath the shade of the garage door, and raised a hand when they approached. The music was quieter now, and instead of vigorously scrubbing and sending suds everywhere, he dabbed a rag in a pot of wax and tenderly polished the paintwork in circular motions as though the bike had gone from being a beast that needed to be tamed to a delicate being in need of tender loving care. A can of WD-40 sat beside the front wheel, and another rag lay across the corner of a gleaming windshield that didn’t need the help of the sun for its sparkle.
Rosie nodded hello and left him to it, and a short while later she heard the engine purr into life and drive away from the house. She prepared and cooked dinner with Adam and they ate outside, conversation and wine flowing easily until they giggled their way upstairs for the night.
After they’d had sex, Adam took seconds to fall asleep. But as he lay there snoring softly, Rosie lay awake. She was still wide-eyed when she heard Owen’s bike turn in off the main road, make its way down the lane and crunch onto the gravel driveway. She listened to the internal door open and shut downstairs, the sound of boots being taken off and dropped on the floor, his feet as they took the stairs to bed.
Her eyes only shut when she’d seen his shadow block the landing light as he walked past her bedroom door.
Chapter Eleven
‘Perhaps Evel Knievel’s off fighting fires or saving the world this morning.’ Adam tucked into toast topped with mushrooms as he sat having breakfast on the deck with Rosie the next morning.
Rosie speared the last of her mushrooms with a fork. ‘Don’t call him that.’
‘It’s a joke. You don’t have to be so touchy.’
It was as though Adam had done something in her dreams because she almost resented his presence this morning. Maybe she was tired. Part of getting used to Adam each time he came back was that she had to share a bed. She’d taken a while to fall asleep last night and then when she did, every time he’d moved she’d woken up and found
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