Tumble Creek (29 page)

‘Brock, you're scaring me.'

‘Yeah, sorry, not intentional.' He took in the length of her lovely body, sitting so beautifully across his hips. How on earth did he become so fucking lucky? Perhaps it was just his turn.
Yeah, my turn.
That dissolved all his stress; smiling he lifted his gaze and found her eyes. The fingers of his free hand flexed on her cheek. ‘Sofe,' then he added, slow and deliberate, ‘I love you! You make my soul sing.'

Sofie stopped breathing, the pulse in her neck accelerated and then her eyes filled with tears. ‘Th-that's pretty special.' She moved her hands to either side of his face, took a moment to study him, and said, ‘I love you too. You
free
my soul. Wild.' She smiled.

He probably spent too long gazing into her eyes, but what she'd just said blew him away. ‘That's deep. I'm lost for words. You love me. Thank Christ!' Abdominals tightening, Brock curled forward to sit up. Arms tightly around her, and face in her neck, he mumbled, ‘I need a handbook, how to stop my woman from freaking out.'

‘It's easy, just agree to everything she wants.'

‘Of course,' Brock murmured, unable to control his lopsided smile, ‘why didn't I think of that?' Then he rotated his hips, his arousal twitched under her, hopefully sending heat into her groin … actually he was pretty damned sure it did.

She wriggled down onto his thick shaft and whispered in his ear, ‘Really?'

‘You do that to me …
constantly
… only need to look at you.'

‘Oh no, how painful for you.'

He pushed back to look into her eyes. ‘You're kidding, right? Men live for that. I'd have to be the luckiest man alive.' And he meant every single word.

‘Oh God,' Sofie whispered.

‘And while I'm at it, there'll be no more talk about paying for anything.'

‘But I need to, it's only fair that I contribute something for staying here.'

You do, Babe, all the time. I wake and see
you
, the most beautiful, amazing woman in my bed every morning. It's almost beyond my comprehension, but there you are.' He moved his hands out, palms up as if pleading. ‘Do you know what that's like for me?' Sofie shook her head. ‘It blows my mind. And not only are you here with me, but I get to make love to you, stick my tongue in your pretty mouth, nip your ear, go down and suck your—'

‘Okay—okay,' Sofie's voice breathy, she quickly cupped a hand over his mouth.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled her hand away. ‘Babe, the house,' Brock reminded. ‘What else is on your mind?'

‘I'm building us a home,' she blurted out.

Every muscle in Brock's body stilled. Barely breathing, his eyes hardened as he fixed them on hers.

‘Oh fuck,' she whispered, ‘I've rushed in and said the wrong thing. Um … Brock, you don't have to say anything now, but …'

Brock lifted her up and threw Sofie on her back. He covered her with his heavy weight, then he kissed her long and hard. Sofie trembled underneath him. Her breath coming fast. Her hands went around his shoulders and into his hair. Awestruck, his breath caught, when she melted under him.

Then she smiled against his mouth, and said, ‘I guess that's good then?'

‘Yeah, Babe, you said “us”. Hmm, just as long as we do it together … and I'm paying.'

‘Oh, really?'

‘Yeah really.' And then to make sure she understood how important it was to him, he kissed all other thoughts, other than what he was doing to her mouth, and her body, out of her mind.

***

Sofie leaned across to the passenger seat and gathered the account files. Hugging them to her chest, she hitched her shoulder bag up, pulled her beanie down over her ears and braced herself for an arctic wind. And sure enough, as she hauled herself out of her car, the icy wind blasted right through her. Sofie shoved the door closed with her hip and ambled down the brick path that wound through the courtyard leading to Veronica's sunroom. There was always a hint of delicious aromas, but today there was something different, a spicy mouth-watering bouquet. Sofie smiled to herself, thinking if it hadn't been blowing a gale, the locals and tourists wouldn't stand a chance, there'd be a stampede into Veronica's. Grinning, she shouldered open the hallway door, made her way to the kitchen and found Jennifer talking recipes with Elliot. They were both dipping spoons in a big pot bubbling on the burner. Tasting, then conferring.

‘Don't know what you're creating, but damn it smells great! And I'm starving.'

‘Sis!' Jennifer exclaimed, opened her arms and Sofie walked in for a good old sisterly hug. Jennifer pushed Sofie back and studied her face. ‘How's …' she started then trailed off, not fighting the biggest,
knowing
, grin that lit her face. ‘You've had some,' Jennifer declared. ‘That hunk of a man finally gave it to you and you're … glowing!'

‘Okay, Jen, does the whole town need to know?'

‘It's more than
I
need to know,' Elliot put in. ‘I'm not a sensitive new aged man y' know.'

‘Okay, interrogation later, and I want everything.'

‘Jesus,' Elliot muttered. ‘You women are somethin' else.'

‘What? You don't talk sex with your mates?' Jennifer asked, sounding all uppity.

‘Course not. We brag. Except me, I don't need to.' He continued to slice slivers of garlic, concentrating on his work, giving the chopping board a devilish grin. The rogue.

‘Shit, you're scary,' Sofie mumbled staring at his fingers.

‘Nah, I know exactly what I'm doing … Aaaggh!' Elliot cried out; dropping the knife he grabbed his hand, bent over and held it between his knees. ‘Shit!'

‘Oh my God, Elliot!' Jennifer yelled. ‘Let me see, let me see!'

‘Elliot, what a macho stupid thing to do!' Sofie shouted. Grabbing hold of his wrists she started pulling them away from his legs. Elliot's shoulders were shaking. Was he in shock? Or was he trying desperately not to laugh?

‘Elliot?' Jennifer asked, sounding suspicious.

He straightened and opened his hands, palms out. ‘Sorry, I couldn't resist.'

‘You bastard!' Jennifer picked up a wooden spoon and started belting him with it.

‘Hey—ouch!' Elliot complained, fending her off.

‘Never
ever
do that again, my heart can't handle it,' Jennifer told him, giving him another smack.

‘That was mean and cruel,' Sofie said, thumping him on the shoulder.

‘Okay, okay, I'll behave,' he said, rubbing his arm.

‘If you two have stopped mucking around, I'm starving,' Sofie pointed out, again.

‘So that hunk of a man not feeding you?' Jennifer giggled.

‘Oh you have no idea, he ties me up, whips me and if I'm naughty, takes me to bed without dinner.'

Elliot rolled his eyes and went back to chopping.

‘Lucky you!' Jennifer said, eyebrows arched. ‘I'll get you a plate of carbonara and smoked mackerel, à la Jamie Oliver. Only we've added a special sauce.'

‘Of course you did, can't help yourself, got to fiddle.' Sofie giggled, and moved out of their way. She chose a table nearest the kitchen and opened her file to hand Jennifer the monthly accounts, when a bowl of steaming food was placed under her nose. She took a couple of mouthfuls and swooned. ‘Hmm-hmm, heavenly. Any left? Brock would go for a bowl of this. He's meeting me here in about half an hour.'

‘Sure, we can do that for him.' Jennifer smiled, turned to Elliot who'd poked his head out the kitchen door and gave him the thumbs up; he gave her a wide toothy grin and duck away again. Jennifer turned back to Sofie. ‘How're the house plans coming along?' she asked, pulling a chair out to sit opposite.

‘Fantastic!' Sofie mumbled around a mouthful, then chewed and swallowed. ‘I'm beginning to narrow down my options.' And she wasn't going to mention that Brock was a big part of it, not yet anyway; first Claudia needed to know. And Brock would have to speak to his dad. Perhaps she'd have her sister and Calum over for dinner. ‘Come over for dinner and … oh bugger, that won't work, will it?'

‘Not at the moment. But I'm working on it, I'm so ready to cut back. I've already talked to an agent and she's keeping an eye out for the right person to take on the busiest nights at Veronica's. So hopefully it won't be too long before I have some time for myself and Calum.'

The restaurant door opened and a young man walked in.

Nothing unusual about that, except tourists and locals alike walked in happy, expectant, but this guy nervously glanced around.

Sofie nudged Jennifer under the table with her foot. Jennifer turned to look over her shoulder, then back to Sofie. ‘What?'

‘This could be the one. He looks like a chef,' Sofie whispered enthusiastically.

‘Nope, he's way too young.' Jennifer sounded a little disappointed. ‘Anyway, whoever decides to apply will make an appointment through the agency.'

Sofie glanced over her sister's shoulder. ‘That's true.' Leaning forward over her bowl, she added, ‘He's very cute though. I'm thinking he doesn't know where to sit. Anyway, something's up with him.'

Jennifer shrugged, stood and walked over to greet the nervous young guy. ‘Hi there, would you like a late lunch or afternoon coffee?'

He'd walked in wearing nothing more than a long-sleeved T-shirt, and fabulous soft leather boots, mostly hidden under his snug jeans. He was tall, at least six four, and powerfully built; he obviously worked out, stayed healthy. He had all that going for him, yet the poor bloke wasn't sure what to do or say. Sofie studied his face—masculine jaw, dark grey eyes, straight nose, and strong cheekbones—he was handsome, not ruggedly so, but that would come with maturity. Claudia and Michelle would say he was hot. Probably smoking hot.

Then he spoke and his voice matched his big frame, deep, but quietly booming with an English accent. ‘If it's no trouble, a meal would be great.' Impossible, but there was something familiar about his voice, his manner, his body language.

‘Well, it so happens we just finished experimenting on a new recipe. My sister, Sofie over there, tells me she's enjoying ever mouthful, so I'm guessing it's good.'

Sofie swallowed, and pointing at her plate, mumbled, ‘This is absolutely delicious, hmm—hmm.'

He smiled and she nearly choked on a morsel.

Oh my God!
There was the briefest movement across his face and in that instant a mere flash of recognition for Sofie, but it was gone again just as quickly. Who was this guy? Heart pounding she did her best to her appear normal and not look like a deranged, noodle-eating lunatic. Sofie bent her head, staring at but not seeing her plate, her mind going a mile a minute. ‘Think,' she urged herself.

‘Take a seat, doesn't matter where. Would you like a menu, or are you happy with carbonara and smoked mackerel, à la Jamie Oliver with a twist,' Jennifer said, smiling as she always did.

‘That sounds great, but next time I'll have something that's typically Australian.'

‘We can do that. Are you here long?'

‘I'll be in town a few days, maybe longer, depends on how things pan out.'

‘Lovely, I hope it's all good. I'm Jennifer McGregor.' Jennifer extended her hand to him.

He smiled, took her hand and introduced himself. ‘Pleased to meet you, I'm Rafael Adumari.'

Chapter 13

Sofie choked on a sip of water. Coughing and spluttering, Jennifer swung around, eyes huge with one of her concerned glares only she could execute. ‘Are you okay, Sis?'

‘Sure,' Sofie squeaked waving her hand, indicating they should carry on. ‘I'm fine—I'm fine.'

Jennifer paused, rearranged her face, and calmly turned back to Rafael Adumari. ‘Rafael. Lovely name. Look, to be honest, your best bet for a typical Australian meal would be the pub. I recommend the Sapphire bistro. Please sit. Don't go away, or I won't know what to do with the smoked mackerel. Okay?' He nodded. ‘Chill,' she urged, ‘I'll be right back.'

Sofie tried to stay calm, but couldn't get another morsel drown her constricted throat as thoughts tumbled through her mind and emotions tied her stomach in knots. She sipped more water, which helped a little.

The young man sat at a table nearest the door; was that in case he needed to bolt? He fiddled with the menu, and cast glances at the windows then back to the door. Shit, what could she do to make him relax? Nerves on edge, she peered down at her trembling hands and told herself there was no reason to fall apart like this. She took a deep breath. Engaging him in a little mundane chitchat might help him forget about running away, which would ease the tension creeping into her neck.

‘It's horribly cold and windy today, yet you're not even nearly dressed for it.' Oh God, what was she doing? She sounded like a typical worried mother. She gulped more water down, adding, ‘How on earth do you manage it?'

‘I'm British,' he said on a beautiful smile as if that answered everything.

Sofie nodded. ‘Are you here to tour the vineyards?' The door opened and he jumped, his hands gripping the arms of his chair. On seeing the newcomers—clearly no one he knew—he let go a breath and the tension in his shoulders eased. Relaxing? Not much.

Sofie got the distinct impression that if she were to get up and walk to the kitchen to talk to her sister, and they went back to the dining area, he'd be gone. She didn't want that to happen. This was huge, like walking a knife edge.

Jennifer came back with a wide bowl of steaming pasta and placed it on the table in front of him. ‘Would you like something to drink? Our house wines are from award-winning local vineyards.'

‘Thank you, but I need a clear head. I'd better stick to water for now.'

‘Sure thing, I'll be right back.' On her way through, she ushered a young couple in, seating them and handing them menus. As she passed Sofie, Jennifer bugged her eyes out at her. Sofie didn't know what to do with that and gave a little shrug.