A fierce blush continued to burn her neck and cheeks. Roberta welcomed the cool dusk air as it brushed over her heated skin. Anyone else and she wouldn’t have given two figs. But to be caught doing what she loved most after a busy or stressful day, by Nate, of all people—
She cringed in the encroaching darkness, swore again, and trampled her way towards the twin trees. Sharing the cottage with him? This had to be some twisted joke.
The urgency to dig for the small box and get the hell away became super important. She carried her phone and a small torch in her bag, so there was no better time than right now to determine if her plan was good to go.
At the viewing platform, she inhaled the moist air to help reduce the speed at which her heart was racing and ignored the strange sounds popping and cracking nearby. She could do this. She wasn’t foolish Roberta for nothing. Fearless, brave and sometimes crazily stupid.
She smiled in the dark. This was how her friends described her. But they never complained because she always provided fun and a good time. First to jump into a freezing lake in Scandinavia. First to sample live bugs on their last holiday to Thailand. First to do a lot of things that no one ever dared to—the party always started and ended with Roberta.
She’d had the best day and thoroughly enjoyed working the tables with Natasha, Hannah and Sophie. When Roberta cottoned on that Hannah enjoyed singing too, they’d taken to hashing out singing duals, much to the amusement of guests enjoying their meals. But now she needed to forget about the café and focus on her biggest job yet.
“Okay, girl, be the first to climb over this damn rail and take a look. Do not think of what just happened.” It was a stern and necessary reminder.
Roberta rifled in her daypack for the torch and secured it in a zipped pocket of her shorts, leaving her bag handy to collect on the way out. She didn’t waste another moment overthinking her next move and swung first one, then the other leg in an undignified manner over the top of the timber rail and slid down the other side, with no idea of how far the forest floor was, but allowed her hands to slide, hoping she would touch something firm by the time her grip held the bottom horizontal rail.
Something brushed her leg, and she almost screamed. Bloody hell! She was going to kill her mother after this. Then, her shoe connected with something firm. She breathed a sigh of relief when the forest floor appeared closer than expected.
Releasing her grip on the rail, she found her footing and freed the torch. She switched it on and swung its light from left to right. She could hear scurrying but didn’t see anything move. Her mother had been specific about which tree to dig around, complete with a hand-drawn diagram. The image was so vivid it seemed permanently tattooed behind her eyelids. The left tree, around the other side, away from the path, beside one of the few tree roots jutting out.
Illuminating the base of the tree with her torchlight, Roberta quietly groaned. Three large roots jutting out. She silently cursed her mother again. How fast did a buttress root on a tree this old grow? She’d left her gloves in the daypack, and this time, she groaned louder. She needed to clear some of the leaf litter to determine which of the roots to start her digging, but she didn’t want to use her bare hands. Who knew what she would touch. A shiver trickled down her spine. She muttered, threw in a few colourful words and used her foot to clear some of the leaf litter around the first root.
“Roberta, are you okay?”
She froze. Oh fuck. How had she not heard his footsteps? She clutched at her chest and sucked in a deep breath.
“Are you hurt?”
Torchlight sliced through the darkness, its brightness getting stronger and stronger. “I’m coming; don’t move if you’re hurt.”
Damn! She had to show her face. Of course, he’d know it was her. She stupidly left her daypack on the platform. “I’m fine,” she called out. “I’m coming.”
She emerged from behind the tree and squinted at the bright light, her brain scrambling for a reason to justify her actions. “My ring came off my finger. I was madly cursing you; my hand was wildly waving, and it came off. I can’t find it.”
“You did what?” he questioned from the viewing platform, hands on his hips.
Okay, so her excuse sounded lame even to her ears. She cringed. Oh boy, she was acting like a strange version of herself.
“I’ll come back tomorrow with a metal detector and look for it. I’m sorry it slipped off, but in total darkness, it’s madness looking for it.” Nate swept the light across the forest floor in one last ditch effort to see the non-existent ring.
Ugh! Why was he being so nice? From the forest floor, she stared up, her torch light reflecting off his hair, making it look like a halo. Like an angel had come to rescue her. Except she knew the very devil resided in his body. Forget how gorgeous he is.
“Here, give me your hand. I’ll help you up.”
Nate dangled his arm over the edge of the platform. “Come over to this side.”
If she’d considered it earlier, it looked like a safer way to descend. She locked that piece of useful information away for her next attempt.
Licking suddenly dry lips, she raised her arm. When Nate’s warm hand touched hers, an involuntary rush of goosebumps rushed over her skin. When he tightened his hold, her breath hitched in her throat.
He hoisted her back up on the platform and she stumbled over her feet. Nate used his firm hold to right her.
“Madly cursing me, were you?” He paused a beat. “That’s funny because I was doing the same thing just minutes ago.”
And just like that, they were back to being enemies.
“Thank you,” she managed to say, even though it almost killed her. “I best be getting back. I’m hungry.” Christ! Was she staying at the cottage?
Roberta picked up her bag and made to walk off. Nate halted her with his warm hand on her forearm, gently turning her around. His hand is nothing, girl.
“Natasha liked you a lot today. I don’t want to do anything to make her life harder, so you and I need to be civil to each other if we’re sharing the cottage. Or pretend to.”
His unusual blue eyes were dark pools in the darkness. She shivered at his direct gaze. Was it from the threat he was making or the strength of sibling love? Everything was so mixed up that she dropped her face and nodded. “Not sure how I’ll manage that.”
“Hmm … makes two of us. How about we start with some dinner? I noticed you haven’t stocked your half of the fridge yet, so what were your plans?”
Oh, if only you knew. “I … um … was going to do some shopping tomorrow. I have some bread and peanut butter. That’ll do.”
“Then you’ll enjoy a steak and salad?” Nate’s eyes locked with hers. “Unless you’re vegetarian or vegan.”
“None of the above. I would’ve thought that was more you.”
“Not me. So, you’ll help me. Maybe make the salad?”
Roberta scoffed. Maybe? She was practically born with an apron tied around her waist. Italian mother, Italian father—oops, scrap that, she had no idea who her father was. This mission was supposed to be a discovery of sorts, and cooking was something she did to soothe her nerves. She was a lover of all food, and it would one day be her downfall if her curves continued to grow. Maybe she should switch from cooking to singing. Both had the desired soothing effect.
“I’ll make a salad that’ll leave you panting, boyfriend,” she gamely challenged, walking past Nate and leading the way out of the forest. “If your homely little cottage doesn’t have everything I need, I’m raiding the teahouse kitchen. Take that as a warning.”
Okay, this was beyond crazy. What on earth had prompted her to say that? Wasn’t steak and salad a way better option than peanut butter sandwiches? And why was the thumping in her chest increasing with each step she took? Startled by the sound of laughter, she stopped midstep, and Nate walked straight into her back.
“Oof, sorry.”
She spun around, Nate grabbing her arm to stop them both from tripping over their feet. This required more touching—hands, arms and the soft knock of their knees together. Now she was being ridiculous. Why would she care about how the hairs on his legs caused her knees to tremble at a touch? Honestly, she was here to do a job. That’s all.
The muted light from their torches brightened Nate’s face, revealing laughter lines crinkling at the edges of his eyes. The way his face transformed as he laughed had her stomach tumbling. Funny tummy and wobbly knees. Yep, nothing funny here!
“Did you just call me boyfriend?”
Her shoulders dropped with relief. “It’s a figure of speech; I mean, imagine that scenario?”
His laughter died on his lips.
Eyes away from his mouth, girlfriend.
“Yeah, we’d kill each other. Couldn’t possibly imagine such a thing,” Nate whispered, pulling apart uncomfortably.
Roberta swallowed, draining all her energy just wrenching her eyes away from his. “The salad, bloke,” she uttered, needing to make as much space between them as possible, “and you promised me a steak. Not reneging on the deal, are you?”
She stalked off, her hand gripping the torch as she swung it in front of her. She would die of further embarrassment if she tripped over a tree root.
“Now, why would I do that?” Nate said from behind her.