Eleven

‘I’ve been thinking a lot about this B&B thing the Callahans are doing,’ Olivia said a few days later over an early breakfast.

Ollie glanced up from eating and shook his head. ‘Don’t even think about it.’

‘No, seriously. It makes a lot of sense.’

‘Pretty sure muscling in on the Callahan B&B market wouldn’t be great for neighbourly relations.’

‘I don’t mean we’d do a B&B. I was thinking more along the lines of providing educational opportunities. Targeted groups, not families.’

‘We’re not doing it here,’ Ollie said, shovelling in another mouthful.

‘I’m thinking of the future. What happens if Dad doesn’t get back to full strength? What if he can’t do as much as he used to? Having a second income wouldn’t hurt. Let Mum and Dad run it. It would give Dad something to do and it’s right up Mum’s alley.’

‘The amount it’d bring in wouldn’t put a dent in things around here. You’re talking a few nights here and there.’

‘I looked online to check out what other similar places are charging. It’d bring in a pretty tidy sum. At least help out with the household costs,’ she shrugged.

‘I still can’t see how you’d make back your initial outlay. You’d have to be fully booked for years.’

‘Around two years, give or take,’ Olivia told him, carrying her dishes to the sink. ‘I did some sums. It’s what I do after all,’ she added drolly over her shoulder.

‘How do you get two years?’

‘I asked Barry from in town about what it would cost to convert the old shearers’ quarters. He gave me a ballpark figure and I worked it out from that. I have some contacts, and I reckon if we had the accommodation and an educational package, we could attract school groups and other organisations and give them the total experience of paddock-to-plate cropping or beef production.’

‘And when would I get time to become a teacher?’

‘Not you. Dad,’ she corrected and saw him sit back in his seat thoughtfully.

‘He’d never go for it,’ Ollie said finally, shaking his head.

‘We haven’t asked him yet.’

‘Ah, come on, Liv. Can you honestly see him playing tour guide to a bunch of kids? He could barely take the time to teach us what we had to learn growing up around here.’

Yes, it was true their father hadn’t been the most patient of men, and Ollie more than anyone had copped the brunt of that, but she thought Bill Dawson may have started to mellow over the past few years. ‘I wouldn’t be so quick to write him off. Think about it—if he can’t get out there and do as much, he’s going to go crazy. He’ll be on your back more than usual,’ she added, ‘not to mention driving Mum up the wall. I think he’d be great doing something like this. He’s a walking encyclopaedia of farm knowledge, and it shouldn’t be going to waste.’

Ollie gave a small grunt as he continued eating. ‘I still say he’d never go for it.’

Olivia wasn’t convinced. She chewed the inside of her lip as she cleared away the breakfast things. If she put together a plan, complete with figures and projected earnings, she was certain she’d be able to talk her parents around. Happy to be back in familiar territory, she found herself spending every spare minute of the day jotting down notes and ideas about what she needed to research and how she was going to pull together a portfolio to present to her family.

Griff wiped his hands on his jeans and cursed quietly under his breath. This was ridiculous. He was a grown man for God’s sake. He walked around the back of the house and knocked on the screen door, waiting for an answer. Music blared out from somewhere inside.

He knew Ollie was out in the paddock somewhere as he could hear the header in the distance. He’d been counting on him not being at the house when he came over.

A movement from the corner of his eye made him lift his head and look up, but the sight that greeted him was not what he’d been expecting.

Olivia was heading down the hallway, a towel wrapped around her, belting out the wrong lyrics to Cold Chisel’s ‘Khe Sanh’. He gave a small grunt of amusement as a memory came to mind: her sitting beside him as they drove with the window down, stereo blasting and the scent of sun cream hanging in the air one hot summer’s day. She hadn’t known the lyrics back then either.

She hadn’t yet noticed him on the back steps and he was just wondering if he could maybe escape without her spotting him, when she suddenly looked up … and screamed.

Even though he knew she was screaming at him, he still glanced over his shoulder automatically just in case there was some psycho with an axe and hockey mask standing behind him. It was that kind of scream.

He pulled the screen door open and stepped into the kitchen so she could see him, one hand held out in front. ‘Liv, it’s just me,’ he said.

‘What the hell are you doing, sneaking up on me like that?’

‘I wasn’t sneaking. I knocked on the door.’

‘Well, I didn’t hear you,’ she snapped.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were in the shower.’ Now that the initial shock had worn off, he suddenly started thinking about her in the shower.

‘You nearly gave me a heart attack,’ she said weakly, her hand still clenching the front of the towel tightly.

‘I think you actually did give me one.’

They stood staring at each other, catching their breath.

‘Ollie’s not here,’ she said after a moment.

‘I know,’ he said, then quickly amended, ‘I mean, I’m not here to see Ollie. I wanted to …’ His words dried up as his gaze shifted to where one side of the towel had started to slip, exposing a fair bit of white skin down one side of her ribcage and a breast. She quickly gathered the fabric tighter and his brain was miraculously able to function once more. ‘I, ahh, came to see you actually.’

‘Me? Why?’ She eyed him warily. ‘Hang on,’ she said with an irritated frown as she walked across to the stereo and turned the volume down.

Her suspicion annoyed him. Why would he need an excuse to come and see her? They were friends, weren’t they? No. They weren’t, he suddenly realised. They’d never really returned to friend status after the break-up. He couldn’t actually remember a single time in all the years that had followed when they’d sat down alone and had a conversation. Sure, they’d gone out to the pub and sat around at family barbecues and dinners, but they’d always had the buffer of their siblings and friends, or their families. ‘I, umm … wanted to talk to you about something.’

‘What did you want to talk about?’ she frowned.

‘Maybe you should go put on some clothes,’ he suggested as the towel threatened to slip once again.

‘Fine. Help yourself to coffee,’ she said, turning abruptly and vanishing back down the hallway.

He watched her go, pretty sure coffee wasn’t going to do it.

Oh. Dear. God.

Olivia slumped against the closed bedroom door and felt her face redden. What the hell was that? The very last person she expected to be standing at her back door this morning after she got out of the shower was Griffin bloody Callahan. What was he even doing here?

She’d been about to wax her legs and had realised she didn’t have any baby oil and so had come out to grab some olive or coconut oil from the pantry. With Ollie out windrowing, there wasn’t supposed to be anyone else around.

What did he mean he wanted to talk to her about something? What could he possibly want to talk about? Standing around like a stunned mullet wasn’t going to get her any answers, though. She grabbed her jeans and pulled them on, followed by the first T-shirt she found in the pile of unfolded clothes on the ground that had somehow spilled out of her suitcase. She really needed to get around to unpacking the damn thing.

Running her hands through her hair, she did her best to straighten the tangled wet mess. There wasn’t time to use a brush. It wasn’t like she was out to impress him anyway, she reminded herself firmly.

She hesitated briefly at the door to the kitchen. He was standing at the sink, and her gaze wandered across his wide back, the dark shirt outlining the smooth expanse that tapered down into a pair of denim jeans that faithfully outlined muscular thighs and backside without being skintight. You could always tell a real country boy from a wannabe by their jeans. Skin-tight jeans were all for show, whereas a real country boy knew that you’d practically choke yourself trying to work in a pair of jeans that didn’t have a little bit of room in them. Griff’s jeans defined rather than hugged his butt and she felt her pulse give a little hiccup.

Focus, she reminded herself, taking a calming breath before walking into the kitchen.

‘Do you still take your coffee without sugar?’ He glanced over his shoulder as she walked in.

‘Yes. Thanks,’ she added. ‘I can finish if you like,’ she offered, moving up beside him to take over.

‘No, it’s okay. I’m almost done,’ he said, refusing to step aside, and in the process her arm grazed the side of his chest. She eased back, trying not to make a big deal of it, even though he was looking down at her.

He still had the kindest eyes she’d ever seen, she thought, finding herself lost in their chocolate-brown depths. His eyelashes were dark and thick, and up this close she could see the tiny flecks of black in his iris. She suddenly realised he hadn’t moved and neither had she. Olivia dragged her gaze away and crossed to the other side of the kitchen to get the plastic container of biscuits. Her pulse was still fluttering wildly and she was sure her cheeks were red. Get a grip, Dawson. She glanced across at him as he picked up the two mugs and passed one across to her.

‘It was nice to see everyone at dinner last night,’ Olivia said, following his lead and leaning against the kitchen bench. Maybe he wasn’t here for a social call and didn’t need a seat. ‘Gran’s still a character.’ Her smile slipped a little as she remembered that his gran had tried to fix them up. She hadn’t meant to bring up that particular topic again.

If he was thinking about it too, he didn’t show it. He simply grinned and shook his head. ‘She’s one of a kind, that’s for sure.’

Olivia let out a small sigh of relief, sipping her coffee.

‘I wanted to drop by and see you,’ Griffin started and Olivia found herself holding her breath. ‘I’ve been thinking lately … about a lot of things really … but there’s something that’s been bugging me.’ He risked a glance at her and then looked back down at his coffee. ‘I never really got around to seeing you after that night at Hadley’s wedding.’

Oh no. Olivia could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. Oh, please, no. Don’t go there.

‘I feel bad,’ he continued, seemingly unaware of her rising panic.

‘There’s nothing to feel bad about. Forget it.’ Please, for the love of God, forget it.

‘I do. Feel bad, that is,’ he added quickly. ‘By the time I was out of hospital you’d gone back to Sydney.’

There had been no way she was going to hang around after that humiliating night; she’d left as soon as she could. ‘There was a lot of stuff going on.’

‘Yeah, well … it’s always bothered me that I didn’t get to see you afterwards.’

‘Look, I wasn’t in a great place, I’d drunk too much that night … it was all just …’ Humiliating. Embarrassing. Mortifying. The list could go on forever.

‘The thing is,’ he said, ignoring her attempt to brush it all off, ‘the more I thought about it later, the more I wanted to ask you about it’—he looked down at the floor—‘to ask if it was just the drink talking or if that’s how you really felt.’ He looked up then and steadily held her startled gaze.

Olivia’s heart was racing and she felt light-headed. She had a horrible feeling she was actually hyperventilating. ‘I …’ she started, but faltered. What was she going to say? She’d never stopped loving him? That deep down she knew they should have stayed together? What was that going to prove? They could hardly pick up where they left off all those years ago. ‘I was really drunk,’ she finished quickly.

His gaze wavered slightly, but then he turned towards her so that his hip was resting against the counter. ‘The thing is, Liv,’ he said, tilting his head as though trying to study her, ‘I’ve known you too long.’

She shifted warily, wondering where this was going.

‘I could always tell when you were lying, which is why you sucked so bad at poker,’ he shrugged.

‘Maybe I’ve changed. Maybe I’m nothing like the girl you used to know.’

He gave a lopsided smile that made her belly flip. ‘You have changed in some ways. You dress in fancy clothes and you have a big important job,’ he agreed. ‘But deep down you’re still the girl who knows me better than anyone else.’

Olivia’s breath stuck in her chest. She watched as he put his cup down and reached over to take hers from suddenly shaking fingers. He placed the cup on the bench and stepped closer to her.

‘Why haven’t you found anyone to settle down with yet, Liv?’ he asked softly, his expression earnest, as though something important hinged on her answer.

She opened her mouth to give him her well-thought-out, practical answer, but nothing came out. Come on, what are you waiting for? Say what you always say, an impatient little voice insisted. I’ve been too busy climbing the ladder of success at work … ‘I haven’t found anything …’

He waited patiently for her to finish.

Olivia swallowed. ‘I haven’t found anyone,’ she tried again, ‘who knows me better than I know myself,’ she finished softly. His slow smile warmed something long forgotten inside her, before reason stepped in and she cleared her throat. ‘Not that I’ve been looking for anyone.’

‘You know what I’ve discovered?’ He didn’t wait for her to answer. ‘What we had back then doesn’t happen for everyone. It was pretty special.’

‘We were just kids,’ she said. ‘It was a long time ago.’

‘And yet even back then we knew it was special.’

Olivia licked her lips nervously. He shouldn’t be throwing all this sentimental nostalgia at her like this. He was standing close enough that she could feel the warmth from his body. She could smell a mix of freshly cut grass, hay and some kind of musky men’s deodorant. Her eyes settled on his wide chest and she froze as she watched him lift one hand to gently touch her hair. An involuntary shiver ran through her as his fingers made contact with the sensitive skin along her neck.

‘Liv, are you there?’

The radio on the counter nearby burst into life, making Olivia jump. Ollie, the voice of reason, brought her back to earth abruptly. She stepped around Griff and reached for the handset.

‘I’m here, Ollie.’

‘I just saw Griff’s ute. What’s he want?’

Olivia glanced across at Griff, who was watching her steadily, but his slightly clenched fist indicated he wasn’t impressed by the interruption. ‘I don’t know what he wants,’ she said quietly. She saw his eyes darken and his expression soften. ‘I’ll put him on,’ she said, handing him the handset before quickly leaving the kitchen to lock herself in the bathroom like a frightened rabbit.

She splashed her face with cold water, hoping that would somehow bring her back to her senses. When she came back into the kitchen, Griffin was standing at the doorway, legs braced and arms folded across his chest.

‘Griff wants me to pick up a part for him in town,’ he said. ‘I’ve got to go.’

‘I can go and get it if you’re busy.’

‘Nah, it’s easier if I do it. I know which part he’s talking about.’

‘Okay then. Thanks.’

He watched her silently for a few moments before letting out a long sigh. ‘I’ll see you later.’

‘Sure.’ Yeah, that’d be awesome. She was so not looking forward to dealing with whatever that was just now.

He pushed open the door and walked outside without a backward glance, and only then did Olivia let out a slow breath as she sank into a nearby kitchen chair. What was he doing?

What the hell was he doing? Griff stormed to his ute and reefed the door open, getting in and thumping the steering wheel. Sure, he’d come over to get to the bottom of that night, but he hadn’t been sure what he’d do with the knowledge once he had it. All he’d known was that not knowing had been quietly sending him mad.

He hadn’t expected his feelings to take over like that. He hadn’t expected that the way she smiled or her habit of licking her lips when she was nervous would bring back emotions he hadn’t had in years. He hadn’t expected to feel as though they’d never broken up. But what he really hadn’t expected was to realise he was still in love with Olivia Dawson.

He gave a rough chuckle as he ran a hand across his face. Trust Ollie to stuff up the moment. Damn it. He turned on the ignition and shoved the car into gear, holding himself back from taking off in a cloud of dust. He was frustrated, but he was also kind of satisfied at the same time. He’d seen the truth in Liv’s eyes. She still cared about him and he hadn’t been imagining the attraction between them. He’d caught her sharp intake of breath when he’d touched her. He’d seen her eyes darken and her breathing quicken.

It hadn’t been a total disaster then. But if he thought he’d been going quietly crazy before, now the woman was going to send him certifiably insane.