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It had been raining all last night—a constant downpour that drummed steadily on the roof—but this morning, it seemed to have finally stopped. The sky, though, remained grey and ominous, and the street looked drenched when Pippa peeked out the front windows. As one of the driest countries in the world, Australia had probably devoted more energy to dealing with drought than to the overflow of water during the occasional heavy rainfalls, and it showed in the often poor flood-planning of towns. Pippa hoped that it would brighten up later. She had been planning to check out the weekend Farmers’ Market today and now she wondered if the weather would put off the stallholders from attending.
“Mew!” came an indignant little voice behind her.
“All right, all right... I’ll get your breakfast,” said Pippa with a wry smile as she headed for the kitchen, with Sparky trotting importantly ahead. Cats! She had barely been adopted for two weeks and already the little kitten was ruling the house.
After she had fed Sparky, then had her own breakfast, Pippa quickly showered and dressed. She would still walk into the centre of town and see if the Farmers’ Market was on, Pippa decided. The exercise would do her good, especially after being cooped up in front of the computer this week, updating her CV and sending out emails. So far, she had drawn a blank on the local educational institutions. A few had taken her details and promised to get back to her if anything came up, and one had actually shown an interest in her teaching an ESL course there, but it would not be until the next term and Pippa needed the work now. The problem was, most academic institutions planned far in advance and any courses that were starting now would have been organised months ago.
Pippa felt worry nag at her gut. There were some websites dedicated to ESL jobs—she had started looking through those already—but most of the suitable ones she had found seemed to be much farther afield. In fact, mostly in Sydney. If she couldn’t find something locally, that seemed to be the sensible alternative. There would be a lot more job opportunities there—but moving to Sydney was the last thing she wanted to do. She sighed and pushed the worrying thoughts from her mind. She wouldn’t give up yet. She was sure there were still some other local options that she hadn’t explored.
Pippa had just locked her door behind her and stepped onto the pavement when she saw who was across the street.
Matt.
Pippa’s breath caught in her throat and she felt her heart rate speed up. He was leaning into the open back of a Range Rover parked in front of the vet hospital and he hadn’t seen her. In fact, he was busy trying to manoeuvre a huge armload of what looked like wet towels into the back of the four-wheel drive.
Pippa’s mouth tightened. After the brusque way Matt had treated her at the consult last week, she had decided that she wasn’t going to have anything more to do with him. She purposefully turned her head away and started walking up the street, heading into town. Then she heard a muttered curse. She couldn’t help herself—she glanced back and saw some of the towels fall out of Matt’s arms onto the wet tarmac. Pippa’s steps slowed. She hesitated. Then before she realised what she was doing, she had turned around and crossed the road. She stooped next to Matt and helped him pick up the fallen towels.
“Pippa...” He looked surprised and unsettled to see her.
She didn’t look at him but thrust the fallen towels into the back of the car. “Here. I don’t think they got too dirty.”
“Thanks.” He dropped the rest of the towels into the interior of the Range Rover and ran a hand through his hair in a slightly harassed fashion. “Megan would have killed me if I got them dirty again. It’s taken her all morning to wash them.”
“What are you doing with all these wet towels?” Pippa couldn’t help asking in spite of herself.
Matt sighed. “The clinic dryer is broken. And it doesn’t look like we’re going to get enough sun to dry these outside—in fact, I think they might risk getting wet again; looks like more rain is coming—so I’ve volunteered to take them back to my place to dry them in my machine. I’m not doing any consults this morning and I thought I’d help out. We go through a lot of towels and bedding for all the animals, so we need to keep on top of things.”
“Oh. Yes... Megan told me about your dryer when I adopted Sparky.” Pippa stepped back. “Well, good luck.”
She turned to walk up the street again but Matt’s voice stopped her.
“Pippa...”
She turned to look at him. His brown eyes were contrite. “I wanted to apologise... for being so curt with you during the consult last week. I... I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.” He hesitated. “This probably won’t make much sense to you, but it wasn’t you. It was me.”
Pippa stared at him. Then she said stiffly, “You’re right. It doesn’t make any sense. But it’s okay—you don’t have to explain yourself to me. It’s none of my business anyway and I don’t expect you to care about—”
“No,” he interrupted. “No, it’s not because I don’t care. It’s because... I care too much.”
There was a long silence. Somewhere in the distance, a seagull cried plaintively, like a baby. Somewhere nearer, Pippa could hear the steady drip-drip-drip of water, a run-off from the recent rain.
Finally, Pippa said, “Um... listen, I’ve got a dryer. I was offering it to Megan when she mentioned the problems with your dryer. It seems stupid you taking these all the way back to your place and then bringing them back here, when I’m only across the road. Why don’t you just give me the towels and I’ll dry them at my place?”
“Are you sure?”
Pippa nodded. “It makes much more sense. And I’ll tell you what else makes much more sense? To put them all into a laundry basket to carry.”
Matt gave a sheepish grin. “Why do women always think of these things?”
“Because we’re smarter?” Pippa found herself giving him a teasing grin back.
The tension between them faded. Pippa was still hurt by the way he had behaved last week but there was a tacit agreement to start afresh.
She turned to head back to her house. “I’ll go and get a basket. It shouldn’t take longer than an hour. But I can take them back when they’re done so there’s no need for you to—”
“Wait, Pippa...” He caught hold of her arm.
Pippa turned back, very aware of his hand on her skin. He seemed to be having an internal debate about something, then finally looked up, his brown eyes meeting hers.
“Do you... fancy a walk on the beach?”
She stared at him and licked suddenly dry lips. “A walk?”
He gave a lopsided smile. “Yeah. While we’re waiting for the towels to dry. I thought it might be nice... but if you’re busy or have other plans, no worries—”
“Oh no,” she said quickly, pushing her original plans to visit the Farmers’ Market aside. “No, I don’t. Thanks, that would be nice.”
Not daring to think too much about his suggestion, Pippa fetched a laundry basket, then transferred the towels to it and carried them back to her house, with Matt following. He smiled when he entered the living room and saw the kitten.
“How’s she settling in?”
“Oh, came straight out of her carrier on the first day and acted like she owned the place,” said Pippa with a laugh.
“Cats...” Matt shook his head and laughed too. “They’re amazing creatures.”
“Are you a cat person then?” asked Pippa.
He smiled. “Well, it’s probably not PC of me to say this since I’m a vet and I’m supposed to love all animals, but yes, I guess you could say I’m more of a cat person. I like dogs but there’s just something about cats...”
“Oh, that makes two of us!” said Pippa.
Their eyes met and suddenly the room seemed charged with awareness. Somehow, that innocent phrase seemed to take on extra meaning—suggesting an intimacy that was both thrilling and frightening. Is this really just my imagination? Pippa wondered. Could I be so wrong about the intensity in Matt’s eyes, the way he’s looking at me?
Finally, he cleared his throat and Pippa realised that she was still standing there with the laundry basket balanced on her hip. Feeling a blush creep into her cheeks, she turned hastily away, saying, “I’d better put this load on...”
When she returned to the living room, she had managed to compose her face into some semblance of normality. She found Matt playing with Sparky—coaxing the kitten to catch a piece of scrunched-up paper that he had tied to the end of a string. The little tabby was loving the game, jumping up and pouncing and twisting through the air, eyes bright, whiskers quivering.
“That’s a great idea for a toy,” Pippa said, watching them.
“I find that often it’s the simplest, homemade ideas that cats love the best,” said Matt, chuckling. “They’ll turn their noses up at the expensive toy you got from the pet store and play with the paper box it came in instead. Drives a lot of pet owners crazy.” He stood up and dusted off his jeans. “Right, are we off?”
The rain had started again—although only a light spitting in their faces—and the wind was strong, especially down on the beach. It turned the sea into a mass of choppy waves and churning white foam which crashed onto the sand in huge swells. Pippa had tied her hair back but it still whipped madly around her head. She had dressed warmly this time, though, in a thick hoodie, and she was grateful that Matt purposefully walked next to her in such a way as to shelter her from the worst of the wind. There was nobody else on the beach—the sand stretched empty in front of them until the cliffs in the distance.
“No one else is stupid enough to come out on the beach in this weather,” said Pippa, laughing, as she pushed her hair out of her eyes. “If anyone saw us, they’d be wondering if we’re mad. But you know... I think there’s something beautiful about a storm. I love being out in wild weather like this—something about feeling the power of Nature.”
He turned to look at her with a surprised smile. “Now it’s my turn to say, ‘That makes two of us!’ I’ve never met anyone who shared my feelings about stormy weather before. Most girls want sunshine and blue skies so they can pose around on the beach in their bikinis.”
“Not me,” said Pippa firmly. “Give me the wilds of Scotland to the beaches of the Caribbean any day!”
“What about the bright lights of London?” he asked curiously. “I imagine it’s a big change coming from that back to Summer Beach. Do you miss it?”
Pippa thought for a moment. “No, not really. I’m not really a big city girl. Oh, don’t get me wrong—I loved my time in London. The history, the culture, the food, the shopping, Europe on your doorstep—it’s such an exciting city with so much on offer. And you get to meet and mingle with so many interesting people. But...” She looked around them. “I don’t know. In the end, I always knew I’d be coming home to this. It was fun for a few years, but I wouldn’t want to settle there. I guess I like a simpler life, in a quieter place.”
They walked on for a few moments in silence.
“What about you?” Pippa looked at him. “Do you ever think about moving to a big city, like Sydney?”
Matt stiffened. “Yes, I have thought about it. But it’s not what I want.”
As soon as the question was out, Pippa remembered what Charlie had told her about Matt and his ex-girlfriend, and wanted to kick herself. She glanced at him, wanting to apologise, but Matt hadn’t mentioned Justine to her and she didn’t want him to think that she and Charlie had been gossiping about him.
He looked at his watch and turned around. “Shall we head back? By the time we get back to your place, the towels should be ready.”
Pippa nodded and fell into step beside him, sorry that their beach walk would be over soon. She wanted to say something—something to extend their time together—but nothing came to mind. They walked back in silence, heads down against the wind and rain.
Pippa was still trying to think of something to say when they arrived back at her house. As she unlocked the door and led Matt into the living room, she was very conscious of his tall body next to hers—his dark brown curls windswept across his forehead, his cheekbones slightly flushed from the exercise. Sparky was curled up sleeping on the couch and she expected Matt to sit down next to the kitten, but instead she was surprised when he followed her to the laundry.
“Here, let me help,” he said, bending over next to the dryer as Pippa unloaded the now fluffy towels into the laundry basket
“No, it’s okay, I’ve got it,” she said, standing up quickly with the basket in her arms. “Oh!”
They almost collided and smacked their heads together. They both laughed and Matt put a hand on Pippa’s arm to steady her. He didn’t let go and, after a second, the laughter died as they stared at each other.
Pippa caught her breath as she saw Matt’s eyes darken, his gaze dropping to her lips. Her heart bumped wildly in her chest. She felt his other hand come up and clasp her waist, then he pulled her gently towards him. The laundry basket was still wedged between them, but Matt leaned across it and bent his head, brushing his lips against hers. Once. Then again. And again. Teasing at first, then bolder and bolder, until he was kissing her hungrily, his mouth at once tender and demanding.
Pippa surrendered to the kiss, her senses whirling. She had been kissed before, in several different places, but never anything like this—she knew she would never forget this moment, in the warm, humid laundry with the fragrant smell of clean, fresh linen enveloping them and Matt’s arms around her, his lips warm on hers.
When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless. Pippa’s lips felt slightly bruised, but she had never felt more alive in her life. Every nerve ending was tingling and every sense heightened. She looked at Matt, wondering if he was going to suddenly withdraw again, but he smiled at her and said:
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”
Pippa returned his smile shyly. “That makes two of us.”
He burst out laughing. Then he said, “I’d better get these back to the clinic. Then I need to finish off a couple of reports. But listen... would you like to come out to the Hunter Valley with me tomorrow? I’d like to show you my winery.”
“I would love to,” said Pippa, delighted. “This sounds crazy—with me growing up here and living so close—but I’ve never actually been wine-tasting in the Hunter Valley... And isn’t that supposed to be one of the top things on the tourist checklists for Australia?”
“Well, we’ll have to fix that then,” said Matt, smiling.
