Belle swung the picnic basket in time with the beat pounding in her earbuds. She hummed along with the song, one of her favourites, and stepped through the front door of the Casellati home, slipping the strawberry-flavoured lip balm she’d just used back into her pocket.
She popped an earbud from her ear and smiled at Dante’s father coming out of the kitchen.
“Bella! So good to see you.”
She grinned and leaned up to kiss Sam’s cheek. She saw him most days, but he always said things like that. And he insisted on calling her Bella instead of plain Belle. She liked it, if the truth be known. The way he said it in his heavily accented English made her feel like she’d stepped back in time. He kissed both her cheeks, which always made her laugh. She placed the picnic basket on the coffee table and pulled out a tiramisu.
“Dessert for you, Mr C.”
He rubbed his hands together, delight flooding his face. “Ahh! You spoil me.”
“Not at all. You deserve it.”
He swiped a finger through the mascarpone on the top and moaned at the taste. “Favoloso! Perfect.”
It was far inferior to the tiramisu his late wife used to make, but it would pass the taste test. Sam had married later in life, choosing to remain single after his wife passed away, so Belle always made a point of bringing him something special.
“Dante around?”
Mr C waved behind him and nodded, far more interested in his tiramisu. “Inside.”
“Thanks.”
Belle moved through the kitchen and placed the picnic basket on the countertop, then entered the hallway toward the rear of the huge, sprawling ranch-style house. She wished Dante had more privacy, but Angel had moved into the old cottage on the other side of the shed, the original home that had been built on the farm way back when. He’d claimed, since he was the oldest of them there, he got to live in the one-bedroom weatherboard house, and the rest could suck it up at the main house.
She glanced at her watch.
“Ooof!”
She’d smacked into an immoveable object where there shouldn’t be one and strong hands caught her before she could stumble. She looked up into hazel eyes set in an extremely handsome, grinning face.
Leo … yet not. A prettier version of Dante’s older brother, and Leo was no slouch in the looks department.
“Might be an idea to watch where you’re going next time, pretty lady.”
Water dripped from semi-dried blond hair, down a strong jaw to drip onto a chiselled chest, then lower to be caught by a precariously positioned towel.
She opened her mouth, too stunned to actually speak. She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. No …
It couldn’t be.
“Raphael?”
Those heart-melting eyes were a dead giveaway.
His grin widened. “The one and only.”
Belle almost rolled her eyes at the blatant come-on that seemed to fall so easily from his well-formed lips.
“Seriously? Dude! Can’t you manage to get dressed in the damned bathroom instead of wandering around naked?”
Dante’s annoyed voice sounded from behind the block of granite standing in Belle’s way. She stepped around him to see one very annoyed male.
Raphael rubbed a second towel through his hair and grinned at them both. “Nah.” He motioned to her. “So, you know who I am—who are you?”
Belle raised an eyebrow. “You don’t recognise me?”
He shrugged one well-defined shoulder.
“That’s an interesting scar you have near your temple,” she said pointedly, waiting for the penny to drop.
The small, silvery five-cent-piece-sized scar glinted in the late afternoon light coming through the window behind her. A scar she’d given him when she was sixteen.
Recognition dawned. His eyes widened and he gave her the once-over. “No way! Ding-Dong Davis?”
“Don’t call her that,” Dante growled.
Belle let out a huge laugh. “Would you like a matching one for the other side?” she asked, grinning.
Mortification rippled across his face. “I didn’t mean …” He held up his hands. “Your name—Belle. Bells ding. It was never meant to be offensive …”
“Quit while you’re ahead, bro.”
Belle could see that Raph actually meant what he said. “It’s okay, Dan. Did you just get in today, Raph?”
“Yeah. About an hour ago.”
“Ria must be stoked that you’re back. She’s missed you something shocking.” She looked at her best friend. “You ready?”
He nodded and looked pointedly at his brother. “And before you ask, no, you’re not invited.”
Raphael’s face fell.
Dante’s attitude was odd. He’d often spoken of how he wished Raph would come home. Had they argued about something already?
“Of course he can come. You know I always have enough food for extras.”
While she and Dante were usually left to their own company, sometimes one or more of his siblings decided to join them. She’d learned the hard way to pack double what she thought they might need for their regular picnics.
Resignation lined Dante’s face. “Fine.”
“Where are you headed?”
“Picnic.”
“The river.”
They both answered him at the same time.
“You got a spare pair of board shorts?” Raph asked.
Dante motioned over his shoulder with his chin. “In my chest of drawers. Second drawer.”
Raph nodded his thanks and disappeared. Belle bumped Dante’s shoulder as he came level with her and they went back toward the kitchen.
“Well? Why didn’t you tell me he was home? That’s huge!”
Dante shoved a hand through his thick, dark hair and pushed it back off his face. “I did. I sent you a message about an hour ago.”
“Oh.” Belle pulled her phone from her pocket. “So you did.” She checked the side. The stupid thing was on silent again. She showed Dante and he shook his head.
“You need a new phone, B.”
“I know. I think the button’s busted. It keeps flicking to silent when I put it in my pocket.”
She grabbed the picnic basket off the counter where she’d put it and followed him outside toward the four-wheeled motorbike parked near the kitchen door. He wasn’t saying much about Raphael being home, which struck her as odd.
“Dan?”
“Hmm?”
He swung onto the bike and looked at her. She strapped the basket to the carry tray on the back and slid on behind him as she’d done since they’d been old enough to ride on their own.
“You don’t seem too happy that he’s home.”
He gunned the engine and shrugged. “I am. I think I’m in shock.”
Belle bit her lip and frowned. She held on to the grips as the quad bike started to move. Dante and Raph had never been super close, but she’d have expected a bit more excitement than she was seeing. Dante had always looked up to his eldest brother.
They trundled down the two-lane dirt track toward the river, which lay at the rear of the property. Seed heads of long-stemmed rye grass slapped against the front of the quad from the centre of the track, just able to be heard above the motor.
Belle closed her eyes and breathed deep. She loved summer in the mountains. The early evening air had lost the worst of the sting of heat, leaving behind a balmy end to the day.
The rumble of another motor behind them caught her attention. She glanced over her shoulder to see Raph and Ria on a quad behind them.
She grinned at them. She wouldn’t be surprised if Leo and Angel turned up, too.
Lucky she’d packed extra, after all.
The huge old willow tree that was her favourite tree in all of Kurrajong Crossing came into view as they neared the riverbend. A soft breeze blew, moving its long fronds that trailed lazily in the slow-moving water.
A large, mowed area with a huge, ancient, picnic-style bench sat near the tree, only metres from the riverbank.
They rumbled to a halt and piled off the bikes. Belle set the picnic basket on the table. She eyeballed the water.
A swim first. They could help themselves if they wanted food.