3 September (two months later), Mindalby Cotton Festival
Sunrise gilded the treetops in the Wooroorogan National Park as Serena and Paul pulled up in his ute. This early in the day, the only action at the make-out spot was wildlife and they had the place to themselves. A lizard darted along a fallen branch into the shadows of the long grass as Serena set their hamper on the blanket.
‘It took you long enough to bring me here. What was it your uncle said?’
‘Something about not being a real Carey if I hadn’t shown you the sights from up here. I’m planning on rectifying that today.’ His voice dropped into a growly whisper as he slid his arms around her waist and nibbled her earlobe.
‘Showing me the sights, or proving you’re a real Carey? Of course today probably shouldn’t count because Uncle Josh specified the night view. I wonder what difference that makes?’
‘You can’t see a damned thing from here at night. Apart from a few streetlights. In other words—’
‘There’s nothing to do but—’
‘Make out.’ Suiting action to words, Paul kissed her with a slow, almost lazy attention to every centimetre of her mouth.
Despite the sneaky wind that soughed through the gumtrees and bush, in Paul’s arms, she felt safe and warm. Uncle Josh was right. Kisses from a Carey man were addictive.
At least when he was her Carey man.
Intense hunger for Paul rushed through her like a hit of adrenaline, a need she knew would never leave her. She closed her eyes and kissed him right back.
When her stomach rumbled Paul drew back with a sigh. ‘Guess I’d better feed you before you fade away. I really want you to—’ He broke off.
‘Want me to what?’ She knew all too well what she wanted to do to him, with him, every day.
Paul drew her to a flattish boulder and gently pushed her to sit. Then he stepped back and raised his hands and framed her between them.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I want to remember this moment forever.’
‘Our first make-out session at the lookout?’
‘No, macushla, the day I asked you—’ He took a jeweller’s box from the picnic basket, opened it and turned it to face her. ‘Serena, marry me?’
***
‘I can’t believe you conned me into doing this.’ Nerves kicked in with a vengeance and he paced from one side of the small dressing room to the other.
‘Shush, you agreed and you can’t go back on your word. Besides, it’s too late now.’ Serena adjusted Paul’s collar and smoothed an imaginary piece of fluff from his shoulder.
‘Did you think asking me to marry you over breakfast would get you out of appearing now?’
‘Will it?’ He pulled her into a tight embrace and buried his face in her hair. ‘I love you and you know I’d do anything for you, but this is above and beyond the call.’
‘I know, but you’ll have Tilly to keep you company.’ The puppy woke at the sound of her name and sprang out of her basket. Serena picked her up and hugged her before handing her to Paul. ‘All the best photo shoots are pairing puppies with sexy men.’
‘So I’m sexy, am I?’ He slipped an arm around her waist and nuzzled her ear.
‘Of course you are. Why else did you think I wanted you to be part of the show?’ She tilted her head to give him better access. Tilly licked her chin and Serena giggled.
‘I’ve got to introduce the next segment. See you at the other end of the long walk.’ She kissed the tip of his nose and twirled away in a cloud of sunset-coloured chiffon and cotton. At the doorway, she stopped and looked back at him over her shoulder. ‘I love you. Keep your eyes on me when it all starts.’ She blew him a kiss and disappeared through the opening.
Paul picked up Tilly—the shortened name suited her mercurial nature—and stroked her soft back. ‘It’s you and me, girl, until we meet Mum at the other end. Come on.’
The music changed, Serena announced the next section of ‘cotton designs for discerning men’, and Paul knew he was on.
He thought of Serena and all they had overcome to reach this point, and stepped through the doorway. A cheer went up like the roar of a footy crowd when the home team runs onto the ground. Tilly squirmed as his grip tightened around her middle and he settled her along his forearm. Ahead of him, the catwalk seemed to go on forever.
For Serena, he would face down dragons.
Or his friends and family at the Cotton Festival Fashion Show. Because she was everything that was right with his world.
And she had promised to be his wife.
Paul chuckled as Tilly’s pink tongue licked his bare arm. Ah, the things a man would do for love.
At the far end, Serena waited, her smile encouraging him as he stepped out in his first—and only—outing as a male model.