It had to be sheep.
Cassie slowed to a crawl on the long driveway, catching glimpses of green paddocks scattered with white blobs between the poplars lining the unpaved thoroughfare. They were fenced in safely, she reassured herself multiple times, white-knuckled fingers clutching the steering wheel. Stupid sheep.
She breathed easier as the road climbed away from the paddocks, rising to the homestead, perched on a hill that had been visible from the main road. She’d stopped at the gate to look over the property, not planning to go in, taking in fresh growth after the recent rain and the house itself, laden with history. That was the time to ignore the impulse to keep going. Now, halfway up the driveway in full view of the house, was almost too late. An easy drive of twenty kilometres on a bitumen road had lured her into thinking she could come and look. Once she’d seen the place, it seemed stupid to return to town and wait for him to come to her. She wanted it over, needed it done.
The march of poplars halted abruptly, giving way to formal gardens with a mix of local and exotic trees and shrubs, garnished with splashes of colour low to the ground. Azaleas? The driveway veered off to one side of the large house, but Cassie turned into the brick paved circular drive around a colourful rose garden. In the centre of the island stood an ornamental stone fountain with a Victorian era cupid surveying his domain, dry now in deference to the heat of summer in a region only recently declared free of drought.
She slowed the hybrid hatch to a halt in front of the impressive steps leading to a lace trimmed verandah. The two-storey building was heritage listed, dating from the earliest settlements in Maiden’s Landing. The property itself was part of the original Maiden’s holdings, long since broken up. Maidens Hill. She’d had to find it on the internet, because Shayne Smith, master of all he surveyed, had been close lipped about his personal life in the few days they’d been together in Brisbane.
Adjusting her large cotton wrap into concealing folds over the loose summery dress, she grabbed the brown paper store bag from the passenger seat and climbed out of the car. The glossy red duco was coated with dust. A city car and a city girl in an unfamiliar environment. For the car, at least. She hadn’t always been a city girl.
The front door with its stained-glass side panels and bronze knocker was daunting of itself. It spoke of the secrets Shayne had kept. The discreet doorbell came as a relief. Her finger hesitated over the button as she admitted she’d been keeping secrets, too. With a sharp jab, she committed herself and heard it chime somewhere deep inside the house.
Perhaps she should have stayed in the small town. Booked into her accommodation and called Shayne to arrange a meeting, as he’d suggested. Only she’d woken up too early and a restless anxiety had driven her onto the road long before she’d planned. At least by being early she hadn’t been tied up in weekend traffic, escaping the city with her full laden car.
A skittering sound was followed by a deep bark and then footsteps on a timber floor. Cassie braced herself and was astonished to meet familiar blue-green eyes on a lanky teenager not much shorter than herself. The girl’s sandy hair was in two messy plaits, her jeans were grubby, and a button up checked shirt showed sweat stains on the underarms as if she’d been out working on the property. She probably did. Cassie knew what that was like.
What was more disturbing was suspecting Shayne Smith had a daughter. And a dog. And a wife? Unless she was a sister. He’d never spoken of family. He had been clear about not having any personal commitments, and she’d believed him. The black and white collie stared up suspiciously but stayed beside his mistress. Well trained.
‘Yes?’ The girl’s enquiry came out with a sullen aggression and Cassie realised she’d been staring.
‘Cassie Long. I’m here to meet with Shayne Smith. Is he home?’
The girl looked her up and down and her nose wrinkled. ‘He’s home, but he’s not in the house.’
She should have expected it. Saturdays were still working days when there was stock to tend. ‘May I wait for him here?’
Cassie could see she was tempted to send her away, but perhaps lacked the confidence. One dirt-stained hand tugged at a plait. ‘I suppose you better come in.’
‘I could wait in the car.’
Sandy brows rose over those distinctively coloured eyes. ‘You’d need to keep the engine running or you’d cook.’ She turned away. ‘You can wait in the front room. I’ll text Dad you’re here.’
He had a daughter. No mention of a wife so far. The nausea she’d thought gone surged into the back of her throat and she swallowed the taste. She’d trusted him. Had to trust him.
The house was everything you’d expect from a historical home, from the carved timber staircase to the pressed metal ceilings and milky glass light shades. The furnishings in the room off to the right were less grand. It was dominated by a good quality leather lounge suite and a timber coffee table on hard-wearing carpet suited for a casual room. This would be where the family relaxed and watched the large screen television mounted on the plain, off-white painted walls. The window overlooked the front garden, where her car windscreen glinted in the sun.
The girl waited until Cassie settled in an armchair, then went to the door where the dog waited. At the last minute, she turned. ‘I left my phone in the kitchen. I’m Kim and this is Barney. He’s not allowed to jump on the furniture.’
She vanished into the hall, leaving Cassie and Barney to eye each other warily. He was an old dog, she realised, discovering the extra white on his muzzle and the faded brown of his eyes. Which probably explained why a working dog was in the house. In her experience, they were usually kept outside.
The stalemate was broken when Barney crossed the room to lie on a fluffy mat in front of the fireplace. Cassie settled in for a long wait, the bag sitting on her lap. She was tempted to put it on the coffee table, but perhaps concealment was a better option with Shayne Smith’s daughter around.
The sound of someone in the hall sent her tension soaring. Heavier footsteps, masculine with a slight halt. The man appeared in the doorway, like an echo of the man she remembered. Maybe younger but with the same thick sandy hair, the extra length held back in a ponytail, and the same eyes, his face half concealed under a shaggy beard. Definitely related.
‘Hi. Ben Smith, Shayne’s brother. Kim tells me you’re here to meet with him. You’re Cassie?’
‘Yes.’ She braced herself to stand, but he waved her down, entering the room with an obvious limp and planting himself on an upright chair near the couch.
‘Stay where you are. Kim’s bringing some water.’ He swiped a hand over his forehead, drawing her attention to the crease caused by a hat he must have shed on his way into the house. ‘Shayne won’t be long. He’s finishing up the irrigation programming.’
He’d hardly finished speaking when Kim brought in a jug of iced water with a stack of glasses in her other hand. She’d freshened up since she’d answered the door, her hands clean and her hair tidied. She dumped them on the coffee table. ‘Help yourself.’
‘Kim.’ There was a warning tone in Ben’s voice.
She rolled her eyes. ‘Would you like a glass of water, Miss Long?’
‘Call me Cassie and yes, please.’
The girl poured out four glasses of water and handed one to Cassie and another to Ben. Taking one for herself, she perched on the arm of the other empty armchair. ‘What brings you here, Cassie?’ She placed a sarcastic emphasis on the name, but this time, Ben didn’t bother to reprimand her.
Cassie indicated the bag. ‘Your father left some things behind when he visited last year. I was in the district, so I’m returning them.’
Kim snorted. ‘You should have posted them instead of driving all this way. You are from the city, aren’t you?’
‘How do you know?’
‘Dad doesn’t date locally. He thinks it’s not good for me to know he’s off getting shagged. He waits until he goes to Brisbane.’
‘Kimberley.’ Ben slammed his drink onto the small table beside his chair. ‘Don’t be rude.’
‘I’m telling it like it is in case “Cassie” gets any ideas. He won’t marry you. He didn’t even marry my mother when she got pregnant.’
The sudden hollowness in her belly came out of nowhere. She sipped at her water, hoping it was more about needing something in her stomach than the comment from Kimberley about Shayne not marrying her mother. Not that Cassie was after marriage. It somehow didn’t resonate with the man she’d thought Shayne Smith had been. But he’d taken responsibility and they obviously lived here with him. She placed the empty glass on the coffee table with more care than Ben had used. ‘I’m not chasing your father, Kim. I’m returning something of his while I was in the district, and I was hoping to catch up on some … business. It’s obviously not convenient. I should go.’
‘Go where?’ The deep voice from the doorway sent her pulse haywire. ‘I thought you were going to ring when you arrived in town so I could meet you there.’
Having seen the daughter and brother, his impact should have been less. It hit her in the gut and stole her breath. She struggled to her feet, still clutching the bag. ‘I had time to spare, and I thought … It doesn’t matter. I’ll head off. Back to town. Back home.’ Anywhere but here with his family looking on.
‘Look, if you can hang on a few minutes, I’ll go get changed and we can talk.’
The swipe of his hand down his body forced her to look directly at him. His jeans and long-sleeved checked shirt were wet and muddy, and he’d shed his boots somewhere, leaving his large feet in thick work socks. Even his face had a smear of mud on the rugged square jawed features, blending into the light brown beard. The facial hair was new. He’d been clean shaven six months ago. It was neat and closely trimmed, unlike his brother’s shaggy locks.
She could only imagine his hat had saved the bulk of his thick hair because the ends dripped water down his muscular neck and the rest remained dry. He was stocky, but she knew it was all muscle. All brawn and plenty of brain. An attractive combination she still felt in the pit of her stomach.
His mouth twitched as if he knew what she was thinking. ‘I had an argument with a stopcock.’
Why was she thinking wicked thoughts? Cassie had seen him wet before. Wet and naked. Her body reacted predictably. This was what she’d been afraid of all those months ago when she’d forced herself to walk away. He was too much. Meant too much. She had to control this thing she sensed between them. He’d been talking about his farm work no matter where her mind had wandered.
She knew what a stopcock was, and he hadn’t said it with obvious innuendo. Or had he? There was something about the glint in those eyes that brought out the green.
She collapsed into the chair; her legs too wobbly to sustain her. She blinked away the image, breathing herself into a hard-won serenity.
He turned away with a warning glance at his daughter. He yanked the shirt over his head as he walked out the door, leaving her with the doubtful joy of seeing his broad back in a navy singlet, muscles bunching as he ran one hand through his hair, sending water droplets flying. She’d seen those strong limbs in action. Felt them. All of them.
Dragging her attention back, she met the accusing gaze of his daughter. The coincidence of identical clothes didn’t escape her this time. This girl worshipped her father and any of his girlfriends, women friends, would have to compete with it. Where was the girl’s mother? ‘Is your mum around?’
The pained expression on the girl’s face showed she’d blundered. She hoped the woman wasn’t dead.
‘She’s in South Dakota. On a ranch.’
‘She lives there permanently?’
‘With a new family. I have two half-brothers.’ There was a world of hurt in the words, even with the touch of pride in mentioning her brothers.
‘Really? I have a half-brother. Do you see them much?’
‘Not for nearly five years.’
It was a long time for a child. She must have been only ten or eleven. Was that the last time she’d seen her mother? No wonder she clung to her father. This was awkward. She should have done as he suggested, contacting him from town and meeting up at the pub. The complications of family hadn’t occurred to her when she’d asked the woman at the petrol station where to find Maidens Hill.
The girl must have recognised the concern in her face because she lifted her chin. ‘We Skype all the time.’
Shayne’s brother, Ben, was sitting half slouched on the chair, the almost empty glass held loosely in his hand, his wrist resting on his thigh. His narrowed gaze had a speculative gleam.
Cassie pushed aside her embarrassment. ‘You work here with Shayne?’
‘Yeah. I manage the merinos. Shayne does the coloureds. Goats and alpacas too.’
‘I thought he was into horses.’
Ben raised an eyebrow. ‘He has a few. It’s more a hobby.’
‘I do barrel racing,’ Kim interjected. ‘Like my mum.’
Oh great. Shayne had been involved with a rodeo queen. This whole day was turning into cruel and unusual punishment. ‘Does she still race?’
‘Yeah. It’s one reason she went to America. Then, when she met Cal, she stayed. He’s a bronco rider. They have a cattle property.’
Maybe the aggressively cowgirl outfit wasn’t just about her dad. ‘Do you compete at the rodeo?’
‘Yeah. I’m training now. Maiden’s Landing rodeo is next month and soon after that will be Bialga.’
Would she still be here in a month? She’d planned to stay in town, but maybe it wasn’t such a good idea. Sure, he wasn’t married, but his daughter would be a priority. It was too late to escape. She’d committed to at least wait until Shayne came back. Why was he taking so long? A glance at the clock on the old-fashioned mantle told her it was only a few minutes. It was her nerves that made every moment stretch out. The brother’s curious eyes and his daughter’s hostile gaze didn’t help. It was going to be a conflagration when they found out why she was here. Worse than she’d thought, considering it wasn’t only Shayne who would be impacted.
* * *
Shayne stuck his hair under the showerhead, grateful for the cooling stream on his face. He hadn’t expected her to turn up on his doorstep. A civilised drink at the pub to find out what was so important she’d left the city to come see him was a reasonable compromise. He hadn’t even hoped to see her again, though he’d thought of her too often for comfort. For all his adult life, he’d prided himself on being self-contained. He’d learned early, when Kim’s mother had turned up pregnant looking for the security she knew he could offer, that he was a target for women. The owner of Maidens Hill, with its acres of productive land, was a prize for any woman, even if they had to put up with him. He was no prize, and he knew it. He could only assume Cassie had somehow found out anonymous Shayne Smith was more than the simple horse-coper he’d sold her.
It had been nearly six months since he’d been to the Ekka in Brisbane. He’d been showing some of his rams and a couple of horses at the prestigious agricultural show. It had been purely accidental meeting Cassie Long on the first night.
He rarely went to the fashion parades, but one exhibitor at the Natural Fibres parade had used some of his specialised coloured wools in his designs. It had been over by the time he’d made it, the models leaving the catwalk while he was making his way through the tables.
Cassie had been standing by the compere and he’d recognised the garment she was wearing as done by Rasmus Brandt, the brown tones in the vintage style woollen coat dress enhancing her dark colouring. Glossy black hair to her waist and the elegant height of a model made her a standout in any room. His interest had been sparked immediately and the appearance of the designer beside her had been a bonus. The surge of something feral when Brandt kissed her was less welcome. Sensing danger, he’d almost turned away, but the designer had spotted him, beckoning Shayne to join them.
The next two weeks had been nothing short of amazing. From the moment he’d taken her hand in greeting and seen her dark, lustrous eyes widen, there had been no doubt of the outcome. He’d joined her in her hotel suite above the function room where the parade was held, and it had become his pied-à-terre for the next fortnight.
They’d both been busy with Ekka commitments, but every spare moment had been spent together. Not only in bed. She’d introduced him to some great little eateries he’d never have found as a visitor. They’d walked all over the city and across the river at the Parklands. The connection had blown his mind. Something he didn’t expect.
He’d almost invited her to come visit. Only the obvious fact of her being city born and bred dissuaded him. He’d been there once when Kim was a pre-schooler. The woman had turned up her nose at being a mother, and then at Maidens Hill when she realised he was a working farmer and wouldn’t be spending the bulk of his time in more civilised places while his brother and managers did the work.
As it turned out, Cassie quietly bade him goodbye with her luggage packed up at the door of the suite. He hadn’t even considered the idea that she would leave Brisbane. He should have, knowing she’d been staying at the hotel despite her intimate knowledge of the city. If she had a home, it would be somewhere else. Sydney or Melbourne, where the fashion world was larger and had more opportunities for work. He’d been so busy protecting himself, he hadn’t noticed that he’d learned nothing about Cassie Long’s real life.
Running a comb through his hair, he braced himself for the coming confrontation. He’d kept it simple, jeans and one of his checked Ariat short-sleeved shirts. Smart but casual. His heart had leapt at seeing her, but her disclaimer to Kim about marriage had sent it plunging down to his gut. Get it over with, dickweed.
The three of them were still in the lounge room, conversation zilch. Ben had that look in his eyes that told him he was enjoying this. Which was something. His brother hadn’t enjoyed much in the last twelve or thirteen years. The sullen downturn of Kim’s mouth boded trouble later, but she’d wait to give him hell once the visitor was gone. His daughter was nothing if not loyal.
Cassie looked tense, nursing the brown paper shopping bag on her lap like it held something precious. He couldn’t imagine what. He’d been missing a t-shirt and one sock when he arrived home, but not something worth travelling hours to return when she could have asked for the postal address and shipped them.
‘Ready for that talk?’
She jerked into life, the bag tumbling to the floor. ‘Yes, of course. Sorry.’
He came to pick it up, keeping hold of it as she stood, unusually flustered. So damn tall. He was a fraction under six foot, so he considered himself average tall for a guy, but women were usually still shorter. Cassie, in her flats, came close to meeting him eye to eye. That first night, in fashionable stiletto heels, she’d been taller than him by a measurable amount.
Kim’s sharp exclamation made him turn. She was standing, her eyes wide, mouth agape. ‘Shit, Dad. Looks like you did it again.’
‘Language, Kimberley.’ He handed Cassie the bag before he registered Kimberley’s meaning.
He almost echoed her words as he took in the new and unfamiliar curves of their guest, half concealed by the loose dress and flowing wrap.
Pregnant. The room faded as he grappled with the possibility. Probability. His body took the hit, the shock weakening his knees. He fought it, drawing himself up, flexing his fingers to stop the tremors. Swallowing the knot in his throat, he dragged his attention up to Cassie’s anxious face. Her eyes were sympathetic, as if she knew what was going on inside him. ‘Is this …’ He cleared his throat again, searching for control. ‘Is this what you came to see me about?’
She bit her lip, her eyes darting around his watching family. ‘Can we talk in private?’
Kim stepped forward. ‘Why? This affects us, doesn’t it?’ She cast a hopeful glance at her father. ‘Unless it isn’t yours.’
No way in hell was this conversation happening in front of his daughter. ‘I think this is something Cassie and I need to discuss in my office. Any further revelations can come later. Can you ask Parker to lay an extra place at lunch?’
Cassie shook her head. ‘Really, I couldn’t impose.’
A bit late to worry about that. ‘You’re here now, and I don’t think this is something that can be resolved in an hour or two.’
He waited by the door for Cassie to join him, taking the opportunity to rub his clammy hands on the back of his jeans. The initial angry disbelief was wearing off, but his heart was still thumping like he’d been on a hard ride.
She was almost at his side when Kim tossed a last defiant comment. ‘Remember what I told you.’
Cassie’s face flushed, but her expression stayed cool and unreadable.
Kim looked triumphant. Shayne made a note to speak to her later about her manner. Now was not the time or place with everyone so emotional. It would distract from what was important. Cassie Long and her news. In any case, he suspected he knew what it was about. ‘What did you tell her?’
‘That you won’t marry her. You don’t marry your mistakes.’
‘Your mother wasn’t a mistake, and neither were you. Getting married would have been the mistake.’
‘Same thing.’
Ben huffed out a laugh. ‘Every case should be judged on its own merits, Kimberley. You should know that. You plan on being a lawyer.’
Shayne nodded an acknowledgement. ‘Good point. In the meantime, Cassie and I have a conversation to take care of before lunch. Don’t forget to let Parker know.’
His office was down a side hall, away from the living areas and overlooking the backyard, with a good view of the pool and entertainment area from the window. It had its own entry at the side of the house, which meant he and his workers could come and go without impinging on the family. It also assured more privacy. He really, really needed to escape the accusing eyes of his daughter and Ben’s knowing smirk.
Cassie, with her long legs, had no problem keeping up with his stride, but he wondered if he should have considered her condition. He had to assume it was his, considering she’d made the effort to come and see him personally, though nearly six months was a long time to leave before contacting the father.
Kimberley’s mother had been on the doorstep the day she’d tested pregnant. Nausea tightened his gut at the memory. This was not the same. He wasn’t the same scared kid he’d been back then. Cassie was not Courtney either. What worried him was whether she was like Louella, the city slicker born and bred he’d met when Kim was a pre-schooler. He had to focus. Get his head together. This wasn’t about the past.
He stood back to allow Cassie to enter the room before him. She paused inside the door to look around. He hadn’t thought about what she might see. It wasn’t anything like the rest of the house, apart from the pressed metal ceiling and large sash windows. He’d set it up with practical modern furniture, desks and chairs and a couple of filing cabinets and a stationery cupboard. Mostly old records in the cabinets because the computer system held his stock data and financials now.
The built-in glass fronted timber bookcase fitted the rest of the house, but the contents were largely animal husbandry and veterinary texts.
‘Please, sit down.’ He indicated a comfortable tub chair facing the desk and circled to sit in his own high-backed executive chair with its back to the window. A little formal for the conversation he was expecting, but perhaps keeping things businesslike was a good option under these circumstances. Cassie accepted the invitation, handing him the paper store bag.
He glanced inside it, recognising the couple of items he remembered leaving behind and another he’d forgotten. A half-empty box of condoms. They’d used more than one box while they were together. When they’d used up the ones in his luggage, he’d insisted on providing his own once he’d discovered she didn’t have any on hand. It was safer anyway, for him. Fortunately, there had been a pharmacy in the arcade next to the hotel. It had been a full-on week between his commitments at the Ekka and his urgent desire to get back to Cassie and the bed they’d shared.
He steadied his breathing, hoping his heart would follow. His emotions were scattered and out of control, like a flock of damn sheep spotting a wild dog. With luck, she couldn’t see it. Especially after that giveaway moment when he’d first realised she was pregnant. He was used to maintaining a calm outer facade. You had to be when you were the one in charge. Especially dealing with animals. But a pregnancy was unexpected. All the feelings he’d had to deal with over sixteen years ago were coming to the surface.
He’d been so careful, determined to never be caught again. Courtney hadn’t stood a chance of making it up the aisle. He’d figured out her game the moment she’d arrived at Maidens Hill. A pity he hadn’t realised a little sooner when she’d persuaded him into bed after a night on the tiles he couldn’t remember much about. But then he wouldn’t have Kimberley, and he’d never regretted his little girl.
‘Is it mine?’ It came out with an aggressive tone he didn’t intend, sparked by memories that had nothing to do with her. He forced a smile she would probably see as a grimace. ‘Unless there’s something else you wanted to see me about?’
‘They are yours.’
‘They?’ He fixed his gaze on her stomach. ‘There’s more than one?’
‘Twin boys. Both are indeed yours.’
He was about to dispute any suggestion of denial when he realised she was joking. ‘Are you absolutely sure?’
‘It has been known, as I’m sure you would know, in your business—’ she pointed to the row of agricultural trophies and shields above the filing cabinets, ‘—but in this case, one egg, one sperm. All yours.’
‘Identical twins.’
Twin boys. An appealing thought to a man with one daughter who loved horses but hated sheep. Not that there was any guarantee either would be interested in following the Smith family into farming. Especially with a mother who came from the city.
‘I know this information is a little late coming, but I had some health problems earlier on. It seemed expedient to wait until I was sure there was news to tell.’
‘Because they’re twins?’
‘Yes. They share everything, so it’s a higher risk pregnancy.’
She didn’t seem worried. But she could be like him, hiding emotions. Even in their fortnight together, she had revealed nothing of herself. That wasn’t quite true. The facts of her life were unknown, yet she’d revealed a lot about who she was. He also knew her body intimately. She’d been open about her pleasure in his company and having him in her bed.
‘Are there any concerns now?’
‘I’m not supposed to be on my feet too much and must rest regularly. More frequent appointments with doctors, etc. Otherwise, things are progressing normally.’
‘Do you have your due dates?’
‘Technically early May. More likely in April.’
‘Because twins.’ He could understand that much. They’d had prime rams in with the sheep for the last month aiming for them to drop in late winter. Better feed coming into spring. April would be good timing. Not too busy. He shook his head. He had no idea what Cassie was planning. She’d be back in the city by then. He’d need to organise time off so he could go down. In the meantime, he could think about supporting her in whatever way she needed.
‘How can I help?’
‘I’m financially stable. I don’t need any help. It was something I thought you should know.’
‘I’m grateful you thought of me at all.’
A corner of her mouth twitched. ‘Believe me, Shayne Smith, you’ve been on my mind.’
As much as she’d been on his? He didn’t have a pregnancy to prompt the recollection of what they’d done, but she had been on his mind constantly. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d scrolled through his contacts to call her. Remembering she came from the city had kept him from the urge to make a fool of himself. Been there, done that. Somehow, the broken heart didn’t count any more. It had kept him from dating anyone seriously for years.
Until Cassie had captured his interest and kept it for two weeks and beyond. He’d been in Brisbane half a dozen times on brief trips since the Ekka. He hadn’t been tempted to pick up someone once. Afterwards, he’d told himself it hadn’t been worth it for a night or two. In fact, it was the memory of what he’d had with Cassie and that uncalled number.
Looking at her now, he should have called. It would have made today less awkward. She’d probably thought this would be something he didn’t want after six months of silence. She had guts, fronting up to tell him in person.
He waved at her stomach with one hand. Now he’d seen it, he couldn’t understand why he hadn’t noticed immediately. ‘I’m guessing this wasn’t planned. How are you feeling about it?’
Her face lit up. ‘Really pleased, to be honest. I’m closing on thirty and single and I’d given up any hope of having a family. I can appreciate you might not be so happy, but I’m good with it.’
‘Could you tell me your plans?’
‘I don’t have to work. I’m not supposed to. Too much standing in my job.’
He could understand it. Modelling was all on your feet work as far as he’d seen. He’d never made it to any of her other gigs, but he thought she’d be good at it and with that dramatic colouring, showing off the clothes superbly.
‘I never figured out where you were based. Did you fly up?’
‘Brisbane. I live in the outer suburbs though, so not convenient. The committee paid for my rooms, so I’d be on tap for the full two weeks. Cheaper than parking in the city or at the Ekka or paying me travelling time.’ There was a wry twist to her full lips. He found himself watching them, wondering if they still tasted as good as he remembered. Not appropriate.